This Reality Show

This is just another rerun
of that ole' 70's Show
You know the one,
That silent film
Where they break into
a Hotel and nobody knows nothin',
remember they all plead the fifth?
then they all claimed they hadn't seen,
We've watched too many episodes, of this,
for nobody to know a thing,

Y'know that movie starring Haldeman, 

Ehrlichman, Mitchell and Dean?
'Bout Time we turn the channel,
or better yet unplug the set,
I'd rather be watching Scandal,
but this scandal is better yet.

And I can recall my favorite one liner
from that ole' silent flick,
"The American people don't believe,
anything unless they see it on television."
Means they practiced to deceive us,
Like a rehearsed derision,

And we keep falling for this shit.

What was that ole' actors game?
with his best supporting actor,
Who was the precursor of this,
Whose first four letters of his lastname 

referenced the prefix, of the inger-y {injury]

to which he wanted us to Kiss...

and what is this, the 45th?

And what of that drug lord,

who traded weapons for drugs?

and starred in an internal War,

against imposed thugs,

who didn't exist.
We've gone from the silent film era
to a B Movie with a twist,
to a blackploitation flick
And now we're living a reality show
This is the season of remakes
Seems we can't write anything original

We live for retakes, and sequels.

And they keep doing this to us

screwing us,

convincing us that the worst actors,

are a gift from God,

insisting that the worst actors,

get the Oscar nod,

and win by a landslide,

We have already had two cowboys,

a Bonnie and Clyde,

and John Wick,

and don't remiss the porn, 

with the sex toys,

or ole' Tricky Dick.

so grab your popcorn.

cause the plot is about to get thick.

We have already seen this,

On an episode of "The Apprentice,"

I don't want to see it again,

They can't mute the Menace

So instead they fire Flynn.

Then they can continue to decieve

because nobody claims to see,

As he strokes the ego of Putin,

but we can see with our own eyes,

which they tell us not to believe,

but there is no refuting,

We see through his lies,

And his press conferences are 

loaded with cries, of foul,

and social media deferences,

who voted for this child?

Those insane few,

Who dare say to me,  "I know he's racist but..."

BUT WHAT?

What's the basis of knowing,

Unless YOU are racist TOO?

NOW that's your reality showing!

Victori ©

What's In a Name?

My mother once said,
"Don't blame me,
Your daddy gave you that name,
I wanted to name you Dawn,
Like the break of day,"
and so I tried that on,
I placed one foot into the 'what'
of it, and the other into the 'if'
of it, and wore it,
It wore like dew,
on a blade of grass,
It was fresh girl fast,
with a lot of sass,
It was, 'what you say?"
Dawn                                          

It was, 'yes that's my name
use it don't abuse it,'
It was fine girl thick,      
not skinny little me,
It was, if I had that name
I'd be a mono-syllabic chick,
I'd be able to check a dude quick,
I'd be like, "h-e-e-e-y!"
I'd be taller,
and whenever I'd leave the clique,
I'd be like, "yo h-o-ll-a!"
It wasn't a name for the feeble,
It was cool girl cute,
Not like me, cerebral,

Dawn
If I had that name,
I would be heartless,
I wouldn't shed a tear,
Luke Warm would be my partner,
I'd have nothing to do with sorrow,
I'd flip the bird at mourning,
and stay out all night,
never search for tomorrow,
I'd bend over and moon fear,
I'd give the slip,
to all signs and warnings,
and dance with sheer fright,
I'd be as cool as they get
better yet,
to reel me in they'd need a dragnet,
because like the theme, 
from that old show suggest,
Don ta donta, Don ta donta Dawnnnn!

Dawn
Is a bullet proof vest,
and she don't take no mess,
but Dawn's not the name daddy gave me,
He wanted me to have a name of substance,
to be a lady who could face adversity,
to be a lady who'd trial any test,
He wanted me to have a name triumphant,
a name one step ahead of the rest,
he wanted me to be discerning,
and to always try my best,
to be more interested in learning,
than in the next dance step,
He wanted my name to identify me
 and defeat, deceit, fraud, and trickery,
so he gave me an identity,
that would always ensure 
that I'd get that victory!   
                                                 

victori © Sept 12, 2016

Periodic Chart of Elements: Group 18

What is the composition of lovers?
What are they made of?
I can't understand them
the movements of participants in love
is paramount and tandem,
as if they walk on HELIUM 
it's constant but random,
spontaneous and explosive,
at first they walk on eggshells  
seeking intimacy, and closeness.

Then attract and repel
and then they retreat,
to separate corners,
to get out of the heat
that NEON amasses
Like coy foreigners
in citizenship classes,
They collide behind walls
in moments of pleasure, or passion
which can expand into brawls
without significant repulsion or attraction.

Cold shoulders and cold wars
noble infractions like ARGON in action,
they either make-up or break-up
but they indeed decompress,
either by signing the prenupt
or divorcing the stress,
He had to know she was frigid
as KRYPTON when he met her
but still he said, yes
Didn't she know his rules were rigid,
with  a temper like NITROGEN
before she picked out the dress,
but she doesn't want to fight again,
so she lays it to rest.

Then there are those lovers,
who love one another
without pandemonium,
whose love surpasses all others
without malice or odium,
Their eyes radiate like RADON
and they knew from the start,
whenever their eyes meet photons
and electrons ignite in their hearts,
and that's not saying much,
their love also tops the physical charts,
sparks trigger and fire each time that they touch,
and because their love last
these lovers are phenoms
growing longer and stronger, like XENON
each year that goes past
I've concluded lover's are composed of well ... gas!
Maybe I should of paid closer attention in chemistry class.

