Adult content

Morning Triku #173 ~ Occasional Hubrisity

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Just an Expression

At last old enough
for age to be an excuse
to freely express
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Heads or Tails

With age comes wisdom
but all things are relative
so wise up not ass
~

Poetic License

Deep down a dipshit
lying in wait to squirt forth
and conquer an ode
~

Earth, Wind and Fire

It’s the last haiku
till syllables dance with lines
in three dimensions

~*~
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Trumping Trial-less Tribulations

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Traversing tribulations;
on a quest for better situations,
dreaming dreams of our past,
finding nightmares came to fast.
Parents seeking wages,
find now children in cages.

Sought was a new life,
free from dominance and strife.
But how soon we forget,
our immigrant ancestors wishful bet.

Improving lives without hesitation
was the founding of this new nation.
Salvation given, a new fabric knit.
Kings be damned! “We” was writ.

Now a bum on his throne,
dreams a world he can own.
Manipulating his masses,
heads up their asses.
Wiping tears from wistful eyes,
blurred are lines of trickle down cries.

On a race of superior stupidity,
destruction reigns for pale supremacy.
With tribal fear to defend,
this world they will end.

~*~
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Morning Triku # Maybe the Last or 154

Going, Going, Gone

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Poetic Visions

A poet can see
the past, present and future.
Then write all the wrongs.

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Forever Green

In time we all green,
some blossom, others jaded.
Most just get moldy.

~
Pocket Full of Poesy

We’re going to hell
in a hand-basket held by
a deplorable!

~*~
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Wock the Fock

Clocks no longer tick and tock
Keys unneeded for heads to lock
Brains rattle from what’s now rock
Age divides by the Dr’s Spock

Less is more in a frock
Big pants needed for a glock
Weaklings trampled, the rest to mock
Sheep gather and shepherds flock

Inky portions above the sock
Lightning strikes always shock
Ships of fools sit on a dock
Boats float down the block

Looters lament taking stock
Homeless homes best to knock
Future’s fresh in a fetid crock
Till time no more will tick or tock

~*~

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Error Era

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The end of an era,

the start of something new.

Good or bad is just a guess,

we really have no clue

.

We relish in our hindsight,

twenty-twenty it may be.

Yet the future catches up,

too late for you and me.

.

Nuclear cars once pondered,

but a bomb blew those away.

Now we arm the masses,

and send them on their way.

.

Holes in children’s heads,

breeds forever night.

Darkness will consume,

Till we all see the light.

.

Silence bears no witness,

when shooting first to defend.

The truth’s now one-sided.

When will this era end?

~*~

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Haiku Cassette

Play

What has characters,

stories and hopefully lines?

A writer’s notebook

~

Fast Forward

Technology is

Much like life, if not embraced

You’ll be forgotten

~

Rewind

Time and energy

consumed is the same reflecting

as is projecting

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Stop

If No means maybe

and maybe means yes then stop

means: Back off ass hole!

~

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Hot or Heavy

Intellectual intercourse, screwing with my brain

In and out, in and out, it’s driving me insane

Mingle, tingle, fiddle and wrangle

Contortions of thought in an obtuse angle

 ~

Choose your philosophy from the six-o’clock news

Share the cheers of winners, without deadly dues

Think what you want, do as they say

Lie and be trampled or kneel and pray

 ~

Feel the salt slide down your throat

Maybe it’s time for a bigger boat

Faster cars or super-sonic jet

All’s to lose when time’s the bet

 ~

Spew some truth, take your chance

Or sit and wait and never dance

You’ll never know how far to go

When life’s an illusion, just a TV show

 ~*~

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Morning Triku #59

The Hunger Haiku’s

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Drips End

 .

Precious little bean

Sweet with cream dream, water pure

Hot tonic to cure

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Scrambled Emotions

 .

Warm and firm to touch

Smooth curves conform in cold hands

Crack, beat add to heat

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Lustful Awakening

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Its length is lovely

Its girth is great – Goooood Morning!

Sausage on my plate

*

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Porta-Poetry* Triku

*Rated IA (Immature Adult)

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Tissue Shrouds –

No matter the seats

An outhouse be – pit alone

Assesses its tone

*

Haste Makes Waste –

Like the hasty turd

Rushing to an open door

Nourishing no more

*

A Pig with Lipstick –

A penned little pig

Who plays in yesterday’s poo

Is someone’s lunch too

~*~

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