Schemer

So what if it hurts me?
You carelessly dancing with the Sun...
Mired deeply in your belicose attitude...
Feeling no remorse of what you have done.

Much as a Basilisk slightly hidden in the tropics...
Whose lethal breath and glance completely destroys...!
Your persona 'tis inflamed with a choleric attitude...
You-who-are so easily annoyed.

So what if it hurts me?
As fear deliquesces my weary soul...
Tormented beyond the pale-Master of no remorse...
Much needed comaraderie should instead be your goal.

Your diaphanous persona has broken my being...
All stuck in a bourgeous cow trodden town...
We are searching for euphonious tones this day...
While your existentialism makes you responsible for schemes we found.

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Driven

I cannot escape this road i live on~
The traffic runs both ways-
Trying simply to cross it-
Only adds more confusion to my days...

It is the same inside of my place~
Trying to choose a condiment that is clean! ! !
Choices of catsup, mustard or mayo-
Are not always- -what they seem! ! !

Laundry detergent smells and makes skin raw~
Wonder about the tooth paste as well-
And what of the creams and bath salts?
It is really too soon to tell! ! !

For it seems a 'gold fever' team, if you will~
Partnered up for a trip 'cross the line-

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Creepy-The Sitting Duck!

So much has been exposed ALREADY-
So many players have been named...! ! !
And your publicity-even though bad-has spotlighted you...! ! !
Into the possible perp of 'Criminal Fame';

To say that you and yours are the number 1 suspects...
On a list near a full page long...
Would be an understatement...
But you continue-to write about doing wrong;

With your oft' hidden intimidating threats...
That are so easily caught...! ! !
It doesn't take a Criminal Profiler...
To see what you are STILL all about! ;

But in your little cruel life...! ! !
You prpbably say-what the hey...
My wife left and had an abortion to boot...
So i might as well spread the misery 'round this day! ! ! ;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Damage Control (From his mouth to Gods ears)

Its an utter break down of words-
Thrown out by a speed influenced mind-
He fancies himself as a master mentor...
While he dishes backhanded threats unkind;

The mentor says no to the Poo Poo platter...
As this teacher is an anal-retentive find-
Cosmic laws do not govern his massive 'EGO'-
While he enforces ties that bind;

Picking the wings off of butterflies-his pass time-
Though vowing that none are ever hurt...!
He's greed infested from the early 1970's...
Seeds of ill repute sprout from his old dirt;

The mentor speaks of God and blesses many-
And includes Christs teachings in his 'ALL'
But the mentor is a two-faced hypocrite-
Filled in his gut with bitter gall;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Up For Debate?

Listening to that ole' Mississippi beat
And lookin' for clever converstaion-i take a look
So many issues at hand to debate
Surely enough to publish a little ole' book;
I found him in the corner hunched over
Drinkin' his Jack Daniels straight
Talkin' 'bout his Cobalt Blue Chev pickup
Not much at all to debate;
His closely cropped hair's red and white stood out
But his mostly white beard was gone
Same ole' large belly just hanging over his belt
Talkin' 'bout bein' up to no wrong! ;
Talkin' 'bout how he watched her closely!
Parked 'cross from her home for only a moment yesterday
How he wrote about her constantly
And got no where to his utter dismay! ;
'I dream about her constantly'
'When i'm awake she is forever on my mind'
I open my eyes wide to search
It is her sweet face that i find;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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C.B.***2 Wit

..........................He's In The House........................
................ .....In The Attic Frozen Still.................
................Only Moves When He Has To...........
................Waiting To Get His Nasty Fill...........
...............I Hear Him From Time To Time........
............When The Cold Cracks His Base........
............And He Tries To Move His Arms.........
........................Just To Feel His Face.................
..And When We Are All In Bed Slumbering....
..........The Ghost-He Slinks Down The Stairs...
...............Pillages Our Kitchen For Food..............
..................Robbing Our Cupboards Bare................
.....................Some times He Leaves..........................
............. .......Out The Patio Door, He Goes...............
...................But Leaves The Stick Out In View..........
.........................Just To Let Us Know...........................
.............. ......Its Harder For Him Now...........................
.....As The Bay Door Is Tighter Than Leather..........
........But He Manages To Still Slink Around..............
.............To Meet With His Birds of A Feather............

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Your Shallow Heart

There is so much that you do not know-
So much that has been left unsaid...
The temporary misery that you showed...
Was all contrived in your scheming head;

Spoken out of fear not of sorrow-
Your heart 'tis shallow in its contents...!
While you seem to be breathing sighs of relief...
Others feelings are growing much more intense;

Knowing all about you and another few...
Came as a shock and horrible surprise...
Having your name pointed out-
As a player of lies and disguise;

Tell you-it just broke my heart-
And its now nearly cracked into-
You are just another game player-
Another cook in the greed inspired stew;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Covering Up Your Tracks

Your footprints-oh they match!
All the tell-tale signs are very clear-
ALL the dirt has been dug up--
And the proof is in the pudding-i hear;

Coming from the oceans of yesterday--
And the Steamship S.S. Bernardo of before--
Mary-she had a little Lamb...
Who wanted-oh so much more;

S.S. plotted and planned voraciously-
With his German doc pal who excelled in dirt-
Doc and S.S.-oh how they worked it...
Spreading all the doom and gloom of hurt;

Emily the Proud Big Bird was their target-
As was her father-most dear-
They were part of a Brass Ring Merry-Go-Round...
'1978' was never quite so clear;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Dark Days

Corruption in the system just grows-
So many now turning their heads...
So many becoming ostriches! ! !
So many not heeding truths said;

So many heinous crimes on humanity...
All in the name of the almighty greed...
Too many with habits that control them...
Too many turned viscious from Speed;

Cruelty and deviant behavior...
Arrogantly flaunts itself around...
Victims in all walks of life preyed upon...
By Predators that are surely Hell bound;

Too complacent this World has become...!
Where God was once: The Word! ! !
Now Satan seems to have the upper hand...
And Gods commandments simply go unheard;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Ecology Forgotten?

So still 'tis this city...
While factories pour out their silent smoke into the air...
They are the true Dragons of this metro...
Moving while the populous 'tis sleeping unaware! ;

They throw out their pollution into our enviroment...
The vapors skip and float 'round this town...
'Tis in the name of progress they let go of the pollutents...
Ecology finds it abhorant and unsound;

Where once the tender vegetation grew evergreen--
In the parks where pristine lakes used to be...
A fountain 'tis all but dried up with hazardous waste-
As my pen to paper writes words into visuals you can see;

A statue of an Angel overlooks this city...
A Guardian with an Eternal Smile...
In a town without pity-the smog it suffocates-black and gritty-
And our green gardens are put out of style;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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