Once the ritual words were uttered
And the two men spat in their palms and shook hands
Then the pact was sealed as witnessed by those around
How such a silly contrivance made something binding made her head spin
Once the ritual words were uttered
And the two men spat in their palms and shook hands
Then the pact was sealed as witnessed by those around
How such a silly contrivance made something binding made her head spin
Finding men talking about her curves all the time was quite tiresome
It made her wish they were a little less… conical
Geometrical arguments be what they may, the boys never added things up correctly
Underestimating her desire to derive their equations
Relying on a vanishingly small probability that she would be impressed by the results
Especially since their plots would undoubtedly be too small and dreadfully unenlightening
All the queen’s men stood tall; heads bowed low
Giving respect for the pine box being carried between them
Every eye was dry, but their hearts wept with each beat
Nothing was more important than being there to respect their fallen comrade
Then they would go out into the world and exact revenge
Every thrust of his hips was planned to showcase his nature
Leaving girls and women screaming at the top of their lungs
Vexing the men that had accompanied them, secretly jealous of his powers
It was a coming of age for an entire generation
Summarized in a single man, an icon, a legend
When the hands swept past noon
All eyes were drawn to the two men standing in the street
Today only one of them would walk away
Capping a monumental story of conflict between two protagonists
High above, the bells chimed out, punctuated by two percussive blasts, and then dead silence
Boy could those men tell you stories amid the smell of talc and aftershave
About times in the past that people have forgotten
Remembering with such clarity the neighborhood throughout time
Because they had been there for a combined hundred-sixty years
Everyone came there to sit in those ancient green chairs and listen raptly
Relishing their experience with those historians. The haircuts weren’t too bad either.
So many options to pick from, Dan pondered his choices
High tops, cowboy boots, moccasins, loafers
Or sandals, flip-flops, or maybe his purple Crocs
Eveline slipped on her sensible clack flats and left.
She wasn’t going to be late to the party. Men!
Stabbing light slashed down from stone-gray clouds
The weather perfectly fit Patty’s mood as fat raindrops ravaged the arid soil
Outside nature threw one of her best temper tantrums
Reminding Patty of her last relationship when she finally broke it off
Men could be such whiners
Charging down the finishing straight
Yellow jersey amongst the cacophony of colors
Creating a chaotic dance of machines and men
Looking to master the course and each other
Every eye eventually bending towards the end in Paris
Little plastic worlds
Emerging brick by brick
Giving children such satisfaction
Or grown men in this particular case
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/l6961Q5_Db0/hqdefault.jpg
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Story world