Guy starred at the Octagon,
when he was just a lad,
and all the reviews.
in the Bolton News,
said that he wasn’t too bad.
His mum said it was destiny,
his dad said it was karma,
when Guy got his kicks,
down the A666,
at Salford studying drama.
From the Exchange to the Everyman,
he took the stage by storm,
the London critics,
even the cynics,
queued up to watch him perform.
“Bolton’s talented Guy” they cried,
and followed the rising star,
but he couldn’t forget,
when offered Hamlet,
his dad thought they meant a cigar.
Guy knew he’d finally made it,
his mum wept tears of delight,
when she jumped for joy,
with news that her boy,
would turn on the Blackpool lights.
(A gangster rap)
Yo, on the corner, where the street meets fate,
Unsupervised stop sign, tempting fate,
In the hood's wild west, where rules bend,
That stop sign stands alone, a silent trend.
No law, no authority, it's a lawless land,
But that sign, it's a symbol, taking a stand,
In the chaos of the streets, it holds its ground,
A rebel, a silent voice, all around.
Cars zoomin' by, ignorance in the air,
But that stop sign's there, it doesn't care,
Red octagon, a warning ignored,
In the streets of rebellion, it's adored.
It's like me, in this life of sin,
Breakin' the rules, but I aim to win,
Unsupervised, yet standin' tall,
Against the odds, I'm destined to brawl.
That stop sign's a metaphor, a symbol of might,
In a world so dark, it shines a light,
Unnoticed, unguarded, but it persists,
Like a gangster's resilience, it exists.
I roll through the streets, like a renegade,
With the spirit of that stop sign, never afraid,
In this concrete jungle, where chaos thrives,
I'm the unsupervised rebel, on the rise.
The other day I read a Facebook post,
where they asked this silly question again.
Find a word that starts with the letter O,
but that word must end with the letter N.
Of course, I know it’s just my opinion,
and taken from my own observation.
That it would not take much of an optician,
to see this as open ostentation.
Now I feel I have an obligation,
to sit on the octagon ottoman,
Where I often eat an Oregon onion,
while petting my baby orangutan.
His name is Owen Odin Orion,
his occupation is just an oarsman,
But he has joined an organization,
to help an orphan find his origin.
He had a small organ operation,
with an option to open an obstruction.
They had to keep him on some oxygen,
while they blasted it to oblivion.
I wonder if I have an obsession,
for words that start with O and end in N.
My opposition says it’s an omen,
I say it’s an overreaction again.
An old octagon table
with a laminated press board top
Left outside it may soon rot
legs of steel make it heavy
Lifting it alone not quite able
dragged it out the back door into the mud
For rest sat on it with a thud
steel legs sank deep into the soft ground
Now a bench on display
for in the back yard it now stays
Still should move it not really an excuse
but it is a nice place to roost.
FOURTH TRIAL OF STYLEBENDER
He left him frozen like Elsa,
The loosed dog ate him up as a pizza
Then unleashed his bow & arrow,
3 shots ended him, piercing into his marrow.
Put an arrow in the heart of your demon.
Even though successful revenge isn't common
as he was hunted down 3 times by his nemesis,
drowned by the sea of eyes in the octagon premises.
Suddenly, the hunted becomes the hunter,
slicing through Perriera like bread & butter.
Now, the predator becomes the prey,
Adesanya entered the record books...what an entry!
Second-round knock-out was the story,
Stylebender basks in the sweetness of glory.
Landing a thunderous right hand from the gods
And defeating his demon against all odds.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes
Copyright ©? 9th April 2023.
I OPENED A DOOR
IN THE UNIVERSE ,
THAT DOESN'T EXIST ,
AND NEVER EXISTED.
I FOUND MYSELF STANDING ,
IN THE OCTAGON ,
OF THE IMAGINATION.
UNDERSTANDING THAT
IMAGINATION IS ESSENTIAL ,
TO UNLEASHING OUR TRUE
POTENTIAL , I UNLEASHED
MY CURIOSITY OF IMAGINATION
IN EVERY DIRECTION.
IN SEARCH OF WISDOM
AND KNOWLEDGE.
UNDERSTANDING
I AM NOT THE FATHER
OF SOLIPSISM.
I AM NOT THE CENTER
OF THE UNIVERSE NOR AM I
THE CREATOR.
IF THE ABILITY TO THINK
IS A MENTAL ABILITY ,
THE INABILITY TO THINK
BECOMES A MENTAL DISABILITY.
IF IMAGINATION IS THE SIMPLEST
FORM OF THINKING ,
THE INABILITY TO IMAGINE
MAKING A DECISION
WITHOUT THINKING FIRST ,
IS NO DIFFERENT
THAN THE INABILITY TO THINK.
