The corrupt officer schemed throughout his years,
Amassing great wealth beyond his peers.
But once retired, his heart did stir,
He dreamed to be known as patriot and social worker.
The social worker preached to keep things clean
Yet dumped the trash where it should not be seen-
By roadside or river the rubbish he threw
A bitter irony the people knew.
The patriots and reformers proud and tall,
As they liked to be addressed by all,
Encroached upon the public land,
Taking more than they had planned.
They speak out against corruption's blight,
Yet ask their children to thrive in its night.
The social activist, with care and knack,
Got government contracts through the backtrack,
Jobs for his kin, all neatly aligned,
Through hidden doors, deals well designed.
The society nods, though it may shove
The life one chooses to live and love,
Need not align with words they say,
Actions and truths may drift away.
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
I am but the dreamer, never the dream,
Yearning to shimmer like an endless blue ocean,
A cascade of stars dancing upon its gleam,
Not a mere stream, lost and forgotten.
I long to bloom as an ethereal flower,
With eight flawless petals kissed by the dawn,
A radiant stem, standing in endless power—
Yet I am but a lone leaf, with twilight withdrawn.
Desire burns within, a longing untamed,
Yet the sky denies what my soul has schemed,
For I am but the dreamer, never the dream.
I feel that life has passed me by.
I cannot help but wonder why.
What happened to those dreams I dreamed,
And those ambitious schemes I schemed?
Back then, when I was in my prime,
I thought I had a wealth of time.
But now, the mirror on the wall
Suggests I have no time at all.
When did my black hair turn to white?
It seemed to happen overnight.
I can no longer touch my toes.
Long since I caught a glimpse of those.
Then, just as I start to despair,
I turn and see you standing there;
Your smile, just as it’s always been
Since I first saw you, sweet sixteen.
And suddenly I’m young again.
That smile could always ease the pain.
Life hasn’t passed me by at all.
I’ll turn that mirror to the wall
Tries to be ambitious
At Least once in a lifetime to be called precious
Society taught to be cautious
Uncertainty was seemed
Everyone thought that they were schemed
Couldn’t fit in the field
Plasted with a smile
Thought to dry the nile
Of her dreams to be fine
Once in a lifetime shown a minute shine
They was nil to call mine
Her locked emotions were nine
Wanted to be loved once by luck
But was in a hidden havoc.
Dorothy and her lovely small dog Toto.
Were all taken up in a fierce tornado.
Ran into three helpless bobos.
A Tin man, Lion, and Scarecrow.
No Wizard needed, just the Dr Phil show.
The three went to see Dr. Phil, a PHD.
No heart for the Tin man, just psychotherapy.
Told the Lion to get a set,
and the Scarecrow to not forget.
All thanked the Dr, and walked away happily.
The Wizard they all thought had magical powers.
Worked and schemed, behind his curtain, every hour.
His curtain was removed.
The people were amused.
Now, he plays behind the curtain in the shower..
Bobo: A slang Spanish word meaning half witted.
Wizard Of Oz Limerick Poetry Contest Charles Messina
Written November 22 2024
An impotent soul wrapped with a police seal
Married a merchant and stopped bearing Jill
everyone must care, that’s how it feels
traps of superiority placed like banana pills
mutual respect losing every match five-to-nil
demanding the showering of majestic praises so unreal
that are schemed and manufactured from a rusted mill
to cover a void that can never be filled.
Confidence owns worth for self-respect and exaggeration to steal
me, myself and I, makeup the three-square-meal
ego prioritized, a major condition in every deal
insisting that the screws are not as important as the wheel.
It is always said that blessed are they who climb the hill
but they look down the foot of the mountain to see ants worthy of a kill
despite the accolades, undermining others is their zeal
loud on the success, louder on the associated vigils
winning comes with feathers, before eating the meat, you must peel
or else, there will be a heavy mention on destruction’s will.
Frequently she said of the other
who she compared
him to her
other
Asset based relationship
ought not include one or the other men
to know whats happening
Should one include
somethings that
is rude
and should the other dictate
for the other to either
ne-go or negate
it's all in the wording
that it is either excepted or rejected
most common then it's mentioned
as a point of reflection
then she schemed to meet him
must she scheme to keep him
to make so many people
involved: are these then to problemate
or problem resolve?
