The New Normal Initiation Jive: Tirtinska

THE NEW NORMAL INITIATION JIVE

From the blast off let’s be frank. Truth? One on one, get me.
Mouths taped, wrists and ankles constrained, thought an addendum.
Mesmerizing rhythm its own brazen momentum.
Sparse scripts hammered out on an ancient Olivetti.

Coded hints tease and beckon, esoteric symbols.
Old wives’ tales whispered of “unfolding, unravelling …
attaining the third degree … levels within levels”
An underlying imagery of travelling.
Arrivers: holy vessels or incarnate devils?

Sparse scripts hammered out on an ancient Olivetti.
Mesmerizing rhythm its own brazen momentum.
Mouths taped, wrists and ankles constrained, thought an addendum.
From the blast off let’s be frank. Truth? One on one, get me.

Unmasked

UNMASKED

Not until they wake
Does the sleeper realise
They have been asleep

Let’s Not Mince Words: Double shadorma

LET’S NOT MINCE WORDS

Those there are
Who voice their concern
That global
Media
In their view has lost its way
But I disagree

Lost its way?
Overly polite
Media
Was in fact
Lured up a dark alleyway
And brutally raped

The Ecology Student

THE ECOLOGY STUDENT

Always eats alone
And keeps her own company

Her head in a book
Even in the dining hall

Their whispered nickname
“The Academia Nut”

Oh yes, she’s heard it
But you don’t let on of course

Dignified silence
A study in deepest blue

Mindless cruelty
She fingers her hidden scars

Stained with history
Like the poor planet itself

Joyful Herald: Shadorma

JOYFUL HERALD

Loves to dance
Not as a display
Craving for
Attention
Or the adrenalin rush
No, simply express

Nothing

NOTHING

We shall have nothing
Until we learn to share it
With our sleeping selves

The Writer: Tirtinska

THE WRITER

Oodled in through the swing doors his literary mind
A few steps behind his limp fedora, cheap cigar.
The tearoom loungers dressed to the nines and la-di-da
Surveyed with frank disdain, took him in, defined, declined.

Scans them back. “Red angry pustules from a dose of clap.”
Thoughts laced with meander juice. “Know what I’m doing.”
(The story teller’s stock reflex on spotting a trap.)
“I can do this … No probs. I know the way out. Chewing.”
Orders coffee, two week old doughnuts, a cheesy wrap.

Ladies discretely confer deeming themselves refined.
“A dotty old grandpa. Hardly my cup of tea, dear.
What’s he doing? Pulling out a pen and notebook. Ah!
That’s it then. All’s forgiven. And not a bad behind.”

On A Brighter Note …

ON A BRIGHTER NOTE …

You are being
lied to and
indoctrinated
day after day.

Being expected
to conform to
unquestionable
empty rituals.

But at least
on a brighter note
there isn’t
a deadly virus.

Back To the Track, Jack

BACK TO THE TRACK, JACK

For easy balance
No need to go to extremes
Walk a wide tightrope

…..
…..

CHOO CHOO CH’BOOGIE – Vaughn Horton, Denver Darling, and Milt Gabler.

Headin’ for the station with a pack on my back
I’m tired of transportation in the back of a hack
I love to hear the rhythm of the clickety-clack
And hear the lonesome whistle, see the smoke from the stack
And pal around with democratic fellas named Mac
So take me right back to the track, Jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo ch’boogie
Woo-woo, woo-woo ch’boogie
Choo-choo, choo-choo ch’boogie
Take me right back to the track, Jack

You reach your destination, but alas and alack
You need some compensation to get back in the black
You take a morning paper from the top of the stack
And read the situations from the front to the back
The only job that’s open needs a man with a knack
So put it right back in the rack, Jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo ch’boogie
Woo-woo, woo-woo ch’boogie
Choo-choo, choo-choo ch’boogie
Take me right back to the track, Jack

Gonna settle down by the railroad track
Live the life of Riley in the beaten down shack
So when I hear a whistle, I can peep through the crack
And watch the train a-rollin’ when it’s ballin’ the jack
Well, I just love the rhythm of the clickety-clack
So take me right back to the track, Jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo ch’boogie
Woo-woo, woo-woo ch’boogie
Choo-choo, choo-choo ch’boogie
Take me right back to the track, Jack

Take me right back to the track, Jack

Off The Map

OFF THE MAP

Searching for true love?
Perhaps out there’s not the best
Place to go looking