Long Upping Poems
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They try many things to get you down
to this gambling Mecca of a seashore town.
In many directions, the management of these places will go.
It has all been carefully designed to get your dough.
Free meals, free drinks, free rooms, and more.
However, they are not as generous as they were before.
Those houses are now in a precarious situation.
Other gaming places are popping up across the nation.
You would think they’d be upping the ante with their offers.
However, they don’t easily open up their coffers.
Business will not be so glorious
if they continue becoming more parsimonious.
I do not listen because my heart hurts when I hear the sad, and the mean.
And I get way too loud when I hear the happy. Sad, angry people frown at
My giant head-throwing witch cackling laugh. It hurts them.
I do not listen because it is better for my tender empathetic soul not to hear
What might make me feel bad all day long. However, people think I am listening,
Because I am the great pretender.
My head is nodding in all the right places, giving these people my comfort eyes,
As I am expertly not listening, fooling them, so I can retain the part of myself
that desperately needs to retain hope, joy, innocence, and optimism.
Uh-oh. Something has gone terribly wrong.
I am shaken into active listening, as I can tell by the person’s face
that they are not spewing out drama, or one-upping
Stories, just to be talking. I start to listen, learning who I need to help today.
My only talent, is being a maestro at knowing when and how to listen.
didn't
i look up
hoping to
see the sky fall
you ignore down
is its opposite
writing from the grooves
that print my fingers
i see the hapiness
i could have goat
did he mean got
caught a splinter of light in fingered tips
rode an autumn leaf
on its way down the drain
Upstart starts up
i write of crysal shape cities
trapped within the concrete at my feet
i write of ring arose
with clouds of differing greys
of eyes with nothing behind
cuts and bruises outline
my prone
trying to never learn
writing lies the truth wont turn
did ya miss me
should have bought better scopes
Sneak behind you with unsheathed pen
your sopping bled
just fuel-topical or what
for my quill
will to not have one
Upping daisies in liquid green
as breeze trickles by each blades
never use my mind to fight
all you unarmed
the buzzing fly in attic space
where from side slanted windows
moon fingers
from an empty box
pull and pool
with lines of light
dancing dust fairies
diamondize in its gentle stroke
this poem has a lot of ups and downs
My wallet is empty of cash
When it appears which is rarely
I usually give it away
Doesn’t really matter, not really
It’s gone as soon as I get it anyway
It never lasts but that's okay
Besides, I have plenty of credit
VISA, MasterCard, Discovery
And the more I “spend”
With that lending hand
The more trust I build
Upping my score. Score!
Up the stakes, wait, change the rules?
Now, it’s me who can’t trust, who?
Sky rocketing interest rates
A debt that’s out of control
Taxing me everywhere I go
The scam’s all decorated
Beautifully choreographed
Beautifully camouflaged
All alluring, so endearing
As I assume my plastic smile
At my recently installed
Big beautiful screen on the wall.
Upon the lakes they do swim gliding so effortlessly
These species of graceful waterfowl the largest of anatidae family
In their beautiful pure white plumage with elegant long curved necks
Blunted beaks and big webbed feet living together by water's edge
These magnificent creatures of the waters are a sign of purity and love
Remind us of the blessings in our relationships a gift from heaven above
If all goes well in there pairing they will stay together for rest of their life’s
When they glide upon the waters of our awareness they bring us deep insight
These birds of Mother Nature they’re exquisite and unique
Bearing exotic waves of beauty to our dreams as we do sleep
They swim around in our divine mind adding colours of delight
Encouraging us to spread our wings and take our glorious flight
Courting occurs on rivers and lakes throughout the known world
Whilst they live on plant life tiny fish and scattered bread as well
You might see them duck their heads as they feed upon their foods
But you better beware of their aggression whilst they protect their broods
The elegance of these myterious birds are displayed in a ballet dancer
Dancing into our emotions with their romantic artisticpower
Transforming our souls with delightful moves bringing us into harmony
With a brilliant performance of balance, control and technical flexibility
The beautiful dying swan pours its heart out as death draws near
Greeting this with an exceptional beautiful ending balladeer
Its modulated voice singing the swan-song of death so sweet
This harmonious sound can be heard as its last creative piece
The crown retain the ownership to all unmarked mute swans
A ceremony takes place once a year and lasts for five days long
Swan upping is a tradition dated back to the twelfth century
Markers row up and down the rivers paying tribute to the Queen
In England they’re a protected species and owned by Her Majesty
The wing spans on these wonderful birds can extent to several feet
These sacred aquatic birds male and female cobs and pens
Those little cygnets and swanlings on a swan lake that never ends
© Copyright KC.Leake
8th December 2014
All Rights Reserved
As you walk in the door. You throw your coat on a chair.
