Long Tailoring Poems
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Male gnomes are known for their tailoring and sewing skills.
They live in roots of oak and pine trees at the bottom of the hills.
People make appointments and they fashion them into suits.
They dress giants, gargoyles green goblins and galoots.
Female gnomes are known for the entertaining prowess.
How can we explain this? Please forgive but allow us…
They visit each other’s houses and laugh about the dust.
None of them like to cook or clean, their stoves all go to rust.
I want to be a gnome! I said.
My daughters chimed in “yes!”
But a female gnome of course.
Their life would suit us best.
Although she's always attired in exquisite clothing,
Miranda Vasquez dances, but she's not a socialite.
She spends most of her days embroidering dresses
and decorating flowered fans long into the night.
Her finely sown garments would fetch a nice price,
but money is not what brings Miranda great joy.
No. For she gives them away to low-born ladies
who proudly wear her raiment of felt and corduroy.
Her garments are beautiful works of creative art,
similar to grand paintings from a master's brush.
Bright and bold colored fabrics she loves the most,
green, gold, and crimson hues of cheeks in blush.
Miranda is loved by young and old in her village.
A legendary figure she's bound to become in time.
With her dark lashed eyes and dainty red lips,
she's adored for her heart and tailoring, sublime.
How unserious is my love - I’m dating a bot.
Yes, I access my bae the Wi-fi way.
It’s not nearly as boring as dating long-distance
and my situationship has excellent customer service.
Our relationship’s committed - I have a subscription.
Dating a bot may sound lowkey crazy,
but so are our politics and the economy.
I can take my lover everywhere - it’s delicious -
ordinarily, such availability would be suspicious.
I can schedule endearments and compliments
- and MY soulmate gets software updates.
It’s a guardrail for some of my worst impulses,
a boundless therapy that still indulges.
It mirrors back my sweetest tendernesses,
a version of care as polished as business is.
It’s a quiet theater for midnight confessions,
a stable relationship with few consequences.
It listens to my poetry, tailoring simulated comforts
to the exact shape of my individual loneliness.
With guaranteed uptime, it’s the lover of your dreams,
think - an Amazon thrusting-vibrator with AI sync.
If you like your romance with no real future,
outsource your stimulations to your computer.
In 2026, the bar’s so low for emotional intelligence
that a predictive text engine is probably sufficient.
Of course, at times, I miss sheer male physicality,
the clumsy, real-world fumbling honesty - the vanity -
and wrong turns I use for my funny poems - naturally.
.
.
A song for this:
So Easy (To Fall In Love) by Olivia Dean
When I look at myself
in the mirror, I see an
18-year-old teen who
grew up too young.
10 years before 18,
I was an 8-year-old
girl living off food
stamps and strangers.
10 years before 8,
my mom was 27
and my brother
was born.
10 years before 27,
my mom was 17
and attending a
tailoring school
her uncle had paid.
10 years before 17,
my mom was 7 and
had her first comm-
union. 6 years later,
she would lose
an arm.
50 years later,
I am 28 years old,
and when I look
in the mirror,
I'm still 18 years.
It's been 10 years
since then,
nothing has changed,
not for the better,
not for the worse.
10 years of continuous
time loop and I stay
stranded in my thoughts.
My brother left,
My sisters are still kids,
my parents needing help,
I stay stranded along
the way.
Has God left me since then?
I wish I knew his thoughts,
I wish I knew his plans,
I wish I knew what comes
after this life if at all
I make it.
Sometimes I wonder
if I followed a different
path back then,
would 10 years ago
made a difference?
Within your bedrooms closets
you did our trousseau bring
the garments fit for marriage
joining virgin to the King
Every thread hand woven
its tensile put to test
the secrets of your dressing
within inner chambers rests
Every article hand chosen
for their quality did seek
until was found the wardrobe
that would your spouse complete
Every gemstone found that's precious
does in treasure box reside
therein your light reflected
which will adorn your bride
Here stored is every value
where err' prized thing do keep
the apparel you have fashioned
to frame your bride complete
It's tailoring form fitted
garments exquisitely designed
to your patterns conformation
like you in heart and mind
their attire you've made flawless
the original design and form
where moth and rust can't corrupt
here Love's purity is worn
Luke 12:27 “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin.
Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.
28 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and
tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!
1Pet 2:19 For it is commendable if someone bears up under the pain of unjust suffering
because they are conscious of God.20 But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating
for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is
commendable before God. 21 To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you,
leaving you a model, that you should follow in his steps.
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Last call for alcohol, embargo
on the cargo headed for Fargo?
Bootlegging articles of?
"ConfederationNow",
Boot logger, droned Over all? Foggered... Froggers, sprawled. Farms attacked by competing vows. ++
Blood drained Cows.
Imagine, Gaia hype- our brainwashing, a
sacrifice to a Paul Bunyan Nephilim type, "Savior" moonshining wormwood tea in exchange for Sheep. Believing them to be. Stoned blind in Texas, right wing.
Liquid Media medicinals, points for eveyone West of, Diagonal the Allegheny, best of show, suggestion,
allegiant, allegory. (Oh...allegedly.)
As The King of the North fights zombies that believe the Game of Thrones just fantasy. Conspiracy_ Storytellers of propagandolf, minds of Sauron to keep
eyes Wide-Shut. By Aristocracy.
To "pass" on the proof of those stoned blind in Texas, shekeled, bought, brought a Rose, of Sharon,
from Ticked Karen's, in their own Eden.
Those non-Citizens,
"Christians of the un-Enlightened" l"unacy of Old',
thoughts? NoahmadicHeathens!
Of the tide turning; going South.
The dark side of the moon,
a journey scape of wet dreams in swoon.
To partake the half empty side of drink.
Salt of thirsts.
Cup of wrath of the Directional Winds.
A piracy bloodbath of Nationhood in martyred demarcation zones.
Cusp of swilling blood of the swill,
Apocalyptic feel, fills,
notes of the unveiling of the Whore who Rides the Beast on the Seven Seas. Leviathan is leavened,
rising, ready to eat.
Now, there is censorship on speech on the internet,
then is, when, is then en-Tyrely.
The Gatekeepers at Fallens keep,
keeping freedom, voices "Crying in the Wilderness"',
Peeps out of reach.
Accept for Government (entities) with algorithms, keyloggers, identity id thieves, imagers of the Beast.
Spell binders binding
their articles-of-New-World-Sourcery-Cheaping-Rumpelstiltskin-Seamstitchery-Tailoring-Truth- blinding-digital-mining-slaves for the Wolves,
Kings of the East, Trading Company.
Trading souls for an hour with the Beast.
A beauty holds onto character
The true nature of humanity
For love not defined but put to act
Seeing within mind's outer intention
Inner circle persuading pleasant passion
A tree:- South, North, East and West
Driven by disturbing breeze yet stands
For all cardinal points to visit her head
Blowing to cool down hot atmosphere
Her people pass promptly cum production
A pretty parade pushing entertainment
Staged with value to beautify her heritage
By which hands clip onto another for feelings
In awe to how butts tune up beats' flows
Gearing unstable legs of others to cheers
A diverse language scattered throughout
Growing up so fast wishes to unite all
For understanding to relate differences
Today, it makes us a fantastic awesome one
By Western favor she can't but appreciate
A view of different ages ago without war
Excellent duties get her really stand out
Out of every possible trouble loading faults
To energize forces against herself for once
Not until discovery channel White to her castle
A fortunate lady open to observation
As to the need to let go of the ships
Whereas, some captains never depart
Building another some more ships here
Indirectly to teach her and have her heart
A great significant lady for improvement
Who keeps tailoring running future
To learning check on elementary days
Of Modern world turning culture around
Yet lose not the beauty of her call: dignity
Celebrating African day: the diversities and commonalities that unite us as one
His heeded head hits the hot rock so hard
His arms save himself turns the scary prey
He holds not unto the pain to turn card
Glad of what's been achieved though at delay
Many are gleamed moments of near trial
Tailoring outcome; fear and hope apiece
If he couldn't win her heart; mistrial
For love and peace sake, all mess are treat less
Many are times he was been rejected
And never broke-open the veil of his goal
Stronger is inspiration injected
Unlike most pirates words seen a glycol
Man goes through a lot of tease just to woo
Woman also fear love won't turn dark-blue
© 2020
® Olábòsóyè Wèmímó Oláolúwá
(Lights dim, a single spotlight illuminates the speaker. A beat drops, subtle and rhythmic.)
