Long Sarcastic Poems
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Seven Mossad Agents came to Norway a winter day
when a snow drowns the needs of the homeless
asleep in a shop's doorway absorbing the sarcastic smell
of coffee and the aroma of a Napoleon cream cake.
Their mission was to assassinate a man called a terrorist
by them, but freedom fighters by others.
The target had been located, a man of 47 bearded, with
prematurely gray hair, Semitic features, and a nose somewhat bigger than what is the norm in a Nordic land
He works as a waiter at a cafe, and take the bus home
a quarter past ten in the evening, to his bed-sit, about ten minutes ride from the town.
The group needed two taxis to take them to a hotel called, “Larsen's ski lodge” a pleasant little place with
modern IKEA furniture, giving rooms an airy ambiance
the group went to work at once, the leader carrying a
heavy mobile phone, trying to make contact to base, one presumes an embassy, but failed.
One of the women donned a blond wig, walked to the cafe to be sure their target was there
a quarter past ten two men entered the bus, one of them
who spoke a few word in Swedish, asked for two ticket to Husly which was the lat stop before the bur turned around and back to town
when the “terrorist” alighted the bus the two assassins followed.
No point going into details here, but they got their man
and hid his body in a snow drift.
Cooley, they stood by the stop to catch the bus on its return trip, smoking cigarettes of a foreign brand oblivious eyes saw them at the bus stop
The assassins had overlooked one thing, the man had a girlfriend and when he didn't appeared as usual she went out looking for him with the help of neighbors
Her boyfriend was found in the snowdrift
the police quickly knew what they were dealing with
but since they, the local police were not armed, they waited for reinforcement, when in the morning the assassin group came out to go to the railways station
the group were arrested.
Then the bomb dropped, they had murdered the wrong man, another Arab, they quickly insinuated was a terrorist too, what else was he doing in Norway
The court case took a long time, one of the prosecutors
fell in love with the woman with a fake wig, tried to
say she was an innocent bystander, it didn't wash
the case dragged on, in the end, and since the holocaust
was invoked, the guilty only got a few years.
From zero to fresh focus:
No fads or "hocas-pocas,"
Occult tricks, nor superstitions,
Just go to Boot-Camp not institutions.
It's not about me.
It's to take a stand, you see,
A life if convictions;
Real-life risks, no fictions,
In live with Father-God and Jesus,
His Only Son that can free us,
Unaffected by criticisms, just in Love
With other and their dialogues; all the above
Seeing hearts heal brokenness and change
With no pretense, our focus rearrange,
Processing seriously but not redundant
With you in joy abundant!
Unseen injuries make it hard work
The fears lurk!
What is expected or appreciated,
Not just reactions with heart emaciated?
Bring closure and see a prologue
To nearing the goal, remove the "log,"
Rebound in faith, never be a snob,
Nor sarcastic or the Mob.
So keep your focus and the Power
Of the resurrected Christ in your tower.
Self-control is gain
Like waiting, it's a pain!
But keep your focus clear.
Hear God's music in your inner-ear.
Yes, we are all a-work-in-progress.
It's safe and fine to regress.
To vulnerability and keep involved.
Healing doesn't need all problems solved.
There's no natural-born leader.
In time we can also be a feeder.
So conquest the temporal and material.
Move in rebuilding the empire
Let Jesus' Way be your pick.
Don't be a lonely cynic
Give others the benefit of the doubt
Wear a smile, not a pout.
Banish the evil of a derailed life
The enemy tries to bring in strife
Like the striking snake it'll be too slow
For you fly high; it's too low!
So prepare for success.
Diligently sort the mess
All the way to the end.
Sign the Pledge not to bend;
To act, rebound, giving credit and devotion.
Like a sweet perfume or lovely lotion.
In prayer and fasting let negatives go
Study the Bible's fine print and know
That the challenge and the focus brings
Support, Light and salt-quality that sings!
Can you say what you feel?
In sincerity will your friendships seal?
We will find the common ground.
Honor and respect will be found.
