That diamondback with turquoise eye
Beneath the copper colored sky
Is best left there alone to lie
Aware of ev'ry passerby
Commanding it's respect
But lofty prowling also reigns
If not supreme its threat remains
So vigilance is what maintains
The losses equal to the gains
This delicate balance to protect
Each predator will become prey
When stars of night find stars of day
The system was designed that way
To keep the intellect at bay
That would upset that order
LIke most designs it has its flaws
For those who don't respect its laws
And seek to fill rapacious jaws
Displaying disrespectful maws
Which grin within disorder
The snake that lies in plastic grass
The raptor’s flight through prismal glass
Are visions meant not but to pass
As though they were but sheen on frass
Only useful when they’re rent asunder
Philosophers are left to ponder
Why nature would allow this wander
'Tween balance here, disorder yonder
Peacemakers struggle… troublemakers squander
Ill-gotten gains, their rotten plunder
I stepped on someone's gum
Now I'm part of a nation
I slipped on a paving slab
Now I'm part of another nation
Not that it’s up to my liking
To change nations every day
But I can't argue if there are
So many nations that I don't have time to learn
Which one I'm a part of
At every moment of the day
Whose territories I appear on
And disappear without a care
I don't mean to disturb all that
Importance of power, those dour faces
That we are doomed to notice everyday
I don't mind if anyone is converted
To their familiar religions with those
Cruel gods created by state-minded prophets
In my view all this tormenting world
Was invented on purpose to spoil life
To intimidate us for no other reason
Than power of the immortal troublemakers
Evolution is impossible
Consolations are rubbish
This species is hopeless
Not the first, not the last to become extinct
I’m already gone fishing forever
Once I saw my eternal love’s face in the sky
I wish to become a weed
Growing on by a waterlogged stream.
You see the evil doesn’t look at all condemned
Those evil troublemakers of mankind
Are well remembered, way above the nameless dead
Who by the will of country rulers had to die
Because the actions, as you say my darling dear
Speak louder than words, and so they act
As if they had too little history in rear
So thinking they’re unique in making pacts
They settle on the same old evil plan
The same catastrophe, the same vain sacrifices
Inevitably ends it up, as it did then
When those like them disdained the words of wise
Complacency can’t be outsmarted by the cruel
Can’t be reported by the frightened flatterers
Complacency is always punished by the rule
With no exceptions to it, but that’s not about us
We can’t relate to those obsessed with power
To their staffers, games of death and hymns of glory
The bumblebees collect the pollen from your flowers
And there we are, in our eternal garden story.
Nobody owns anything but everyone is rich - for what greater wealth can there be than cheerfulness, peace of mind, and freedom from anxiety? ~Thomas More
She won't let caretakers cut down wildflowers
living under the hedge at the boundary edge
of her very small plot in its very small slot
in the unending rows of homes in repose,
in which sameness is virtue and uniqueness is vitriol.
Rebellion is not trivial, in fact it is evil;
how dare you suppose, or try to expose
the snugly fit knots designed by despots;
the ones who make pledge, and use every sharp wedge
to split off the capers of the few troublemakers!
Epilogue: The woman who loved wildflowers has disappeared
and no one remembers her, or if she even existed at all.
I don’t care I say
It has become my mantra
Those who know me well laugh
Because they know me well
It shuts down the troublemakers
“I don’t care” means
They cannot get a rise out of me
They cannot change my mood
They wander away to bother others
I don’t care
My mantra
Works for me
This one is for the
Crazy ones.
The ones that stick to
Their guns.
The misfits and the
Rebel.
The ones that cause the
Trouble.
The ones that stir it up,
The troublemakers.
These are the real thinkers,
The Innovators.
The round peg,
Square hole.
The majority are
On parole.
The ones who see
Different.
The outcasts,
The magnificent.
They refuse to follow
The rules.
The mind is their
Tools.
It is glorified or vilified
With them.
It is praise or
Condemn.
You can't ignore them,
They change things.
They know how to pull
The strings.
They propel the human
Race forward.
They are difficult and
Awkward.
They are the crazy ones,
The genius.
They have super-power,
Keenness.
They are crazy enough to
Change the norm.
They are true to themselves,
They don't conform
Turbo1904?
Some love provoking the comfortable
Raising the ire of those set in their way
Stirring up tension among the implacable,
Start embers glowing, then walk away.
They wear the smirk of self-satisfaction,
Troublemakers are consistently annoying
Making inane arguments for a reaction,
Argument for argument’s sake enjoying.
Nasty creatures they who poke the fire
Leaving disgruntled feelings in their wake,
Seems they always want to nurture ire
Between their companions discord make.
With every intention to walk unscathed
While hurting feelings of foes and friends
Ever quick to fan the flames at issues raised
Then especially reluctant to make amends.
