Today I think of your
Contributions closing the theater’s door
Putting together toasted bread
Ready for a child to be fed
Youngster wearing grape jelly
Face down to the belly
Laughing saying ‘this is great’
Not showing any hate
But Peanut Butter, it is you
Who makes the mid-day matinee ever so cool
Thank you for coming out of the nutty shell
I would like to tell
About the sandwich where you are
The star
Performing with a backup fruity band
Bringing in all your fans
Grabbing using two strong hands
Not really needing added ham
Applause when going into the mouth
Travelling stomach south
Toddler enjoying the mess
Never will they confess
Instead, go off to sleep
Napping counting Bo and Peep
Lovely sheep
Who once were said
Proclaimed Holy bread
God’s true lamb
Sacrificed when ended up caught in a jam
How much do we love
Our meal fitting like a glove
Getting it all over ourselves
Nutritious wealth
Giving us good health
Being simple as a chair
Lunchtime afternoon’s delightful affair
Always welcome on the stage
No matter what the audiences age
Efficiency, anxiety
Result, vanity
Success, burnout
Alienation, disguise
Unconscious, relapse
Control, coact
Apologist: own merit!
Arbitrary, reclusive
Circus, bread
Conscious, blurred
Acceptance.
Commotion, trivialization
Affection, weakness
Love, liquid
Affliction, medication
People can no longer
Human beings.
- Bruna Beatrice.
Farmers reaping from their fields
Who produces life
is the matter...
Who gives life to matter,
is the spirit...
Who feeds the spirit
is love!
Senior Production Manager
(Retired at Fifty-six)
Miracle Man
7/14/2023
I never settled for being just equal to the rest,
for that would have made me average at best.
I always went the extra mile and didn’t stop,
and I, like cream, suddenly rose to the top.
I always did more for what I earned as pay,
so those who watched promoted me one day.
Then with regularity promotions kept coming,
I was doing well, and things were humming.
After thirty two years stress took it’s licks,
so I chose to retire at the ripe age of fifty-six.
My Grandfather once said,
“I’ve never heard of anyone dying from hard work”
My key was working smarter. My entire life my goal was to be retired at fifty-five. I retired two months past my birthday.
Tom
Are we spending too much time producing stuff for a virtual world?
And not enough time producing what is needed for the real world.
I only know that one world gives hope for Love
And the other gives false hope and few hugs.
One gives exercise only to the fingers,
And one gives time to think about dangers.
One leads to isolation,
And one leads to absolution.
The growl in my stomach is depressing
It can’t come from hunger, I eat plenty,
Fear of passing gas in public is stressing
I haven’t felt this way since I was twenty.
Gulping prescribed antacids by handfuls
An upper GI revealed an angry stomach.
I’m downing the pink stuff by spoonfuls,
Hoping my inner gas level will plummet.
So far, I’m not seeing any good results
Bloating continues to expand my belly,
While I’m tired of receiving crass insults
From disgusting relief ads on the telly.
If you have a suggestion, let me hear it
How did you stop your gas production?
Perhaps I need to develop a new spirit
I'm thinking about a stomach reduction.
Written October 15, 2022
Freedom Not
The days move on
New ways made to kill
Older weapons tweaked
Any advantage is good
No matter how big or small
Defeat your opponent
Pretend to be his friend
Fire the first shot
Endure the last shot
Or fire none at all
Winning the war
By intelligence and stealth
Either way you keep ahead
Becoming more powerful
With your contracts and cash
Made on the backs of the dead
Shame on you and your kind
For all that you do is wrong
I do not care for you
You don’t for me
You’ve slug with my name on it
There’s a million with yours on
But even if you die
You’ll be replaced by another
With the same twisted morals
This is why I always win
And freedom will endure
Replacing your tyranny
If you kill us all
We still win
For we are free
We are immortal
Dams, mining, extraction and fracking!
Logging, trawling, oops this urban expansion!
Plastic, toxic sludge and fertilisers,
Industrial revolution, Mass production!
Rising pollution and depleting fossil fuel.
Expanding population, you greedy humans!
Squeezing nature and melting glaciers
Chocking gases creating Climate conundrum.
Speeding extinction, your helpless restrictions.
Destructing ozone layers, eroding my very foundations!
The earth in pain whispers to me:
Why are you causing this depredation?
Look at my dereliction!
Please stop this destruction.
WHISPER TO ME Ii CONTEST
Sponsored by: Regina Riddle
Date: 14th June; 2020
Peanut oil begins from under the soil,
Sunflower oil is distilled by the boil.
We use these to cook,
I thought then I shook.
By gosh! How do they make baby oil?
Producing large quantities of words
cleverly without considered substance,
Unveiling my needy novel entertaining intentions
yet not revealing news or even pretensions
about who I today am
becoming
or tragically have been,
Is this fertility
or merely self-absorbing pregnancy?
If the distance
between Earth's nature
and Heaven's spirit
is as precisely wide
and concisely deep
as a filament
figment of my imagination,
Then what could true or lie between
ecological processes of health
and theological systems of graced wealth?
If nothing lies polarizing between,
Then what more silence
need remain
dissonance unsaid?
A succulent meal
Makes for a dancing palate
And permanent smile.
Brexit Sonnet No.14
‘One Tragic Production’
Witness now this Carillion carry on;
Be it victim of its boundless chiming debt,
Or government multi-tasking gene now gone.
One tragic production awaits, our stage quite set.
A flying crown of fifty years brought low,
A treasured cat now eyeing Ireland’s shores.
Our EMA jobs and funds to Holland flow,
And no seat of comfort in Yorkist sofa stores.
So as director primes the nervous cast,
That padding beast ‘Uncertainty’ stalks the wings.
He knows his lines, for prompts he’s never asked,
But others falleth by his hand, like kings.
So slay this beast upon the Nation’s stage,
And acteth not from Brexit’s tragic page.
©Keith Murphy
Stage set: Nineteen Seventy-Two
Enter threshold Jolly Jumper bouncing baby girl
toes grazing the shag
Next scene a little quicker
Clad in plaid she's a Big Wheels and corduroy blur
moving the plot along
Intermission (Orange Crush, Pop Rocks and Pixie Sticks)
Action: The games begin
Go Fish your Fisher Price Little People
out of the sandbox
you're too young to play with Matchbox
so cool until that Etch A Sketchy kid
sends your Slinky down the stairs
Plot twist: the corner store Mexican Jumping Beans
were infinitely more entertaining than Pet Rocks
The End
Well not "The End"
Training wheels are off and so is the star of the show
Careening towards the eighties
With her Choose Your Own Adventure collection in tow
18.02.25
Composed for Line Gauthier's
Where were you in the 70's?
Time to make that New Year's resolution,
it won't be revolt or revolution,
so while I think out loud
my friends will be so proud...
trying to end my talk convolution!
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