Long Slip up Poems
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Judgement day is every day when you're trying to survive in a decent way. Clean up your life and move away, to a new playground for the kids to play. It's an Oreo cookie way of life, broader than black and white. Trying to break to the surface to see the light, but you keep getting suppressed.. it takes all your fight.
Drop out came a long way.. From counting stacks of 3 to a GED. On the outside mamma's so proud of me. But inside she's scared she don't want to see me take another fall, slip up and lose it all. X'ed up, punching holes in the wall. She's cautious for my life, she cries: "I wish you could see it through my eyes".
Accidentally got caught up in the game and chase again. Never had let go, the past was still holding onto my hand. Slowly takes over, but you keep it undercover. Keep it on the low, thinking nobody's going to know. But somehow I stayed on top of it. Only slinging and drugging on the weekends and ****. Got through my Friday and played on payday. Dedicated worker specialized in crazy.
Then one I day my end started to begin. I changed my life and I traded it in.. For a camouflage uniform that covered the scars on my skin. I ended up losing my freedom, tied down with conflicting feelings. Gun in my hand, I was told to defend, the pain and the hell that I had abandoned. The bad guy in trusted boots, ripped myself from my roots. I planted my self far from the town I was raised in.
Kind of felt like I was betraying there trust, leaving my love for a life that's lust.
But then again.. I finally felt filled inside, alive. Maybe there was a reason I looked at my past, and wanted to run and hide. No longer scraping dough to get high. Now I see it again, that pride. The sparkle in mamma's eye. And for the first time it ain't a tear from fear. Can't plan ahead a god damn year. Now she has hope instead of dread, from that knock on the door saying: "Your little girl's dead."
I opened my eyes and I stopped listening. Closed my ears to the phrases of hustlers. "Act classy, you're a lady" was all they could muster. How did they think ladies could survive in these streets? Double standards of life, a game you'll never beat.
I lived how I wanted, they said it was no place for a girl. But once I shared what I had, it became our world. I found the "I" in family, once the pain killers got a hold of me. They kill the pain but bring the misery.
The Antique store
Antiques she adored, a relic he was.
She had a special place for art.
Unfortunately it wasnt her heart.
I'm clinging on to the older things
the antiques of our time.
Sometimes they break or get lost.
I cannot replace them,
no one can replace them.
But I'd rather have an antique
than nothing at all.
At least I can say I enjoyed it at some point.
Teach me to make beautiful.
No beauty can I find.
Search me whole.
Tell only what thoughts appear to be mine.
First comings need an exit of least disgrace.
No one wants to be kept waiting.
For then their time might never come.
Trimmed antiques in dusty lace.
A whole world
Begging for
Change
Daring to dream
Endless altering realities
Figuring that the end
Generates a new start
Hinging on the application of
'I'
Just in terms of understanding
Knowledge of the self
Learning about the
Magic inside all of us
Nearing that
Ominous future
Persistent in the
Quest for a better tomorrow
Reach for it!
Stand up for it!
Teach the young to
Usher in their new era
Vestiges of ours gone
Without a second thought
Xenoliths of a different time
Yellowed antiques
Zealous youth to push aside our failures
When you don't need me,
you put me on a shelf
with your dusty trophies
you never really earned,
and antiques
you never took care of.
I'm up front, visible,
easy to reach
at your convenience.
But I know you would rather
take what you need from
your precious china cabinet.
Just know that when you fumble,
when you slip up,
and when you stumble,
your precious china will break.
But I will still be here.
I have gathered all time tellers,
grandfather clocks, alarm clocks, phones, watches -
to tell you that : I have all the time in the world for you.
It might not be the most sophisticated way
to say that I have an ear for listening and a heart for consolation,
but don't be too skeptical with my methods.
Forgive me, maybe, perhaps, if I can't be so bold and concise.
At least, now we've got all these antiques to talk about.
he is a lover of brokenness.
he likes antiques,
collecting little fragments of things.
he hates breaking them,
so he finds brokenness,
fixes it up a little,
takes a few pieces and leaves.
he's already taken a bit of me,
and unless I shatter again,
he'll leave forever.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran
Rejection Slips 4
Editor's Notes
by Michael R. Burch
Eat, drink and be merry
(tomorrow, be contrary).
( and complain
in bad refrain,
but please, not till I'm on the plane!)
Write no poem before its time
(in your case, this means never).
Linger over every word
(by which, I mean forever).
By all means, read your verse aloud.
I'm sure you'll be a star
(and just as distant, when I'm gone);
your poems are beauteous (afar).