If there's no logic nor gentle calm,
Will we feel the Spirit's balm?
Even pillow-fights will irritate,
The time move on with fate.
Surprises will loose their fun
With that Special Someone!
So, brace yourself, focus and move.
Soon your success you will prove
With All glory given to the Lord,
Never more to be bored.
I went to the Hollywood studio meeting
Paul, Steve and Sandy gave me a warm greeting
I was there to advise them, hired from Spain
My motto in business was no pain, no gain
So we sat down to the business at hand
Their movies were sinking, like stones in quicksand.
"How about a cowboy movie," I said...
"Good guys and bad guys with the latter shot dead!"
A gasp of wonder spread to them all
"Why didn't we think of that?" said Paul
Said Sandy, who though rich, struck me as obtuse
"It has to be woke, it must have juice
The cowboy, we'll call him Abdul McPherson
No, wait, we should refer to him as a CowPerson
His love interest should be black or brown
A birthing person, the soul of the town
The villains name could be Donald McKnight
A Donald Trump stand-in, got to be white."
"Wait," said Steve, "cis-male is a relic."
Abdul should be tender, gender-fluid and angelic."
Steve looked at his reflection in the table of mahogany
Added "How about hints of consensual non-monogamy?"
Sandy said "No! We must push the edge with our fans!
Every character, even the horse, must be trans!"
I was sarcastic, I said "for a true creative spark
We know Spielberg had a hit long ago about a shark,
Maybe stick one in the film, somewhere in the sagebrush
A gasp spread around the table, an awestruck hush
Paul shouted, "that's it! Cowperson versus Jaws!
A fable about transgressing natures laws!
Lets start shooting tomorrow, drop that Batman remake:
With this kind of theme, we can't make a mistake!"
Despite guaranteed payment, I was feeling sick
I already knew there was no hope for this flick
But they got so thrilled, they made their bet
Sunk investor millions, their studio further in debt.
I gathered my fees, went back to Spain
And "Cowperson versus Jaws" circled down the drain
To my horror in the credits, they mentioned my name
I was jeered in Madrid, couldn't face the shame.
Paul, Steve and Sandy did fine at the bank
Woke investors kept funding, though the movie stank
Though audiences felt under a dentist's drill
The Critics said the movie was epic, groundbreaking, a thrill.
Geologists say that one day, California will fall into the sea
Its already happened; Hollywood is a parody
Showdown at Noon but no Gary Cooper, can't find John Wayne
Woke Bandits have stolen the gold off the movie train.
Lying here,
Trying not to think of you
The more i try,
The more i do
Tossing and turning
Staring into darkness for hours
Why do i love you much?
Why do i give you so much power?
Though you're hundreds of miles away
I've learned the distance,
It only increases the pain
Full moon tonight,
Seeping through my windows
Trying to hold me, comfort me...
Like it knows
I wonder if you see the moon,
If you ever think of me
Is it trying to hold you too,
Are you asleep?
Does it tell you my secrets,
The ones involving you
How about my regrets,
It knows those too
No wonder i cant sleep,
My mind won't shut down
The lights too bright,
Far too many sounds
I could close the curtains,
Pretend i don't hear
But then sleep could come,
And it's my dreams i fear
Night time is the hardest,
Because I'm completely alone
Even so, I welcome the darkness
No one can see me cry...but the moon
I've had many reasons to cry,
But I'd forgotten how to
A wrong decision made,
Now that's all i do
Makeup hides dark circles,
A tear streaked face
I can't hid the regret,
Or feelings of disgrace
I thought i loved him you know?
That's why he was my choice
I still thought of your touch
Your sarcastic, soothing voice
He did make me happy...
