A WAVE SPLASHING FLOW OF
WARS, LANDS, SEAS, AND US
Today’s war waves flow;
Oily frothing away lives
And once useless ships:
Soaring ships costing so much
To be replaced and bombed out:-
Today’s warring times
Unanchors old warrior ways
Of making money:-
Not only do gas prices rise,
But also its shipping cost:-
Ocean warring times
Leave much collateral ways
To make land-money:-
Land-money to support the
On land-power mongering:-
On land or the sea,
Political war making
Is about money:
Money to support power;
Not winning equality:-
Just check it all out,
And see what this war has done
To poor you and me:
We do not have equity,
Justice, nor democracy:-
Final awareness:
Oceans have us surrounded;
Ships daily cruising.
Can not warships also cruise,
Right up to our shores as well?
I have a lot of clothes I don’t use any more.
Some of them I have never even worn before.
Yes, I got those in my days of impulse shopping.
The styles are unique and the colors are popping!
Look at all my dresses; suits I have a few of.
But you’ll find among my tops one you’re sure to love.
Tops from my skinny days might be just right for you.
They don’t fit me now, but I have some loose ones too.
All the ones that I have worn have been cleaned and pressed.
Compliments I’ve gotten from folk who were impressed
by the fit and loveliness of some of my clothes.
Let me point out for you the very best of those.
Do you like the flowered print of this silken blouse?
Here’s a skirt polka-dotted loved by my own spouse
who pays little heed to things that people wear!
See this little black dress right here? It has such flair.
I promise you won’t get a better deal than mine
at any thrift shop these days on items so fine.
Were you to buy a hundred dollars worth of these,
I’d send them off to you without the shipping fees.
Make me man as soon as my youngster
knowingly receives their very last coddle.
The unconditional love curdles from
your loving mother’s teat.
Make it matter despite what you moo to cattle.
Prod the brittle; the previously dilly-dallied say,
“Tagalongs, hogtied stowaway freeloaders with
the trade inside loading and shipping containers.”
Longtime division produced its remainders.
A cove far off the oceans cost.
A cove in a periwinkle sea,
frothing with a bacterial foam
whipping up these sweet
whipped creamed treats
and other delights.
A fondant atop it all
till the klutz ruination
curses cause clusters of
curse wordings together,
finding their bindings.
Shame soaks the rag that wiped away
a distressed and disastrous look upon face.
Words impact with a continuous compound fracture
under the masterful tongue's dismantling of the
peace talks upheld on the other hand.
Thyme for worldly Endeavors
Don't say I am clever
It's a nuisance of thinking
A position for saying
You say mi not
I say mi am
You say We can't
I say we can
Ya'll we gotta get it
2 gattha
We gotta get it right
________________________
We stacked
"4 shipping containers high"
And made a stadium
It's to be used for 10 years
Under contract
They called us cheap
But our goal was to be
Used during the Olympics
So we could have a story
For the state of the arts
Areana built from the revenue
"No Ambitious Suiters here"
For the people by the people
Was our motto.
It's ah idea ah pending ambitious
People's who want to make an impact
In the business world!
Keen Entry Statement Follows!
____________________________________
Have it during the middle of the day
During the week, filmed to catch the
Eye of strangers
________________________________________
shipping door opens
there's a sparkle on the ground
shimmer like diamonds
The Money Note
Bad time for shipping, and I had no work, so I slept on the sofa
In my mother’s small flat, she sat up late drinking coffee,
reading and smoking cigarettes.
I had a small unemployment benefit, and my mother took most of it
For lodging, I spent most days outside trying to find work and
Sometimes I was lucky and got a temporary job as a washing
up at a cafe or cleaning the floors.
The old church in town was open until eight in the evening. I often
went there to rest and sort of half sleep, one day in front of
I saw a big money note -500 coronas- picked it up, put it in
my pocket and debated whether to keep it or give it to the verger;
Then the organ music started, I couldn’t bear it, and I left.
I thought of dinner and a nice bottle of wine, took a closer look at
The note was 500 coronas, ok, only it was monopoly money and
quite useless, back in the church, I put the note in the collection box.
shunned kicked tossed and dropped
thanks to the U.P.S guy
got few damaged goods
A bunch of entrails.
I like strawberry milk in a cute bottle.
I was one or many more of those things.
Empty as a shipping container.
A butternut squash which I only eat in the fall.