Less Heroic Couplets: Rejection Slip
by Michael R. Burch
pour Melissa Balmain
Whenever my writing gets rejected,
I always wonder how the rejecter got elected.
Are we exchanging at the same Bourse?
(Excepting present company, of course!)
I consider the term “rejection slip” to be a double entendre. When editors reject my poems, did I slip up, or did they? Is their slip showing, or is mine?
Ode to Postmodernism, or, Bury Me at St. Edmonds!
by Michael R. Burch
"Bury St. Edmonds—Amid the squirrels, pigeons, flowers and manicured lawns of Abbey Gardens, one can plug a modem into a park bench and check e-mail, files or surf the Web, absolutely free."—Tennessean News Service. (The bench was erected free of charge by the British division of MSN, after a local bureaucrat wrote a contest-winning ode of sorts to MSN.)
Our post-modernist-equipped park bench will let
you browse the World Wide Web, the Internet,
commune with nature, interact with hackers,
design a virus, feed brown bitterns crackers.
Discretely-wired phone lines lead to plugs—
four ports we swept last night for nasty bugs,
so your privacy's assured (a threesome's fine)
while invited friends can scan the party line:
for Internet alerts on new positions,
the randier exploits of politicians,
exotic birds on web cams (DO NOT FEED!) .
The cybersex is great, it's guaranteed
to leave you breathless—flushed, free of disease
and malware viruses. Enjoy the trees,
the birds, the bench—this product of Our pen.
We won in with an ode to MSN.
Keywords/Tags: rejection, rejection slips, write, writing, poet, poets, poems, poetry, internet, social media, society, culture, virus, viruses, viral, coronavirus, malware, world wide web
" Scream, Ann, scream! Scream like you've never screamed before!"
I saw their eyes, wide like turkey eggs
for his bombast had provided us sneers.
Just what is it he expects her to see
that would leave her shaking, in tears?
" Have any of you ever heard of..Kong?"
There it is! This is it! The man's a fool!
He's off for a film so they'll be thrilled!
This ship is a tramp, not proper or trim.
He'll wind up getting all of us killed.
" All hands on Deck! All Hands on Deck!"
She's gone! Oh my God! She's gone!
Now what do we do? Hand out the guns!
Is there enough bullets for them all?
I still wonder: are we the only ones?
" Come on! Who's going with me?!!"
I can't believe the size of it! The size!!
It's a mirage! It must be a nightmare!
It's carried her off out in that jungle!
My hands feel cold. We'd better beware.
I might be lucky. I'm staying behind.
I shot it. I know I did!
" I tell you, skipper, this Kong is as big as a house!"
I slip up by Denhams' side to hear about
Kong and these dragons and there's more!
I thought those things were dead and gone
Suppose one of them comes to this door?
" Kong's Coming! Kong! Kong!"
I heard the gong! Oh my God! It's Kong!
He followed Driscoll and Ann right here.
We've taken up arms! We've bolted the door!
I wish I could be somewhere and not here.
He's In! He's Loose! Run! Run!
EXPLOSION! I turn
Kong stops. He staggers.
He's down.
I hear Denham shout:
" Come On. I Got Him!
We'll teach him fear! We're millionaires, boys!
Kong! The EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD!"
I never slept all those weeks back.
Gunshots and whips from the hold
It's a mistake to bring this thing back.
Denham is foolish and brazen and bold.
EPILOGUE:
I shipped out right after we docked.
I pour another shot, look out to the sea.
The mate just told me the news
over the wireless:
Kong is loose in New York.
I wonder where Denham is...
She thought I loved her for the texture of her hair
Yes, but I also loved her for her flair
We thought that our love will always float in the air
We were sure, and for this we stood foursquare
She thought I loved her for the cocoa brown color of her skin
I could care less because that’s not the reason for our love’s tailspin
Our souls were joined at some point in passion like a Siamese twin
Long before our popular love turned into a devotion that had-been
Perhaps we expected our actions to always be so circumspect
Love is conditional, relationships need an emotional architect
So, she thought I loved her for the velvet cavity betwixt her thighs
I don’t apologize, she is a powerful woman, or else please advise
She thought I am a man-shaped drug the detox to which is painful
Till I remembered that many of her devotional phrases were so guileful
Saying that she has been in a hole for so long that it started feeling like home
Saying that she has been watering a dead flower and every flaw was a syndrome
Saying that she has justified to many scars by loving a person who’s holding a knife
Saying that she would rather be in a relationship that is full of love and life
Saying that she has her boundaries pushed, her thing inside has been awakened
You might wonder whether her hitting-the-freeway had already been preordained
From the oceans of love, our feelings have been invited ashore
The absences of which each of us can barely account for
Perhaps we expected ourselves to be as perfect
Little did we know that in this prison of letdown we’re a convict
But should every slip-up we confect be checked?
