Long Outright Poems
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We felt sorry for him; he was out of work and related.
So we gave him a job. It was our pleasure.
Then he took advantage of us.
We allowed it because he is young. We felt sorry for him.
We overlooked it and forgave him. It was a small mistake.
Cost us a bit of money, but it is only money, right?
He pulled a fast one; it was a big mistake this time. We could have put him in jail.
But that would have caused a lot of hard feelings.
We were sad that he would take advantage of our generosity a second time.
I suggested we let him go to jail; my husband would not.
He said it would cause too many hard feelings between me and my kin.
Yes, he was on my side of the family.
He is on his third marriage. He has never held a job. Hs wives support him.
This one has quite a bit of money and owns her house outright.
He has become a happy freeloader. Sadly, we still feel sorry for him.
Before the whirlwind steam blurred into scoping.
Before scarcely the morning smooth gathering.
We were nervous until trustworthiness was revealed.
Amidst the adjunct's misfortune by blaze wield.
They were heedless to our flaws due to their sway.
As we overruled, inquiries impeded our headway.
I stumble over my own words and test the unattainable.
As poise trills its harsh orchestra, thoughts assemble.
The dissimilar sounds in my mind lead to stridency.
If you reckon you betray a lost soul, ply reason and equity.
As yet, my self-image fails to ensure the ideal outcome.
Stilled flows of awareness hunt for virtue placed some.
We are denied scopes that divulge a sheer rowdiness.
Promptly, when sympathy had yielded to wickedness!
And tastefulness was drawn alike a native tidal lagoon.
Sewn into the night's feeling by the beams of the moon
Since there were no stars, the sun rose at daybreak.
By relaying us, one current view of the world is kept awake.
Concerns aspire to hindrance in my road to harmony.
They fulfill their own drab ease same as a sore sensory.
Propel me down crooked streets to state my center.
I drop affection, and mindfulness covets a novice juggler.
A feeble aerobatic master beneath the kermis hogan.
An inbred urge for free fall spoils our views become on.
Outright deafness and spectacular quietness.
Patently complete, and communicate weakness.
We were herded because of our abstract language.
We strolled around valleys of the broken scrimmage.
Hued localities to us that display customary right.
We were observing the hue, and the slope didn't light.
Paradoxes and dipole oddity shuffle the process.
Stains and optic tricks are proved by farsightedness.
The moon hunts light-based bliss, yet tracts escape way.
Moral plights rally above my eyes, atman, and soul ray.
For a barred period, I'm sprung that shrouds are no withal.
The way to an Irreconcilable codicil is straightforward tall.
First place contest winner
Written:February 14, 2022
This or That, Vol 10 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
No world class historic buildings
will you find here.
No historic Trevi Fountain.
No Arch de Triumph, no!
No famous bus lines either.
No major parades seen on TV.
No zany activists with signs nor
drums or harming others will you
see.
You can walk here without fear
day or night.
No knifings, shootings nor fist
fights.
No drive by shootings day and
night.
My sweet city, a gift outright
I learned in Chicago to beware
of my back.
I rarely have that thought, any
longer!
"A boogeyman might get you"
is what I was taught.
Now, I leave my door unlocked
these days.
Unafraid someone might kill
me as I once feared.
And drive without a care that a
car is following me.
You can leave packages on your
deck for days!
Or your mail in a cute rural mailbox.
All will remain perfectly O.K.
Your neighbors roll in empty
trash bins if you are not home.
So, I ask you~ is this a gift from
God or what?
On streets here, as you drive,
people wave to you?
Why...saints alive!
Lovely smiles, a daily surprise.
American flags in pride wave
here.
Pride in the USA is acceptable.
Patriotism is in full, unabashed
gear!
And in this city, poetry found me.
Plus one poet here reached right
Through the screen and into my
soul!
Removed it, so that I became able
to see,
The unbeknownst potential that
resides in me.
Poem inspiration credit to~
Matthew Anish
"Beautiful Day in New York City"
(Hey Matthew, thank you! PR)
September 25, 2019
A sonnet by this arrant bard, an other,
whose sole half-brother, a real piece of work,
and single parent (mother like no other!),
together were no warm nor loving perk.
In her heart, mother disowned me in life.
My younger half-brother begrudged my genius,
whilst being a rival who sowed seeds of strife,
in mother, against me (how very jealous
was he?). But I, an outright bard, complete
and sheer, make their dysfunction a rhymed affair
to exorcise these memories: defeat
this duo by whom I'm “an other” in despair!?
But if I could return my estranged mother,
I still wouldn't—and call my half-sibling, “Brother!”
When his prime time antagonist
was only "Fake News CNN" profitess
I hoped he might merely be a narcissist,
cynical about social health valuists
for articulating inclusive
transparent
historically accurate
real world true survivalists
all the time
to all Earth's repopulating thrivalists.