Victori ©

Mother Tongue

I know where me mammie come from
somewhere that she belong,
riding Atlantic wave,
singing a Guinea song,
walking the hallowed cave 
of her mother tongue,
barefoot from Chad to Brong,
She be ransomed
from the Horn of Alkebulan,
Arabian stash,
taken from Tanzania,
stolen like a bass beat,
breaking through brass,
I know where me mama come from,
somewhere that she belong,
sprouting from alluvial mire
surviving like a beating heart
pounding like a talking drum
tiptoeing over we mother tongue
from Yoruba to Cote D' ivoire
She be kidnapped
from the Bight of Benin
Portuguese cash,
taken to the Caribbean,
sold for sugar cane
whipped into a reggae beat,
gyrating to calypso,
dividing we mother tongue
betweenTrinidad and Tobago
singin' a creole song,
bobbin' for Barbado's

Stepping through the serpentine fire funkin' for Kingston,

In a patois reggae choir

I know where me mammie come from,
somewhere that she belong,
heading to America,
picking cotton in Carolina,
praying to Orisha,
calling him Jesus, divine,
losing we mother tongue,
growing another one,
she be geechee
she gwine.  Victori ©

It's Pretty Plain

I could write it pretty,
or I could write it plain,
but flowers in a meadow
won't describe a mother's pain,
unless I also tell you
that those flowers cover graves,
I can wax all spiritual,
and describe how Jesus saves,
because love is a miracle
when you know how hate depraves.

O I could write it pretty,
or I could write it plain,
but if I write it pretty
then please let me explain,
how those flowers are like medals
given to the slain,
who died without cause,
unjustified, a mother's loss,
with none to ease her pain
and does not condone some
men who unleash their fury
upon other men and become
judge, executioner, and jury
only to be absolved without blame.

I can tell you stories,
or I can tell you truths,
but if I tell you stories,
then there is no excuse
They must begin
He was stricken in his youth,
and they must end
He was taken before his time,
This ain't Aesop's fables,
we need be prayerful, not playful,
This is life, and we are dying,
and death has no reason nor rhyme.

I can make it pretty,
Or I can make it plain,
either way you know who to blame,
I won't name the culprit.
I won't even tell you who,
he could be behind the pulpit
he could be behind the gun,
he could be either black, white, or blue
she could be anyone,
but, His prefix is death
and his suffix is you.
He comes with such a venom 
cause ain't none but vengeance left
cause ain't no Jesus in 'im
cause your soul is his greatest theft
in him there ain't no truth
He wears the disguise of sheep's clothes
as he hides an inner wolf.
He wears your body like a suit,
and convinces you that you chose,
as if a body is bullet-proof,
to kill a man in his youth.

I can say it pretty,
or I can say it plain,
guard your eyes, 
for therein lies your wealth
they're the window pane,
to see it for yourself,
now I can tell you stories,
or I can tell you truths,
but will you hear it?
the media is the proof

Guard your spirit 
We are at war
We are under attack

Need I say more

The powers of the air
want to turn time back
Cause they have so little time left
to finagle, defraud, and prod,
and commit the grandest theft
to convince you, that there is no God,
and that believers are insane
The author of confusion
has but a little time
be not partakers of his collusion,
or accomplices to his crime.


Victori ©

Interrupted

If  I'd have known then,
I'd have kept you talking 'til ten
In the morning,
I wouldn't have let you go,
so quietly into that dark night,
alone.
If I'd have known,
That our line would be interrupted,
By that Divine Operator,
Calling you home,
I would have intervened with a prayer,
"Please Lord take him later."
If I'd have known then,
That we wouldn't have an end,
Like an unfinished song.
That our call would just drop, so abruptly,
To cause both our hearts stop,
Replacing my atrial beat
With dial tone,
And nobody, nobody else worthy
To pick up the phone.
If I had known that summer of 2014
Would be the first and last time,
I'd get to have personally seen,
You and shown
just how my love's grown,
I wouldn't have left you alone,
I'd take your hand,
And never let go,
If I had just known.

Victori7 ©

Unequaled

This election
I'm gonna write in, 
"concerned for my brother"
on the ballot
and if 'love one another,'
isn't a proposition,
then I'm gonna add it
This election 
I'm gonna write in,
if you protect and serve
then do it
step in and defend
be true to it
speak for the unheard
bring abuse to an end
This election
I'm gonna write in,
'It's not you against them,'
It's U.S. we're all in
A M E R I C A
The land of the free,
So be the change
that you want to see,
This election
I'm gonna write in,
'I want to see the hungry fed,'
'every one given shelter,'
'every man have a bed'
and maybe then
we won't have to swelter
through another long hot summer,
without bread,
once again,
This election.
I'm going to scribble in
add how absurd
it is for anyone 
to go hungry
on these amber fields of grain,
above the fruited plain,
so crown thy good,
with brotherhood,
and end their hunger pains,
This election
I'm gonna write in,
take what's great and make it greater,
instead of trying to make it great again,
go to the shelter
and feed the homeless and destitute
educate the young and restless too,
give jobs to the best, and ambitious,
the best of you,
give credence to the auspicious,
give aid to the elders, who
have run short of dreams and wishes,
This election
I'm gonna write in,
'stop killing each other'
stop the violence
stop the tears of grieving mother's
break the silence,
and on that note,
get out and vote,
This election
I'm gonna vote 
"We the people,"
for president
set a precedent
unequaled.

Victori ©