They warn about the mess inside,
The clutter in my head,
The sheer accumulated grime
Where thoughts are left unmade.
I stress about some unpaid bills,
Then let the dust repose,
A muddy swamp of open tabs,
And piles of laundry clothes.
I thought about a sandwich crust
I dropped a week ago,
Still lingering in a dark abyss
Where no one dares to go.
A soil of half-remembered names,
And crumbs of useless facts,
Unswept, unscrubbed, unpolished thoughts,
And overdue tax acts.
So if you say my mind is foul,
You’ve hit the nail right squarely—
It hasn't seen a broom or mop,
And frankly, cleans up rarely.
You thought I meant a different dirty?
Get your head out of the gutter!
My brain is just a dusty room
Full of trash and clutter.
What is harder, the border, the pictures
or the brightness of light and dark pieces?
It is a mishmash, sordid assortment of
escapism, scrutinized under illumination.
Piece by piece, I fall to pieces, pick them up,
scatter them to my mind’s wind, hem and haw
over the nuances; why do I torture myself so?
In the vice of the big picture - resounding parks.
Two canvas frames, two boxes, tepid waters,
the need to complete, competing only with
me, myself and I. Now, I see everything in
tabs and blanks, even as I count sheep.
Even as I watch t.v., the pixels penetrate my eye,
portion into die-cuts. Dioxyribonucleic acid flesh -
are we pixelated…like paper doll cut-outs with
wardrobe and accessories, my own Barbie palace?
Soon, I will finish this 27 by 20 preoccupation.
With a stethoscope and head mirror, examine
each rectangle - 63 squares; my hope - not
one morsel is lost, pieces of my life complete.
Teri supari
Your Supari Chaat Stall (Delhi's Famous One)
"Look over here too, have you forgotten?
I'll show you sights as well,
It's not about samosas, it's about chaat.
Now I'll set up a cart—not on the street,
But in the heart! And feed it straight from the heart to bhabhi too.I'll tease for sure, but nothing for free.
I'll pull all-nighters in shifts, just keep tabs on the updates and accounts,
Madam, or else in the rains of Sawan—
I'll shut down credit and sulk with you!!"
"Didn't ask what I earn from this chaat? Your love and my beloved's heart! Gotta expand this cart (business) soon, or the bride will run away... gotta buy those bangles!!" For kangana
With love all,
R.jrtanmb Aghori
This is a poem, for the wind
Not for you to read, dear reader.
Be gone - and allow only the breeze in.
Go on, hop it - I welcome the draft.
You are eccentric; I like that
Back door gales and wrecked heel tabs
Slammed hatches; a gateway to gusts
Yo-Yo Ma on the ocean; in shorts.
Trying out - Haydn and seeking
We are energy and so are you
You are old enough now dear wind
To host your own podcast.
I'll set up a mic and table for you
If I can be your first and only guest.
Five year olds in the sandbox,
Scaffolding into the next century.
Babble, taradiddle. Bunkum.
They stand in halls
Monitoring behavior
Waiting for unscripted
...movement
With paper and pen
Thought recorded
As evidence against
...difference
No matter the location
The system, firmly, in place
Keeping tabs on
...choice
Grown folk tattling
On game changers
Trying to alter narrative
...with action
Authority made aware
Power stripped naked
Souls being "self"
...in LOVE
Power vs Relationship
Leaving live wires
Trying to connect
...to source
Without Surrender
Written by Trudy Schrader on 01-29-2026
Who can find an excellent woman?
She is worth far more than rubies.
~Proverbs 30:10
I am on the near edge of seventy decades of living,
and as a wise man once said what others think of me
is none of my business and I no longer
care to know, I have learned to simply be.
I am not a delicate equation anymore,
waiting for someone to create a solution
equaling his expectations at the expense
of mine, my value is worth many rubies.
I desire to continue in singular contentment
with my close family nearby to keep tabs on me~
Google AI recognizes that even though
I am not well known I exist.
Not honoring your signature,
it’s easy with tabs left open.
There’s no commitment.
You can keep going,
you can stop.
It’s your decision.
No need to follow through,
no need to keep a promise.
If it doesn’t happen?
Nothing falls on you.
Words don’t mean much.
Never a problem to solve,
no need to be bothered
just hit block.
There’s no responsibility,
your bill’s not overdue.
Someone else will do it,
just go with the flow.
Not honoring your signature,
with tabs left open it’s easy.
For the Contest: Abandon
Sponsor: Constance La France
Written 20.05.2025
To live with abandon is to spend your soul as if the tab will never come, but it always does – by unknown
When abandon runs dry
He spent money with merry abandon,
Like laughter thrown into the wind.
Tossed akin to confetti in events of fleeting joy.
He kept no tabs, no ledger,
there was no tomorrow.
