Long Oj Poems
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(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
An American perspective on domestic and world events, in no particular order
SCOTUS rules that Trump’s immune
China flies the spy balloon
Starship booster landing glee
J. Assange is walking free
Bergdorf, Neiman join Saks
Our Secret Service sucks
Russia swaps her jailed spies
Alexei Navalny dies
Mitch McConnell’s stepping down
“Boris” causes Europe drown
Biden cancels loan debt
Hunter’s pardoned by his dad
Hezbollah - beheaded snake
East Coast’s shaken by the quake
Eagle Pass – still open path
Gaza tastes Israeli wrath
North of 40 goes Dow Jones
Loses fight one Alex Jones
French Olympics is a dud
Milton, Helen’s awful flood
Bitcoin’s rising through the roof
“Donald Trump is bullet-proof”
MSNBC for sale
Diddy Combs in Brooklyn’s jail
Donald wins and Harris not
Brian T. assassins’ plot
Bankman-Fried, the largest fraud
“AI” reach is getting broad
Pavel Durov nabbed in France
But illegals push, advance
Mid-East war still rages on
“Year of Snake” is almost born
TikTok may not be around
Syria has fallen down
Anti-Semites flowing crud
Israel keeps oozing blood
Taylor Swift, the billionaire
Art, banana, millionaire
Gone Red Lobster, Tupperware
Weapons for Ukraine affair
Prada sews the spacewalk suit
DOJ quits Trump’s pursuit
Spirit Air takes nose dive
Elon Mask in overdrive
Iran rockets come like rain
Hostages remain in pain
No DC resolve, it’s air
Beirut pagers need repair
Russia crumbles from within
Lower price on gasoline
“Brat”, the word of current year
Now, to ones we once revere
Gone for good, but left imprint
Culture, sport, each own footprint
Lou Carnesecca, Dr. Ruth
Wheel of Fortune Chuck, sad truth
Quincy Jones – culture brass
James Jones - Darth Vader bass
Newhart Bob, satire most
One Phil Donahue, the host
Famous Amos, Maggie Smith,
Richard Simmons, workout wiz
Global flier Dick Rutan
Gossett Lou, of actors’ clan
Matthew Perry, Terry Garr
O.J. Simpson football star
Willie Mays of baseball fame
Y. Sinwar, mankind’s shame
Year’s drawing to a close
Parties, cheer and best clothes
Time for thought and time for fun
Merry Xmas, everyone!
December 15, 2024
im getting
sick of
all the
fake people
you only
get one
life
there aint
no sequel
acting like
youre equal
to my
god
all this
bull*****
has bogged
my mind
im looking
for a
sign
to let
me know
everything
will be
fine
but i
know it
wont
so im
just gonna
grab my
coat
and get
off this
boat
before it
sinks
to the
bottom
of the
lake
this is
crazyeights
locked in
a crate
trying to
plan an
escape
but i
know its
my fate
to just
give up
and die
please dont
cry
im not
worth the
tears
ive been
dead
for the
past few
years
its too
late to
scart acting
like you
care
cuz i
know you
didnt
before i
go
i need
to finish
a few
things
but i
dont know
what they
are
hell isnt
that far
off
and heaven
is just
too far
away
when my
mind coughs
my mouth
will spray
so get
out the
way
cuz im
filled with
diseases
mushroom trips
get enhanced
with reeses
and some
oj
seeing ****
that will
make you
wanna run
away
but you
cant run
from yourself
im like
a witch
that will
melt
if i
get hit
with water
i want
that liquid
acid
**** the
blotter
that ****
is weak
i need
something strong
so i
can reach
my peak
playing
hide and
go seek
with my
own head
eventually i
will be
dead
laying in
a bed
filled with
roses
on my
way to
meet moses
cuz i
disobeyed
the lord
i couldnt
afford
to follow
the word
of christ
so he
wont be
that nice
to me
on my
judgement day
but what
can i
say
i chose
to go
the wrong
way
now i
need to
pray
that i
will be
saved
before i
go
cuz right
now
im just
an uncleansed
soul
and i
really dont
know
what will
happen
im really
only at
peace
when im
napping
so let
me sleep
thats what
i need
that will
be my
good deed
Finding Presence
Night sky beckoning dawn
