Long Up for grabs Poems
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Rear view mirror
Objects, objectively put, are closer
than they appear. But it doesn’t say it all.
With the fair signs that spewed forth once turning to
a slew of pre-twitter pseudo- tweets since.
I once put it down In form Octa-Tri :
In rhyme scheme: aab, bb, ccc .
(“ At the wheel
At night. Uneasy feel.
Narrow misses, though, in nobody’s midst.
Rows of reflectors mark lanes glaring through the mist,
Comforting coolness and sultry night coexist .
Cell service zones change, ding-dongs the phone
Heart fluttering alone
Night unknown”.)
A row of earthy images it failed
rather than showed ,images with eerie
librations and weary nutations .Which
was not Physics, but physiognomy of life.
Like when bashed by kiddy badasses and
basic arithmetic, or when up higher ,
combative but math a behemoth
all the same, and guided perfunctorily
often, and rarely with the right intent.
In the peccadilloes- round, the Tintern
Abbey Sycamore also loomed dour sans
creativity , but the three trees on
the low sky made sense , and then on to
T.ds. equations and tedious times
soured by sleep and steep sloth.
Ingenious in fair measure , now turning
ingenuous on the proving grounds , after,
in the space of a couple of cusps of
light and sound mom was no more and we
whimpered and simpered under a dad who cared
but did not seem to, in his straight-faced mode
Then came falsely flashing , faintly fuming ,
slapdash years of machines and mega hertz,
eggs and vegs, sex and senescence to remain
for ever weighed down by the wayside whey.
Bringing-up-kids-banality apart
( fed mainly on meds for just cough that recurred);
preferring palm-frond’s loftiness cum
deprivation to urban up-for-grabs
benefaction; and the mess of docs, deaths
and a mossy crock of living pain since.
And all the dicey way , never patted
but p(f)anned; tweaked , untweaked ; harmed, ex-harmed;
banked on , debunked ; short-changed, sort-of-changed ;
lumbering on , alive and a-slumbering
and if anything wondering if it’s
not all the mirror’s prim fault
which never once showed my face.
I, (and the missus)
pleased as punch residing
at this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania locale,
(since july first tooth house
sand eighteen), marks one year
and better with (on site
service) wash and wear,
but most irrefutable attraction
comprises rental assistance,
when upon the merry month of May
first, the dollar figure outlay
to occupy a single bedroom
(at this low cost
housing facility) didst veer
dramatically downward
from an initial charge,
sans five hundred, and seventy two unswear
able legal tenderloin monies,
per twelfth of Gregorian Calendar,
when aye didst tear
away the page signaling June,
thine checking account reduced sheer
lee no misprint (to win unbelievably
rosy, piddly, and giddy)
one hundred and seventy
seven buck a roos,
yet lesser benefits appended, asper
this bucolic, diatonic,
and harmonic rear
opportunity to espy
white tailed non *****
yule less doe ting mama
belonging to Cervidae family app pear
ring to take shelter in a narrow
(sunset) strip somewhat near
enough from mine
inside perch oblivious
to this mad capped (Alfred E. Neuman),
who whiz stumping for elections midyear
essentially to reinstate
"FAKE" King Crimson Lear
on the throne,
who strongly objects to killdeer
for eats or sport,
and silences those hood jeer
his reverence toward gentle creatures
including near extinct albino blushing zebra,
hooves warp and weave interlinear
within said (postage size
token) plot here ~ 1+ hectare
secluded upon a tract
off the beaten commercial
domain and glare
with suburban sprawl,
a hop, skip and jump fair
lee quickly disappearing
"in the name of progress"
though vanishing wild
life eyes find endear
ring, though thine psyche
wracked with despair
no matter ample (spacious
free) parking, a clear
bonus as well un
limited water usage
and to top off the list donated
up for grabs non-sellable (stales) breads,
cakes, fruits, vegetables
about twice a week doth appear.
