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This is now my unofficial Poetry Soup Blog.
I know you're only supposed to post poetry here,
but as far as I can tell,
I can blog here as well
as long as my blog rhymes poetically to the reader's ear.
So check back here now and then occasionally.
I may have announcements to share for all of you to read,
but I'll post these blog announcements poetically.
That should justify my posting a Soup Blog
in a space that is most strictly reserved to log
all kinds of styles of all kinds of poetry.
If I have any new news that needs to be released
I'll leave this web address posted on my last posted poetry piece.
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*******
12/03/ 2009 -
I have deleted the following pieces from my postings.
Thank You Bird Of Prey & A Pale Male Tale.
I also have revised a couple of postings.
Pale Male's First Love & In Loving Memory Of Pale Male.
With both of those pieces I've eliminated the entire text
and substituted all of the text with a single web address.
Feel free to give them both a quick look see.
Do you think this is a good idea?
Your opinion matters to me.
In Loving Memory Of Pale Male> Site Under Construction
Pale Male's First Love> Site Under Construction
**********************************************************************
12/12/2009 -
This Is Not My Poem (Author Unknown) Parts 1 & 2
will be deleted at the beginning of the New Year
so you might want to give it one last view.
It's a special Holiday poem that you may want to read.
I posted it with the hope that a fellow Souper might know the author's identity.
I know the author's name now, thanks to one Mr A. W. Nutter, aka Anthony.
The author's name is Michael Marks. I'll leave his web page address before I leave
so that fellow Soupers who join in the new year can also give him a read.
Michael Mark's "A Soldier's Christmas"
http://www.michaelmarks.com/asoldierschristm.html
Here's the web address also for Mr Nutter's Poetry, aka Anthony's Poetry.
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=14459
This Is Not My Poem (Author Unknown)
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=185645
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To Continue Go To:
My Poetry Soup Blog, Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=192344
See them looking through the door waiting on the food for poor, they have been waiting on it for more than a week but mercy has passed them on crooked street and the people kept crying out for help as day breaks and reality walks all over the place, it is the other layer of life that is hard to see, it is part of life that is searching for thee and the morning escaped its ugliness.
Everything has come to a standstill as destiny has carved out their pre-determined will, leaving them bare and empty without a solid branch to hold on to, but somewhere in the distance the wind was blowing fresh air and the universe was negotiating for them over here and hope presses on and the people remained strong.
I placed my hopes in a mountain of deal rubber stamped and sign with signature from heaven, with a promise that should not be broken but you have taken the oath and meddle it with dirt and rolled back the stone and led the people astray to fulfill a short live promise that will never survive as the heart battle with its own pride.
Come with me to the top of the hill and allow, me to reason with thee, open your mind and relieve all the burden, caress your soul with the gifts from heaven untangle the web around you and come with me to the island of the divine where faith lives and the people love to sing.
Look at the people over there, there are living in great despair, you have taken away the bread from their mouth and their spirits began, to shout and the earth is soaked with the tears of their grief and they kept crying out to thee; if you listen carefully, you can hear them.
Examine the village at the foot of the hill, their spirit cannot remain still, the people are in severe pain because you have taken their medicine away, they will all die if you don’t do something right away, time is of essence so don’t allow your mind to falter.
I watched then prey upon the heart of weak men, men that have sold their soul for a shilling and pence; they have dragged the dirt upon their head for ages and work for minute wages and that entire region is at risk as starvation is driving them off the cliff, you must restore their livelihood and let them live.
How much longer must I wait for you to come and open the gate,
How much longer must I wait for the dream to come true, the chances are great but the burden is now on you.
Punch the button dial 9 three times
“Hello This is the emergency line”
“Excuse me yes id like to report a crime”
For you see this man took something that was mine
He took my hope, my trust, my love my time
Confused me with fakery bull and lies
Counterfeit love right in front of my eyes
Guess he thought I’d never get wise
He always waited until it was after dark
When he knew he had fooled my heart
Creeping in, trespassing my property
Taking things that weren’t meant to be
Made me break promises I’d promised to keep,
That no man would cause me tears and lose me sleep
Should call him Spider-Man with the web he spun
His art of deception is second to none
Split personality and divided attention
He needs redemption redemption redemption
So can I have a crime number now Uve heard my statement
Need to phone my life insurance to claim that payment
If my life’s been ruined do you think they will pay out?
