On the train, there’s room to spare
And lovely air-conditioned air.
I have 2 seats – no need to share;
It’s pleasant, no disputing.
The windows give a city view
Of buildings on Park Avenue
And sometimes a construction crew,
Their hoes and diggers rooting.
At every station, people board,
Their day beginning, heading toward
A job or visit, their reward
For miles of such commuting.
For me, this type of travel’s rare,
A different way of getting there.
No traffic causing me despair,
Anxiety diluting.
The novelty’s what makes it cool
But daily train rides, as a rule,
Would not be fun, as any fool
Would never be refuting.
Antimony Foolishness
Age 51 is often when one’s unable,
To buy the status quo, it’s old and needs mending.
New sports car, how youthful! Refuting the label,
Of premature old age, gray hair pending.
Girl friends need to be added to the stable,
Young women, their company lending,
Immortal aura when sharing their bar table.
What invokes “against aloneness”, or “befriending”?
You’ll find a word “antimonos” in Greek fable.
The element Antimony, #51, is alloy tending,
By emulating its properties, “Romeo” is enabled.
By experimenting with the valence one’s sending,
Reactions occur, some of which may be stable,
But it’s hard to tell if another is bonding or pretending,
Especially, to induce attraction, one increases spending.
Remember to study and use the Periodic Table,
It prolongs youth, the illusion of vitality never ending.
© Chaim Wilson
Computer-virus
A type of sirus?
Dog eared pedantic
Repetitive on automatic
Amorphic invasion maybe
Pushing for an erasion
Removing African
Eroding the Eurasians
Punishing most Asians.
Compute such dogma’
Hirsute not an option
In streamlining concoctions
Refuting forbidden
Ideas free and falling,
In ides of transitioning
Islands of resistance
Enlightement most insistent
Fighting fiercely for freedom
Against the force of dis-reason.
Also think again?
On that verbiage?
Does it define our
Stagnant garbiage?
©Joe Maverick 13-6-2022
A baron's efforts to hold his wealth
only to have it turn on himself.
His estate slips away like water
so sad his firstborn was a daughter.
Which would have likely prevented her
through the norms of primogeniture
to assume a place of prominence
refuting male gender dominance.
But by breaking this sibling pattern
we can tell how well women govern.
Males think they must be our defender
except when it comes down to gender.
Mostly eldest males would inherit
despite if they showed little merit.
Blind bias ran rampant for ages
through Jane Austen's parody pages.
Scattered blood lines inked in a novel
as knights would want his damsels docile.
In past days some sought gender justice
equality should be best for us.
Plans to secure estates and property for male heirs.
20 Lines Couplet 125 Words 6/5/22
RIBBONS
beyond
the
fallible
with
inherent
vulnerabilities
interspersed
in
the intimacy
of
assorted
fairy
tales
discovering
modernity
&
refuting
the myth
so thoroughly
of
progress
so
arbitrary
cultural
moments
at
the forefront
of discourse
in the
narrative
of
personal life
on its
own terms
neither perfect
nor imperfect
ever
ongoing
references
to validity
of
relationships
as
a way of
making sense
of the world
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Off and on, I feel lonesome, can't arise.
I'm in such pain surfeit, can't drowse.
Rolling aside sweeps hurl, toss on the side.
Drop to my knees, leak why I have cried.
Cipher on this planet appeals to me.
Constantly on the stand for the story.
A sapped shell is all that is left empty.
Deserve the sign that dwells is ready.
My heart weeps for your insight.
And your unwavering devotion.
I was ecstatic when left late at night.
And refrain from refuting to any notion.
Or a flower will bud in life's greenery.
Keep your head apart from scenery.
Written: February 18, 2022
A Brian Strand Rime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Once was a time when you could believe
Things happened like you heard on the news
Now, you cannot be too sure about that
For you are hearing a commentator’s views.
Reporting events has become so politicized
Everything is slanted to the left or the right
What comes across with sarcasm or a frown
Is calculated to instigate an on-going fight.
One network is still promoting Trump’s lies
While another spends all its time refuting
What listeners are already aware is untrue
Hearing rubbish, what’s the point of disputing.
Switching off the network news, I return to print
Where I can check sources and writers up front
I can read an article from several different angles
And make up my own mind, to be perfectly blunt!
written August 10, 2021
Tu B'Shevat 2021
Rosh HaShannah for trees,
Full Moon of Wolf howl,
Come as one in the frigid seize,
Jewish logic says "Eat fruit Y'All"!
