Where went my package, ordered long ago?
The app displays delivered, but no proof waits
At the door, nor at the store—no box, no crates,
Whereto my package? I simply don’t know…
Was it stolen, picked up by some joe schmo?
Or lost in transit, misplaced, dropped, as fate’s
Great comedy, with mischievous whim dictates?
Whereto my package? I really don’t know…
This stupid app is just no help, I swear,
The tracking code is gone, the “Contact us”
Is missing, or hiding in some strange place,
Tucked away from consumers unaware.
Oh! and to what end, all this tedious fuss?
Where is my package? There’s not a damn trace…
As it is the way with me, I have the car prepped by individuals whose love of the industry has acquired a rather peculiar name, "Grease Monkey."
I have no understanding of vehicles or their inner makings of their encasement under the hood the concepts of an engine. Repairing a flat tire, or locking the keys in the car, whereto, I leave it to AAA for its resolve.
Now the picture is made clear, the vehicle industry is one subject matter, when it comes to my person, I have little to no interest.
Now we're heading back to the Bay Area, and the four of us have some great conversations, lots of laughing, funny incidences in housekeeping.
I drove up to let all three off at Derek's place and waited in my car, as Derek went to retrieve his car. Jane and I shared some new news and there was no mention of that store incident, though it dwells in the back of our heads.
Derek drove to my driver's window, and I said I was going off to work, and I drove away and off to work I went, as they got into Derek's car till I was unable to see them.
I met with Mr. Eastwood for the first time with both of us, and I know he's savvy about people's character.
I would rate Clint as, par for the course as Pebble Beach is noted for, in due part to Bing Crosby's efforts, whereto the family carried the banner until AT&T, went the distance.
Clint was good, but he had an Ace, plain Joe-Clint ... had plain-Jane, along with her many SF Bay Airian invitees--zich hile, Mata Hari.
Where's William, Clint asks? (abrupts Derek's notable timing) Oh, you met William, he's like that pineapple they've invented across the bay.
It's not called that, besides, I heard you got fired. Reprimanded Jayney. William doesn't fire, yeah a reprimand would be in order, a character like you. Well, it wasn't him, it was Mr Lars. I knew it, William never fired anybody.
I agree Jane. Mr. Eastwood, William has a way of teaching somebody like throwing a curve ball. What do you mean by that, curve ball?
Well, he talked about the last hockey game's final scoring played out, while teaching me how to change the ink in our large front office machine--the hockey game lost to the copier.
July 15 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Proverbs 10-12
Key Verse – Proverbs 10:29 The way of the LORD is strength to the upright: but destruction shall be to the workers of iniquity.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR HIS WAY
Praise be to God for His way that:
Strengthens with His great influence
Saves along His gracious illumination
Safeguards through His good impact
Settles upon His glorious instruction
Secures around His grand intention
Proverbs 11:1, 20 Praise be to the Lord for
protecting us against abominations so we can:
Walk in along His direction
Watch with discernment
Wake against despair
Work midst delight
Win by His drive
Proverbs 12:2 Praise be to the Saviour for
enabling us to obtain His favour while we are:
Loving Him by His compassion
Leaning on His care whereto we cling
Living for Him with His conscientiously
Listening to His call, cleaving to Him closely
Learning from His commands with circumspection. Amen!
July 15, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawns a courtroom closing in on midday, and a cheery sun
uncovering its place being less demanding--a sage who
dons sufficiently in her vocation that imparts one who bears
a respectable position, and one of a high office--so without
delay, the judge withdraws to his chambers for consultations
with the defense attorney and prosecutor, et al., she then
advances towards the lone defendant from her private seat
in the gallery--an officer of the court, immediately takes
notice of her movements and in anticipation presented her
with a chair for her pleasure--the defendant who sees her,
respectfully stands, whereto, she politely informs him that
he may remain seated and air him in a one-sided
conversation being the soul speaker, and he as the soul
listener. Albeit, exceptions to that disclosure evolved at the
end as there is cause for the conversation to become ironic.
*The opener of My Short Story: White Lies, in two parts; I'm
afeared of old habits unchanged as alit surface, amid dim, and
aligned depth of mired cliché, sways a gavel 'ere ...
They'll pity you, or, think you're a bad a**,
as they sheathe you, roughly, embodiment
of your presence, thus the Witches' Hair typecasts,
in essence, the strangleweed, acts like ground rent,
nature's parasite plant, sheath-like its host.
The trade-off, lacking chlorophylls, futures
sustained through these vampirish nuts and bolts.
Nature poised, parasite and host, assures
time without end for both species, whereto,
if one becomes an aggressor in the
course, whereby the other put a stop to,
shortsightedly, puts an end to theirs -- huh?
Witches Hair, combs sites for host aplenty,
as strangleweeds ghost life manifestly.
Though I’m not Humpty Dumpty, I’ve had a great fall
When I tripped over my lies while walking truth’s wall.
Can all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Ever convince people I’m honest again?
Where went my stature and my hard-earned persona?
Who’ll save my soul? Will they do it pro bono?
Whence come truths’ flames when you’re discovered a liar.
Whence come God’s lightning and Purgatory’s fires.
I have seen my future, and it bodes bleak.
Its rapid erosion caused my soul to weep.
All of my tears and whereto they seep
Have topped off the gutters in life’s cruel streets.
All this has weakened my boiling brain,
And cannot save me from blame I gamed.
DAMN MY PERFIDY! DAMN SIN’S PAIN!
WILL I EVER ESCAPE TRUTH’S LONG REFRAIN!?
Will the truth that weakened me and caused my woes
Plague my soul during my reputation’s death throes?
Whence comes life’s agony. Whence comes death’s pain.
