This is a nicely compiled book of flowing poems
of a poet who is as ordinary as you and me.
In the meadow of crimson heart lively passion stems,
you need to turn the tender pages to see.
When alone recite aloud the poems of this book,
you’ll hear the music of your resounding emotion,
as made by the dancing waters in a baroque brook.
You’ll drown your despair in the eddy of elation.
The sunrise spectrum will color your bland sky,
in gloomy days you’ll see the fervent future gleam.
To the halcyon horizon like a beguiled bird you’ll fly,
in the quiet bay of blissful poems you’ll swim.
As you walk listless through the dismal pathway
if at times life’s drudgery drags you down,
open the book and on its pragmatic pages you stay,
the poems will uplift you, this book you must own.
she stood in a corner under a street lamp
waiting for someone who would pay for her
services to provide for her child’s needs
her face wore a look of determination
husband left taking all their savings
no transportation nor job she turned
to the streets to survive in a cruel city
she did not cry she would survive
police officers are some of her customers
so no need to hide she was safe to work
city officials and a judge also used her services
they drove up in their fancy cars seeking her
they are looking for understanding and love.
they lack this at home and are willing to pay for it
she believes these individuals are lost souls
searching for understanding and intimacy
she returns to her apartment, pay the sitter
and played with her daughter.
Born in Lyme Regis Dorset
a palaeontologist fossil collector
in the English Channel marine bed cliffs
and a coprolites (faeces) detector
who at only twelve years old
found the first two skeletons plesiosaur
and outside Germany
that of a pterosaur
yet as a woman who did not
always receive full credit
for her scientific contributions
and ineligible to join to their discredit
the Geological Society of London
while struggling financially
for her it was no shell game
to make ends meet as circumstantially
when selling shells by the seashore
the seashore shells she sold
were her start of the first shell company
by the Natural History Museum in London I was told
Beloved, let me embrace you,
My touch sweeter than any virtual bliss,
In this digital space, filled with coded delights,
Let me revel in your pixelated perfection,
Tiger, let me embrace you,
My touch sweeter than any virtual bliss.
Beloved, you've savored your time with me,
Tell my folks, they'll send you emojis,
My dad, he'll Venmo you gifts.
I know where to lift your spirits,
Beloved, stay in our chat until dawn,
I know how to make your heart smile,
Tiger, stay in our chat until dawn.
You, because you're all about me,
Send me those heart reacts,
My lord of the internet, my guardian of the Wi-Fi,
My Shu-Sin, who lights up my screen,
Send me those heart reacts.
Your presence as sweet as a meme, lay your hand on it,
Swipe your hand over like a designer fabric,
Wrap your hand over it like a high-tech blanket.
:: 05.17.2024 ::
Notes:
My poem addresses the universal plight of identity in a hyper-capitalist world. I attempt to address our era's moral and spiritual conflicts. This poem is universal and specific, holding up a mirror to reads and asking: What part of yourself have you sold?
Suckers or lollipops?
Solid or pinwheels?
Ones used for little girl props,
and one every minute reveals.
To hoard large pots in the biz game
They’ll say immigrants’ only aim
To grab workers’ cash!
This augments the stash
The fattest cats normally claim
I saw a lady selling flowers
walking along where cars turn left
not much time to make the deal
maybe some folks want them
but they have to turn
or stop traffic
cars will honk
chaos
yikes
Every time I see them sell flowers
it reminds me of my mother
she used to have to do that
like a My Fair Lady
before she met Dad
I bring flowers
to her now
vases
full
But I don't buy them from the sellers
I just pick them from our garden
then arrange them in a vase
Some tall flowers, some short
complimentary--
yellow, purple
(magenta
daisies,
too!)
Said emerald isle im sinking
the weight is culpable
hope and glory all gone
the tent cities array in London,
chewing the remnant of greatness
selling england by the pound
digest the news
the politicians have asundered
their nuances
first failed, they now kick in their equity cards
into the world of tv news
who tease the teasel
in this merry go around
cell life be
to sell your time...
and all-ways have your
phone-on-knee so when...
connect-shunts come you'll be
in a realistic 'ok, act-you-all' as at tea...
stans sand
I will write a best-selling novel he says.
Sounds wonderful I encourage him. Have you started it yet?
Not on a Tuesday.
What is it about?
I don't know yet.
Will it be fact or fiction?
He gives me a weird smile. Unsure at this time.
Do you plan to use reference books?
I don't know.
Will it be about people?
I doubt it. I don't like people.
Except writers. I really like writers.
We have had a similar conversation for over forty-years.
He has not started it yet.
"But it will be a best-selling novel when I do," he tells me.
If you stopped attending paid classes
Would you sell off your reading glasses:
Gladly, speedily drop out if school,
When every scholar is thought a fool?
Are you the type, who would rather bend
To an existing insisting trend:
Hang your helpful business-like manner,
Because you have changed your shop's banner?
Then, you will have become Igneous Rock,
Whose hardness one should fearlessly mock...
From the Good Sages we venerate
"Whatever is odd incinerate"
Only the right trends may control one:
When the wrong ones do, you have not won.
Oh Mephistopheles*, happier today you must be than any other time
For
Many people are willing their souls to sell you, just for a single dime!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
17 November 2022
-
*Remember Faust, Goethe's magnum opus.
-
Yes, I had you told
My fridge would be sold:
Now tired, quite old
Few times got things cold
My hands I can fold
And stark grudges hold
Against Machines, old
Fridge that won't blocks mold...
Mine is a tongue bold
I oftentimes rolled
To bad Old Fridge Scold.
Some say presentation is everything and more
That’s certainly important if selling is your game
I learned that while managing a piano store.
Sponsoring concerts with musicians of fame,
Selling the idea that a buyer can learn how to play
That’s certainly important if selling is your game.
We demonstrated easy piano tunes every day
Teaching buyers simple tunes anyone can learn
Selling the idea that a buyer can learn how to play.
And it is true, anyone can memorize a pattern,
Playing an uncomplicated melody with satisfaction
Teaching buyers simple tunes anyone can learn.
To say anyone can play well merits a retraction
For only the truly gifted can learn to play well
Playing an uncomplicated melody with satisfaction.
Playing a few simple ditties is certainly swell
Some say presentation is everything and more
For only the truly gifted can learn to play well
I learned that while managing a piano store.
Written August 5, 2022
The internet has morphed
into a fickle friend,
warping reality
in subtle, social ways,
that no one could foresee.
The internet has morphed
into a worldwide web
that manipulates you;
bombarding you with posts
that only tout one view.
The internet has morphed
into a confidant,
with sympathetic ears
who is omnipresent;
crying emoji tears.
The internet has morphed
into a platform with
its own identity,
in a fictional place:
selling serenity.
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