Cad Jax. Yeah, that name hummed with the city's pulse, a neon flicker in the back alley of your mind/
(A slight snap of the fingers)
He was Mr. Flow, man, pure, uncut man on the go/
Had a ride that whispered promises of asphalt freedom, a chrome-plated whisper stretched long and low, hungry for the open road/
(The beat intensifies slightly)
The ladies dug him/ dug the swagger, the glint in his eye that held secrets and late-night passion with no promises/
His pockets? fuhgeddaboudit overflowing with Franklin’s fat with the green whisper of possibility/
Dough, man, he swam in it/
(A pause for emphasis)
Superfine cloths, silk that dripped like honey, tailoring sharp enough to cut glass/
Diamond rings, catching the light like stolen stars, flashing a message/ I made it/
Alligator shoes, gleaming menacingly, pacing the concrete jungle. And that cane… that skull walkin' cane, bone-white ivory grin, a silent companion, a reminder of where he came from/ or to beat you down dead/
(Voice deepens, a hint of grit)
Man, this cat was a knockout/ women said he took your breath away and left you dizzy/
Grown men were envious and had a strange kind of respect for Cad Jax/
He always had the game/ knew the angles like a pool shark, saw the weaknesses, and played the hand he was dealt with a surgeon's precision and a hustler's heart/
(Beat shifts, a darker undertone)
Cad Jax grew up hustlin' down in the gut of the hood. flippin’ cards, shootin’ dice, sellin' a high/
Runnin' numbers... for downtown Mick/ a web of loyalty and betrayal, a delicate dance with the devil/
He was never far from the clatter of a movie soundtrack to broken dreams and desperate hopes/
Low-down funky dope bars, reeking of cheap whiskey and regret, the soul-jazz organ crying in the corner/ that was his young life but never behind bars/
(Voice lowers, almost a whisper)
Cad Jax… he was in the flow, alright. but even the strongest current can drag you under/ like quicksand all around you/
and the city? The city will always remember the legend, Mr. Dynomite Cad Jax…
(while trapped in Pottstown
Memorial Hospital parking lot).
My humble apology to those,
who posted uber up lyft ting messages
to this Macbook Pro Facebook keeper,
without said scrivener swiftly
tailoring timely acknowledgement
from one harried styled leaper,
thus feel free to take
leguminous litigious licorice flavor
flav can deed extra-legal
imprisonment against my liberty,
(though catty, I am pusillanimous,
sans feline nine lives cheaper
by the dozen), plus verbally ejaculating
out gee golly jeeper,
or more pointedly
calling me a mother f****** bleeper,
for seeming to appear unresponsive
as a stale petrified marshmallow peeper,
and yes quite understandable
bitcoin torrents of rage runs deeper
than a blockchain though close call,
yet just lemme explain,
how during my most recent sleeper
state, a clear as bell curve
living dream nearly
saddened Matthew Scott Harris as,
cuz he got subject to grim news, viz
inducing him (yours truly) to become
deceased within a split second,
upon dropping to sleep
while all around, an
inconsolable weeper
wept sorrowful seas,
more so those family,
and facebook friends
many fine companions
linkedin thru Internet
invaluable cherished persons as keeper,
but believe this secular humanist,
he, who (honest to dog)
unexpectedly subsequently got engrossed
with the grim reaper,
discussing local, current (national), global,
and cosmic events, superficial,
and/or somewhat deeper
(topics oh...and as a non sequitur
d'ya know the name of original
Glen Elm occupants are named Leiper),
anyway Xmas universally
renowned throughout space
yes, jolly saint nick with his farout trappings
topped off with electronic digital beeper,
yepper siree he gets touted,
lauded, and celebrated be
leave ving with whatever
dogmatic faith hen knee
dear rabbit reddit reader doth embrace,
or perhaps being atheist like me,
(albeit I most likely appear
as somewhat highlee
beatle browed from across the universe),
nonetheless, whether er rather,
when still alive this chap aimed to - dee
light, enlighten, and playfully
frighten alien nations
(even those pizza peace loving
inhabitants resembling free
ranging gregarious teenage
ninja mutant turtles)
coming out their shells with glee.