If I break it all down and lay it out
Put it into words and say it out
Bag it all up and weigh it out
Insured my life when my life was mapped out
Before u was exposed and before u tapped out
Untick the terms and conditions it wasn’t genuine cover
That diamond turned out to be cubic zirconia
Surely a complete lie must be insurable
Like cheating ways are practically incurable
And maybe I don’t know the law atall
And maybe I just look even more a fool
But how else will he be held accountable
When His part in my demise is undoubtable
He kidnapped my hope and murdered my dreams
Denied me my future ripped it apart at the seams
Left me only with broken pieces
What I thought was smooth was actually creases
If a judge won’t be the one to pass a sentence
And ur ears are deaf to my ten Cents
try to convince us it’s all rumours and nonsense
But u know what it is that’s on ur conscience
And when ur time comes ur world will crash down
When what goes around makes its way back around
And when it’s you being played and ur not the one that’s winning
When ur hearing words but you’re not sure of their meaning
When u can’t work out what’s real and what’s deceit
When u start to feel the first pains of defeat
And I hope when it comes it will hit u hard
The ultimate punishment for love fraud
Scam the scammer, fool the fool
Switch it up and change the rules
years of writing and learning
working
guts spilled
heart ripped out
torn to holes
stabbing myself open
and spreading myself thin
learning this about that thing
this thing about that stuff
computer whizz i am not
but one comes along
and i am forever lost in the shuffle of the game
playing with myself
solitaire with levels
puzzles with destinations to surf the web to give
my writing a new purpose
lead you here to find where else for you to go to find the next puzzle to ponder and
meaning of it all
as if I'm some genius
unfinished puzzle
I've been shut down
and how do i explain this to my children
walking in my crutches
who cannot afford to be read one more time
as i whine in the midst of my goose chase
of level three leading you back to level one
and my space is just a place to look for something to do
top point at the famous players and how i got my foot in the door
and how they know me one day
and I'm not shy to get my attention whether I'm good or not
i have something to say
we are a community and I'm here for the life of fun and games
I'm here for the utopia
why does it have to be like a bully ruled school yard of conviction where no one
knows who they think they are
and no one is worrying about who questions anybody
and laugh at estimations
of underestimating thew jobs we never apply for
fingers pointing over here and over there and nothing left to lose
so was it worth it
when now i cant sign in due to scandal
i cant fix any perfected mistakes due to friends who know pass codes that affect
me still
tight lips are sinking my ship and the truth be told
the police wont get involved
just thought you should know I'm in the Center of nothing
spiraling out to place to find if i can be
where none will ever go
a journal of the one who was everything written of emotion from gods joke
to inspiration to writers and communicating generation gaps
and now its all lost because of hate crimes we cant solve and peoples
paranoias of technology and phishing scams
cant sell my work anymore or access my pay pal
years of work not backed up
lumpy lessons served with lemon aid
just go surf and see the game
do the pieces fit
of the head strong ahead of his timer terrified false prophet goose chase
inter net hacked shut down?
something to think about for you!!
False promises and bold faced lies
From leaders we call men,
Too foolish, vain and unwise
It’s the election blues again.
Feign to believe the web they weave
With patient ears we listen,
Future balanced if they achieve
From deceitful eyes teeth glisten.
In principle, fate is our blame
Yet in our selfish pride,
Our judgment shadows woeful shame
Behind scapegoats fail to hide.
Ballot fiends they all may be
Watching poll numbers, plus or minus three,
What will their victory bring to me
After January twenty-three.
Subsidized youth sports, gun control
Child care dollars galore,
A policy a day, and truth be told
Campaign gifts are a chore.
What matters East-West-South ‘n North
Is that we get it right,
While opponents bicker back and forth
By cable, bus or flight.
Success depends on unity
Without it we’re a wreck,
While one side suffers mutiny
The Grits give Tories heck.
The separatist Bloc` says “Let us go”
Demanding sovereign freedom,
White margarine and one-tongued-signs
Does Canada really need them.
The answer is, quite simply, oui`
We cannot tear apart,
Instead, honor all with dignity
And make a brand new start.
While men debate with pointed fingers
On issues big or small,
Our neighbor’s fear of terror lingers
With plans to build a wall.
Five billion they shall not relinquish
While bring East to peace,
Infernal war fires ne’r extinguish
Diplomacy for lease.
Denying partnership in war
To Iraq we didn’t go,
And up in space where eagles soar
Again we said “Oh no”.
Canada is not the States
Their future is not ours,
While Bush comments on us, berates
His future quickly sours.
When we look back upon these days
In golden years of life,
Will mirrored lakes obscure with haze
Too thick for sharpened knife.
Or does the future hold great treasure
For Canadians, one and all,
With strength and courage beyond measure
Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.
Like years before, each voter chooses
With hopes and dreams of change and glory,
But in the end there’s winners and losers
Different writer, same old story.
Scott Goldsberry
December 30, 2005
(Continued from Part 1)
Transparent figures walk at a flirtatious pace
On world-class runways, with no expression on their face
Parading styles you can't afford in your possession
They are the ghostly models of the latest, greatest FASHION.
