What if, we are all being lied to
What if, all the facts are untrue
What if, they just want to control you
What, if it's true, do you do?
What if, when we had the plandemic
What if, it was planned from day one
What if, the brand new vaccination
What if, it was already done
What if, with the weather still warming
What if, all the figures are fake
What if, though we are getting warmer
What if, we are not going to bake
What if, when the temperature rises
What if, it does not create hell
What if, it's just wholely delightful
What if, we end up doing well
What if, all the so called solutions
What if, they just make matters worse
What if, they are not our lifesavers
What if, they are more of a curse
What if, all the movers and shakers
What if, they are pulled from their towers
What if, we just kick all their arses
What if, we remove all their powers
Morning Thoughts
Miracle Man
3-13-2024
Too many, have become not givers, but takers,
and too few are found, to be movers, and shakers.
Many make lame excuses while assigning blame,
letting another do it will be their claim to fame.
Excuses add nothing toward problem solving,
some turn a blind eye as the problem is revolving.
What ever happened to the term “make it happen,”
dependability to some is just their jaw “flappen”.
Those found continually making some excuse,
usually burden another with mental abuse.
But excuse makers are a lot like rudderless boats,
they’re content to just drift as long as it floats.
Warfare, what is fair about war?
People are suffering everywhere.
Death, Destruction, Dignity lost.
Horrendous acts without counting the cost,
Of the irreparable damage caused by war
What is war for?
War is the ultimate sin,
That festers and grows
Once it begins
It quickly overflows.
Taking on a life of its own,
Causing unrest to all humankind,
Who leave their kith and kin behind
What is war for?
Make peace, not war,
We have heard this adage,
Many times before
Why don't we heed this advice?
And implore,
The movers and shakers
To think twice.
And add up the score,
Then answer the question,
What is war for?
If these wars don't end soon
There will be nobody here
The world will be empty,
Barren and drear
What was the reason?
Do you know? my friend?
Who's purpose was it?
For the means to our end
they were not just grandparents
they were not just movers and shakers
they were exuberant, enthusiastic
and they knew how to sparkle with joy
I was lucky to have them
I Drove my Bugatti,
to my Buddy's "G's party.
I didn't know many there,
at my Buddy "G's party.
Poet's day Trader's,
The Movers and Shakers.
Some Star Movie Makers,
The Cruisers and fakers,
Dancer's and Sailor's.
Rock Music Player's,
With "G's" Party favors.
Classic Hip and Arty
One Crazy Party.
I dozed off in My Bugatti.
I drove My Roll's Canardly,
To "Ole" Fuzy's party,
I knew everybody,
at "Ole Fuzy's" party.
Boones Farm in glass,
And some smoking Grass.
Foaming Miller's Frothy.
With Pocket Rocket Poly.
Led Zeppelin to Hollie's,
A classic Hippy Party.
So, Party Hardy.
And follow Your Dreams
to Your New Bugatti.
Yeah.
A Rolls Canardly.
is a Vehicle that Rolls Down
One Hill, and Can Hardly
Roll up the Next.
Butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers
Wound up famous in a nursery rhyme
Plied their trades, were movers and shakers
Remembered from a long-forgotten time.
If I were famous, would it be for naught,
For some great deed, or something I wrote?
Should I aspire to the political scene, or not,
Perhaps on the big screen, for a notable quote?
Would I want a monument built in the square,
Have my name celebrated on a special day
To have such aspirations, I would say “beware!”
If I were famous, I think I would say... “No way!”
Makes me think I should not aspire to fame
But only to be remembered by foes and friends,
Who may, after I am gone, invoke my name
How fondly I would hope, well, it all depends.