I tell you darling it dosent go there.
You move it to the bed .As you turn around .
I run my fingers through Your long sweet blonde hair
You smile and pull me closer your body has a delicious odour
Now I have a stirring inside me an ardor.
You unbutton my shirt your hands small and warm.
I kiss your soft neck and feel the pounding of your blood
As it courses through my lips. Tickling your vein with my tongue.
Tasting the salty perspiration as you lean closer in.
You run your hands round to my back.
I let your hair fall in my face. Both of our hearts are upping the pace
You gently slowly pull my shirt of my body. As it falls to the floor.
I kick close the door. Nothing to interrupt our hobby.
I pull up your t-shirt. And a huge smile is on your face.
Yes our love is going to hurt. But it will be full of grace.
Now naked we stand and just hug each other.
Theres no need to rush. We are proper true lovers.
Lots of kissing lots of hugging and total respect.
This time will be special as they always are.
Just you an I together forever we never expect
Anything but the best in this our workout spar.
Giggling and laughing as young lovers are.
My favorite President is yet to be
He may well not go down in history
For he'll do what really needs to be done
Antagonizing almost everyone under the sun
First he'll fix Social Security; it's running short of cash
Upping retirement age to 68, a move the 'swamp' will call rash
Then he'll crack down on Medicare/Medicaid fraud and crime
Infuriating the clout-heavy cheaters in America's medicinal slime
Next he'll free up school choice for the poor, not just the rich
More vouchers and charter schools: teachers unions will yell and beech
He'll clean up the ghettos, bust up the gangs, and load up the jails
Violent felons and their Park Avenue backers will want him impaled
He'll break the stranglehold on free speech and inquiry in universities
Big-tech CEO's will squirm, when he ends their totalitarian strip-tease
He'll repair the military, building the strongest defense ever
Daring China and Russia to come get us -- They won't; they're too clever
He'll veto delusionary pork projects which taxpayers can't afford
Boosting old-fashioned 'capitalism' -- for that he will not be adored
As for climate change, he'll pressure China, India and the other slackers
To reign in their CO2 abuse, while the world calls him a bully and hacker
Truth is, my favorite President-to-be will probably never get elected
And if somehow he does, I hope from angry mobs he'll be protected
~ Inspired by, but not an entry in L. Milton Hankins'
'Your Favorite President Contest' ~
This epidemic re:
murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid
fixation allowing, enabling
and providing terrifying
trappings, whence went Pandora out the lid
anger loosed maniacally gun down
(in S-L-O-W mo) recorded by hid
madding crowd, each person
locked in crosshair grid
source (perhaps pathetic plan
premeditated) employing did
da ding from flying bullets,
a coterie upping the ante vis a vis bid
ding fare thee from odious
loading incendiary fiery clips.
Trigger happy homicidal maniacs slake thirst
to take aim in billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray
with pump posse city,
a congregated engaged groupon
of people), with egregious pay
shunt and methodically
mowing down, a slew - nay
re: doth unsuspecting
victim aware - delivering may
hem to this anonymous
American citizen as well
family and survivors, who lay
down their sorrows,
which bring revulsion and gray
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.