A millisecond blink, a click, some weird noise,
A virtual reality for all the girls and boys, and men and women,
From X-Box to the Web, from Lasik to Radiology -
At work, at school, at home,
Invade the blinks of the mind-boggling TECHNOLOGY.
Hard sharpened teeth are clutching at my feet
"You won't go far! You have deadlines to meet!
Go back to work, we hunger for your check.
Oh no, we don't really care that you broke your back."
The swollen lips repeat "You have a chance!
And all you need is years of education,
The right color of skin, and perfect credit-pay-back evidence.
We'll hire you if you're that certain kind,
Then close the firm and move so far you'll never find."
More faulty words are slipping from the tongues
"Don't worry, our brand won't hurt your lungs.
Enjoy yourself! (*at your own cost)"
You think you're cool, when sadly you are lost.
The "sharpened, swollen, slipping" are after you and me
They are the widely-opened mouth of the ECONOMY
Enormous brains stroll through historic halls
Preparing campaigns, false promises, ready for the brawls.
Deciding wars, neglecting harsh critiques
They are the brains of brainless POLITICS
A large behind sits comfy in its chair
It "covers" all, at all times, everywhere.
From Maine, to Oregon, to most southern tip of Texas
Sit one-half IRS and the other TAXES.
A sagging belly and a double chin,
A pair of dark circles and a droopy skin,
Decide to make a move and Go For It!
It's time to freshen up and tighten up a bit.
As they arrive at their first appointment
They're quickly greeted by awaiting disappointment
"You want to look younger? feel better? No, No, No!
Read through your policy, you fools, we are the HMO!"
*
On this, my friends, I'll go to sleep
I'm tired, time for counting sheep.
Just one more thing I'd like to add,
Last words just pondered in my head
The moral of the story is,
That if you want to live with ease,
Through all commotions, bring your sense of HUMOR
Just so that you, yourself, don't turn into an ugly tumor.
1999
© Copyright
At any rate, it was not quite a ‘history repeating itself event', but it was close. It was the same place and close to the same time but a different day, separated by nearly a year. Like then, I was watering, there was a spider. and there was a yard bug trapped in a spider’s web. However, unlike then, there would be no rescue by me of an entangled bug, but rather a large catch by the spider.
It was Saturday morning at 7:20 on the 4th of July, and the fireworks would not be blasting away for several hours. However, the yard bug in question would not be around to hear the sounds of patriotic celebrations on this holiday. It appears also that this time, I was just a bit late to hear the sounds of “Help me!”.
Walking out my front door to water the flowers, I bent over to turn on the water faucet and noticed a most interesting encounter. A Black Widow Spider had begun processing its food supply at the expense of a yard bug. The bug was trapped in the spider’s web, and there would be no getting away this time.
After observing this wildlife ritual for a minute or two, I went back into the house to fetch pen and paper to record what I saw. When I returned at 7:30 to continue my observation, I must say that I was surprised that the spider and the bug were nowhere to be found. Not being educated on the eating ways of spiders, I thought that the spider would consume its prey in the web. Apparently, she had a better location for storage and eating purposes.
As I thought upon this wild-life tale, I began to realize that the bug was only slightly smaller than the spider. This meant that there was enough bug food for several days. So the Black Widow was dismantling its prey from the web to tuck it away for future consumption. The big catch was sufficient enough supply for the whole Black Widow family.
I could not help but recall my similar observation of last August 18th, when I was able to rescue the bug from the trap of the spider. It could have been, but I doubt that it was the same bug. I think perhaps he would have been smarter than to return to the same danger zone. But who knows? However, I have every reason to believe that this was the same Black Widow, who this time, beat me to the bug.
07042015 PS Contest, At Any Rate, It Will Be Fast Moving, Julia Ward
Pure Fantasy
Authors disclaimer this is the only poem that eye must disavow all attempts of
actual emergence no murder will ever be done...
The Central tower has a clock the people gather in the better spots at any given
time close to lunch the hits a go. There must be Four Thousand of them between
us and the road. We need to kill them all to ease the overcrowding problem. Web
attachments on. Make nice clean kills on the girls kill the boys slow and hard.