Only knowing fall things.
Fall hair, and breath.
Nothing will be endless again.
A bunch of entrails.
It’s not Halloween, I’m just myself in there.
Eyeballs and bones.
Should just be one pair of eyes, but it’s many.
I am a person who they found on the dock.
The shipping container had a trace of blood on it.
Not from a paper cut.
So they believed.
Who am I again?
Just someone who narrates.
Has more bones and eyes than they know of.
And yet, they think I’m many.
You can’t open a shipping container without a crowbar.
So they did.
They did it because they knew things.
They found out quickly.
Who I am.
I am the one who likes random things that are stuck like sticky notes.
Who I am.
Every suspect and family member explains.
Who I am.
Again.
Her,
Let's talk about her,
She's always so bright, or it's all about the sight
They way she loves, despite the other's bluffs
When someone says her name
She keeps them without any shame
One day I asked her, what does she want
Said, I have some wishes, can someone grant
To be the one, whose taken care of
As I am soft, like a freshly baked loaf
To just be free, be free as a bee
To walk out the door and be real me
How can I be not objectified, besides they say
I like the way you smiled,
May I not be the one everyone wishes for
To be someone's everything they wish for
She said,
I'm strong, I'm built like this
To be the bait or just live to be his
The list is huge and my clock is clicking
I laugh with a boy and they start shipping
Stress a distress, You have to look flawless
When you're feeling like a mess
Body shaming, no we care for you
Where were you when my hands turned blue
i asked, how do you handle all this,
Said, you should know, don't you know miss!
I pump my arms, my legs
through chlorinated fluidity,
hopeful of shaping up,
not shipping out.
up and down, side to side.
sinking weights.
still wet, dash off to my car.
vinyl and towels on the seat.
wouldn’t want to be pulled
over, wearing only a coverup,
but I want
for my shower.
to the top of the hill.
Oh! Deer!
spotted. no two. done.
no three. the fourth
has huge antlers. stops.
I’ve opened my window
so we can stare at each other.
we have our moment.
so four. no, five.
the final oh-deer
pulling up the rear,
not as robust as the last. done.
now, for the shower;
and to show hub’ the pics
of trees wagging tails,
antlers in the midst,
and the watered down animal
snapped in my itty bitty forest.
Interpreters lead a monotonous life
Always sitting behind close doors
Repeating what other people say
Again and again and cautiuosly
Their job isn't just about language translation
They serve as bridge, ships, high-speed trains
And shipping routes that connect the world
Do you think they are great
But I'd like to be one of them.
I live in a care home,I feel out of whack
I pray to Freyja,please give my legs back
One leg like wet pasta,other a short stump
Does she hear my plea, no ,I feel like a chump
She states call back later what did i do wrong
Freyja please fix my whole leg,make it strong?
I pray I get a prothetic from Lindsay
I pray I go to St Margarite some day
Too long at care home feeling too sickly
I pray for books of verse ,they surely help me
I pray for a true girl friend but I am broke
My legs are useless and I am a joke
I pray I get my bag of olive runes soon
Getting my charged runes on time will be a boon
If hope the shipping costs are recieved on time
If I am told you might be here to you die
Refuse all services ,kiss my **** goodbye
I come here often, stop,
and from the river bank, watch
the ribs of an old wreck break through
the surface on an ebbing tide.
After all this time it still seems
to crave for breath, to air
its last remains.
Whatever past it has
no longer resides in living memory
but in a paragraph inked
in a shipping registry sunk
deep in the basement
of the Maritime Museum,
or is somewhere forever becalmed
in a photograph,
time frozen on a sepia sea.
But this morning I took it in,
gave my mind
to its hollowed out hull
and let imagination
lift it from the mud and make
it whole. I sailed it
out of the suck of time
and set it upon an open sea
and as its sails billowed
across my mind, I got the sense
that throughout all the wear
of passing time,
it had been waiting for me.
the end of the line
Once upon a time, Norway was a shipping nation
thousand of people employed in this endeavor
because she was a low-paid country and could
haul, mostly American cargo around the world
Alas, oil along her coast, was found, no longer
poo, wages rose that was no good
Other nations, running lower wages, took over
and the Norwegian shipping culture
was history
Azoth
buy gosh
and buy golly.
Melody
a remedy
for every ill.
Priced
just right
for today.
Shipping
and tripping
are free.
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