Gentle sensations
Early morning walks
Empty avenues
Central Park breezes
Village cobblestone streets
Wet with glistening reflections
Accompany the seeker’s every move
Citified whispers
Discordant choruses
The street cleaner
The sliding steel-front security doors
Excited canines straining leashes
Open casements echoing emphysema-regrets
Merging with the early morning smells and start-up images
City’s reality mix awakening
Conscious-walking shakes loose somnolence
Opening eyes to the gargoyles atop historic landmarks
Their stoic residence mirrored in all-glass surroundings
Urban growth towering over huddling addicts of all types
Weary of sleepless nights
Enjoined by occasional pouting mannequins
Dressing light-starved windows
Poised to portray tourist-trap knockoffs
Rayon for silk
Fantasy for verity
Predatory “going out of business” choices ubiquitous
Shut down shops—beaten
Barely open shops—clinging
Wanderers drifting listlessly
Rising early by guilty conscience
Some prodding their welfare bodies to move
Others fearing unfaithful one-nighters become known
Old widows lean from their tenement windowsills
Having endured another sleepless night of heat
Too poor to leave the city
Too proud to ask of children
Soon
Sunrise bathes the grayness with color
Subway entrances congest
Yellow cabs begin cacophonous warm-ups
Like an orchestra of out-of-tune instruments
Their blasts are met with the inescapable “Taxi!” “Taxi!”
Deli workers spread cream cheese
Warm Bear Claws
Brew bad coffee
Wish their customers “have a good one”
Keeping secure their jobs
For another day
Returning home
Five flight walk up
One’s feet beg relief from the morning roam
A pull on the carton of OJ
A flip-on of the two-burner
The water to boil
A drop into the drug-from-the-dumpster-couch
Chock-Full-Of-Nuts in waiting
Want ads front and center
A few deep breaths
Just another day
Surviving the city
An Angel, Fairy or Nymph Now In Human Form Collaboration with Keith O.J. Hunt
An Angel, Fairy Or Nymph Now In Human Form
Her exhilarating breath so quickened my heart,
her poise, I stood transfixed in overwhelming awe.
Gasping for air, as one does when lovers depart
begging that, "dear lover please return to me call".
Her Hellenic face, Shelly would have stood agape
her voice, Eliot would have simply called divine.
From her warmth and sincere charms, exists no escape
an angel, no less than a Byron would opine!
Was she a fairy, of Faust and the Niblong's Ring
born of dew, Nature's anticipating harvest?
Creature in human form devoid its silver wings?
Angel coming to give, we lost stragglers a rest?
Had she escaped from sunset's magnificent views
a savior tasked to this dark, gloomy earth now heal
Angel or saint earthbound walking in human shoes
would time and fate, her great mysteries soon reveal?
Rejoice this moment; heaven's gate standing agape,
with all the angels in tow, and manna served hot;
Ripe as the wild earth wonders, swift as the eagle sage...
these monolith moments come to touch earthly lot;
And split upon the shores and rocks with honeyed dews....
the flowered Lovers tip-toeing a full moon night
And Artemis --- how she doth shine in fairy-wood hues
where in thy machinations it is for thee light;
For love and kindness does kiss my soul swift and soft
with her slender nymph stride to come and give me peace
And hope to kindle a secret fire held aloft
in her eyes, the stars doth twinkle love's endless sea
A great sacrifice, she has given heaven's wile;
and descend this dark world to give a greater warm
And in her lush pledges to me the heaven's smile;
(An angel, fairy or nymph in human form)
--------
First 16 lines written by Robert Lindley
Last 16 lines written by Keith O.J. Hunt
An Angel, Fairy Or Nymph Now In Human Form
Her exhilarating breath so quickened my heart,
her poise, I stood transfixed in overwhelming awe.