He moved through life
as a flame burns through paper.
Notes flew from his hands,
the way birds scatter startled by gunshots.
There was no guilt in his pockets.
He opened the tap and shouted the bar.
People called him legend and slapped his back,
till the wind changed and downturn came.
Then the centre of gravity shifted,
the barstools cooled,
the phones stilled,
silence frosted all the beer steins.
He found himself orbiting absence
nobody patted his shoulder,
nobody flipped a coin in his cup,
He had poured himself into the room,
and when the keg ran dry,
all the lychees vanished…
they all abandoned him.
He doesn’t speak of it now,
just nods and smiles with that tired kindness
you only learn after the last music notes.
Love you Joe
cold hands clutching tight,
whiskey spills on unpaid tabs,
dogs eat in the street.
(verse 1)
I have really long hair,
don't understand why people stare.
I'm looked down upon by society,
they try to destroy my dignity.
The people call me lazy and low class,
'cause my mop is almost to my ass.
They call me a hippy refugee,
and try to discredit my capability.
(chorus)
I drive a beat-up old car.
I'm your back road man!
I live at the local bar.
I'm the back road man!
(verse 2)
My vehicle didn't pass emissions,
now I can't get tabs.
My car no longer has insurance,
now I'm chasing taxi cabs.
So, I borrowed plates from a regal,
that belonged to my ex-honey.
Now my mopar looks street legal,
what a way to save money.
(chorus)
I smoke hand rolled cigars.
I'm your back road man!
I drink beer from jars.
I'm the back road man.
Lyricists Inc.
D.A.P. / Digital Analog Productions.
Written: 1-27-1995 David A.Porter
©? 01-24-2023
I said as a young man
I don’t have a jealousy
Bone in my body
I say as an old man
I wish I knew better
Saying that and
And believing that.
There is no such thing
For a woman to have
A male friend only
Her desires, and his
Are always there so
Be jealous and never
Let opportunity be
And follow the rule.
So, as a young man
Or an older man
Let him or her know
You are jealous, or
Don’t just let the opportunity
For them to be at hand.
Always keep tabs
Being Jealousy lets them
Know you care
Even if you do care
And don’t show it
They will! go elsewhere.
If rain were a creature of shapeless form
The taxman would tax some of the jets
That he would regard as beyond the norm
But the tax receipt the rain doesn’t get
It’s a conflict of law and water tycoon
Who irresponsibly floods the land
This affects the climate on Earth and soon
There’ll be more sea and less of sand
By hearing this issues, the rain goes “ What?”
“Who do they think they are, judging me?
I’m closing my tabs, so you fools will get hot
Till you kneel and pray for my new jets to see.“
Timmy developed bad hay-fever
He saw the doctor for some tabs
No medication seem to work for him
He tried everything the pharmacy had
Another problem soon arose
For all and sundry to see
Each time Timmy sneezed
He would get a woody
His hay-fever now out of control
Sneezing constantly
His woody was up and down
Getting weary as can be
His woody stood to attention
In the most embarrassing places
The town folk were disgusted
Disapproval on their faces
The doctor rang Timmy to say,
Please come and see me
We have an amazing new medication
From your hay-ever you will be freed
A miraculous new antihistamine Timmy was prescribed
The outcome he could not believe
‘Miracles do happen’ Jimmy thought
No more hay-fever, no longer did he sneeze
The other issue was also resolved
Such a relief for dear Timmy
But now his willy was sound asleep
In a coma permanently!!
'dolce far niente', is an Italian idiom means 'sweetness of doing nothing
It's humdrum of work twenty four seven
thrumming a suffocated heart to burnout
too many tabs open in frantic switching
moments of leisure in despair and doubt.
Can't I pause a while to look around nature?
a peacock dancing to tunes of a cuckoo,
when worries vanish in a world of euphoria
lying on a hammock, there's nothing to do.
A simple miracle, the two little sparrows,
captivated I ask, what are your names?
they flit around, twitching with a squirrel
finding hidden nuts, adventure fun games.
Mr Time is no warden...dolce far niente
in shade of siesta, there's no feeling of guilt
no gems sparkle, only with uncut diamonds,
precious spare moments, a Heaven is built
Knick-knacks, bottle caps, pop tabs, and acid
The reflux of my mind of many memories redacted
Connections don't elucidate the fuzzy things that happen
Only emphasize the vacuity of brains fried and flattened
I wouldn't deign to age another decade with this habit
But self-control's a feeble virtue in youthful years uncounted
Demote me to a lesser life where everything is vapid
My rancor for the world only grows as time elapses
I press on indulgently into the sugared gasses
The romance of it influence next generations addicts
For boys discover empathy and girls affirm their status
They haughtily plod to the tracks as the sully train passes
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