Long Wannabee Poems
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I,
Wanna strike a match in your heart if you let me, try,
I, promise I will not stop.
I’ve, got, to give you all that I have had,
In the past, I only ever gave half.
Your heart, my star, has landed, right here.
You near, lift me up, above, my love, my drug,
You’re my everlasting,
Listening, laughing, with you.
Never blue, only if you ask me to,
Will I quit, but never be tragic, ‘cause I know you’re fantastic.
Fantasy, you’re mine, never lying, all true,
Everything comes from you,
Into us, build our love, become my continuum.
Continue to feel ‘em, no fool, used tool, creating illusion’s,
Never becoming immune, to heart ache, I break,
Every time I say truth.
Never had the voice to, a-maze, lost in my confusion,
Wandering allusion’s, memory of tragedy,
Reality is comedy.
I laugh, take it back, leave me to my spiral,
Leave me and go viral.
Find fame, it’s lame, wannabee a nobody,
Or someone, somebody, anybody, something,
Dreams ring, for me, telephone is calling.
Fame and fortune drawing, us to, hope for,
A better tomorrow, reaching out of sorrow.
Searching, just a king, waiting on a future,
Know I’d never leave ya.
Fist raised, heap praise, fighting for our freedom.
Writing up a new kingdom,
Stole a thought and only went and built us both a fiefdom.
Come and feast your eyes on, a thing that taste like bacon.
Glitterballs, come walk the halls, perform a free dance with me,
Make me your nobility, hopeless-ly, endless-ly.
I will wait in hand, I stand, give me a direction,
Show me your perfection.
Crystalized, fireflies,
Your eyes energize me; energizer bunny.
Love’s cruel, use me, using your own rules,
Anything is possible, yet all this is improbable?
If you would only wish it, into your existence,
I will move the world sideways,
Moving your in all ways...
Always.
(C)2023 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I hereby attempt to satisfy poplar demand
as best I possibly can…
Seeking more creative ways to stop porch thieves?
Here are some more in which to believe
Hang those dirty diapers on a clothesline
right above the package ~ this works just fine
For extra effect, make sure the diapers have been sitting in a pile
for quite a long while…
Here’s one that has those wannabee thieves running away
Post a ‘Beware of Skunk’ sign not far away
And this concludes my tips this time
for which I ask nothing, not one thin dime
Where is the anger! The rage! And the courage, I expected to see?
Why is everyone so complacent?
Evangelical Christians have endorsed a cheat, a liar, a bigot, and a misogynist
because he's pro-life, God will forgive the rest; hallelujah!
Democracy used to cannibalize democracy; please pass the head of state!
A cult has formed, like the Nazi Youth, who ogled Hitler with worshiping eyes.
Those in charge have stooped so low; that they bow down to this wannabee Fuhrer
with their brown noses prominently showing above their pasted-on smiles!
If you're part of this cult, reason can't save you! You'll die for this trickster!
Chanting NO COLLUSION, NO COLLUSION! Though you know, it isn't true.
As for the rest of you, it's time you woke up!
Wipe off those cynical grins and VOTE, like your voice matters
like your vote matters, like your freedom matters, and pray that they still do!
I'm neither a democrat nor a republican,
I can't stomach the hypocrisy of either party!
As a proud Canadian, I can only empathize with your problem,
but, I'm an impartial observer, immune to the fake news, you might say.
There's no defending this President!
But his Republican stooges, Fox news, and the evangelist elite do just that!
A con-man stole their integrity and bamboozled his way into the White House.
Now, like Russia's Putin, he wants to be king!
And he'll challenge and or change the constitution to make it so!
Where is your anger! Your rage! And your courage?
I hear some Americans praise him like he's the second coming!
And insisting his Presidency was prophesied in the pages of the bible.
In what wacky world is it even possible to venerate Donald Trump
as an instrument of God? Many are oblivious to the truth,
even when his narcissism and hyperbole are so blatantly obvious!
Once more, the human psyche's tapped and loyalty siphoned off
to advance the goals of one corrupt man.
In the words of Jesus, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do!"
May God have mercy on our souls if he wins again!
(free Verse)
Mar.24, 2018
Afraid to admit that you may have some flaws,
you hide your talents behind a veil of doubt.
