Long Supposedly Poems
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A Belated CCV Das Kapital event...
regarding birthday anniversary
wicked candle box event burns bright
for Karl Marx,
who amazingly graced,
and kindled pinterest
jumpstarting money fest destiny.
Born May 5, 1818, in Trier Germany
to Heinrich and Henrietta Marx,
sans the third of nine children
(and second oldest heir)
Karl Marx thinking begot incendiary sparks,
asper his two most controversial publications
titled The Communist Manifesto,
and Das Kapital,
which political philosophy
incubating seeds of life
of self destruction didst birth
doctrines of class struggle,
historical materialism, dearth
of equitable wealth, and inherent
contradictions of industrial capital
distributed unevenly
across avast swath of Earth
thus inviting his perspective
(conveniently exploited,
mined, and usurped) advocating
the working class (proletariat)
to expedite organized revolutionary action
to topple capitalism and bring about
socio-economic emancipation,
where wages of sin
exchanged for labor bled
fingers to the bone life source, viz proletariat
till slaving laborer nearly
became gratefully dead
despite being encased in 12 point
Times New Roman garb,
who incessantly fed
insatiably maws of production,
(no way to get a supportive talking head)
particularly highlighted
within schema of Capitalism),
a predominant paradigm
stratifying society led
to internal tensions engendered
between bourgeoisie red
dilly controlling means
of production codified as said
as die a critical approach Marx coined
as historical materialism,
where figurative landmines
forced one to tread
gingerly, thus above stated philosophy
would supposedly lead down the road
where self destruction wrought marriage
birthing Socialism offspring
from shotgun wedding,
thus coaxing eventual establishment
to house scholar and gent
of classless communist society meant
to establish free association
of Indie producers who spent
exchanging merchandise amidst classless
campy population hood pitched a tent.
Flinging open the passenger door - I retreat
Deep behind my sinuses - I feel the sensation to weep
On and off all day and night - PTSD - I wanna cry
'Cause after 7.5 incredibly long and difficult years - just why?
How could you supposedly unwrap the condom and put it on?
Let alone sticking it in someone else after my faithfulness this long?
And then to follow-through and finish the entire adultery session
Then expect and force me to remain with you without a lesson?
You expect me to look the other way, forgive you, and give you chances?
While you're still betraying me with your dedication songs and fake dances
While you continue to effortlessly lie and have dark and shady secrets from me
Yet you claim I'm your witch - and it is my duty and purpose to set you free
You continue to humiliate, use, hate, and abuse me - like a pattern
You remain using me for a "below average" piece of ass - but it doesn't matter
Not only are you my longest, but you're the only one I've done right
Now you're popping me like a water balloon - from soaring me high as a kite
You came into my life, and launched my world into a diamond paradise
But you'll never be happy or satisfied with anyone - you're too easy to entice
It's easy to get you to believe some young, random hoe
And after all the betrayal you put me through - you expect us to flow
The guilt and sheer disgust would eat my soul alive if I ever would cheat
I couldn't do it without feeling slutty and dirty - openly or discreet
You're not understanding me when I say with cheating that I am done
I can't believe you'd even think to be that heartless - considering all you've done
I'm telling you in that moment, I felt all that love expell out of my body
The second my brain recognized it as downgrading - disgustingly naughty
Your ego will never allow us to masterfully work out our kinks
'Cause 7.5 years were snuffed out so quickly - when either of us blinks
I don't think that we can possibly repair the pieces this time
'Cause every day it haunts me that you even cheated - now you'll never be mine
I hadn't known
The beginning for the end
Life isn’t to be I own
Some borrowed time, some soul to lend
Yet unknown was the soul
He who I did not choose to borrow
Infuse to be given the role
Am I to know myself tomorrow?
Will I create a soul if I die?
With the many dying to compare
A never resting place to forever lie
Perhaps simply, the many souls will spare
To think I will not do, I did
Things I will do, I commit
Though uncountable will both lead
An expansion we shall never keep
A beginning, a supposedly end
I... cannot have known
If be... some soul I simply lend
When will life I know be my own?
Axed dent of circumstances
finds yours truly liberated,
whereby no obligatory constraints
obliges forcible adherence
synchronizing Circadian rhythm
forcibly linkedin within paradigm
minutely crafting, daisy chaining
involuntarily ceding cradle to grave
man made artificial construct
(dismissing one living away
off the gridlock)
co-opting every precious moment
comprising hour quotidian existence
to sustain swiftly styled
harry tailored lifestyle
affording bajillion *****sapiens
luxury to scold frantic scramble,
freedom to scurry frantically
twenty four seven madcap rat race
formerly existing (millenniums ago)
as "noble savage"
ah...remember those glory days
now, grudgingly,
niggardly... unwittingly
compromising pleasant dreams
jarring deeply slumbering
body electric groggily awake
liberty, courtesy alarming wake up
to toil away making dem
big dearly beloved bucks
essentially entering holy grail
searching made more worthwhile
thankless fracas, fray, fraught
pitting one beasty boy against t'other
survival of fittest in overdrive
(Charles Darwin taken aback),
how origin of most ruthless species
went a courtin for dazzling,
jazzy, regal trappings
supposedly to ease
grueling laboring mind numbing
lumpenproletariat, when after
devoting, sacrificing, venerating...
prime mating years
take respite, and
hire oneself out
as independent contractor,
versus sedately pathetic mundane...
you bet your life
in relation to this
self ostracized scrivener.