What is quid pro quo in death’s zero-sum game?
Lies are fate’s hammers but the truth is its anvil.
Will life’s vagaries still vex me once my image is strangled?
Truth’s whirlpools swirl swift and their waters wind deep.
If my soul dies intestate, must bad Karma I keep?
Walking here and there,
Scrounging for messages of Care,
Journalists of the day.
Standing by at door or gate
Spirited, to interrogate the great.
A long-serving microphone,
Miking words from those interviewed,
And an esteemed bagged camcorder on the shoulder;
Always await eventual days
So they’d pace with grace
But, their presentations tremble under status’ feet
Whereto their integrity doth greet.
Their job hence counts slackness of Justice:
That if they are to question a poor fellow,
They’ll do it diligently till he’s zero
But if they are to question a rich man,
Minister or president in particular,
The ‘eye-box’ is covered with red cloth,
Their journals closed,
And their inkers halt;
They’ll compromise till he’s out of any cases.
Sorry
They are!
Turning a blind eye to the rich’s injustices
And giving a bright eye to the poor’s…
Yellow Journalism eke in Africa?
Inquisitive sorts enigmatic notions as positions--scaled left for the right-hander--behold various perceptions, thus preserving perfection as a cure for misdirection's subtle draw.
Earnest forgivingly weakens its posture as truth betrays, incredulously, amidst reality outfitted in non-traditions; Judas kisses a face, while the strummed favors oils embrace a straining revelation that pleasures the muted.
Distractions of another sort muse the ne'er-do-wells, while diligence inks the lost, ambulates ambitious quill of risqué 'Olympia' whose indecency is shaded decently.
Tryst loses in translation, forms anew in an altered view; observant exposed a chapter; a spilled review cores a novel of two; meeting of the minds formed upon a ruinous and trifle distraction, whereto whenever praise ventures, "A dull knife makes a cutting edge."
*Image of Freedom Pub
Freedom Pub
Marred fictions of emus, ostriches
dip their heads neath, were hailed
by Ancient Rome's false divination,
of individuals, whose conquest of
enshrining their implied role.
Emancipated exacters, whereto,
the subjugators of the unlearned
majority, daily context by untruths,
orientations hard-pressed, by
tainted thumbs of paperwork,
loads conveniently,
mache for obvious design.
Decaying precursors demonocracy,
aptitudes knotting promotes,
a panache promenade of quilted
quids, as characters clash with
reality quarrels, as a shoreline
of sculpted castled sands, drift to
its emptiness of their costly
noted, S.O.S.
The absence of freedom is a true
reinvention for the masses, to
rummage and further wander, its
lineage of class enumeration
liken to some zombie apocalypse,
clueless beginning.
Lo and behold, its keepers adrift,
salty surges hath rise o'er, the
fresh living waters.
2023 January 07
*HM*
Freedom Pub
~~Joe Maverick: Judged 2023 January 09
Out of his mind
lost all control
Whither his soul
Mad as can be
completely insane
Whereto his brain
Garbled speech
making no sense
Illogic dispensed
Here he comes now
staring off into space
Kindly greet him with grace…
He’s a card-carrying member
of our crazy rat race
***NOTE: Poem posted on the above video. If you need to read it again, just right click on the video and then click on 'Loop' on the top of the drop-down menu, whereto, the video will continue to scroll.
SONG: 'Run To You', by Kaue Penna
VIDEO: The Voice Kids (2020)
POEM: 'Adolescence: Apollo's Aria' - [Kwansaba Form]
2020 December 12
By Will K
"Mele Kalikimaka"
ALOHA!
***NOTE: Poem posted on the above video. If you need to read it again, just right click on the video and then click on 'Loop' on the top of the drop-down menu, whereto, the video will continue to scroll--click 'Full Screen' for best viewing.
SONG: Voices from Hawaii, 'Doxology' sung acapella in Hawaiian
GIFY: By FG Proteins
'Satisfying Cold and Hot'
2020 December 08
By Will K
"Mele Kalikimaka"
ALOHA!
Pabulum Of Nature
Let thy countenance befallen upon thee, thy cornfields threshold be thine golden horde, that thou flash amidst thine rows thy thread of sunlight, and that thou laboring heart be thine whole of thee and that thy spread of thee stretch, beyond thine sight and into silence, excelling trees boundary whose hair of leaves lengthen in ample splendorous braids, thee hues whereto, exceeds neath a beautiful arched bridge that traipsed a virgin trail and that this, thine rainbow wanderer during its dark passage ere a clear vapourous rain ran the green flourish lea during its phantom floe whilst its flights of venturous winged birds that make a memory of this, albeit, tis naught a fathomless art and that thine Heavens didst expose a breathless wonder letting thy farm fields cast into all thine glory, a cornucopia of harvest.
2020 February 21
*2nd Place*
Writing Prompt - Ten Words
~~Dear Heart
Ode To President Trump
Benghazi fatal fiasco where four Americans and NOT illegal aliens met their fatal end and for that reason was the impetus of me casting my vote for him and not for her.
Trump is a businessman and by hook or crook, the American people and its economic future are stronger.
The impeachment vote falls along party lines with the House leaning left and the Senate leaning right.
I am guessing people are afraid to align themselves with somebody who is been demonized by Democrats, whereto, I am not. As I speak on behalf of the Republican party, I am unashamed but have due respect for those who choose otherwise, because we, Americans, have the freedom of choice and we should be proud and not waver along the fence of indecisiveness.
I and my working family who does not live on government handouts will vote for Trump again.
God bless the American people
God bless America
2020 February 01
*Honorable Mention*
Ode to a President or Politician or Leader Past or Present
~~Sheri Fresonke Harper
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.