CONFORMITY IS NOT
THINKING FOR YOURSELF.
IT'S ALLOWING OTHERS
TO THINK FOR YOU.
AS IF YOU DO NOT HAVE
THE ABILITY TO THINK
FOR YOURSELF.
SO THE REAL DIFFERENCE
BETWEEN THE SO CALLED
HAVES AND THE HAVE NOTS ,
GOES BEYOND THE
BARRICADES OF IMAGINATION
WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT.
BEWARE THE IMAGINATION
DISGUISED AS FANTASY
LIVING A LIFE OF VISUALIZATION
IN A REALITY THAT DOES NOT
EXIST.
Michael E. Harris
03222022
Shapes
Square...the boring, the shy type, yet, not at all dumb,
Circle...keep 'in' your chum and keep 'out' the ho-hum,
Rectangle...just a longer square, scrawny, and skeletal,
Oval...flattened circle, straight, or not, sexually pivotal,
Triangle...life: eat, sleep and sex, tiresome instrument,
Heart...the source that pumps blood, passion stimulant,
Octagon...a square want to be well-rounded, stop sign,
Crescent...fertility, Osman dreamt the end of Byzantine,
Cross...Christian symbol, missed greatness o'er stupidy,
Diamond...crystal, brilliant, to keep with much difficulty.
2021 February 21
*2nd Place*
List With A Twist
~~charles messina
What do you get?
When you cross a cross?
With a plus sign,
You get what.
Addition or four-way stop;
And an added cross;
Octagon lost;
10/12/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Big Sur Jade Cabochon
Broken from off underwater cliffs
Slowly pushed by tides and currents
Found by me during a low tide
While searching along Jade Cove
In Los Padres National Forest
Cut into quarter to half-inch slabs
The cut again into an octagon
The octagon grinds down to an oval
A flat surface down to concave
Grounded first with coarse wheels
Then again with finer wheels
Buffed and polished to a high sheen
With powdered sapphires
A new Big Sur Jade Cabochon
Please don’t fight
Someone will get hurt
It is not your right
Don’t be so darn curt
If you do try to fight
I will get involved
You will surely not like it
This thing will be solved
So please do remember
While in my house
And that I make the rules
So be meek as a mouse
I’ll share all of my tools
When you show some respect
I hope you don’t mind
That I am so direct
The guest book is here
Make sure it is signed
Please go have a beer
And stay out of this bind
The fight is not here
This is where you unwind
If it happens it’s over
And you will be gone
You’ll feel bad allover
And know you are done
Elemental dissonance
Poly-plated string guess
Depressive spine edge
Identity description cubed
Waterfalls negative score
Abyssal language drops
Hole numeral planification
Horizontal ship oval dust
Sea’s sloped gravitational
Octagon growth
Lack of facts and matter
Undertone course kaleidoscope
Particular perimeter blast
Empty can tomatoes
Protostar geometric syndrome
Indifferent neurotransmission
Necrotic wavelength voice
Breakfast experience lost
[Stone…stone…stone…stone…]
Compressed predator instincts
Exist in the most primitive dimension
Textile complex of nerves
Mixture of nebulas and herbs
Blinking imperfect echoes
Is it a crop of static points?
Yet there’s no sign of growth
No sprouting into a G minor code
A multi-fingered park
For a suicide octagon roll?
Most probably
Horde of wormholes on the wall
Dementia brought cheese mentality
Expose your paper gestures
And fold
Extreme fisherman-frontal jump
Into the scribbled reflections of
A starving point
Signs here, Signs there, Signs everywhere.
Square, Octagon, Triangle, even Rhombus.
Rectangle or Circle. I saw a Pentagon.
Colorful, Neon, Plain or Elaborate.
Wooden, Paper, Metallic, or Glass.
Italic, Roman, Gothic, or Arial.
To Sell, For Sale, or Sold.
To Buy, To Rent, or Free.
Discounts, Bargains, or Markdowns.
Moving, Moved, or Out of business.
Signs are to enlighten, motivate not misconceive.
Signs are to enhance, to assist not misgovern.
Signs are to share, make aware not misinform.
Signs are to guide, show the way not misdirect.
Drawing from the well of inspiration...
Generation quenches thirst from generation.
Different ages yeilds different stages
Thrust forth from your well of imagination...
Fragrant lilac roses saturating all those who
Stand too close with their perspiration.
Drums resound the suppleness of their tight skins...
Bees swarm returning nectar to their octagon homes
From sweet-smelling warm sun-drenched petals.
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