Crawford boxes
Wearing white soxs
Cindy and Chase
Built their case
About the train
Transporting the financial grain
Seeking fortune with fame
Going through each state
Fishing tempting bait
Until hiding in a bush
The reality push
Stupid economy
Transitioning to Daddy and Mommy
Super modeling soda pop
Choo Choo would not stop
For the Crawford boxes
Wearing white soxs
Better one will survive
Others will say goodbye
Until banks stepped in
Deciding who would win
GQ pinstripes
With the Broadway lights
Ending championship fight
Turning off the lights
Saying everyone is all right
And good night
Putting the dolls back into the Crawford boxes
Still selling South Side White Soxs
Penny Lane is dead
They all said
Took her out back
Gave the Aussie a shovel attack
Later shots were heard
Witnessed only by the nocturnal birds
Observing the murder go down
After bullets made the deadly sound
Companions who party
Should be a little more smarty
Since someone could drug the cupcakes
Served by the friendly fake
When she was baked
But true love
Watching from above
Saw the couple
Facing trouble
Working together
Fighting the hatred weather
Brought Penny Lane back
Who suffered a shovel attack
Now alive
Penny Lane grabbed the cycle wings ride
Big girls they did sing
Knowing one thing
They evened the score
Winning the war
Despite wearing facial gore
Penny Lane next time you meet
Enjoy the celebration sweets
With a true mate
A holiday worthy date
Especially when you both defend
Not needing any blokey men
279.
The Volcanic Eruption Communication Model
Volcano, the sender
Pyroclastics, the message
From the inner and under
Explodes the great rage!
Space, the medium
Sky, the receiver
Of this mad pandemonium
Towards up, up, up there!
But touched not directly
The target of utterance
And pyros echoed to thee
With unforestalled exuberance!
-11/16/2014
(Dumarao)
*interprets my formulated Communication Model
her outfit feckless
modeling for fashion week
the age of fifteen
chic to most of us
magazine cover worthy
still grandmas baby
Used to be sex scandals..Treason spys betrayal lies
Did some wear suits and sandals? But why
Digress? We see no less..indeed such retrograde
Examples..And regression; there is no
Suppression of avatistic, evil actions death
Is a (great industry) s r a..Rituals of a low-rachy..Genocide wars collide.' Who can make the biggest gain.? Laud that nation
Sedate its citizens again..desensitize dis-harmonize.' Deifiy and demonize.' Play the chords dim the lights.' Then Bathe in blood
Is that your delight.? It pays to kill, are the innocents better.? In your estimation.? I mean? Is it a higher pay
grade getter..? I hear
The grinding of many gears.' The rash apportion.' The play on fear..To kill the elders.' Was just a sop to the crowd whose morals you frayed..? Or shredded morelike; zouds.! And here we see the basest tricks.'
Exposed despised..Example Scandle ectremely 'Sic'
fearlessly daring and heartfully caring, a support role model
Where a series of
messages fly across
profiles inflated
in balloons of
hot air.
Where a model with doctored skin
sells better cells to cover your acne,
where people 'blackout' Tuesday
and appropriate taking a knee.
Where truth is a golden ticket, impossible to find,
where 'likes' replace juries, and we forget to #bekind.
Where stories are created at the push of a key,
replacing where dreams and drafting used to be.
Where a voice called Alexa can order, suggest and locate,
but also listen and through silent algorithms manipulate.
Where faceless Gemini can offer names for your new-born,
an ironic namesake, a duplicitous invader on your own front lawn.
And most of the time
those ongoing anonymous
messages simply
ghost
A house will stand when pillars five
Are cared for so it can survive.
People – hearts that build the way,
Their trust decides if dreams will stay.
Organisation - bones and frame,
Without clear roles, all falls to blame.
Processes - the hidden streams,
That carry work, that shape our dreams.
Information - truth in hand,
The compass strong in shifting sand.
Technology - the tools we wield,
To plant the seeds in future’s field.
Leave one behind, the walls will shake,
The floor will bend, the beams may break.
Hold all as one, the home will grow,
Through storm and sun, through rain and snow.
Blood rushes behind my eyes. Ocean waves
crash as I turn my head, tilting to get a better
view of you. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? No
view is adequate. How should one look at David?
My lips are dry. I’m fainting, surely. Cells melt
and mix, transfixed as you walk by. Unknowing.
Quyeer times emit blazing signs..And some ex-boy friends?
Is this karma divine? mi5 say its Putin..' a prime topic for
Them...And its taken a fortnight with henceforth..No why
Where or whens..From them.' Yet it seems rather sloppy to
Be (a Russian affair?) And arson too primitive.' I think thats
Quite fair.? Just an ass-umption.' To try to open the door.'
Of secrecy thats been holding karmas secret deposits oh
Dear..I guessed such was er?? Coming..Hmm?? I wrote a
Poem before.!! Now its been shat-tered all over the world
And whats more.' Theres an outcome to happen.' Once the
Lube is applied.' As it was maybe in the beginning.?? Or
Will this turn upon lies? Maybe death? Well of the
Truth.' Will be the out-come? Lets await the putrid offerings
Of ( some media bums.?)
Amorous fair
Breath of fresh air
Blooming flower.
Everything was going to fade away,
When you collapsed on the last day.
Everything was going to fall apart,
Nothing could hold you on the surface!
Everything reminded me of you –
The way you presented yourself to me,
The way you showed the courtesies,
The most glorious story I have ever read is you!
Every tiny finger was worshipped by me,
Every curve was felt intensely,
Every scar was celebrated with sacred passion,
Everything would be nothing if it were not yours.
Any dull caricature reminds me of your sweetest face,
The intonation of your voice still haunts me to the grave,
Your cutest tiptoes still seek me till the 5 o'clock sun,
The entire you is the perfect smile of a godlike creature to me!
The way I have seen you,
The way you were worshipped,
The demeanour to which I have never felt bored,
The alcove of my heart always welcomes you!
Shows of gracefulness
Despite of body shaming
Done with sobriety.
gorgeousness of the model outshines the dress
do not misinterpret my meaning please
the dress is an Anya Ayoung Chee, a worthy designer
created from gorgeous fabric, she has tremendous flow, excellent lines
young svelte model’s beauty surpasses this emerald, gold, silver gown
during fashion week, we reporters do not see the gown at all
completely upstaged by the African goddess wearing her
Mocha or milky skin
Once in a lifetime grin
Delicate derrière
Elegant emerald stare
Luxurious luscious hair
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