But, now that he has kicked his own Fox News dog,
I would say *itch,
or even nihilistic witch,
but then I too might become known as cynicist
an outright full truth denialist
over-empowered totalitarian terrorist,
too globally verbal annihilist,
where we might have healthier
and wealthier chosen
a cooperatively-owned healing climate non-denialist
of holonic bicameral compassionists,
cooperativists,
win/win gaming non-specialists.
justice is outright a mind
a mind is outright a mind
a mind is outright a mind of justice
a mind of justice is outright a mind of justice
a mind is a minding of justice
a minding of a mind is,
a minding of justice
a minding of justice is,
justice’s justice
a minding justice is playful,
of a minding justice
playful is playful of justice
playful is playful of a mind
a mind is playful of a mind
a mind is playful of a justice mind
to outright playful a mind is,
to outright justice a mind
outright is outright justice
outright is outright a mind
a mind of justice is,
a minding mind
"FAKE" assertions unstoppably
bandied with beef,
(sans doughty deeds done dirt cheap)
courtesy of commander in chief
trumpeted as a way to backout,
embarrassment analogous to the thief
of Baghdad, when culpable faux pas
woe philly pops thought balloon of mine
reckons with transparent "good grief"
within mind of yours truly,
who finds himself dumbstruck
aghast, and shaking noggin with disbelief
how people can be so gullible
who would just as lief
eat a pin cushion to deliver strep throat relief.
First amendment teeter totters on brink
of dissolution mainly by the rat fink,
whose defamation against journalists
risking life and limb, yet not shrink
king enlightening liberal minded, who think
similar to myself, imposter
hood drums utter rubbish
while feeling teed off puttering
along Mar a Lago,
or another owned golf link
resorting to silence protesters
whisked off to the klink.
Distortions, (nee outright
blatant lies) saturate
social media platforms,
which followers didst rate
as their numero uno slate
supposedly reliable sources
harkening back to papa retaliate
Tory Bush prez administration,
regarding patrilineal shogunate
where Iraq summarily
targeted for crashing Kuwait
violating, jeopardizing, and
compromising vital oil, literate
folks suspected, that critical
lubricant mandatory to resonate
greasing western civilization
particularly self anointed great
super power USA, hence
alarmists didst exaggerate,
whose military intelligence
industrial leaders got irate
contracting complex projecting
global economy would vacillate
and, perhaps take Kamikaze nosedive
hence procrastination could not wait
demanding based on sketchy accusation
Saddam Hussein, and his ilk ultimate
harbored weapons of mass destruction
despite lack of distilled proof,
would severely truncate
nary a trace sniffed out,
nonetheless damn the torpedoes blitzed
in an effort to triangulate
miscreant running amuck
eventually met demise
with Bush Junior delivering
permanently placating tete a tete,
no matter dispensing top notch
fighting soldiers, whose strong
lifeless bloodied bodies remain prostate.
I love summers
going with whim,
being with him.
What can compare
to no schedule, no plans,
the cool of martinis
or beachside bikinis?
an underdressed me,
outright hedonism,
shapeless Freedom.
I love Fall
The hustle of classes
their immediate demands
the need for fierce focus,
and the challenge of exams.
The overprepared me,
intense, mental involvement,
a future, academically solvent.
two such separate worlds
that can never collide
which is actually better?
I can't decide.
Both are simply systems with costs
the texture of one, depends on the other
and neither state is fully sustainable.
.
.
Songs for this:
Wake Me Up When September Ends by First to Eleven
Another brick in the wall by Pink Floyd
Watching National geographic
Subject “The Laughing Devils”
The Hyena I have to say
For me are on a completely different level
I know all animals are gods creatures
I respect and value this
Though, personally to be quite honest
I feel Hyenas ascend from the abyss
They are nasty and aggressive
Actually, just outright mean
Greedy amongst each other
Constantly dribble and are unclean!
In their world weakness is despised
Bullies will attack
They kill their own
And the runt of the pack
I tried hard to find redeeming features
Which I was unable to do
I honestly find Hyenas heinous
Unkind but true…..
When Whitetails are roadkill
someone must hurry
(I presume they hurry),
to pull the carcass off the blacktop.
A dead deer makes quite the road bump.
It's a sobering thought
as I head along the freeway
one late, and teeming night.
The details of sudden death
are so quickly obscured,
blood swiftly swished away
by the hosing storm.
Is there a wreck in a ditch,
shredded rubber, broken class -
all the diverse debris
of a head-long convergence?
You presume human remains
remain somewhere,
one just has to conjecture the best
of the outright worst.
Behind your rearview mind
the unknown
is still rushing to clean up
all your messy assumptions.
Even so,
carrion crows still hang
from your thoughts.