But competing with vultures with beaks and claws,
the odds are stacked; you need to figure things out.
There's serious competition, so to win,
focus on where you're going, not where you've been.
You cannot rely on luck or magic spells
and must play the cards fate dealt, despite your tells.
Reality's just something to rise above:
you cannot allow it to stand in your way.
There's no scientific way to describe love,
emotion-fueled feelings come into play.
Who you are depends on who you want to be:
choose to be a winner or a wannabee.
Life offers no road maps; you are on your own,
a free-willed individual, not a clone.
WARNING: THE CONTENTS OF THS POEM MAY BE
DANGEROUS TO YOUR PHYSICAL AND MENTAL WELL-BEING
(Photo of the Two Lovers is available on contest site),
As any physical therapist worth his salt will tell you
These two wannabee lovers are inviting big, big trouble!*
Photo-analysis
Look at the neck of the figure on the left
bent almost horizontal to reach the eager lips
of the poor figure on the right, whose hyperbolic
swayed back is just a lower lordosis ache away**
While the taller of the two is asking for severe
C3 - C-5 vertebral displacement, at minimum
'Shorty,' up on those tippy-toes, will no doubt
tear both her quadriceps and hamstring muscles
~ screaming in agony before the kiss is halfway through
***********************
So, OK. I confess. This is not an actual photo-analysis
But I am really pissed. (Tsk, tsk. Vulgarity; I know)
Why can't I ever get a long, wet, lascivious
mouth-watering, juicy kiss like this? I ask you!
Well, I've never had lordosis or kyphosis
My diagnosis is -- you guessed it -- halitosis
January 05, 2019
Picture Prompt Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
1st Prize - Halitosis Radiation Bombardment Surgery
Presiding Surgeon: Bobby 'Come What' May
Surgical Nurse: Caren 'Cut-and-Pray' Krutsinger
____________________________________________________________
*Note the clever repetition, ala America's poet laureate, Trump, of 'big, big,'
one of the his (and my) awesome, innovative stylistic devices.
**Note the eerie similarity to Mick Jagger's line, 'It's just a shout away,'
from one of his-stoned out 60's albums. Gives you goosebumps, eh?!
Ha, ha: It gave my parents an Excedrin headache...
Continous rhyming
Misplaced the pennies I saved up to buy me a dream.
Lost all the marbles I tried to keep inside of me,
But nothing tastes like home
And nothing outside can beat my dome.
People in corners tell secrets you don’t want to hear.
Liars and truth sayer's speak words like they are diarrhoea.
Love’s Angels sing at night and I want to smash them with all my might.
Kill all the goodness and split open all of the sores.
Wounds never heal when you are fighting for the wrong cause.
Rivers always flow; the wind it always blows,
But lonely as I am, I’ll never admit to defeat
And happy as I am, you’ll never see me in the street.
A ghost man with no name,
I have no interest in fame.
Just give me the money to buy myself out of this job.
Just send me the freedom I need to write the stories that I want.
The things we dream in dreams,
Are never quite what they seem.
Met me a reader who has never written a thing.
Wannabee singer; I wrote lyrics, but I could not sing.
Losers lose their mojo; don’t ask me where it goes.
Princes in palaces; I want everyone to go!
Princes and paupers are all the same when the end comes.
Death is the eternal entity and the end of all fun.
Everyone wants to live a life without the struggle and doubt,
But life is a razor and we stand on the edge waiting to be taken out.
Love is memory I hope to God I never feel again.
Continuous rhyming…same ol’ same…
(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
The Brick Sayer
Tim is painting outside since it’s raining inside
Stroke upon cuddle one step at unfolding time
One inch brush gently on 10 squares of façade
The wannabee Buddhist thing when life is no race
Brightening enlightening mud bricks with caress
Whitewashing if that may still be said in South Africa
Tom Sawyer comes to mind as he glosses the fence
Sells the privilege for an apple core and a toad but
Political correctness has long banned the Twain
Now he moves the artist bristles for fine edges
Bordering on the insane he chooses to not employ
masking tape as that could cheat mask and disclosure
The paint ceases to flow as Tim seizes his furthering day
Watching it dry is the hard part of soft meditation so he
Desists and refrains but insists that some wall has vanished
25th July 2018
Tired
Retired
So, I won’t be
Re tired… I don’t give up I just don’t respond… Queens never compete with pawns.