Every box of that which doesn’t connect us be ticked?
We dwell with the denizens of the deep - our ship’s wrecked
We both know that we don’t need a restraining order
To come to the grips of it that it is over
Lips that taste the tears, they say are the best for kissing
I pray that you save the kissing for your engagement ring
So, then I can be happy that I dried my tears to see the stars
When the sun was gone and that only memories will remain ours
I have said many reasons why I love you. Although there’s no amount to say, bc there should be none. My love for you is limitless.
You’ve been through a lot, and I’m willing to climb those walls. You’re more than I’ll ever know myself. You continue to show me reasons why I love you. I can’t even begin to explain how much you’ve helped me.
I know I’m stubborn, annoying, and a brat more than enough times- yet, you continue to love me and stay by my side.
Life isn’t easy, but I’m willing to stay for you. Our obstacles are mountains high, I’ll climb them to be with you. My love for you is larger than the center of the earth to the sun.
My star has been fading for years. But in the past months of knowing you, you re-lit that flame. I hope I can do the same.
You and I both know we’ll slip up and fall. From small hills to a cliff. But always know, I’ll grab your hand. I’m NEVER letting go of that hand. You would have to injure me so horribly for me to let you slip. Even then, I don’t think I could.
Our lives have somehow intertwined. I do believe in fate, as you probably know. This might sound stupid, but I believe we were met to meet. As also as this sounds, I think we went through a lot (even without) knowing we had someone out there who does understand us.
We’re opposites- that much is true. Though as you said, opposites attract. We are both our own person while still sharing common interests. I absolutely love the fact you have the same mindset as me at points.
Plus, I just love you. I think some how, in some way, we were supposed to meet. I believe in a lot more than I let on. I think a lot about things and dig in deeper than I let on. I can tell there is a lot going on, even when you say there’s nothing. I’m not blind. But I’ll NEVER force you to tell me something.
I trust you. I trust you a damn lot. I’m willing to say I can put my life in your hands if it comes down to it. I hope one day you could think that same. Even though I’m clumsy, your life is something so precious, that I could never even think of leaving a scratch on it.
I love you~
They call you corporate?
Well then so am I
You’re that same guy I saw pass by
And cut your eyes in my direction
Like I was some kind of menace
But we’re both lawless
I run my world from where you wouldn’t dare
You run yours from that big corner office
Same hustle
Different size slice cut from the same seedy pie
The only real difference?
You run your sins from a hundred floors high
But you hustle just like me
Mr. White Collar critic
I may openly live it
But just like me
You push your product towards the weak and impulsive
So like it or not you’ve been right in it
Just like me
Supply and demand
Different trade, same plan
We target the same clientele
That same vulnerable man
Cause’ once that money changes hands
We both have no shame
All green money spends the same
You got your stocks, insider trade
I got my rocks
We’re both self made
You got your inside sources turned state’s witness
I employ the young and ambitious
Sometimes they slip up
And they too become snitches
So the flavor in your greed taste just like mine
Two people who at the end of the day
Pull up their britches in the same way
One crooked leg at a time
So you see
You hustle just like me
You got your “just in case” insurance
Stashed off shore, to be dispensed upon request
You launder
I make threats
Eventually,
What both of us want both of us gets
You keep a tight circle
I keep one too
But mine’s called a crew
In any case it keeps us less nervous
But they serve the same damn purpose
They help us sleep while our money stays in service
What I sell makes people believe they can fly
So yes,
My trade is predicated on a lie
But I guess
Your trade is just as cleverly disguised
It’s just that your lies are forgiven by less judgmental eyes
But both our business models have destroyed innocent lives
So in essence
When you stare at me
It’s like a mirrored view into your own scandal clad eyes
You know why?
Cause’ you hustle
Just like me
Copyright © 2014 by Daryl R. Gaines. All rights reserved
Last night I sat in my solitude n wrote some verses,
So listen to me as I spit them like chapters from pastors in churches,
Hope when I’m finish it will meet places, masses,
U see I’ve been faced with some problems lately,
Yeah I know, God will take care of them, they all say,
But I’ve been playing this waiting game a long time u see,
And as much as I plea,
Oh Lord help me, is like he never there to help me thru,
So I began to curse God out for giving me this awful life,
Daily I live my life with strife,
Now I see why people take knives and take their lives,
Because living a life like mine people really have to strive hard to stay alive,
Just like bees in a bees hive, raised
Yes, people in this world are ready to attack you and leave you staggering to revive yourself,
You proberly saying what life KG been living?