I'll take you on a journey
There's places we can see
I picked a few I think you'll like
I hope that you'll agree
Let's watch a blazing sunset
From somewhere on a shore
Just you and I together
I couldn't ask for more
Let's eat Godiva chocolate
From a Belgian chocolatier
I mean flying there to Brussels
Not going somewhere here
Let's sip some French press coffee
At a Paris street café
Where afternoons just mosey on
And an hour lasts a day
Let's swim on the Amalfi coast
That part of Italy
Supposedly is beautiful
Take it in with me
Let's spend some time in Switzerland
I'll rent a small chalet
With a picture window looking out
On Alps not far away
Let's tour United Kingdom
Welsh castles everywhere
We'll walk the English countryside
And breathe the Scottish air
We'll get our steps in easily
Walking hand in hand
I'll get to be alone with you
Wouldn't that be grand?
Pack a bag, we'll be away
It might be for awhile
I'll take care of everything
Just let me see your smile
Mad they say I appear it
the price of a free spirit
you won’t find me conforming
like Norman learning from Gordon before him
with ordinary Audrey of course how they all be
and Shirley who surely showed she the sheep need
supposedly me unblended with society
slightly odd I be obviously
I’ve problems impulsive exciting
intentions repulsive insulting
they laugh or sit sulking
too I inciting
to strike like a light beam
bright like lightning
loud like thunder
awake like slumber
unpredictable actions
must stop acting them
the impact in fact
an exact dumb
too them for me fun
offensive unthought
offending I thought
I’ll own up
I’ve never grown up
they tried to correct me they just corrupt
psychologically struck psychology stuck
to get this head needs more than luck
style starved wild card vile bard child heart
if you don’t fit in you drive them berserk
one of those being different perks
around him awkwardly
cus he aint ordinary
aint married Audrey
aint how he ought to be
lost hold the wally
off his trolley
in rain without brolly
didn't eat his broccoli
or turn out properly
no Norman or Gordon
certainly not Shirley
and assuredly not Audrey
oh how tools breed
that was a top read
On a runway suited to launch anyone to anywhere in the world;
On a jet plane engineered and well equipped to take me there;
Without a doubt, I was determined to be a world traveler.
I dreamed, prepared, and was driven to be the best.
My biggest supporters were my Lord and my mom, and
such support would come to be the 'one sustaining anchor'
for my soul to successfully launch my dream and chosen work.
I had a model for success, and he was my human hero.
Others had charisma and showmanship. My hero had
character and humility, ingredients that I knew were
required for the kind of success that I was seeking.
Not long after launching, there was lots of turbulence,
but that was only the beginning of 'dream-altering'.
The plane was highjacked, and I along with hundred
of others were blindfolded. The pilot was forced to land
in a desert.
From that day forward, my dreams, like paper planes
we made as kids didn't fly; neither did many parts
of my dream that became a nightmare. But we kept
making paper planes..
Remember this: The vast majority or nearly every plane
that launches also lands safely. However, 100% of planes
that do not launch, never land. Life happens and throughout
my journey, I have learned that 'dreams that turn into nightmares
do not have to make me a nightmare'. By God's Grace alone, I
weathered the storms, and in spite of all that went supposedly
wrong, God has been good all along the journey. Launch!
081122PSCtest, PAPER AIRPLANES, John Lawless
Fiction based on truth
11/5/19
"Beyond the Poetry"
Grew up on country roads that were dusty
And bumpy
When I was a dummy
My life was crummy
Experienced it first hand, didn't just study
Life's a trip and at times rather funny
But it also got rather ugly and bloody
Days weren't always sunny
Couldn't stay comfy, or rely on being lucky
I'm hungry
Mind on money
My eye on women, but they don't notice me
No matter what I do, still they're not noticing
Handled, what life dealt me
Cut off, what wasn't healthy
They kept trying to tell me
That I was supposedly living how I was suppose to be
Or so it seems
Lonesomely, woe is me
For too long, I was using copiously
Living uncontrollably
Just after the highest potency
Always knew, I didn't have a high status socially
I try to support products that are made locally
Paying my respect to where I'm from
I may not be as young
But I'm still one son of a gun
Like none
Last name is Ogletree
Looking beyond the poetry
On what's important, I'm focusing
There are things you do or don't see
Not just about me, I'm talking globally
My actions now are notably done nobly and heroically
If only more did too, instead of boastfully
You must be joking me if your knowingly
Harming this planet, then I'll take you out ferociously
Soon death approaches thee
Since there never could be diplomacy
I've got no time for hopefully
I'll get it done, stoically
In this world, I'm invested totally
He’s out there again. I turn my head, but there is silence.
Are you sure it’s the same guy? I look but they have disappeared.
What do you think he wants? I inch myself to the window and move the curtain.
Don’t do that! A voice shouts. Shh! I say, peeking out a sliver of glass.
There is a car, but I do not see a man. Maybe they have imagined it.
“What are you doing?” I jump from fright. “Nothing,” I say.
My abductor glares at me. “Do I need to tie you tighter?
I release the curtain. His eyes stare at me. He is making a decision.
He will kill you tonight, a voice says. I do not doubt it. I believe it actually.
If we untie you, do you promise to run? The other girl asks.
They have been here longer than I have been here, but neither run.
I wonder about this, and about the guy they supposedly see out the window.
How can you see out the window through the wall? I ask them.
We are dead, one says. That’s how we can untie you. Psychically.
I am shocked, for I know they are right. I blocked their bodies out.
Not able to stand the truth. I let myself sleep, waiting for the end.
SCENARIO
ostentatioun
everywhere
spreading
in the
hothouse
of
incongruous
reflection
ageless &
timeless
elevated
living
a
paraphrase
supposedly
overwhelmingly
in an
atmosphere
of
astonishing
perfection
flawless
beyond
observation
an
epochal
retrospective
of appreciation
in contrast
& spotlit
in appearance
so visually
available
&yet mysterious
impervious
impassive
monumental,
in
reflected
profile
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.