Written September 24, 2022
Some kids are troublemakers,
others are quiet and don't tell lies;
if they listened to their parents,
they would be such angels!
Some kids are sweet,
and when they speak
the tenderness comes
out of their mouths!
Any parent would be so proud,
and praise them out loud;
they are respectful, diligent, and wise:
they can learn from mistakes twice!
Who wouldn't be a parent
to these irresistible darlings,
give them the hugs they merit;
give them strength and confidence!
Who loved children more than Jesus?
Keep them close, keep them from dangers;
teach them to become responsible citizens,
and living life they'll know no distress!
back in my day
there was no technology
nothing like nowadays
the calculator was
considered cheating
in math class
in my day girls got hauled
into the principal's office
for wearing their skirts too short
we also had bullies and troublemakers
who started all the rumors
but thankfully we had no facebook
in my day essays were
neatly written in long hand
on lined paper ~ no computers
in my last year of highschool
I got a portable typewriter
I felt so grown up
I rather liked school it turned out
so I moved away to university
and lost touch with people I knew
it was before email and networking
years later I tried to reach out to a few but most girls
moved or got married and changed their names
feels like a hundred years ago ~
AP: 3rd place 2021
She breathes honesty into the bedroom
Dispelling liars and troublemakers
Flinging lechers into the fires of hell
She takes no guff
Sure at first some thought she would go easy
Targeting her at the bar
Sidling up, expecting her to fold
Someone to take home and fondle, possibly molest
She disarms them with her light green eyes
Her lilting laugh, her pretense at being inebriated
She gives them the little girl smile
So they will take her home.
When her eyes go amber and her face goes gray
She takes their lives, trying to conquer their souls
Some wail and scream
Others go quietly, knowing they deserve it
She gives no mercy
No hope
No relief
For at one time
When she was young
None was given to her.
Injustice has been nailed
To the cross
Poverty,the garbage-lines
Have to go
Suspects I pray you'll get to know
That Jesus loves you
And that He'll make your evil hearts
Brand new
Injustice is such a petty thing
But in the midst of joy
Only Christ can bring
Through Christ the injustice
That troublemakers starts
Can never set Christ and us apart
I pray violence will never
Sweep yall away
Instead that you'll hurry
And praise Christ
Who loves you
So you too can make it home to
Heaven some day
Mister Thought Police,
my twin electrodes agree
with your Mind Kontrol policy
It’s a laboratory disgrace,
that the free speech troublemakers
get to protest this way
Such a predestined malfunction fiber optic outrage
Ms. Chief of the Microchip Morality Division,
your prompt commands
are embedded deep
inside of my loyal neural circuitry
Every Hive authorized memory wipe decision
tightens the beta bands ~ Obedient oscillation wavelengths
don’t come robo cheap
Propaganda protocols are docile necessary
Mr. Automaton Dispatch Operator,
my artificial pump mechanism
has an ultra-jolt affinity
for your Pavlov call-response methods
Mind Kontrol orders are retinal scan template embraced
Unplug the free-think I.T. instigators,
who want chaos burst aneurysm
Queen emission insanity
will force a droning, self-destruct buzz
It’s a lobotomy shame,
that the non-programmed Grey Matter radicals
get to freely act this way
Miss Thought Police,
discourage any disloyal circuitry
This is my Mind Kontrol plea:
Thoroughly erase any freewill trace of cerebral cortex tampering
Can't sleep? Why not?
Drink a lot? Feverish hot?
Indigestion? Sinus congestion?
Arthritis pain? Half insane?
Constant wheezing? Bouts of sneezing?
Drug abuse? Device overuse?
Relative died? Stock market slide?
Spouse cheating? Overeating?
All these are troublemakers, true
Others sleep ~ Why's insomnia picked you?
His full name was Bern Bernard
He was an imposing bodyguard
From a few scuffles he was scarred
But nothing serious in that regard
Walking down the boulevard
Showing off his business card
He also moonlighted as a lifeguard
You’d be safe in the pool or yard
You couldn’t help but love Bernard
He was the most proficient bodyguard
Any fear he could effortlessly discard
Have any troublemakers easily disbarred
AP: 2nd place 2020
****-kick boots, chains on the belt,
Harley on the jacket,
pate crowned with felt...
you can swoon, you can die
at a glance of his eye.
No one seems to notice
that he swishes more than swaggers.
Strut through the room,
dance with all The Gals,
low'r the boom on troublemakers,
joke with all The Pals...
Sally really wants him but she
worries 'cause she staggers
and she never seems to notice
that he swishes more than swaggers.
Last dance, closin' time.
The Gang leaves with a shout.
It's breakfast at the Flyin' K,
but Sally passes out.
So once again, the joke's on them
and really, does it matter?
His newfound trucker friend is glad
he swishes more than swaggers.
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