Gasping for air, as one does when lovers depart
begging that, "dear lover please return to me call".
Her Hellenic face, Shelly would have stood agape
her voice, Eliot would have simply called divine.
From her warmth and sincere charms, exists no escape
an angel, no less than a Byron would opine!
Was she a fairy, of Faust and the Niblong's Ring
born of dew, Nature's anticipating harvest?
Creature in human form devoid its silver wings?
Angel coming to give, we lost stragglers a rest?
Had she escaped from sunset's magnificent views
a savior tasked to this dark, gloomy earth now heal
Angel or saint earthbound walking in human shoes
would time and fate, her great mysteries soon reveal?
Rejoice this moment; heaven's gate standing agape,
with all the angels in tow, and manna served hot;
Ripe as the wild earth wonders, swift as the eagle sage...
these monolith moments come to touch earthly lot;
And split upon the shores and rocks with honeyed dews....
the flowered Lovers tip-toeing a full moon night
And Artemis --- how she doth shine in fairy-wood hues
where in thy machinations it is for thee light;
For love and kindness does kiss my soul swift and soft
with her slender nymph stride to come and give me peace
And hope to kindle a secret fire held aloft
in her eyes, the stars doth twinkle love's endless sea
A great sacrifice, she has given heaven's wile;
and descend this dark world to give a greater warm
And in her lush pledges to me the heaven's smile;
(An angel, fairy or nymph in human form)
--------
First 16 lines written by Robert Lindley
Last 16 lines written by Keith O.J. Hunt
Angel, No Romantic Heart Could Forget
( Collaboration R. Lindley & K. Hunt )
Desiring to feel again, thy warmest touch,
Dreams that have faded into distant past,
Love burning hot in our hearts was too much,
Its glow and ardor faded too fast,
Thou wouldst have had eternal sweet dreams,
In castles created to hold our true love,
Alas! This dark world destroyed with wicked schemes
All that was heaven sent from above.
We in our youth, tasted of love's purity divine,
Gentle hands, held wealth of all precious to me,
Thy image and power, did my romantic soul refine
Gifting passionate fruits of thy bountiful tree;
Now my soul, cries out for thy blessed return,
This miracle I pray shall one day be,
As flower meadows, rich in glory, one never spurns,
Let love send us again, sailing on its heavenly sea.
For all the ages revealed our great love eternal,
From silver spires did the world seem so small and otherworldly
We crept into our lofty paradise, teeming our little secret furled;
Two great eagles soaring soft to eternity
A thousand kisses too holy and sweet thy lush peck
A million lovely seasons thine eyes sparkle as honeyed stars
To Venus (shooting!) and thine vast heart our thee wed
But without thee, life is empty and its affections as death's cold charms
So sweet, death whispers your name.....
To tempt my fate to follow thy fleeting footsteps;
How damp this love, wouldst now seem in vain
No flask too deep to numb this bitter-made bed
But I shan't despair no more to mourn ----
For too holy my angel, lest I forget her plea;
The beauties of her idylls (alone) as lovelies shown:
Let love send us again, sailing on its heavenly sea
First half written by Robert Lindley
Second by Keith O.J. Hunt
Desiring to feel again, thy warmest touch,
Dreams that have faded into distant past,
Love burning hot in our hearts was too much,
Its glow and ardor faded too fast,
Thou wouldst have had eternal sweet dreams,
In castles created to hold our true love,
Alas! This dark world destroyed with wicked schemes
All that was heaven sent from above.
We in our youth, tasted of love's purity divine,
Gentle hands, held wealth of all precious to me,
Thy image and power, did my romantic soul refine
Gifting passionate fruits of thy bountiful tree;
Now my soul, cries out for thy blessed return,
This miracle I pray shall one day be,
As flower meadows, rich in glory, one never spurns,
Let love send us again, sailing on its heavenly sea.
