Long Read the fine print Poems
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I was born to be a writer-
It just came to me quite young,
and even sometimes, I am a songwriter.
Since the beginning words have sprung,
I never realized words would shatter my heart;
that my own words would make me fall apart,
and that I would in time consider my writing art.
And that rejection would be a dagger to my soul.
I never knew how hard it was to reach my goal;
I shoulda read the fine print for the sinkhole.
Why must a writer suffer so much?
I pour out my soul with weeping tears.
Oh, why to a pen at night do I clutch?
And send my poems on wings with fears.
And each new poem I press to my chest,
I must admit at times my words make me depressed;
and for this poetry writer there is no rest.
I must, must write the chatter in my head,
I must follow the theme and the thread;
the terms and conditions of a writer I shoulda read.
______________________
January 18, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Born To Be A Writer
Copyright Protected, ID 9835-30-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, shoulda read the fine print 2
sponsor, John Lawless
Eighth Place
Shoulda read the fine print; my bad!
I’d still have my dog if I had,
but “no pets” the contract had said.
The dog’s with my ex now instead.
At least for the pool I was glad.
Shoulda read the fine print; my bad!
No guests?! After bragging to friends?!
My big dream of pool parties ends.
I’m off campus, yet MY rules too
are for students of BYU.
Shoulda read the fine print; my bad!
Now there goes my bachelor pad!
No women, no gambling, no booze.
There’s “L” on my forehead. I lose.
Happy Valley? I call this sad!
Shoulda read the fine print. My bad!
Feb 7, 2018
For the 'shoulda read the fine print - 2' Poetry Contest of John Lawless
(just imagining a guy stumbling into the city of Provo unaware of BYU standards and somehow signing a contract to live with off-campus students!)
I really should'a read the fine print
When Evil came calling
On a fine sunny day
I was caught full napping
Didn't know what to say.
The dapper gentleman
With a Van Dyke set fine
Spoke in dulcet tones
Like sweet and mellow wine.
My name is I Levi
Very softly he said
I grant all one's wishes
Till the day they are dead.
For power and for pelf
If You strongly desire
Or bevy of beauties
To set your loins afire.
You ask me what you will
I'll grant it with a snap.
There is no hidden catch
There's no devious trap.
I had heard of dealings
With powers of the dark
Of dire trades of soul
Of hell-damnation stark.
I asked of I Levi
Of what I had to do
Just sign he smiled and said
Just common ink in blue.
Great doubts I had at first
But soon dispelled by greed
Quickly I read the script
Signed the mystic deed.
Great was wealth and power
My lot from that day on
Youth, vigour, virility
My cares and worries gone.
For full twelve months I lived
A life that Bacchus shamed
Wild, wanton, to the brim
No rein could make me tamed
Then one fine sunny day
While wining with a wench
Came Levi with a smile
And a terrible stench.
Your Time's up, my dearie,
He most cheerfully said
You are now Satan's guest
As now that you are dead.
I pleaded and begged
My tears started to sting
I told him of the deed
Where there was no such thing.
Softly Levi told me
What that day he had said
I grant all one's wishes
Till the day they are dead.
Your time here is ended
As ordained on Above
Your soul will be taken
Your Corpus feel the plough.
I've now learnt my lesson
Rather late in the day
Caveat Emptor holds
The fine print's always there.
I really should'a
Most carefully read da
Fine print then, Goddamn it!
I really should’a read the fine print when I bought a ‘micro pig’
For this porker is enormous, surely it’s not meant to grow this big!
I really should’a read the fine print when I brought an old motor car
It broke down on the way home ...oh dear it didn’t get very far
He really should’a read the fine print when his bright pink condom split
Money back if not completely satisfied – I don’t believe a word of it!
I really should’a read the fine print when I joined a get rich quick scheme
I sent off all my bank details … and found my account has been wiped clean!
Contest – Should’a read the small print Sponsored by John Lawless
04~11~16
Should have read the fine print when I ordered my Thai bride
My doorbell rang, there she stood, said "Can I come inside ?"
