Tag Archives: Famous Poets

Request Big Boy 😋

“REQUEST OF THE BACHELOR BOY.” a poem, a.k.a.: “Little Tom Needs A Mom.” Oct. 14, 2019 (MoonY DaY)

He made it HERE to EArth on TIME. He’s NOW included inThis glorious? rhyme;

His request: “CookForMe; I need a little food; Alphonse, please, a meal if you woould,

For ME because ‘I DON’T WANT TO;’ YouClean&Cook, ifYou’reAfriendWho’sTrue.”

Then, ALsaid: “There’s a name for THAT; it’s called A WIFE,

And (s)he will totally (and wonderfully) order your life;

She’ll cleanYourHat AndClock; [it’s]WorseThan[A]prison,

So, please GOOD FRIEND, please DO lis’en:

IF a wife’s too much, whatAboutAgirlFriend?

But, STILL Awife you might ‘getInTheEnd.’ “

“I don’t wanna drive, so you give me a ride, For I have values and I have my pride,

And I’ve places to go, and you have a car,

AndYouCanCookForMe&CleanForMe; I WANNA GO FAR,

Far from responsibilities LIKE: preparing meals;

I LIKE LIFE THIS WAY; I like me good deals,

And it’s a good deal to exploit and use other people,

And I like to prayUnder EACHhappyChurchSteeple,

Praying to GOD for a life that is easy; I am a bachelor, being carefree, so breezy.”

Of course, at “the root,” we all just want MOM, Cooking & cleaning for “little ol’ Tom.”

“I like to beTOMtomTHE’bachelorBOY:’ Homecooked meals & playing with every toy;

I wanna be looked after; IS THAT OK?” “Sure, Little Tom, but you might have to pay,

By takingAlittleRESPONSIBILITY (a little, at least) most every day.”

“Well, that’s a bit much; I just wanna play!

And, when I wanna sleep, I’mJustGonnaSleep right nice.”

“Well, good luck with that, Tom, but you might just think [about this] twice.”

[OF COURSE, WE ALL NEED SOME HELP; I’M NOT SAYING WE DON’T,

But HowMuchIsTooMuch? AfterSoMuch[Abuse] mostPeopleWon’t

TAKE ANY MORE OF OUR SELF INDULGED SPREE;

Yeah, I know we’re all lazy; I’m sure WE’LL ALL AGREE,

That ‘given an inch, we loveToTakeAmile,’

But dependingUponEveryoneForEverything WILL NOT MAKE US SMILE,

For at some point, most people WILL SIMPLY AVOID YOU.]

“LONELINESS SUCKS; you CANhelp some, Tom too;

You can help yourself BY HELPING OTHERS,” I say;

“Try It; youMIGHTlikeIT a little anyway.”

We’re all in THE CHOIR, and you’ve got to CARRY OUR PART;

AT LEAST DO OUR BEST. OK? Come, let’s all start,

NOT trying to give TOTAL CARE FOR US to ev ery one;

For instance, doing our OWN COOKING, it MIGHT be a little fun,

To cook for ourselves, to give us something to do.

Remember: “Little TOMtom We REALLY DO loveYOU.

fin ♥

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“AS THE GREAT TAU HAS SAID.” a poem a.k.a.: “BE The Groove; Don’t Be IN The Groove.” October 13, 2019 (Sunday)

“AS THE GREAT TAU HAS SAID.” a poem a.k.a.: “BE The Groove; Don’t Be IN The Groove.” October 13, 2019 (Sunday)

The BURDENS OF THE WORLD as there to weigh you down;

It doesn’t matter who you are; IT wants to STEAL “your crown.”

It wants your shoulders to stoop; it wants to cause you TO DEPEND,

ON IT and its resources and finally see your end,

And this WILL HAPPEN surely UNLESS YOU REA LIZE,

“YOU ARE THE WORLD OF WORLDS,” and NO ONE ELSE’S EYES,

WATCH YOU (pause) EXCEPT YOUR OWN, MY DEAR.”

(Actually) YOU ARE “The Single Eye,” encompassing the many worlds that you fear.

Only YOU can straighten your shoulders that seem so stooped and drawn,

And (just) remember: THIS IS AN ILLUSION;

Your shoulders are filled with brawn.

Thus, your strivings and contrivingS are SIM P LY ILLUSION’S PLAY,

To helpYou have a more interesting day.