Man so mighty and wise
still has to define this
that another living being's life
has the same value as his
Boasted, brazened
written in stone
raised above
these highest places
where power reigns
crushing down
in white
clenched fists
gripping so tightly
to "history"
squeezing
draining the meaning
out of good intention
Those stones are weeping
as grass grows quietly around the edges
The future
chipping
crumbling
forgotten
Differences
are best listed
to be used like lines in the sand
some seen on the skin
most are though beneath
tracing
tearing
a cross marking
the surface
this land of the free
that the privileged paid for
from sea to sea
with the lives of lesser men
and their women
up for "grabs"
The women
best when big breasted
beautiful and begging
feeding their daughters
dreams of a better tomorrow
when that white clenched fist
stops squeezing her ****
before slapping
lips against her
drooling over her
in her ear
whispering
something sweet
like
"Honey
you're mine"
What lines of defense
Those lines lie on paper
written, signed and etched by those
elected and chosen
statesmen stating authority over your body
their dolls
their toys
smiling
serving their purpose
the good Word stenciled in stone
Equality
carved out in flesh
fresh cadavers
swept under the rug
serving their purpose
Gravestones weeping
as grass grows quiety around the edges
The memory
chipping
crumbling
forgotten
Keeping their hands clean
they wipe their mouths red
blood on their stained sleeves
the polish from their shiny shoes sully
the stars
and stripes
stripped of the value they once held
when they stiched us all together
and brought so many strangers home
How white clenched fists
hold power and privelege
held so high in esteem
like our stars
and stripes
teetering, unraveling
the threads shaking
as if stripped naked
and forced to wave
above that Capitol Hill
pivotal
and still
unchanging
unmoved
Our Lady
liberty
holds a tattered gown
My challenge was not issued there! My challenge was issued here!
Which was why you threw me off, when, first, you ran in fear.
You, who had the reputation of being the best to play this game,
"destroying" all of your challengers, while gathering all of the fame.
But, maybe all of that fame went too quickly to your head,
As your audience ate up ev'ry word that you had said.
Respect for your battle skills was immediately reserved,
But, now, I have to wonder was all that respect really deserved.
As I stated in my "ODE," this is a game of speed and wits,
Where the strong throw all the punches, and the weak take all the hits;
Where a real poet accepts a challenge, no matter how many dare,
And is always ready to battle anyone, any TIME, ANYWHERE!
The last point, that I just made, is the one that you should read,
Giving it all of the attention, that it really needs.
I decided to step up, but you decided to run and hide.
I guess hiding is much easier, than swallowing your pride.
Ev'ry request that I made to battle was met with an excuse,
Which made me think that you were really trying to dodge all of my abuse.
Are you afraid to get embarrassed, or of losing all the fans,
After proving that you are unable to meet all of my demands.
If so, then you "officially" forfeit your claim to greatness,
Because any such claim, to me, would be considered weightless!
The number one spot is "officially" up for grabs,
So, now, the scientific minds are working in their labs.
"THE DOZENS" is the name of the game that we will play,
So, if you do not have the balls, then please stay out of the way!
But, if you do decide to play, accepting the fact that you just might get pinched,
Make sure you come alone, leaving your "boyfriend" on the bench.
I entertain the crowd, but from the crowd is who you run.
Therefore, your reign at the top is "officially" done!
Now, to more "worthy" opponents my focus has been shifted.
So, turn in your little crown, since you are obviously done with it!
ever so damaged is the party who put all their eggs in the basket,
make-believing that because two share a mutual roof,
that no more effort needs to be made &
that maybe because a contract now exists,
that no more effort needs to be made &
that because all the friends of one are the friends of the other,
that no more effort needs to be made &
maybe if they acted naively rash in the beginning &
children got dragged into this picture,
that still,
no more effort needs to be made.
when another party comes into the picture,
they are allowed in because there is a hole in the wall---
water was flushing through in little spits,
but at first, the river stayed flowing in the direction that it
had been thought to be flowing,
given all the contextual cues,
but the parties involved did not spend any time trying to bandage this new cut &
no one even got down close enough to the hole in the wall
to try & plug it with even so much as their own thumb.
events follow like the plot in a poorly written film,
where hopes & dreams are now traded in for self-fulfilling prophecy,
with one party playing “the hurt card” & the other playing the
“fed up card,”
as the blame game begins, the roof over each of them is up for grabs &
as the blame game begins, the contract between them gets torn to shreds &
as the blame game begins, the mutual friends disown them both (sick of listening to them) &
as the blame game continues, if there are children involved, their lives now take on a whole new inventory of nightmares.
as the threads of the sweater once thought new & wondrous
slowly pull apart & the design of the whole thing becomes frayed &
destroyed,
hate is directed at the party who cares about one of those now
deteriorating,
ironic that the effort being made is by the “homewrecker”
who with bandages in hand & a face full of experience,
is more than ready to pick up the pieces or at least provide something momentarily positive
amidst the ensuing chaos.