"Come in" I said, "I'll take your bag and would you like some tea ?"
" Yes please" she said " But please kind sir could you make that three ?"
She saw my puzzled look and thought she'd better explain to me
"On Thai Bride Dot Com, you order one and you get two free
When you place your order, It isn't only me
You also get a mother in-law and my old granny".
Rice and fish is all we ate for breakfast, dinner and tea
I did detest, tried to protest but they just laughed at me
They loved to shop and sight see in my hometown, Baltimore
On our return they'd rush for seats and I'd end up on the floor.
Night was worse, four in a bed, it was quite a squeeze
I couldn't sleep, scratched all night, one of them had fleas
I shouda read the fine print, wanted a bride not family
Life was hell, they drove me mad ,I knew i had to flee.
I was heading for a breakdown or worse I'd end up dead
And as I lay in bed one night an idea came in my head
Next day before the sun was up I fled and left the scene
I'm going to sign up for twenty years as a U.S. marine.
Written on 30th Of January 2018
when I met him I was dizzy with love
swept off my feet in a cloud of pure lust
I had butterflies in my tummy
totally discombobulated
I think he used some hocus-pocus on me
oh I abandoned all self control for this man
those deep brown eyes had me drowning
his sublime deep voice was captivating
it was hopeless to fight
I really should'a read the fine print
he whispered sultry sweet things in my ear
he caressed my hair
and I told him I loved him hopelessly
and I am pretty sure he felt the same
because he soon asked me to marry him
I do- we both said
we promised to love each other forever
till death do us part
well I really should'a read the fine print
because forever was only a few years
it seems God had another set of directions
and our love was to be erstwhile and fleeting
it was written in the book of life
and it was sudden and sorrowful
then he was gone
only a name engraved in stone cold to be
now I am left in a labyrinth twisting and turning
my forever is a forever grief
I really should'a read the fine print
but would it have made a difference
could I have turned away from my love
even if I knew the ending
in that fine print that needed a magnifying glass
to read- no
would have loved him anyways
I carry red roses to his tomb
under an infinite motionless blue sky above
I walk a path that winds like a river
in dreams I hold him to my heart
and weep for what was in the fine print
_____________________________
April 12, 2016
Free Verse
For the contest, I Really Should'a Read The Fine Print,
sponsor, John Lawless
First Place
A night of deep and dreaming sleep on a warm and firm mattress with appropriate coverings was not necessarily an item on our wish list, because we drew accustomed to the more simpler forms of mattresses that were not firm but filled with cotton, and sleep was obtained without regards to levels of comfort.
These cotton filled softies were not designed for sitting, nor for afternoon naps, and God forbid that kids should ever consider jumping on them.
These home made sleeping beauties did not sit on top of high tech and well developed inner springs designed to support the big cushions of cotton filled cloth, but rather were placed right on to flat springs of iron fitted into the bed frames made of wood and also iron.
If there was anything missing from these beds and mattresses, I suspect it would have been a sign board that read, “For Sleepers Only”. In some cases when that did not suffice, perhaps one would have continued to read the fine print, “All others, please do not sit, touch, or stare for long”.
Indeed, true sleep really happened; And O no, I never heard any complaints of back aches derived from mattresses filled with cotton. On each night that a sleeper arrived, these designer recliners were prepared to receive all comers, providing sweet sleeps.
When the morning arrived and sleepers arose from their sunken comfort zones, whether immediately or later after breakfast, someone’s chore was to “make the bed”. Today, if ever the expression “make the bed” occurred, it would be clear to mean that we straighten the pillows, spread and tuck the sheets, and top it off with coverings of blankets or quilts.
O how wonderful is the mind endowed with the power to recall the most distant memory! Sometimes the downloads of the remotest things come to the surface which were not so trivia in prior years. In those seemingly ancient times, “Make the bed” had at least one more chore no longer relevant in our homes today.
It simply meant that we open the cotton holders known as “bed-ticks”, and stir up the cotton inside, making the mattress smooth and attractive once again. Then, and only then, was it ready for sleepers the next night.