Most of the time
But something was missing
I knew what it was...just kept lying
Sleep might take over,
Maybe I'll give in
Moon's moved out of vision,
All i can hear is the wind
I imagine i hear footsteps
Long strides that belong to you
But the more i strain to hear them,
The more i realize they aren't true
I wish i could make you remember
Remember how you use to feel
I don't know if you loved me
Whatever it was, i know it was real
I let him go,
And took your bait
Realized i love you...still,
I'm too late
Sleep is taking over,
Drowning me in its grip
Trying to stay above water,
Maybe I'll just give in
Sleeping means to dream
That's the one place you always are
You love me there, but I'm trying to forget
And this makes it too damn hard
There, you touch me like you once did
You remind me of your lips
You hold me like you'll never let go
Then i wake up...and you did
I'm almost there now, falling so slow
Into your arms...only here
You'll never let me go
There you are
I can hear your voice
You have been..and always will be
My final choice
Hers was a complete change of personality, moods, and friends
Her joyful happy self, turned rapidly sarcastic, mean, and secretive
Her eating habits changed; she did not need food any more.
Stopped eating with the family, painted her room black.
Threw her flute into the garbage. She had outgrown it.
Scoffed that she had ever been a cheerleader, calling them names.
Her friends stopped coming. She made new ones, they were in and out.
None stayed long. Just a few minutes.
Her family saw glimpses of her unhappiness as she ran in and out
Of her room, slamming doors, playing music, not doing her homework.
Her A’s and B’s nosedived into D’s and F’s, and she laughed about it.
Rapid distrust toward her siblings. Name-calling, which had never happened.
Stopped going to school until it was nigh onto impossible to keep up.
Sneaked out of the house at night; they never knew where she would be.
Left in cars with people she did not know. Parents blamed her friends.
It was their fault, not hers. She was their princess. She was perfect.
Secrecy became the norm. Her laughter became loud and ugly.
Her prettiness was gone; her hair was dingy. She stopped wearing deodorant.
Grandparents wondered where she was at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
They were given many lies from parents and her siblings. Everyone covering.
Not my child! They said when the possible truths were pointed out.
That does not happen in our neighborhood.
We are not that kind of parent.
Our child would never be an alcoholic or a drug addict.
The entire family circled the wagons,
refusing to join neighborhood barbeques.
The children were taught that the people at church
were do-gooders, and look-downers.
The children were taught that the neighbors
they once adored were now the enemy.
They were protecting the princess,
who seldom came home, sneaking in and out,
When they were asleep. Not in our family! They said. Not in our family!
The do-gooders and down-lookers were prominent at her funeral.
They had raised children also who had been lured into
the terrifying swallow-up world of drugs and alcohol.
They had so many stories; horrifying real life stories
they had never shared even though they had innumerable
opportunities at church functions and bar-b-ques.
You need a smart phone to get your number.
Take a picture of the square with the code,
answer the text message, “yes I am here”.
My number D106, better take a seat.
The interracial gay couple next to me, are awfully
grabby for 8:45 am, just mind your own business.
But, why doesn’t the white guy have any shoes on,
and why just socks, that when purchased were probably white.
Now serving D100
The rather large lady to my left requires two seats.
Whats the deal with women and tights and what’s is
the largest size available, in purple?
Her perfume choice, ode to yesterday’s cigarettes.
Now serving D101
Mr, I work for the highway department, walks buy and takes a seat.
Neon yellow shirt and jeans say, we were washed four or
five days ago and worn everyday since.
Presumably his wife, who doesn’t do laundry often, sits beside him.
Now serving D102
Two Asian men enter followed by a teenager, maybe a son.
He reads the billboard and explains the process.
Both men remove their phones and follow his instructions.
Three seat together is going to be hard to find.
Now serving D103
Across the way, a family of four, teenage daughter wearing pjs.
A Halloween motif with Michael Myer’s masked face.
Since it’s only mid September, aren’t we rushing the season a bit?
Then again, given the black lipstick and nail polish, maybe not.
Now seeing D104
Now, the shoeless gay guy gets up and jumps at the ceiling.
He’s trying to remove the cobweb hanging in front of the monitor.
Nice try, but at maybe 5’5”, LeBron James he is not.
His partner urges him to return to his seat.
Now serving D105
You know they sent you a notice: Renew by mail.