FIFTH PLACE WINNER
Written February 13, 2021
For "If I Were Famous" Contest
Sponsored by Joe Sandler
for each,
God has given a purpose
some be movers and shakers
as a mighty oak
most, however,
are but a simple blade of grass
on which a butterfly alights
He's not in a hurry, he takes his sweet time
A man once rich, now worth but a dime
Twenty years sober, a hard drinker he was
Frequenter of casinos, in his long-ago buzz
A man who stumbled badly; he fell from grace
Who hobnobbed with movers and shakers, an ace
Now enveloped in mystery, nondescriptly dressed
His past unknown, his cards held close to his vest
A man destined for greatness, hailing from wealth
Who chose gambling and drinking ---
Now sober again, in good health ---
His shuffling gate makes me dizzy, in its blissful stealth
August 12, 2019
Bring a Character to Life Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
How many remember ye ole gramophone players
Music from an earlier time, such melody makers
We had to place the needle
Tween the grooves to play The Beatles
What a joyous era for those movers and shakers
With warm, loving memories of my mom,
appreciation and blessing I frame.
Like poets of old, I’m penning this psalm
to give praise to those who earn that good name.
Movers and shakers of the happy home
risk takers, bakers and merrymakers
mood breakers / servants with a rare genome
Salutations to moms, our caretakers.
Even moms sometimes feel failure, defeat;
circumvent arguments, speak peace instead.
Once in a while, she will need to retreat -
grant her a garden with grace overhead.
A garden where mothers can go to pray;
a place that provides strength for each new day.
July 2, 2019
contest: NA the day away
host: Lu Loo
COLOR FORMS
The movers and shakers of art delight.
In the shadowbox-brain they regain sight.
Dear Dorothy clicks her sarcoline heels.
Her striped boat sailing on sea-hued teals.
Zenith dawn blazes in coquelicot hue.
The artist’s tipsy trees blushed pink and blue.
Majestic Oz - smaragdine-jeweled city.
Ponies prance romantic colors - witty.
Brush brush brush then fill the scarecrow with straw.
His prideful chest overloaded and raw.
The movers and shakers of art transform
Fairy tales into surreal color forms.
10/12/2018
Anthony Slausen’s The Paint Movers Contest
sarcoline - flesh colored
coquelicot - (kohk-li-coh) - red like wild poppy
smaragdine (sma-rag-din) - emerald
Echoes of their squalling,
finally interferes with my slumber.
Opening my eyes,
to see the pensive faces of the ladened.
And my ears,
to the ear-splitting shrill of the piteous.
Showing me their greatest fears,
Slowing becoming reality before their eyes.
I have seen for myself,
brothers smothering one another.
As a new era seeks recognition,
Iniquity impetuously taking its position.
Tardily becoming the order of the day.
Shortly to be a disease we cannot contain.
It’s up to us movers and shakers in this world
to get things done that need doing.
You and I know full well that others will sit still and wait,
for us to get the old pot stewing.
The movers and shakers are lonely at the top,
but that is their residence by choice.
It is they who get things done and make all the plans,
and the ones who aren’t afraid to raise their voice.
They vacate their personality
They put their hands above their level of subsistence
They paint themselves gold in the midst of admirers
They paint their lying lips with their lipstick of deceit
They divide themselves Like Landed properties
They delude themselves in false pretense
They live on borrowed robes to undress their true personality
They let themselves to be destroyed by the belong syndrome
They deceive the fragile minds of their followers
They Lay their foundation with their sweet tongue and cement it with a thousand lies
They cough out sweet stories to sandwich the brains of their victims
They create an atmosphere of affluence in the eyes of on lookers
They begin to move, shake. and tremble in the face of uncertainty
After all they are the movers and shakers of the society.
The foundation begins to crumble as the lies begins to unearth
Then, the stammering mouth folds up in shame as the true person is revealed
On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she must decline.
Stuck in a bubble, just missing the boat,
floating past maybes, a lump in her throat,
she dawdles and dangles, an inch from forever,
a chance to break open, but opting for never.
One day she will make it, step into the limelight,
and pirouette daintily, taking his hand,
there'll be no more jitters or lame-brain excuses
just confident two-steps in time with the band.
What a relief to be one of a legion
of movers and shakers who're down from the shelf,
gliding with grace while avoiding another's toes,
hugging her partner instead of herself.
Sub Categories
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