I guess it’s safe to say, one like if I was thiefing,
You know, like if u thief a lime from your neighbor, u have to hide,
Because in this place where I go to school, like it have people out here watching my every
move,
So let me slip up and say the wrong thing,
Do the wrong thing,
Them aint waiting until the fat lady sings,
They taking me out like wind,
They look at me an underestimate me,
Cause apparently I look young,
But they aint know I kinda strong
But as I watch these people in their eyes,
Tears from my eyes fall,
But still I stand tall,
Remembering the saying “this too shall pass”
Only if I could kick them dutty minded people in their ass,
For being so hateful,
But I have to keep my thoughts within,
For am I am a minority in this place,cause all do is in it to win it…
Also remembering this life aint no race,
Wonder if they know God don’t sleep
Sometimes I do wonder if they open their mouth whispering the amazing grace.
For last night I sat in my solitude and wrote some verses
I hope those hating humans see and recite them like Sunday school memory verses
So now I rest my case…
KG!!
Dear people,
Grant it be a solid marble, marble, a slate or granite marble, it is still a stony marvel of a marble.
-TheThird rock away, with just the right light to
stay, way far from bright ...(yet just right for life)
It’s flight, flies at faces, at high paces, far out and from extremely long ranges.
consider-A spun, struck golf ball, that holds all life, where all that is known is to; desperately cling to it’s sides and hold on for dear life,
-rest no fears, it’ll be a bumpy ride. (Let’s go!)
-Suggest we together, Tie,-Us up with the weather, securely tether safely all sides,
form a worldwide scifi-type balloon...
to act as with the moon,
...so tightly in tune to its two tides.
The Truth in the tongue, sung, from both sides as its hung from the tooth.
Born in a spectator who took a quick look into this spectacle’s booth. In the horn in the hoof. All In the Toe as a whole, solely by our souls slowly, roll into its side to shift/till it slides, till still. Then It’s uphill we’ll slip up on a looped reel, till all there’s-to feel is thirst for a refill but Every sip could be thE pill, gulp down so greed kills, throw that up there with the whole while, free will, whichever; stand-sit still, all will still feel a lil bit ill from this slow violent till that really tares up the insides...people if you must, if you feel Inclined, read these with eyes that read to tare up words written on (an) incline, and in as these here letters bleed together in lead lines, that might find, though inked in lead paint they will still seemingly read fine... and thankfully with no harmful lasting defects on any esteemed minds.
And yours? (keep em in )No one cares for those!!!!!!! Keep those, here’s these, now ... These words and the following have and will always be mine...
-these letters are for the people who know how to read and feel so inclined
I understand the importance
of remaining faithful to the one you love.
When two hearts become one, and the knot is tied,
no simple thing was done!
It really had no resemblance
to taking a stroll through the park.
Though there was much to see
there was far too little time to sit.
It wasn't like watching a terrible film
and then badgering the employees -
no refund was available, this was it.
What I don't understand, however,
is how readily available women
are with their ammunition,
when you so much as look
in another lady's direction.
She becomes hard like a Catholic teacher,
sending me straight to detention.
The female form is a beautiful thing.
Would you not agree?
You don't have to be a guy
to notice how lovely.
I believe you should be incredibly worried
if I never looked at any other.
Even the best of us are quite stupid,
but don't call me disloyal
I believe you should have faith I won't slip up.
You didn't just pick me out of the gutter...
You planted a seed deep inside
and turned this dirt into promising soil.
That girl in the red bikini
who walked daintily on the beach
was simply that -
A girl in a red bikini
walking daintily on a beach!
The truth is I don't know a thing about her:
her favorite color or what she smells of when she wakes,
or whether she's into dogs or cats
(I know when you see a kitten with a ball of yarn, your heart just quakes).
I don't know her ticklish spots,
the perfume she wears, or what she likes to eat.
Can she down just about anything, like you,
And still remain light on her feet?
I haven't the slightest clue
for she is simply a girl passing through.
She has nothing I could ever want,
nothing that would ever hope to satisfy.
She is like a pretty picture
- a reminder of my humanity.
But with you, my dear,
you make me feel like I have wings,
that could so easily touch the sky!