Death be not proud,
nor ought airtime allocated to these
heinous cavalier avengers
foe tee eight-hour special (proffers
twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access
to sophisticated high caliber compact
offspring doth please
manifesting those prize pride
killing machine owners never freeze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses
even a lil whippersnapper kite runner
unleashing whipping cords
lacerating more so than ropes will ever do
necessitate strong control
to stem violence as disease.
...They make sex just like a handshake,
but soon enough you will find
throwing out what should be valued
does bad things to womens' minds,
makes it very hard to pair-bond,
be happy with a good man,
they compare him to others who
have become their also-rans.
The sex loses all value and
so does the partner himself,
becomes seen as replaceable,
as the divorce rates does tell,
leaving broken-up families,
endless drama in the courts,
all because feminists once said
it’s freeing to act like whores.
Worst still, they encourage the end,
proclaim marriage is a trap,
give cover to breaking a home
by declaring all men trash.
Make women think it’s a good thing
to shatter lives and to rend,
since women now initiate
divorce at eighty percent!
Upping their risk of poverty,
that their kids might be abused,
that they’ll end up dysfunctional,
or even shoot up a school.
And more and more these young women
never do have families,
they were told that their greatest cause
was the ‘right’ to kill babies!
The one thing girls alone can do,
the source of our {whole species",
and feminists taught them it was
okay to kill kids freely.
Taught them it wasn’t a person,
declared that a human life
matters much less than convenience,
or fun on a Friday night.
Like savages from days of old
sacrificing to their ‘gods,’
they butcher those than they should love,
don’t even thing it that odd.
Even now, when our birth rates fall
so low that we can’t replace,
they still clamber to kill unborns;
a cruel, barbaric disgrace.
Feminists have taught women that
their children have no value,
don’t even have to let them live,
much less raise them if you do.
And they claim that this is ‘progress,’
this destructive, awful creed…
women less happy each decade,
and still they won’t stop the bleed.
It’s killed societies before,
no need to follow that path,
you’re best rejecting all their lies,
yes, feminism is crap.
NEW: Sep
When the guy at the garage
who’d serviced my car
said ”Ahoy There Me Matey!”
and added ”Oooh Aarrrr!”
I just stood there perplexed
and confused as to why
he was wearing an eye patch
across his good eye
“Look I don’t understand
why you’re acting this way”
“Cos the 19th’s World Talk
Like A Pirate Talks day”
Then I asked how my car was
as if to tempt fate
“Landlubber, me hearty
‘tis in pieces of eight!”
The Diary So Far
Jan
to an air infused with wilting pine
and the first eight lines of auld lang syne
new year proclaimed for all its worth:
hope, happiness and peace on earth
it kissed and danced about the floor
- then yawned and fell asleep once more.
Feb
I wish to thank a roman priest
who died in two six nine
as he's the reason centuries on
we now have valentine
I like the verses on his cards
and how for just one day
he writes nice things about my wife
that I sign anyway
but I like his chocolates best of all
as they melt away the thought
of last month's resolutions
and that gym pass that I bought.
Mar
I don't see spring as others do
with nature's love therein
- that sense of hope when winter leaves
and warmer days begin
for come that warmth I see but death
as battles march once more
just like my name derived from mars
- the roman god of war.
Apr
Dear Gary
We're printing your poems in a series of books
to be studied by pupils at school.
Please accept an advance of ten thousand pounds.
You are great!
Kind Regards
April Fool.
May
in any given year this month
is so unique because
no other month begins or ends
on the same day that may does.
Jun
It’s around this time of year
when summer’s sun is realigned
I’m reminded of that solstice
at stonehenge in '93
I’d ‘rolled’ up for a concert
when it dawned upon my mind:
”See Ancient Stones And Rock” was not
The Stones I’d hoped to see.
Jul
Five days on the Thames
Rounded up, ringed then released.
Summer’s Swan Upping.
Aug
When Gaius Octavius became Emperor Augustus
they renamed the month after him.
Just Imagine the outcry if a leader today
did something like this on a whim.