New plane called PLANET GHETTO
Scientist didn’t expect and know nothing about
Telescopes had no effect in sighting
Mars said, “Don’t look here”
The Milky Way responded, “Don’t even come our way”
The Moon stated, “Don’t even think about it”
What do these planets know about Planet Ghetto that we don’t
I certainly won’t perpetuate
A planet that became a create
Planet Ghetto appeared out of nowhere in space
Not much to say
Don’t bring any Earth waste
Being new to the Solar System
In fact, all the planets are protesting that they don’t share the solar system with anyone
NASA says beware with care, and they must study more for sure
Planets have made history with stories
There are still some mysteries
Planet Ghetto certainly is a surprise
No one had any idea nor realize
Unknown element in the principle
Planet Ghetto distance far
You won’t even find any car
Don’t expect to look like Earth
Planet Ghetto being a new birth
No comparison to Earth.
A tumultuous time came unushered in my beleaguered life
that writhed in the crushing clutch of destructive agony.
My heart broke, bled with desperation in pining pain,
found no arms stretched to be embraced by solace.
At the edge of hope as the helpless mind sorely got
the unmistakable signal of the beginning of the end,
it surrendered to the benevolent power of the almighty,
prayed for the miraculous results of divine intervention.
In the darkness of opaque nights the tormented life found
in the wilderness the winding path illumined by His light.
My soul swam in the sea of infinite faith, the supreme savior,
to know that the creator’s grace protects what He creates.
As the servile senses perceived the ways of providence,
the feeling of getting assured protection in His benign shelter
invigorated the mental strength for the destined rejuvenation,
and the heart responded to the divine healing touch for revival.
I have a confession to make. I’m a trust fund baby
and a member of the educated Elite.
In my defense, I'm a newcomer in both categories.
I got my trust fund at 18 and graduated Yale University this year.
I was a double major, at university, in biochemistry and celibacy,
until as a sophomore, I met this tall, handsome, awkward, disheveled, physicist in a coffee shop and knavishly schemed my way into his life.
(He insists that he knavishly schemed his way into my life.)
Let’s get poetic-ish..
I said,
“Let’s start a flirtationship
abstract, immaterial and fun.
We have a little chemistry - an interesting.. tension.
Could we just have an involvement and not read into it?
Something friction free, hands free, germ free, and guilt free?
Let's get a pizza, don't worry, I'm paying.”
Of course, that was a lie.
I had designs, I wanted him in the utmost
and honestly, when do I not get what I want?
"I was by far the knavishist." I admitted.
"Then you don't know knavishEST.," he responded, shaking his head 'no'.
.
.
songs for this:
Honeypie by JAWNY
Really Saying Something by Bananarama & Fun Boy Three
Hi I am giving more time for a few on vacation or busy with family. Once a poet communicates with me their consent I can proceed. If you haven’t responded to soupmail or and email I will assume you’re not interested and will not use your poem.
Thanks for your patience.
The villain wasn't always a villain.
Once upon a time, they laughed like sunlight on pebbles in a river,
Heart soft and eyes wide with wonder.
But the world sharpened its teeth against them.
An act of Betrayal and a wound, and a silence for too long.
They reached out and called for aid,
No one responded.
So, they built walls by way of broken trust, hid their heart in the dark, and learned to use pain like a tool.
Now we call them a monster,
but ask yourself this instead-
Who's the monster that hurt them first?
~hira~
You may—I might—theywill—some ‘won’t’—just say:
“Living’s a walnut begging to be cracked!”
And if-or when-but why-sosoon-the impact
of such a soundstatement will hardly weigh?
on the forget- fret- fear-ful kind of gray
dispositions who dwell on the abstract
(no)tion of (this)regard or a(n/a)tacked
self sobbing in the corner of the day.—
Re—again—jected once one final more,
such spirits spurn the sense ‘security’,
to cling to cleaner, more clearly bonded
couplets.
But who when where better (core)responded
to that desperate pre-immaturity,
else than the ever further distant shore?
Said to my daughter: The Canadians elected the Liberal Prime Minister
She responded: That makes them smarter than us.
The egg said to the bacon
“What is wrong with you?”
“You arrive with such a fuss and a splatter”
“All the eggs are wondering just what could be the matter?”
The Bacon replied with a sigh
“What is wrong with you?
“You lie there, serenely, with no fuss nor hint of a splatter”
“All the bacon is confused about why nothing matters.”
The egg supplied this retort
“I don’t see the problem.”
“Why can’t we just lie here with grace?”
“And accept the inevitability that we all must face”
The bacon responded, quite annoyed
“Right there. That’s the problem.”
“Why would you accept your demise with grace?”
“And miss an opportunity staring you right in the face”
The egg, getting hot with wonderment, stated
“I’m still not convinced”.
“I fail to see the point of the fuss and the splatter.”
“None of this can save me. None of it matters.”
” The bacon, heating up with resolution, countered
“Mr. Egg, be convinced!”
“There is a warning attached to the fuss and the splatter.
