Poetry Potpourri 2: Dancing, Internship, Orlando


Vietnam, PeaceDANCING

Don’t get me wrong, John,
I’m only dancing.
But here’s how it is.
I paid in ‘Nam.
So stop your damn dance.

Or I spit in your face.

Truth profaned.
Oracle mundane.
Information age.
Pearls and swine safe space.

Lies for rich men paid.
InternetPorn, tweets and games.
No guns and no grenades.

Avenge me in my grave.

But John,
I’m only dancing.






Through the hoops to claim my fate.
On a credit credibility
paper chase.
Join the club, don’t sweat the rent.
Out the door I went.

Handshake confidence.
Success is mine.
Pretty fly in a suit and tie.
When to speak and when to smile.
I’ll meet you on the links.

A perfect pretend pretense.
Present, past and future tense.
Again without end. And again.

Sir. May I have an internship, please?



Parents, preacher,
ruled, schooled.
When will you stop playing it cool?
Ride pride, righteous tide.
Save face.
You are a liar.

Fear, tears, years, tool.
Fate scorned, praise faint.
Fool saint.

Name’s safe.
All gone.
Pain stays.

Images from Pixabay. Insanity from me.

Just a few more words, yet never complete.

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