There is nine of us and when we are done they will kill us all. They have no
choice they will send someone. The retired air force colonel say it col o nell we
say it kernel practice it the European way he left he is not the threat the real
problem that we have is the old poet he can stop us. The one they call the
CharlaX. He is unafraid of men. Eye heard the screams of the wounded boys first
and the girls were never heard for they died fast. Eye sprinted out into the fray
looking this way and that. Eye grabbed the first man from behind and twisted his
head around to let him look at me the man who killed him then eye took his
Tommy gun and let it chatter at the next three men bunched up and lucky for the
me eye hit them with all three bullits in the gun the bullits meant for my poor
children on the mall. Eye won that round and took the gun from just one man and
the clips needed from the web attachments off the rest of them and went to look
for more and there were four. Eye pulled the bolt back on the Tommy and let
them have it full bore holding the barrel down to spray them fully not giving them
time to shoot at me and there is where they died. That left one the leader of this
dearth of circumstance. He tried to get me fast and he let up on his approach too
quickly missing me the needed inches in his haste to get it done. Eye did not
hesitate for in a fight it must be moments added to the microseconds needed to
complete a fight to get it on. Eye let the barrel swivel up cutting him so cleanly
and so neatly half into he dropped nothing left of feeling in a man beyond his
pain. The children who were left will never knoe how much eye loved them for eye
turned the Tommy up and cut it swiftly to my brain. The tenth man gone.
Pure Fantasy
(The title means there is still hope beyond the hardship or light at the end of the tunnel. *Note from J W Earnings*)
No one has a right to call me horrid things
I wish you feel my pain and its insane stings
Hello to goodbye, I simply, heavily sigh
Sometimes, I feel like crying and dying no lie
Kill the sorrow
There’s tomorrow
Life’s a sparrow
Without wings to borrow
Forgiveness will give you satisfaction
This emerald compass will give you direction
You found me in an awful mess today…of dismay
You made it up to me tonight; alright…on the freeway
I am acting like the victim
I’m being selfish emotionally
No need to be like them
I’m my own person actually
You called me foul names
Forced to take the blames
You touched me all the way
On the edge…falling, I pray
You save me from my suicide
You save me from my bipolar ride
Save it for another tomorrow
Leave it to yesterday below
You played me like a video game
All I feel is this anguish and shame
Get it over with and shut it please
Music is blasting and I’m the tease
Fought the battle of baffling lonesome
I never knew people thought I was handsome
They saw through the phases of my shady past
Or so I assumed...this joy somewhat doesn’t last
Shattered like nothing matters
Fire and snow, you know, nurtures
You flatter me with your childish antics
This heart needs more than a simple fix
Still in distress…it’s hard to move on
Axed down like a tree times a ton
Release the anxiety I have been lost in
Saturated in the sweat of my…my sin…
Forgiveness is forgetting genuinely
The password to my trust is too complicated apparently
You lied, I lied…let’s leave that in the dust-clustered past
I want this blissful lifetime to last, not this ache so vast
Enliven my empathetic nature
Tomorrow is a million miles away, but that won’t stop me, no way
Good-bye to hello that’s for sure
Catch me in the web of wishes come true and, yes, come what may
No one needs to point out my wrongs
God is the only Judge and you aren’t, my strange dear
Wrapped up in woe and write it in songs
Most of all, have no sign of fear and be of good cheer
Daisies of delight grow
I want to live and glow
Shade of abyss will not show
So, yeah, you better know,
A lowly Death – big N.O.!
He came from foreign lands to seek it. Like a leather clad, sunglass wearing, Russian spy, he sought it out. Where was it? Where was it hidden? Stowed away, locked up, safe, she replied, as she timidly led him down the pathway.
They passed through many rooms, down many hallways, in search of it. Locked box after locked box, she opened, she teased, the light blindingly vivid at first but dimming quite fast. As the light faded to darkness, she would close it and move on. On to the next room, the next box, each one possessing a renewed hope. The lights of the hallway growing brighter and brighter, we must be getting close, he thought, each vault the seemingly perfect hideaway.
She continued the walk, he continued to follow. He was entrenched now and he knew it, caught in the web, but he continued on. She was in full control. She could choose to reveal it or she could keep it for herself. All he could do was follow, hope, wait.
The growing look of uncertainty slowly creeping in, he began to question it's existence, maybe she even did too. Was she lost herself or just leading him on? Is this even the correct path? Could it be recovered at all? Just some of the questions that began to mount.
Maybe they had passed it, maybe it was all a ruse, maybe it didn't exist. If it wasn't for the hunger, he might've given up much sooner but this was a hunger like never before. He wanted it. This time, maybe, he needed it. So, he held hope. He had come all this way, he was in too deep now.
They continued the walk. Pit pat, pit pat, pit pat, the sound of echoing feet through the chamber. With each passing room the anticipation grew. We have to be close, it has to be here, it all looked so promising.
If it was hidden, it was here. If it existed, she was the possessor. He followed. Like a zombie in full trance, he followed. Where was it? Was it here? Had he been fooled? She must've been stone cold to keep it hidden this long, to keep it locked away. Show it to me, he thought to himself. Show it to me now! But, there was nothing, she wouldn't expose it, it was all in vane. It was hers to keep, stowed away, protected. Hidden from him, hidden from the world. The cost too great, the risk too high. She would keep it for herself. Hidden, locked up, protected.... Safe.
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