Relieves our knockin' knees,
A Seasonal Affective Disorder null,
Laughin' moon face tease,
"Eat a Peach!" breaks the spell,
Sing Spring's a-comin'! We's...
Benching "Shecheyanu" in place of a growl,
Savoring fruit juice lees,
Refuting winter's bowel,
By moonshine spirits increase,
"Ahh!" replaces "Uuu!" as our vowel!
thinking like Stein but
drinking beer from a stein
remembering German days
not Paris
contradicting and refuting
Gertrude's flowery words
for
a muse is a muse is
but
don't
include
my Musa
Sitting on the kerb, watching ants toil to death
I bemused myself with a thought,
What if i was god, simply drowned in pleading seas and wanton waters
Not aware of my true visage
Lost and forgotten living life till death
The ultimate homage to my creation living as they do
What if the sacrifice had been too much
A father lets his only son die
Retreated into human insanity
Angels lost in love, demons no longer in fear
Praying to myself or refuting my existence
The lonliest entity seeks a saviour
And no-one to hear The Lords prayer
Just like one of us
watching his ants toil to death
Before:
He waves the sea farewell
Is sure the shore will dwell
He wheels, hardly touching earth,
His arms provoke the sky
As wings about to fly:
Raising a newborn bird.
A swan, yet not about to die
a phoenix in disguise
Refuting every lie
Refusing less than high
He writes his muted life away
Remembers life on earth
A life of lack and dearth
A miss that always stays
After:
He keeps his words inside
They too will always hide
***
May 4, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
There's No Refuting That Trump Is Turning Into A Good Leader
Trump's ship
doesn't shine bright,
it sails uncharted course,
as opposed to his successors.
He doesn't consort or dock with big ships,
he is out in the horizon,
harboring betterment
for his country's
future
https://www.reddit.com/r/The_Donald/comments/63nxsn/update_i_was_tired_of_liberals_saying_trump_hasnt/
Note-When you read the above article, without biases, how can you
not come away impressed with Trump's leadership?
connie pachecho
4/12/17
He walks, hardly touching earth,
His arms provoke cerulean sky
As wings about to try and fly:
Raising a new eternal bird.
A swan, yet not about to die
Instead a phoenix in disguise
Refuting all existing lies
Refusing low, now aiming high
They walk their muted life away
Reminder of his life on earth
His former life of lack and dearth
Inside of him they'll always stay
***
March 13, 2017
Copyright ©Darren White
Oxymoron of the day: Politically Correct
“Hi, I’m Carl Palmer and I approve of this poem.”
The Informed Voter
Donald Trump called, knew my name,
called me Carl, left a message, I wasn’t home.
Hillary Clinton called, knew my name, called
me Carl, left a message, I wasn’t home, darn.
Excited that so many candidates want my vote
who sent me mail, filled my box, I read it all.
Thrilled my yard is decorated with free signs
from both democrat and that other party as well.
Befuddled am I by the newspaper articles and letters
to the editor changing my mind over and again,
confused by the television ad contradicting the
commercial just aired by the opposing opponent.
Tediously taking notes while listening to talk radio
refuting facts from previous pundits interrupted
by my ever ringing doorbell announcing another
concerned citizen soliciting suggested suffrage.
Today is Monday, I still don’t know how I’ll vote,
who best represents my interests, cares about me.
I’m just thankful that tomorrow it’ll all be over
at least until Wednesday when the recounts begin.
Age 51 is often when one’s unable,
To buy the status quo, it’s old and needs mending.
New sports car, how youthful! Refuting the label,
Of premature old age, gray hair pending.
Girl friends need to be added to the stable,
Young women, their company lending,
Immortal aura when sharing their bar table.
What invokes “against aloneness”, or “befriending”?
You’ll find a word “antimonos” in Greek fable.
The element Antimony, #51, is alloy tending,
By emulating its properties, “Romeo” is enabled.
By experimenting with the valence one’s sending,
Reactions occur, some of which may be stable,
But it’s hard to tell if another is bonding or pretending,
Especially, to induce attraction, one increases spending.
Remember to study and use the Periodic Table,
It prolongs youth, the illusion of vitality never ending.
© Chaim Wilson
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