“If it saves one strip of bacon, then it matters”
Each year I make the matzoh balls,
Which come out pretty good.
My husband cooks the chicken soup;
Our roles are understood.
He always wings it when he cooks,
Just uses what’s on hand
And never needs a recipe,
Which I can’t understand.
I follow the directions
When I cook or when I bake
And measure the ingredients
So there is no mistake.
My time-worn recipes are stashed
In cookbooks or in files;
The drips and spatters dotting them
Evoke nostalgic smiles.
Yet always for the matzoh balls
What has the most appeal
Is the recipe that’s on the box
Of any matzoh meal.
That’s up until this year – there was
No recipe at all!
I Googled and saw dozens,
But not one my matzoh ball.
Until I saw a posting
From a woman who, like me,
Asked if anyone could help her
Find that box-back recipe.
Voila! Someone responded
With a picture of the box.
It’s amazing what technology,
From time to time, unlocks.
I made the matzoh balls
And hope they’re good as they appear,
But I copied down the recipe
So I’ll be set next year.
you make me crazy.
you make me look at my phone 18 times in 5 minutes to see if you responded to my 263 tiktoks I sent
Those same videos convey a secret message
One that I pray that you can not decipher
you make me crazy in the sense that you make me throw my phone when you take 10 minutes to respond to my flirtation attempt.
Flirting isn’t really something I do but you make me want to give it a shot
How is it you that made me someone that I can't even recognize
Not even a year ago, I was saying “once a cheater, always a cheater”
Now I am calling you misunderstood.
Why did I think that I would be different?
different than all of those much prettier girls,
Girls who always know what to say
Why did I think that you would like me
When you wouldn’t make it official.
you say you don't like labels, and then you call me yours.
You make me crazy.
My head isn’t even speaking in logic anymore
He is just a guy!
Why do I let him make me cry?
You just won’t put your money where your mouth is
Being a ghost is sad unless you are living in the present.
Reaching out to you was a chance for you to become part of my life
It may feel like you are alone; however, you are acting in the manner of a pheasant
Well, you are nothing but useless as you are afraid to become a wife
I saw and heard that you may be different as you were interested in my future title
Well, you will never own a piece from a genuine heart
You would rather be avoidant and find a person that does not have a prestigious title
Find your false love in a place that everyone could hear you fart
Wasting my time to give you the opportunity to have a date
You decided to ignore me as you feared that I would want you to become wiser
When I give a person my time, it is an interview for the them to become my potential mate
Now I would not even consider you the light of the sun as a visor
You are a tease MaKenna!
Just like the metaphorical Malena!
I had not heard from my friend Lucy for several months
She had not responded to the last three texts I sent.
I texted her this morning “are you okay?”
A typed transcript came back this afternoon.
Three months ago she was loading groceries into her car.
When she turned to get her purse, it had been stolen from the cart.
She does not have any phone numbers memorized or written down.
Stealing a woman’s purse has to be the work of a snake.
This is a low-down-selfish-mean thing to do.
And has caused her much angst.
I telephoned her house line and left a message.
Telling her my phone number.
Then I called some mutual friends.
They are doing the same thing.
We cannot fix what the snake did, but we can try to help.
Pardon me, sir
But your fly is unzipped
Deeply offended
The ‘sir’ offered
To sock me in the lip
I responded in kind
We swung at the same time
Bottom line ~
Our teeth now
Like ‘pearls dipped in swine’
Those greyed pink strands
That trickle with a crackle
As neurons motor there their weigh
That Brian that named itself
I gave the voices in my head their own costumes
Some synapses may have snap
…………………………..………p
…………………………………..e
…………………………………..d
Some people don’t have an inner voice
I think I got their share
Some just grunt
Not the day to ask how I am
Some whisper tirades of alarms
Some plot within
while chances of escape are slim
They all came from planets
No earthlings
Scarred Wars
Things Han could have responded….
Me and Luke are a thing
Once you go Chewie…
Get your stuff outta of the falcon
You snogged your brother
I am doing this to get away from you, you nutter
My name is Indiana
Something something
this comes way.
I spotted her in the enchanted forest, where the trees whisper tales,
She stood there smiling, like an ephemeral and mysterious star,
Exuding an ethereal elegance, in a white veil that swayed gently,
Tassels like little bells adorned her chic and graceful dress.
Her beauty was an old sweet song that penetrated the soul,
Her aura was a living canvas, a painting that drew curious gazes,
In a moment, a flash eternalized the moment, a gentle touch,
But she responded with a sting, leaving a painful mark on the skin.
I search for the story of this Lily of the Valley in the vast cyberspace,
Ah, what a sublime name and what a captivating presence she hides,
But a deeper look reveals the truth hidden beneath the surface,
Sweet poison under the surface's shine, a play of illusions.
A careful look unveils the secrets beneath the delicate petals,
Like an influencer hiding poison in the pink pearls of her necklace,
The first impression is not always the one that lasts forever,
She is the mistress of illusion, a mix of beauty and hidden danger.
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