It even allowed you to do it on line, save a stamp.
But no, the picture was out of date, nearly eight years ago.
So here your sarcastic ass sits.
Now serving D106 “Thank the Lord!”
She’s behind the glass, the remnants of Covid.
Her lips are moving, but no sound is coming through.
I point to my ears and shrug. She increases her volume.
Yes, wish to renew my drivers license.
Sign the application where highlighted and $24.
Wow, 4 bucks cheaper in person, what a deal.
Picture taken, temporary printed, permanent in 30 days.
Outside finally and look down, what a horrible picture.
...Techno was so excited that
scanning the moon made him happy,
he babbled about it a he flew,
sending back new pictures endlessly.
A year passed before her reached Mars,
used its gravity to increase speed,
it was only a short fly-by,
but his scans took up all of our feeds.
The next stop he made was Saturn,
where he parked himself in orbit,
came up with questions, ran his scans,
we were all quite impressed by it.
He thought up new places to look,
new approaches none had yet tried,
he was a copy of Johns’ brain,
and saw things with similar eyes.
He stayed at Saturn for two years,
found new moons and studied the rings,
then powered up his engines for
the next great undertaking.
This burn would take him to Neptune,
but when the signal did come in,
he said,”Hooray…another planet…
well I guess I’d better begin.”
How a robot could sound sarcastic
at first boggled some of our minds,
then Johns answered,”He’s growing up,
my teenage years weren’t a great time.”
We remembered this was new ground,
a computer like a human brain,
and the data kept coming in,
enough it would take years to tame.
Techno became much more snarky
in the two years out to Neptune,
far from the excited A.I.,
he now sung a defiant tune.
When he arrived he started slow,
had to be prodded by us to act,
given the lag in radio
these delays were no little fact.
But teenage as Techno might be,
he had been created for this,
and there was nothing else to do,
so he grudgingly got to business.
At Neptune he stayed for a year,
then fired his engines once more,
a last burn to the Kupier Bel,
the solar system’s very door.
Folks were pumped for what he would find,
information, such a great wealth...
but none came in, just Techno’s words:
“You want it? Go get it yourself!”
That was the last we heard from Techno,
at least for a good long while,
we kept trying to reach the bot,
but he refused every trial.
We were annoyed, but still saw the
greater mission as a success,
the data from the two big planets
would for years hold people’s interest.
Besides it had always been planned
to draw down Techno’s power now,
batteries low, all out of fuel,
he would drift as he went, outward bound...
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
Having loved ones is an incredibly comforting feeling, but when you enter the vast
landscape of the mind and see only depression and despair, you become aware
that you are alone in your misery. Clinging to the last threads of sanity It feels as if
you are spiraling into a bottomless black abyss.
All sense of responsibility, joy, hope, drive, ambition and any concern for life are
gone like a whisp of smoke. There is no comfort offered when looking deeply into
who you are. Everything that you once held dear seems so pointless in the eternal
perspective of time. There is no escape from the futility of it all. Will I make a
difference or at least be a descent human being. If I do, what difference will it
make. Countless times have I looked into the never ending realm of insanity and
longed to leap into its welcoming arms. I can think of no greater blessing than to
lose one's capacity for self awareness.
Would I fall for all eternity or through the destructive force of madness find
normalcy. It all seems so hopeless. Some say life passes so fast that you should
cherish every moment. But, living out the drudgery of each day seems an eternity to
me. If I focus hard enough my minds eye sees exactly who I am. I have a self
loathing, over burdened, depressingly active, mentally challenged, sarcastic, twisted
thinking process. Process usually indicates order. Not in my case. My mind plumets
into a cold unfeeling wasteland that sends me into fearful fits of confusion where I
am overwhelmed with unrelenting incomparable anger. I ponder an escape , but I
realize I am destined to wallow in the company of despair and futility for all eternity
and deservedly so. Then it finally dawns on me that through my foolish decisions
and self destructive actions I have fulfilled my mission in life to be a stench filled
mass of human waste. I grieve for those who know the loneliness I feel when
journeying into the depths of the seemingly twisted internal machinations of my
mind. It is the only place that in all respects you are truly alone. I no of no other
place where hopelessness reigns as it does in the deep recesses of who I am. It
makes me wonder if I might be God's only mistake.
