MOSQUITO MIKE
Just something a bit humorous on this hot summer day..
There once was a mosquito named Mike.
His buzzing and biting I did not like.
On my arm he found a place
flitted and fluttered with grace.
I swatted at him with a handspike.
Mike dodged and weaved with carefree ease.
He feasted on my blood, what a sleaze.
He's a small creature, not grand,
Mosquito Mike, wings so weak and bland.
Caught him in my hand. OOOPS! Big squeeze.
A paradise of perpetual peace...
there's no struggle, there's no sleaze,
there's no murky sky to spread malice.
glaciers and rivers of honey embellish.
crystal chandeliers, all sparkling upon
effulgent stars shining aeon after aeon
the beacon of light, when we are gone
beyond the clouds, a Shangri-La dawn.
Enchanting heavens, glories of mirage
Are they Hotels where luxuries collage?
The real heaven is not virtue or sin
not swan songs on a serenade violin
It's only pure love buried deep within
spinning daily lives inspite of it's din.
caring for each other with words kind
hatred and violence, don't make us blind
heaven or hell, it's all only in the mind
a mosaic, of light and shade combined.
So how far is the heaven do you think?
The kingdom of God? Is it a hoodwink?
A.I.?
big lie!
all fake
don't take
refuse
to use
and please
no sleaze!
DIY Survival
Listen to this rhyme I say,
and be prepared every day.
In the forest you may go,
weather shine or weather snow.
If your lost within the trees,
don’t run around like a sleaze.
Don’t tromp about and shake your head,
for if you do you will be dead.
Stop and sit you whipperbate,
start a fire and then just wait.
Make it smokey and not too tall,
they will know it’s a rescue call.
Give it time for them to see,
and they will come to rescue thee.
Use this time to assess,
just how big is your mess.
If its past three days or more,
then it’s time to find the door.
Use your head and take your time,
it’s downhill so do not climb.
A river stream or a brook,
for this feature you must look.
Then follow it all the way,
downstream you go in the day.
If you listen to what I say,
civilization comes your way.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
Too stoned to care
wild eyes and hair
My friend and I dare
to order four pizzas
Where are your friends
the manager inquired
Oh, they’ll be here in a bit
our tongues purebred liars
Well, we snarfed down the pizzas
though ‘our friends’ never showed
So, when we asked the proprietor
how much we owed…
He told us $200 bucks
‘coz it’s just your good luck
to meet up with a fellow sleaze
who understands your ‘munchies’
~ and has already contacted the fuzz
Tendrils twist and dance, guiltless, unblamed,
getaway vehicle, of the flame-
uncharged of previous transpyre, that's your game.
Like a serpent you shed your skin of the shame
of the red-handed fire.
You greasy sleaze, you leave yourself lingering,
advertising yourself on the byways,
but coy- like a transmitted disease.
Perhaps Prometheus will give you a place to lay low
till things cool down.
Maybe Haefestus knows what to do with your sort.
I think you should go to Hades,
for swaying every which way the wind blows,
you two faced liar.
But wouldn't it also be fitting if you went back to Aphrodite's Temple and returned to those
choking on the burnt offerings-
of their lust-
choking out true desire.
Portrait
This portrait of you gladdens me
It looks like you; depravity
you’d hate it, friend
it’s pitiless,
displays your foul malignity.
Your smile, well
it’s ominous
vampiric canine alias.
The painter tried to hide that smirk
to cover sleaze in fancy dress,
not all paint can cover murk.
He captured your peculiar quirk,
that nostril flare of snobbery
you were a nasty piece of work.
He’s the Politician’s politician
Amazing all with the ease
He cruises through public life
Somehow avoiding all the sleaze.
It seems he’s Teflon coated
Pulling all the dirty tricks
Yet when it comes to blame
No accusation ever sticks.
Loud voiced and abusive
He slides easily through life
And only a naïve fool would
Trust him anywhere near his wife.
With his quick release zipper
And his foul arrogant way
He’s your modern party leader
Reflecting the morals of today.
He’s the maker of the rules
But thinks it rather absurd
Few realise they’re not for him
But just for the common herd.