YOU. YOU ARE THE ILLUSION, and “waking up” would? prove,

NOTHING except

YOU also ARE “THE GROOVE.”

fin ♥

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EUPHORIA ~ You promise us

“PARADISE.” a poem 13 October 2019 (Sunday)

“The Gates to Heaven” are guarded well, With a sign that reads: “This way to H L L,”

For the way to Paradise is NOT by sight, but BY FEEL (by) feelingIT, all right?

It’sAbout going in THERE, where “The Gods” reside;

There are safeguardsInPlace soYouWON’Tabide,

In “The Arms of God,” in “The Bosom Warm?”

ForInstance, as you approach there is a swarm, Of poisonous, biting insects there;

They REALLY HURT YOU. Why should care,

IF YOU’RE VERY FOCUSED on GOING “HOME?”

Why are YOU reading this terrible poem?

(For) IT IS a warning to all concerned, That Paradise is where you get BURNED;

H L L’s aState ofMind, you see, and Heaven too; you will agree,

That whenYouArrive, IT IS INTENSE; it’sNOTsomethingFor People”OnTheFence.”

It’s a total commitment to boredom and strife; it is a place without a wife,

Without any comfort; you are just there, To sit and think, and watch The Desert Air.

Your tour in Heaven seems to be all alone; you sit on “boxes,” and there is no phone.

So, you’reInThisRoom with “building blocks;” a place where no one even talks.

You sit and wonder, “Why’d I come, To THIS PLACE? a: To sit on your bum,

And comeUpwith creativeWays, To keep folks AWAYfROMhERE, from “This Maze,”

Like “Dante’s Inferno,” whichWasAtreatise on: “What Heaven’s like,” My Wayward Son.

The thing is: H L L’s not really so bad; it’s kinda pleasant with a mum and dad;

You get to have an education, And go onA yearly, free vacation,

You get to work from 9:00 to 5:00, And get toKindOfEnjoy BEING ALIVE.

Folks, like Jesus, who live in Heaven, Just sit on these “boxes,” and mimic leaven.

They RISE to create and find new things, ToSendToThe World, this activity brings,

People (in The World) to the conclusion (that) Heaven on Earth,

Is REALLY POSSIBLE, for what that’s worth.

So, “I’m sitting on a box, with a million, million souls,

Stuffed in ONE BODY, and the only goal’s,

TO DREAM UP STUFF TO SEND YOUR WAY,

So you’ll be content in The Inferno ALLday.”

fin ♥

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“CONNIVING MALARKEY, REVISITED.” a poem October 12, 2019 (Saturday)

“CONNIVING MALARKEY, REVISITED.” a poem October 12, 2019 (Saturday)

“So, my friend,” I said to my friend, (pretty long pause)

“I guess (pause) notUntilYou’reOn’YourDeathBed,’ then, maybe, you’ll look up at me,

And say: ‘DANG, YOU WERE RIGHT; WHY DID I EVER DISAGREE,

WITH YOU, WHEN YOU SAID, ‘Anything anyone might write or say,

IS WORTH NO MORE THAN A PILE OF DUNG.’ WHY DIDN’T I JUST ‘OK,’

YOUR ASSESSMENT OF THE SITUATION & ADMIT NO ONE KNOWS,

NOTHING, Baby,

NOTHING. NOT EVEN WHAT THE CRUD IS IN BETWEEN THEIR TOES?”

“Well,” I said to Tomius, “actually you did quite right, My Friend,

For, you didn’t even believe me, and I’m fullO’Shit too until (some) the (very) end?”

Until The End of Time, good friends, no one knows a FLIP;

People are everSpeculating, conningOneAnother withTheBook & too, computer chip,

Trying to CON Vince everyone that what they say makes sense,

When we are ALL so full of it, and no one seems to be on The Fence,

About NOTHING ’cause everyone’s got it figured out,

And it seems it’s not until they are lying on their death bed that they realize THAT;

(pause) Then, they pout: (pause)

“How was I to KNOW that ‘J,’ he is IN TOUCH, WITH SOME TRUTH,

‘Cause he is such an ANGRY FOOL; he’s nasty and uncouth?

HE TRIED TO TALK SOME SENSE TO ME, but DANG, I was ASLEEP;

My ears were stopped, my mind was locked.”

Moral: A (TRULY) BLIND MAN CAN NEVER WEEP.

fin ♥

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