So, take those slivers you call lips.
That look like uncooked liver.
As you talk your lips quiver.
Always an echo in my chamber.
I just said that, but you repeat it, like what I said, was said to a dummy with a wooden head. I am already an Allstar
I slam dunk from afar …
I slam dunk on these punks never serve the ball drunk when i come on the Court the game will abort. !
Cause I scatter these critters that are pitifully bitter, they parrot and compete they Aim without reach, instead of learning what I teach; They sweat my technique, my style can’t be breached .
Stop trying to undermine, what’s mine is mine- You think I am a has been and that may be true .. I may need to retire because I am tired.
But ive never been a ‘’wannabee’ ‘ or a ‘’never was’’ that never was… I’ll give my seat to someone with love.
But they must be worthy and not someone dirty wit .. itty bitty brains with lips that look worn .
Yes, this is a scorn.
Come correct and stop trying to dis me with my own lines. there are better ways to get attention,and on someone’s mind ! Attention whores get little attention yet ,create dissention; Come correct an don’t talk to me out the side of your neck. . Anyway, I see you., And still I give you nuff respect . Stop competing with someone who has already paved the road.. carried the load and will explode if you don’t stop trying to lip sync my name, you got on my uniform but your not in my game…
FEELS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO
January feels like a lifetime ago,
breathing freely in a hearty party atmosphere.
The wheels on the van go round and round.
A storm loomed and we stood on Psalm 91.
The storm couldn’t reach where God’s hand breathed.
The wheels on the van go round and round
and our family goes up and down in reverie.
Oh how God blessed us with a solid gold watch.
Extended family joined us - my parents’ siblings,
the youngest with their spouses. And the doors
open and shut...open and shut. Shuttled to downtown,
my brother-in-law at the helm. Nobody wore masks,
nobody was sick, nobody needed operations.
Smooth operator, our Lord, who planned this folly,*
this tralala adventure — his peace and safety parlayed.
We blast music from the fifties, sixties, seventies.
Up, up we go from dynastic overflow, generational
happiness in our strobing blue jamboree — guilt-free.
Celebration of two great people — defined by hips,
superglued twins from different mothers. Children
of forever after happiness. Blissfulness before March.
The ants go marching on the calendar screen, right
away we can’t breathe, thankfully not covid. The ants
weave in and out, revolving hospital doors,
pass through, separate, and go home — the square dance
for cool kids, not so cool. Wannabee ankle-biters** - cruel.
In the bus we bust a gut**...months later Dad busts a chest.
Dosido here we go...mom and dad take turns, for the best -
we hope!
8/18/2020
Popular songs: Wheels on the Bus, Ants Go Marching
Bible, Psalm 91 is about protection
Some square dance lingo used in this poem - such as
pass through, separate and go home, dosido
*folly here is meant to mean to mean celebratory fun
**ankle-biters are children
***bust a gut - laughing
What I see in stars above is extremely wearisome,
with useless inane details that I wish I never knew.
Light years, space-time, black holes, big bangs,
myriads of pricks 'n specks a billion miles away - who cares?
I've been over-dubbed, deluded, and robbed,
of the romance, songs, stories,
and delightful spiritual legends
that ancient master star gazers saw
in stars above.
Hunter and archers with sword, belt, arrows and shield,
A veritable zoo of animals - lion, ram, bull, bear, llama, emu,
goat, scorpion, fish and severed heads, under arms.
Pots and pans, the scrub-a-dub dish that
ran away with the spoon.
Regal Heracles, Achilles and Troy in battles raging skyward
Bickering Gods, Virgins, Kings and Queens with kids and twins.
Action-men Pharaohs, wannabee Gods,
leaping from pyramid tops,
onto the ladder of the Milky Way, which is -
The River of Heaven, Road of Souls
The Spilled Breast Milk of Hera the Mother God
The seed-strew pathway the mighty Emus trod,
pecking their way,
In stars above.
We all should get out and look up more!
Gazing with ancient eyes into the sky above,
reveling to see and enjoy what they saw,
in stars above.