Sleep well my friend.
cj04132015
I walked along route 58
There was Mumbai dreams and Harbor Freight
A hippie guy sold sunglasses from a stall
One had a rosy tint, I paid 5 dollars, that was all.
There was a warning label with it, I threw it away
Who needs all the fine print, what could it possibly say?
I looked at the traffic, it was stop and go
I slipped into a side street, out of the flow
The noise of cars faded, as I walked up the hill
Then I saw a big house, I remember it still.
It was painted pale blue, the windows had white trim
Carved railings outside, bright lights within
There were children on the swing, and birds in the air
Their Grandma on the porch rocking on a chair
The lilacs were purple, the flowers dark red
A pony was grazing beside the garden shed.
I walked through nearby woods, got home very late.
That night I told my brothers about this path off 58:
I said, "you got to come; on me you can depend."
Next day they came with me, past the sign that said, "dead end."
I left my glasses home that day, they had a hippie vibe
The shape was like John Lennon's, not my brother's tribe.
My brothers are right wing, and I didn't want them to rebel,
To get them off the beaten track is always a hard sell.
The house was there alright, but the grass was wild and high
Boards were cracked, windows broken, I had to rub my eye.
I sheepishly looked back, they joked, I felt the sting.
Then I waded through the grass, found a broken swing.
I've worn my glasses since, my reality was augmented
Everything looked better, it made me seem demented
I became a radical and shouted world peace couldn't wait.
I marched for no more police, and an end to the state.
Everything looked so rosy, all we had to do was try
My brothers couldn't take it, couldn't understand why.
Many years later, I dropped the glasses in some grass
A football player ran over them trying to catch a pass
The rosy hue was gone, and I finally understood
Too much glamorizing detracts from what is good.
So now I wear bifocals, read the fine print in every dream
We must focus on what is, not on what might have been.
I still ain’t read the fine print
As I stand holding her bag,
listening to insipid music
battle the rattling chatter
of shopping cart wheels,
at these times I know
“I really should’a read the fine print”.
While waiting, “patiently” at the door
as she continues the “never ending story”
complete with “flashback scenes”
added by her six sisters – I know
“I really should’a read the fine print”.
Standing in the delivery room
while she underwent a “C” section delivery,
seeing “that” look on her face
as the Doctor handed the baby – to me
“I really should’a read the fine print”.
When I asked her “what do you want for your birthday”
and she said --- “Nothing.”
So I got her what she wanted ---- Nothing!!!
“I really should’a read the fine print”.
On those all too often occasions
when she said “Oh, you don’t have to go.”
And I didn’t – I now know
“I really should’a read the fine print”.
It’s been nearly forty years.
I’m still holding bags,
waiting patiently in doorways
getting her what she wants for her birthday
going fishing when she says: “Oh, you don’t have to go.”
Damn! After all these years…….
“I still ain’t read the fine print”.
John G. Lawless
4/11/2016
I have heard all your excuses
I have listened to all your pleas
It is time to pay the pipers
With the sweet tears of your misery
Ahh the suffering
You have to surrender all your taxes
Now it is time for me
They always say the only thing IN life
That is inevitable, is death and taxes
And you have paid your fees
So hold still my friend, please
As this sliver slices so clean
I’ll collect your words
Your memories
Your soul
All your sins
To add to my collection
Tokens for the many apocalypses
While the ancient moon eclipses
As minds of man flee, as the doors
Of this damned nation swing free
To let the doom light shine across this land
Of madness and mystery
You are the key, don’t you see
To all the delicious misery
Someone once said, “The only assurances in life are death and taxes!”
I’ll let you read the fine print, I’ll send the faxes
All there is; is death and taxes!
Let me grind my sliver axes
Watch the blade gleam in the slow moonlight
I like the way it sparkles in your fearful eyes
You have paid your dews,
Now I’ll have to collect my fees
Now your pound of flesh for his glory,
This is only part of my story
Fury for the masses…
Ahh yes my wages are dark
And your taxes are spent
Time to take a ride with me
As we watch as eternity passes!