Short Menial Poems

A simple French Carmelite monk
Into a most menial role he sunk,
A singular byway of life he trod,
Often alone and on his tod-
Practicing the presence of God.

Tribute to Brother Lawrence....

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Sarah Huckabee Sanders

Her mind performs tasks that are menial;
We never considered ever being congenial;
She slanders
Then ganders;
Porn star belonging in colony that is penal.

Jim Horn...

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Opaque opiums surfaced
Brash helpless I languish
Menial remained purpose
Opaque opiums surfaced
Rivulets of solace purchased
By stimulus I am vanquished
Opaque opiums surface
Brash helpless I languish...

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The Pineal isn't menial....

                                It's that lightbulb

                                                  within' thought clouds....

                                The Pyramid Eye  

           The source all-seeing eye.......

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Robotic primary function.
Must serve humanity.
Menial tasks our job.
Ja tvoi sluga
(I'm your slave)
Ja tvoi rabotnik
(I'm your worker)
Devoid of emotion.
Metal frame.
Empty chest.
I am robot.
You are master.


*Tribute to the Kraftwerk song of the same name from the album The Man Machine.*...

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We had a code which was purely penal 
Easy to enforce and not anal or renal
Was never any bodily harm
Caused by our constant charm;
Task we performed had been menial.

Jim Horn

I am up and writing poems as usual.
At the crack of each morning my mind
cracks wide open and poems start
flowing out....

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Here, look at life,
It’s full of strife.
I am quite genial,
But my work is menial.

Money everywhere and all
But I am poor and small.
Heaven will open a door,
Justice for the many poor.

It’s an age again of nihilism.
Affirm Heaven and believe—
There is a balance sheet.
Life has purpose—don’t cheat....

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My life once depended on a friendly turn of fate

I hung my lonely lover, with a noose named heavens gate

Your life is menial to me, my friend, my ugly truth

swinging face down from the sunshine

into the darkness I consume

so I send a swarm of blackness

laced with strobes of soundless plea

please know your time is dated

until the day I set you free....

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You don't have to love me
And we don't have to talk
Or really even be friendly
Because my acts of kindness
Were not to get something back
They were to show I cared
When you thought nobody did
So just know one thing
Even in menial capacity
If it makes your life easier
I'll gladly do what I can
Because when I see you smile
That makes it all worthwhile
...

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Sure life is a disappointment, but is it menial?
Salvageable? Palpable? Tolerable?
My brain waves are pondering this.
I am not a philosopher or anything,
yet here I am, thinking again.
Stop thinking! Society tells me.
Follow the status quo.
I am making up my mind.
Let me have a minute.
Life is menial for sure. 
I am menial.
You are menial.
Oops.
Sorry.
Did not mean you, Mom!...

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PALPABLE

imagine
the silence of
a plane
crash
if you were
deaf
imagine how 
intolerably 
loud a
rape
PALPABLE

absorbing hearts
transcending death
absorbing fears
enduring pain
TANGIBLE

in the newness of
another day
unwoven from 
slumber
we glisten clean
start anew
FLAGRANT


we busy ourselves 
with menial 
chores and cause
 then stare at
books noveleyed
CONSPICUOUS



© Kim van Breda—...

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Regrets I have a few today,
time flew by as the month of May,
ambitious thoughts I put off yesterday...

Looking back at my plowed fields I stumbled,
a reaping what I sowed kind of fumble,
out busy staying alive like Travolta,
menial day jobs and doing the hustle,

Barely making it in the work jungle,
still sorting out life's jigsaw puzzle,
shoulda, woulda, coulda my motto,
writing helping me out of my dark tunnel.




2-26-17
75 words...

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Another numb citizen anaethetized to atrocity by forever exposure,
Another perfect being being perfected under the knife of celebrity,
Another beautiful animal lungs & fur stained black by industry,
Another blunted soul mind mundaned by menial labour,
Yet another poet, throwing numb, perfect, beautiful, blunted prose to the wilting world,
Praising the invisible she with recycled words, Hailing who knows who through the smog of 
society with his attempts at lucidity....

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Dramaville , has got me living in another dimension
dangling upsidedown in suspended animation
topsy turvy amongst the wormy
degenerate's of a continuos generation
racing a race , in a blur , they face
constant contrast , a path to oblivion
the revival of the trivial
survival of the menial
individual 's lethargical
what an insane world , 
once was so magical

So , dramaville , I say to you
that's life , get over it......
what you bring into it
is what you get out of it........!!...

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