For all the ages revealed our great love eternal,
From silver spires did the world seem so small and otherworldly
We crept into our lofty paradise, teeming our little secret furled;
Two great eagles soaring soft to eternity
A thousand kisses too holy and sweet thy lush peck
A million lovely seasons thine eyes sparkle as honeyed stars
To Venus (shooting!) and thine vast heart our thee wed
But without thee, life is empty and its affections as death's cold charms
So sweet, death whispers your name.....
To tempt my fate to follow thy fleeting footsteps;
How damp this love, wouldst now seem in vain
No flask too deep to numb this bitter-made bed
But I shan't despair no more to mourn ----
For too holy my angel, lest I forget her plea;
The beauties of her idylls (alone) as lovelies shown:
Let love send us again, sailing on its heavenly sea
First half written by Robert Lindley
Second by Keith O.J. Hunt
Jigzaw pieces of puzzles confusions
I feel like OJ without the murders of humans
Once a great athlete for those to look up to
Now sitting low waiting for death to approach you
The guns of the young strapped like security blankets
Mistermeanor crimes combat those without turrets
Who cares how I spell as long as the messages true
You college bound guppy get your degree in the area of fool
As you waist time deciding in life "what am I to do"
I wouldve got a head start in life shining shoes
Living up to the reputation that comes with skin color
I thought based on society life would come easier
Only to find the true meaning of hard work is killing me
I gave up on what used to be my childhood dream
To rule the world with my energy and natural plea
Now I am drawing the lines on my wrist to cut it free
As life chuckled and took care of my false pride
Lovely errands of work got lost like my tribe
The dreams of many go wasted when you grow up
Find out life is tougher than Dr.Zuess promised us
For Green Eggs and Ham must be a fairytale
I found out when they served the same siht for food in jail
As I scribbled the days left to serve on the wall
I read that Superman in 1993 finally did fall
Even the one who could stop a speeding bullet died
Whats that to say about me and my constant crys
I guess I better give up on my childish dreams
To free the world of racism and polluted screams
I better get back to work somebody just threw up
Hopefully they leave a tip so I can save it up
And pay for my child to go college like you
Maybe his dreams wont crash hard as mine did so true
Form:
We’re frantically typing to finish our assignments
and end our Friday night homework confinement.
Chella wants to go to a frat-house soirée
I went to a few of those back in the day.
No more frat parties, I once emphatically said.
I make rules for myself, usually based on emotion
but once I calm down, rules are made to be broken,
and it’s good, I suppose, to stay in touch with the kids
Chella does this a lot, finds a trendy hot spot,
and drags me along, enthusiastically or not.
She’ll attempt, and fail, to do a Keg stand.
That’s ok, we’re not athletes, I understand.
We’re just having fun with it, hitting a beat good,
fugitives from the rough passage to adulthood
We feel like old ladies now - it's hilarious.
.
.
Mini playlist for this:
Pon de Replay by Rihanna
Little Things x Gypsy Woman (L BEATS MASHUP) by Jorja Smith
Can't Feel My Face by The Weeknd
Summertime by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince
More Than A Woman (SG's Paradise Edit) by Bee Gees & SG Lewis
.
.
*I’ve got a Will Smith track here, I’m ashamed of how much I love his early
Fresh Prince rap years - but on the real - OJ was ‘the juice’ before he was OJ,
Michael wasn’t always hyperbaric and Will Smith pretended he wasn’t the
wifedup jesus pretenda he revealed himself to be.
.
slang..
wifedup = pu$$y-whipped
jesus = nice guy
pretenda = pretender
.
.
*We feel like old ladies because
(1) these frat boys are just lowly undergraduates and we’re master’s candidates which is vastly, vastly better. and
(2) we're Yale graduates, which is vastly, vastly better than being Harvard graduates (in our opinion).