Technological Breakdown.
.
Has Hi-tech technology
Now gone too far
That we seem lost without
In this hedonistic instant gratification
Obsessed days
.
Or were we better without it yesterday
When life was simpler and less complicated
In so many different ways
.
Of course it has made life easier
And communication better still
But I think it's gone too far
We are moving too fast
In a speeding burning car
Without a brake
.
For the good souls it’s a useful tool
But for the evil one’s
A Devils playground
With souls to take
Leaving devastation
Within it’s corruptive wake
.
Where is the joy today?
For the evil and greedy have taken it away
With ads that invade your home
All the time on social media
And now on your phone
.
The latest must-haves
Up for grabs
Telling you it’s the most current desirable thing
They just don’t want to take your money
But sell your soul and even take your skin
.
I used to love to watch old movies
That I enjoyed as a kid on TV
but now they have taken them away
And now charge you a fee
.
Too much choice too much hype
The net gets darker
With so much trolling and so much vice
But serious sin comes with a price
.
Ads that bring pain and sorrow
Invest in a will or funeral plan now
Never mind tomorrow
Brainwashing by marketeers
And greedy investors
Who hound you into submission
Vultures who pick at your bones and pester
.
Endless logins and security
Take the joy
Out of everything for me
.
Bulling extortion and scamming
Viruses and jamming
The dark web
And evil sceaming and planning
.
The high cost of technology
Doesn’t just come
From the latest labeled must-have phone
But the one’s we use every day
That intrude our lives
And our home
.
G5 and too many microwaves
May take us to our early graves
Technology has gone way too far
And soon will have its day.
.
‘’We are just too reliant’’.
,
Peter Dome©2020.
Stake Your Claim (On God's Heart)!
Stake your claim on God's heart if you're looking for gold,
There are nuggets to find there; no snake oil gets sold,
Philosophical sophistries, fake news, et al.,
(Up for grabs) are the 'muffs of diseased whores' on call!
Are the loveless betrayed when they get what they paid for,
(Or their pain more deserved?), 'road to hell' just an encore?
Should saints(?) pray for God's Grace when the self-righteous sin
Or get out of their way? Lemming's rush! Cliff's chagrin!
As we drown in man's feces, should TRUTH 'throw us ropes?'
Is man's 'truth,' "lost are lost, and misanthropes sad dopes?"
When you feel that you love, have you "grabbed the 'gold' ring?"(1)
Does to grok that you're 'LOVED' mean you have everything
Of real value, my friend? Doesn't Bible suggest,
That we humbly trust God, that the rich man invest
All the wealth that God gives him in 'love for his brothers?'
Is your 'feast invitation,'(2) God's Grace or your druthers?
Isn't Christ the true Bridegroom? Who's honored by God?
Can the 'Church' (all 'indwelled' ones) deserve 'Love?' That's odd!
Or is Bride (one He weds) there in spite of her flaws?
Do man's dreams rule this marriage or 'LOVE' birth all 'LAWS?'
Long Tooth
July 31st in 2019
Poet's Notes:
(1) 'To grab the gold ring:' To take a chance and reach for some goal or desire.
Origin: In past times when children got on a carousel at a carnival or an amusement park, a child fortunate enough to be riding on the outside would have a chance to reach for and grab a gold (or brass) ring just barely within reach, so some risk was involved. This ring was a token the child could exchange for a prize of some kind (often a ticket to ride again at no charge).
(2) 'feast invitation:' The "wedding feast" where the 'indwelled' (God’s Church) become the Bride of Christ.