My wife maintained her spirit and humor all through the pre-op preparation process. She
joked and laughed with the nurses, assistants and doctors as they poked her, pushed her, squeezed her, took blood, took measurements, poked her some more and basically, just abused the hell out of her in preparation for what we knew was a serious operation.
Many of the healthcare professionals did not know what to make of her smiling face,
sarcastic tone and bubbling humor as they were all well aware of the seriousness and risks involved with the upcoming surgical procedure. But her good humor was unwavering.
In the six months since her dissection and the two months since the decision to perform this operation, my wife did her homework. She knew exactly how serious her condition was and the risks involved with this necessary operation. And yet, she kept her spirits high and her optimism never dipped.
When the anesthesiologist came out just minutes before they rolled her into the operating room and explained, for what seemed like the one thousandth time in the last two weeks, the risks and seriousness of her procedure, for the first time, I noticed signs of fear on her face and saw tears well up in her eyes.
Holding my hand as we approached the operating room where I was to be left behind, she looked up at me and said, “Take care of yourself and our Spencer”. The doors swung close and the six hour operation commenced.
It’s now seven days later and Cindy is well on her way to a full recovery. The doctors could not be more pleased with how the surgery went and with the rapidity of her recovery. There is no reason to believe that, within 8 – 10 weeks, she cannot be back to her normal, active self.
She is back to joking, being sarcastic and a regular pain in everyone’s ass – she is slowly
becoming Cindy again.
I will never forget, however, in the one second of fear and worry, how her concerns were
about the well-being of me and our son – and, not about herself.
I love you Cindy Flach.
And, I hope that if you ever decide to read any of my poems – given you do not understand my obsession with writing these silly things – I hope like hell, you choose to read this one.
Welcome home, love.
Apology to the missus at nighttime...
first day of January
two thousand and twenty three.
While the wife then in the process
of leaving a telephone message
for our eldest daughter,
(on vacation, thus unreachable)
her cajoling tone of voice
beckoned, intimated, and _underscored
curiosity to discover
how romance blossomed
between first born
and soulmate of offspring
while both progeny and
Puerto Rican young man
both freshmen in the same dormitory
at University of Pennsylvania.
I unthinkingly blurted out
thy spouse acting nosy
triggering cascading denial
of marital transgressions
(quite brutish and nasty of me)
scoring invisible black barbs
upon tender flesh
seriously contemplating divorce
to implement bartered bride
blithely cavorting with bonnie lass
abandoning desirability, eternity, fidelity...
adopting following motto de jure
gather ye rosebuds while ye may.
How innocuous for spouse clamoring
to get low down how biological daughter
came upon midnight clear
acquainting, befriending, cohabiting...
eventual future linkedin lucky man
at least once upon a poem ago
aforementioned perfect match
(like two peas in a pod).
Seconds after the rather
sarcastic word (nosy) uttered
yours truly wished he never blurted
underhanded stinging rebuke.
Whether twas love toward the spouse
who approximately twenty seven years prior
yours truly pledged troth and vowed
to uphold sanctified covenant,
when me late father in law
escorted his "baby"
down the wedding aisle.
Nevertheless I blurted out
acid tinged comment
(as iterated above)
generated an after effect
recounting me being unfaithful husband
suddenly nauseous surge
induced gag reflex
synonymously tasting like bile
no amount of washing mouth out with dial
could affect comparable retraction
wanting to turn back hands of time
best recourse would necessitate
severing ties with humanity
and accepting nothing short of exile
(for questing, trespassing, violating...
acquiescence toward verboten fruit)
walking barefoot over hot coals
every last desolate mile
despite exhibiting weariness
qua swiftly tailored harried style
years later still experiencing
gruelling emotional trial.