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Blank verse
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The quest for eternity (Jeff Bezos)
He awoke under the bed; it had been his birthday
and had drunk champagne and eaten Danish pastry
He stretched, feeling stiff, walked to the kitchen, opened
the fridge took out cheese, tomatoes, butter and
A bottle of beer, which thirstily drank.
The cleaning lady had been everything was in order
but wondered where guests had gone and when they left
The house was quiet, not a sound from the street
looking out, he saw cars stopped, some with open doors
like they had been abandoned in haste, must be something
important going on, he thought, walked into the bathroom
had a shower and shaved.
In a bakery/café, he had a sandwich and coffee, which he had
to make himself since no one was around
It dawned on him people had left for a reason unknown
and everything, cars, cigarettes and beer, was free and only
For him to enjoy.
A Rolls Royce that had belonged to the mayor stood in the street
as he had never driven an expensive car before he started
The car, what smooth ride, he thought, but where are the people?
At the plaza, he saw a dog that looked like the one he had
many years ago, called the cur’s name, but it growled at him
and ran away, frightened of him.
At an expensive restaurant walked into the kitchen, made
a good meal, and drank fine wine without worrying about paying.
The dog came in, to all friendly now understanding it had
to stick with this person to be fed.
Months went by, he had everything, but he had nothing there
no change, days were the same, he lost interest
in himself stopped shaving and bathing and wore the same pants
and shirt every day as time was endless no point doing anything
Life had lost its meaning; he had to take the matter into his own hands
took the lift up to the top of the building and jumped, but he descended
slowly and softly landed, he broke down and sobbed
He was doomed to live forever as a punishment for his wishes to
Be a master of life and death.
Back under the bed, he went to sleep an eternity away, but the dog
stood outside the bedroom crying, who is to feed it now?
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Rhyme
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Candied isle presents herself immodestly,
exposing a proud seduction of
azurity acting. accordingly.
Aisles of eye-taffy, watered-marked
cast dye soaking instantly to memory,
tractoring the eye by facets
that are seen through twice at once,
branches into mental symmetry.
Waves of beautiful victory, gallantry
fauceted in iridescent deja vu witnessed in it's every variety.
Lush emerald waves caress the shoreline
in fondling allure of contrived alacrity, porously cured, litmus tasting, invest of purity beached.
Unsparingly licking crevaced reach,
lapping wetness in a smooth swathe of soothe bath, tongue in groove lap danced, breach of contact,
without mission creep.
Direct production of survey able exhibition playbilled
of natural method f-actoring pregnancy
of fertility of timed maturity.
Natural beauty offsprings of internity address,
dressings undress blessings.
Attractions hot off the impress,
to authenticity's purity test.
Luau maidened fronds weave in a knowing pomp.
In mid ad sway, ready to wave in patron,
musical bands, of the Sun-reading palm,
photo-synthetic balm.
Ringed invitation, curating deeper currents stirring synthesis from, oscillation of fandom.
Sun-kissed sand tickles my toes
with it's whiskery feel of surroundings.
Tongue of cat, nosing of treat, and posed
as so, as in your path, to greet.
"A ground-swallow- syncing
mini liquefaction suare, with feat ure comfort
massagery nichery, of squishy cabaret,
of traction ballet."
(Strutting her strata, layer of enchilada,
top shelf- showing feats of her gilded inlay.)
Pixie-dusts pay forth in my hand. Petals of magical flitterings, blown glass window-lings of the wind.
Glitter-witch lending, her smithing
crystal crysalis priming,
probing imagicanary rainbows, bend,
mining plot of time and reality.
Or immersed in the ocean's richly foamed foment,
of embrace, at hugging kiss of frisky tranquility
sprawl of the coasts of gold,
to wander along this shore,
with souls dared and spirits draped at it's apothecary.
Our being, reshaped,
bare bones against the atmospheric space, that
flowing tide, ambrosial wave of grace sings
of, it's vocation, in your sacred chambers.
In the vastness and variety of creation .
Remembered, as Holiday, a "Feast Day" "on vacation."
A celebration space, is
God's bounty, stationed,
in every dwelling place,
farther than the mind can see.
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