As I look down and see the ground
On which my feet don’t stand
The light I see is all around
Things haven’t gone as planned
It’s really kweer, I’m standing here
And somehow, you are not
You did your worst, let me go first
Off of that beauty spot
So, was I dead between the ears
Too dumb to see your lies
Or to spot your cunning plan
In which it’s me that dies
Everywhere I look are sheep
On tiny pasture clouds
They’re interspersed with people
Who have wings and wispy shrouds
We didn’t shake on our done deal
We sealed it with a kiss
I would leap, then so would you
To our eternal bliss
The best laid plans of nice young men
Lie face down in the mud
For I chose this eternal light
And you chose my best bud
You schemed to take my life insurance
’pon our rocky shores
Ironic that your latest squeeze
Will soon be taking yours
I watched you in your fancy car
The car that once was mine
But then you took it for a drive
When he had spiked your wine
So when you get here you’ll be processed
Then sent to the basement
I hope it’s not too warm for you
For it’s an all time placement.
…Dunder Mifflin
actions not mortifying
suddenly
the voice of a sportscaster
erupts
with the time of day
giving
the time of day
quarterly
…Mash
not a lover’s quarrel
but
like Burns and Houlihan
together
to screw with “the cast”
…Priestly
but the devil
was tattooed on an arm
scaring
the hell out of us
causing
us to retreat
like boxers to our corners
…Hart
not sexual
but sleazy
an occasional liar
at
his desk, I
saw past his
Pinocchio nose
he’d
not get fired
but
our 9 to 5
was a little kinder
…Slater
but schemed
to make her own team
it
wasn’t Betty
that was ugly
…Me
for to be the boss
would mean
I’d have to drive
the machine
not
be sent off a cliff
…a novel opportunity
but
poetry
Clang, clang, clang, toots a trolley: X-s-teams,
though it's not the same San Fran by the Bay,
remembrance connects, perspective redeems,
sound stirs, 'Mathis', "It's Not For Me To Say".
Maintained posture as my observance probes,
heedless complacency, schemed convenience,
the prate news reader provokes our earlobes,
heroines chat as a girl grasps missed-chance.
Tram's next stop, the conductor ring updates,
abides fixed whiles, a life away smokes forth,
traffic noise flowing, like manmade primates,
shrieks giving birth...streetcar desired...part.
Ding, ding, ding, went the bell; attuned Judy,
"Voices of Spring", scratched slippers of ruby.
“Why raise this much crude alarm
Over the schemed little harm
To just chop off your left arm
Leaving your right for your farm…
Left arm coming to gross harm
Does not betray yields from farm,
Save for one with eyes on alms,
Since planning to dump farm’s palms...
Your right arm can yams harvest,
Just as it can put on vest.
No true lover would you jest
Or with tongue your patience test
For being now a one-armed man
She should leave for older stan!”
You're facing a gun complete with barrels
And of all things with firm holder quarrels!
Chairman Mao would have laughed at you
And kept repeating "No... No it's not true!"
I guess, definitely, in their Chinese,
Even if you had been a Taiwanese,
"Why don't you reserve games of Squirrel!"
If you were English and your name Darrell...
I have a cursory look given Mao
And the result - no schemed insult - but "Waow"
A long braving of the unpopular,
For it finding pillars; new formula:
One might fully own one's shirts and trousers,
For private accounts there shall be browsers,
One's country first but not like Kennedy's
Often voiced by takers of Cannabis...
For their foes communism the hammer!
I knew he'd said so not a slight stammer
To Tito on the same ideas feeder
Chairman was China's outstanding leaders
Mao's last words: take your time don't be anxious
A good advice but not for something vicious.
The days the owls rioted, I ran to my warm bed.
I got inside my quilts and I covered my head.
With their talons and beaks, they elected king Fred.
I dared not say a word, but my face was pure red.
They plotted and schemed, these fowls so smart.
I heard one of them coughing, his name is Blue Art.
We have to act now, but first, we’ll all have a Sweet Tart.
How could they stop at one? I asked Feathered Bart.
He gave me a glare and pecked hard at my feet.
Stay under those covers, or your fate won’t be sweet.
I did not dare make another noise, answer phone or send a tweet.
I knew then that I was surely about to be beat.
Have no desire to be aware of what you schemed to say
The little time that I may have-you shan't steal away.
Though if you seek some company to share a little peace
You’re welcome here any time, though words you must decrease.
Have no longing for yourself to ramble in my ear
Only wish to hear from you straightforward and sincere,
For life’s too short to consort with excessive talking
And if you start I’ll be apart from you and set on walking.
Have no impulse to listen to gossip and void chatter
Only want to listen to the truth of what does matter,
And spare me from your sorrow, woes and doomed despair
As when you vent that misery you selfishly don't care.
See, when we do communicate we’ll share our point of view
Though lessen all extraneous by empathising too,
Where quietude prevails to build us up and strong
And this will be the kind of place where we’ll ease along.
Have no craving to be aware of what you want to state
We need to have gratitude and stress-alleviate,
To slow the flow for up and go within a world of violence
It seems to be a wise old move to revive in silence.
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