Today’s a day to keep in mind when looking back but not behind
Some doors I’ve closed but not yet locked as I can’t forget what I once thought rocked
There are still some loved ones I wish weren’t out there, I only hope they know I care
It didn’t take long before I did see that in the last year I forgot about me
The sex, the drugs, the need to belong allowed me to make choices I once thought to be
wrong
My life had become a lot like a game; each turn seemed to change but the outcome the same
See it never really mattered who I welcomed to play because deep down inside I knew not
one of them would stay
I didn’t fit in and I never caught on that there’s no room in this game for one little pawn
We are used and abused but willingly so because deep down inside we’re feeling so low
I allowed my life to be up for grabs with all at my back allowing the stabs
She tried to beat me and he aimed to hurt me, I fought her back but he won you see
When I got too tired to stay awake he saw an advantage he just had to take
I barely came to when he was just about done this time I had lost and he thought he had won
But he’ll remain in my mind as the tables get turned and when that day comes I’ll watch him
get burned
See as the rest of the world goes down for a sleep I avoid losing consciousness thanks to
that creep
So now here I sit where I sat at the start of a life I should’ve never been a part
But I’ll never forget all the lessons I learned and I gained some relationships I definitely
earned
So now as I lay here I ponder the past I hope it allows me to make a new good thing last
This road I found to self destruction has become the start of a new life including my mom
Good bye and take care as soon you will know where you stand with those people whose true colors will show
The end or the beginning is presented right here, to remember the struggle but discard the fear.
Cliche Heaven
Be it as it may I'll try my hand at some clichés
and address the elephant in the room soon when pigs fly.
It’s a win- win situation, put your game face on, work the crowd
as we wrap our heads around comparing apples to orange.
We are all data driven, with an ace in the hole, stick a sock in it
while stepping up to the plate and peeling back the onion
and easily hit it out of the ballpark with a world of hurt.
Be my team player, run with this, my agent of change
but don’t throw me under the bus as you think outside the box.
We can touch base later seeing where the rubber meets the road
and put boots on the ground, a perfect storm, deal with it.
Here’s my two cents, if it works I'll go off the beaten path
driving route 66 on the road not taken when it’s up for grabs,
and taking a walk in the sun, learning the new math.
That said, don’t put me out to pasture, wait for it,
there’s no sign of my slowing down, its going viral.
These are the signs of the times, take the bull by its horns,
It’s a brave new tomorrow and all bets are off.
Don’t force my hand to be up close and personal
I’m a rebel without a cause and to die for.
Don’t get bent out of shape raising the bar in the winds of change
There’s something for everyone, just another babe in the woods.
Stay tuned, like, duh, as a matter of fact, at the end of the day,
it’s a last ditch effort as you live and learn the luck of the draw.
Pay it forward, that’s the ticket, give and take, get a wake up call,
same song and dance, say what you will, you’re as sharp as a tack.
It’s all smoke and mirrors, just splitting hairs to reinvent the wheel
and walk the red carpet for a quick buck to pay as you go
Heaven help us,
I believe there's an app for that.
WHAT DO YOU DO
By Roy Merritt
What do you when your neighbor
Seems to have lost his mind
What do you do when your best friend
Walks around when blind
What do you when your lover
Seems a stranger from afar
What do you do when your ride
Drives drunk inside his car
Don’t pat ‘em on the back don’t give ‘em a kiss
Give ‘em one up side the head teach ‘em to resist
Do you shrug your shoulders
Think it’s just a simple phase
Do you just ignore it all
And pray for better days
Do you slowly walk away
Do you refuse and tune out
Do you weep for heaven’s mercy
Swim away like a trout
Don’t pat ‘em on the back don’t give ‘em a kiss
Give ‘em one up side the head teach ‘em to resist
Do you pray to almighty God
Do you call their MD
Do you just give up on them
In fear of them do flee
Do you go hire a shrink
To delve deep inside their head
Do you tie ‘em down with ropes
And force ‘em to stay in bed
Don’t pat ‘em on the back don’t give ‘em a kiss
Give ‘em one up side the head teach ‘em to resist
Do you show your rage
Do you express your shock
Do you drag ‘em down to the river
And throw ‘em off the dock
Do you set fire to the house
Do you burn it down
Do you push ‘em to the floor
As it crumbles to the ground
Don’t pat ‘em on the back don’t give ‘em a kiss
Give ‘em one up side the head teach ‘em to resist
Its all up to you now
Nothing right now is clear
I’ve done my part so far
I’ve done it all this year
But if one thing is certain
They shouldn’t drink this wine
Everything is up for grabs
Our country is on the line
Don’t pat ‘em on the back don’t give ‘em a kiss
Give ‘em one up side the head teach ‘em to resist
Don’t pat ‘em on the back don’t give ‘em a kiss
Give ‘em one up side the head teach ‘em to resist