So, all stand to attention
And wave your Union Flags
While he behind the scenes
Fills his bulging money bags.
It’s the public double standards
He supposedly really hates
While not far behind the scene he
Shovels cash out to his mates.
He’s the Politician’s politician
Whose luck never seems to fail
When in any just society he’d
Be languishing long term in jail.
A zephyr breeze, like a feather so gentle and light,
caresses my face on this summer's night.
Always wanting to play, it dances and sings,
fluttering my leaves, rustling my things.
It tickles my skin with its soft touch,
in ways it knows I love so much.
This zephyr sleaze wants to carry me away,
tempting me with fragrant flowers in bouquet.
But I take far too long to respond
to its wants and pleas to belong.
With a tut tut, the wily wisp moves along
turns its back, shrugs, and is gone.
If the big bad wolf had evil eyes or looked the part
Scary and frightening, with an obviously mean heart
We would not be fooled, and life would be fine
But Big Bad Wolf camouflages himself, completely out of line.
He has a handsome face, and clean manicured hands.
He dances a slow methodical foxtrot to popular bands.
He opens the doors, and uses polite words like please.
So unsuspecting innocents do not spot his sleaze.
Juries let him off over and over again.
Because his smile charmed them or their kin.
He looks contrite, some say, we could not convict him.
Thus, the Big Bad Wolf gets to murder innocents once again.
Fear not the beast of age,
Now you are mature an adult.
Thou shall hail from thy night cage;
Talking about concerns phobia consult,
For in it, overflows river of blissful wage.
Fear not the twist of tongue,
Or the loyalty of those spying,
To insult the efforts you dreadfully dung,
With no intention than pretty sighing...
Weighing heavily pregnancy so young.
Fear not the twist of chance,
Buried in mysterious harmless prank-
Of once opportunity lost; it lives in trance.
Do you limit yourself to that, be frank?
Resolve bugging other logics to glance!
No revival cream cheese,
Like groundnut oil will ever do.
Neither do faults' wave flees,
To never appear again in the blue.
Fighting back, surely ills been sleaze.
May all sickness mails hang.
Network ye be unavailable!
May your darling gang,
Offers you scope advisable
And get drums loudly bang...
Thou nature's fragrance so sweet,
Submit happiness to his feet
And forever to his grace,
Bring enough fortune embrace...
That gets enemies plans defeat.
Happy birthday!
Age off hell!
Have your say;
State all well,
Out shining MAY.
Amen!
A clipper ship for my birthday please.
I shall enjoy the spray of the ocean breeze.
I may groan and snarl and cough and wheeze.
It would be wonderful, so please do not tease.
Just a second, I need some space to sneeze.
Want to travel with me beyond these trees?
I do not mean to be an arrogant sleaze
But a clipper ship for my birthday please!
She sensibly shells purple peas
To fill the bowl between her knees.
She longs to flee the filth and sleaze,
And dreams of breezes in Belize.
We paddle through small talk,
I like her, she has style.
I imagine we have a history together
back in an old movie that I have yet to see.
I begin to construct a lost and anecdotal life.
In another place we’re a vaudeville act
wisecracking between meal tickets.
Our home, a trunk covered in Midwest decals.
We share the occasional Spam sandwich,
theater gossip and sleaze; we cuddle
as we trundle along
long defunct rail tracks.
We date in elevators,
make out in a battered Oldsmobile.
In Bangkok, we share a ride in a Tuk-Tuk
careening down narrow streets.
On any sidewalk, we meet regularly
as reflections in windowpanes.
Today you’ve gone to Guatemala
to fight for a right.
Marimba music plays
as you climb up my spine.
Time now to rent more space
outside these traveling dreams.
Think about the exertion
The schedule insatiable
The orgasmic rounds
He has to make
Greasy, idle hands
Come calling
Sleazy wild glands
And their sweet appallings
Every night
Every day
The sordid sprints and marathons
In every indulgent way
How many ****
Can one guy fondle
How many cocks
Can inspire a rondle
The King of Sleaze
Has begun to wheeze
So grant him respite
Before those horns of plenty
Fail to connect or sustain
His wicked signal of sin.
(2/16/19)
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