The recent, decent, authorised remaster -
now deeper, fuller, meaningfully vaster,
it’s done its fifty years – this one’s a laster!
I don’t care if you’re reggaeton or Rasta,
you worship Satan, Seti, Zoroaster -
just play this baby for your priest or pastor –
it’s early Fleetwood Mac, but cooler, faster –
so get it grooving on your ghetto blaster!
Abandon Grand Theft Auto, drop your Dune,
and scrap your Patti Smith and Patti Boone:
just get more Gilmour (boy, that boy can croon!)
and Roger Waters, nicely out of tune:
the rest is paltry. Daltrey’s picayune.
I’ll meet you on the Dark Side of the Moon!
Somber Rebellion
Upon somber's horrid-rebellious fleet,
Corvus and ravens are victims who plead,
Nightmare which leeches through logic and glee,
Conceals itself behind bleaks ominous screams.
Coercion of luminity for pallid deeds,
Fabricates these mirrored-fraudulent beasts,
Wandering over a picayune defeat,
Condemning drab-shadows for your vulnerability.
Blight and woes for haul of gloom,
no stand for hope and bloom...
As it pulls us to an abyss of nothingness,
Why stand in path of haughtiness?
Concealer of truth, yet beholder of it too,
The coagulate of shade fears and escapes,
Across with warm bask of delicate ray,
Time's meticulous philosophy orders whoosh...it all Fades!
-Kethanramc
Every moment of the day there should be someone
shouting from the rooftops, "Life, enjoy it while you can.”
— Marty Rubin
bursting the bubble of entertainment — the call
— ME
SWEPT UP BY ILLUSIONS
time in tick tock tick
with a pendulum sickle
and grim reaper cloak
of today the sun’s shining
picayune of pink roses
3/15/2020
*since contest must be anonymous, I simply put “Me”
McCain Avoids Picayune
Picayune is squabbling of party politicians.
Part of politics McCain avoids are picayune,
And we know in heaven will be pretty soon;
Hard try;
Great guy;
Trump stayed here loony like a lousy loon.
Jim Horn
Jim Horn
Hatred picayune...Tolerance vital
Passion immeasurable
Green grass...Blue skies...Heaven
Do you remember how and when
The two of us were close,
A friendship of the fountain pen:
Poetic overdose?
Then both our verse turned taciturn,
At least seemed so to me,
And darker moods caused me to yearn
For sunshine's clarity.
If prisoner of depressed thought
Could I just leave you there?
Your fellow star-flung astronaut,
Sought path to show I care.
But worm-holes twist reality,
Crossed relativity
Impacted geniality,
Left negativity.
An obelisk on frozen moon
Is what our genius wrote,
Surrendered Love to Picayune,
The chance of thaw remote.
Brian Johnston
February 22, 2017
In time the inimicals, the doubts and uncertainties;
In time they'll go by, in time they'll pass.
It is difficult to hear, difficult to see
Difficult to feel, difficult to deal with
But in time they'll pass.
If the inimicals consume, then we lose.
We lose all hope of winning
All hope of triumph. Why?
We gave in, we gave up we let the inimicals win.
We let them consume everything.
With perseverance, we attain.
With perseverance, we accomplish.
Perseverance should never lose its light.
For its gleaming light, however picayune it may be
That is all we need to slowly drudge our way back.
Drudge our way back to the triumph.
Drudge our way back to the hope.
Drudge our way back to ourselves.
Drudge our way back from the inimicals.
Drudge our way back to winning.
In time the inimicals, the doubts and uncertainties;
In time they'll go by, in time they'll come to pass.
A book full of words
Each one connected by a tune
To create a perfect song
In its most beautiful frequency
Two different worlds
Labeled to be both picayune
Even though there's nothing wrong
They really are not just meant to be.
I blush when I think about the makeup
Of Man. At birth he's weak and insecure
He's helpless, ignorant- a little pup
Has more going for him than this treasure.
And when he matures, mental growth is slight.
He whines and pines and broods o'er picayune
Events: It's too hot! I'm cold! That's too tight!
I hate my job! That cost too much! A tune
That's sung ad infinitum-- Maddening!
There's absolutely no relief from it.
He lies and cheats exaggerates most things.
Befuddles, muddles, meddles, throws a fit.
He battles, tattles, prattles--Stop! Enough
I say, stop the world I want to get off!
Within the realms of space
Exist the pearly lines of logic,
Foreboding, tremendously woven like lace
With fiery finesse and a flashing flicker.
From elegant earth, cyclopean stars
Are rendered so picayune,
We see them only as circles and bars
Adorning the sky, so meticulously strewn.
But the human mind
Does not need to look beyond
The two-dimensions we see to find
Amusement. Sorry Armstrong.
The blazing cataclysmic beauty
Is wasted on our feeble temperament.
Squandered almost deliberately
Without further acknowledgment.
And the result of this treachery
Is the reason our lives are so dull.
We morph all we see, making it blurry.
Leaving only a 2-D circle.
And yet, even with this simple silhouette,
We bask in beautiful bundles of bliss.
Ironically enough, we call it infinite
Like that of space, a more infinite abyss.
Doest thou have an answer
To the question of which I speak
For the question is irrelevant
It is the answer that I seek
I have search for many hours
Days and weeks have passed me by
I only want the answer
The truth and not a lie
Don’t fill me up with double talk
Don’t send me round the bend
Don’t tell me they will help me
I am asking you here now my friend
I have traveled many miles
Across countries wide and far
To get a simple answer
Can it really be that hard?
Across mountains and there valleys
Through deserts and there dunes
For 30 years I have searched
Is my life a picayune?
People give me hope
They say the doctor that I seek
Can put an end to the pain
Is it true these words I speak?
The doctor is very famous
His work known far and wide
Is it because I have know money
The reason I am denied?
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