ANTE GOING UP
POTENTIAL HORMUZ BLOWUP
COULD BE THE WARMUP
I like the words “you’re welcome”
they used to be heard in cafes, diners, and buffets.
This phrase is rarely heard any more.
“You’re welcome” has been savagely replaced by “no problem”.
No problem sounds arrogant to me.
It feels like they did not genuinely appreciate my thank you.
It sounds like they are “one upping” me.
I sure do miss “you’re welcome”
which sounded like they appreciated my appreciation.
A monk with no God
Like a ship with no sail
Shipwrecked and broken
And destined to fail
Seeking some guidance
From all those around
Missing devotion
The speed of His sound
Searching for purpose
Direction required
Love everlasting
Is making him tired
Tired of the fighting
And weary of war
Fate of his people
Are upping the score
A monk with no God
Is a man without vision
Shipwrecked and broken
All alone in his mission
As far..As well? or wherever they are.? Semantics
About Semites..To me just are.' Abreham begat
Ishmael and Issac...Both semites..Got me? So far?
S'wot i think.? Should i stop short of the brink.
.? So no need for a face off, or a great
Confusing stink.' War is not the way.' Why
Shed prescious blood.? When the waters of Life
Invite you to drink.. To a new life, where joy's
Will Calls all' just let your spirit go into the pink.'
My wallet is empty of cash
When it appears which is rarely
I usually give it away
Doesn’t really matter, not really
It’s gone as soon as I get it anyway
It never lasts but that's okay
Besides, I have plenty of credit
VISA, MasterCard, Discovery
And the more I “spend”
With that lending hand
The more trust I build
Upping my score. Score!
Up the stakes, wait, change the rules?
Now, it’s me who can’t trust, who?
Sky rocketing interest rates
A debt that’s out of control
Taxing me everywhere I go
The scam’s all decorated
Beautifully choreographed
Beautifully camouflaged
All alluring, so endearing
As I assume my plastic smile
At my recently installed
Big beautiful screen on the wall.
A competitive poet with ego galore
is always "one upping" to even some score.
They disguise their sarcasm in metaphors.
Most of the time I politely ignore as
no one needs a poetry war.
Some see serenity in parity
Some seem open to disparity
An institution as old as the hills
Marriage is marked with unclarity
Some people unable to think straight
Champ at the bit, they just can’t wait
To make the mistake that seals their fate
Only to wake up when it’s too late
Worse-befallen are the ones who see
Right through their mate’s real he or she
And nevertheless, opt to go ahead
Further on folly upping the ante
“When we got married, things went worse”,
Say most people after they divorce
Success so scarce some call marriage
A miscarriage and a failed discourse
The ups and downs of married life
The rifts and shifts being so rife
Monologue the vogue, madness galore
Better no longer remain man and wife
Better unmarried and live on single
Than with the wrong type marry and mingle
If you are happy with unwedded life
Forget marriage. Resist the tingle!
Should you get married and then divorce
Beware not to sink yourself in remorse
It won’t be easy, but do cheer up
For a better life, you must change the course
Three plump old biddy birds full of birdseed and whey
Sat on a limb spreading gossip and rumors that day
I heard she did this and he did that said Mrs. McVey.
They all had a story, about things crazy and gray.
One-upping each other on this nonsensical Tuesday.
Surely you have something better to do cawed a blue jay.
They took out their sling shots and forced him away.
I never should have married that fool said Mrs. McVey
didn't
i look up
hoping to
see the sky fall
you ignore down
is its opposite
writing from the grooves
that print my fingers
i see the hapiness
i could have goat
did he mean got
caught a splinter of light in fingered tips
rode an autumn leaf
on its way down the drain
Upstart starts up
i write of crysal shape cities
trapped within the concrete at my feet
i write of ring arose
with clouds of differing greys
of eyes with nothing behind
cuts and bruises outline
my prone
trying to never learn
writing lies the truth wont turn
did ya miss me
should have bought better scopes
Sneak behind you with unsheathed pen
your sopping bled
just fuel-topical or what
for my quill
will to not have one
Upping daisies in liquid green
as breeze trickles by each blades
never use my mind to fight
all you unarmed
the buzzing fly in attic space
where from side slanted windows
moon fingers
from an empty box
pull and pool
with lines of light
dancing dust fairies
diamondize in its gentle stroke
this poem has a lot of ups and downs
I got a dog, so he got a cat.
I got a bird. He got a rat.
I got a snake. He got a gnat.
I got a tiger. He called me a brat.
And the tiger ate him. So what do you think of that?
I awoke a clock and watched it countdown towards known silence,
I arose and given the floor the reason for its presence,
Day spent amidst the greenery moored to tawny sturdiness,
Morning sun entice the blooms their ascent upping with success,
Gains a brighter hour taking a lapped route through a calm beach,
I swam and watched as a respite sun nigh zenith's grasp for breach,
Afternoon orange glow descends as I bunched up withered leaves,
Mild breeze brushes and excites facial pleasures that it achieves,
Dusk has placed the meal so great, that cast against the candles glow,
Cools the bite of night, snapping up a full day's engaging show,
In the folds of warming, it hadst journeyed me towards my keep,
Weights of my eyelids, flights a bird to unfold, wake whilst asleep,
'Tis events enthralls life's richness that made me so compliant,
'Twas morn to night, mastered was four seasons, truly triumphant,
Song: Angie Baby - Helen Reddy
Date: 05/07/2019
Words are only words til they are anchored to change,
Which shouldn't sound strange,
To those within range.
Mouthing just the words leaves lips still unaided,
And feet unmoved,
With mountains waiting to be changed.
Change only happens when there is less of the same,
And more upping their game,
To enter the frame.
Deciding what to give up is a good start,
For change to become an art,
And for the heart to play its part.
So when your children join the climate change march,
Ask them if they will give up starch,
Or stop making an arch,
And stop drinking coke in plastic bottles for the whole March.
Only then will I believe the words coming out of their mouth,
As anything more than a cold wind from the south,
That pushes the ice more to the north,
And ask more disasters to come forth.
I do not listen because my heart hurts when I hear the sad, and the mean.
And I get way too loud when I hear the happy. Sad, angry people frown at
My giant head-throwing witch cackling laugh. It hurts them.
I do not listen because it is better for my tender empathetic soul not to hear
What might make me feel bad all day long. However, people think I am listening,
Because I am the great pretender.
My head is nodding in all the right places, giving these people my comfort eyes,
As I am expertly not listening, fooling them, so I can retain the part of myself
that desperately needs to retain hope, joy, innocence, and optimism.
Uh-oh. Something has gone terribly wrong.
I am shaken into active listening, as I can tell by the person’s face
that they are not spewing out drama, or one-upping
Stories, just to be talking. I start to listen, learning who I need to help today.
My only talent, is being a maestro at knowing when and how to listen.
Rise up downtrodden,
resurrecting from the ashes,
upping dreams forgotten,
incarnate you flesh rotten,
for with misfortune you have been smotten,
from the valley up the mountain,
from warming benches to become a captain.
By Luckson Mupakamiso
If you ran out of candy on Halloween night
In those days back when I was a kid,
You’d toss in some pennies, a nickel or dime
And the kids would be glad that you did.
But today, I suspect, even upping the coins
Wouldn’t work for those used to much more
So I guess if the candy supply peters out,
Those at home just don’t open the door.
For the “trick” if no “treats” once was harmless and tame,
Like the dusting of chalk from a sock,
But in this day and age any trickster might be
Worth avoiding if you’re out of stock.
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