The Domed Teapot Movie Team stores
good running electrical engineering supplies for
the apprentice vape tester stationed
for training with other code guy
system connectors near the
erectifying rainbow falls of
Mr. Mojo's Old City
WHEREAS(S)
the Eccentric Frontier Goldmine Foundation State has
discovered a recent reference model indicating that
the Eclectic Ghoul Aid Company has failed the
combined skating/scooter/car/bike and
forest river vehicle acid test (though they
did oddly OVER_perform with
dirty toothbrushes while on
motorcycles)
ALL OF WITCH LEAVES US WITH
an Elected Peach Boutique Box Collection of
shadow games and chic cottage band
energies perfectly suited to the
Enneagram Test Cook's home decor
NUT TO MENTION (MUNCH ON?)
the elliptically concentric doctor of the
Goon Power Kingdom where
mad duke predicament bosses are
obsessed with my contraption wheel
drop way of UNDER_thinking the
biased fallacy of self-data camera
set collectors viewing the erect or
oral bored college process that
involves repairing old farts for
recyling at flea markets.
Hey, never mind the hundred thousand folks
you'd have to keep for decades in the dark -
the sub-contractors, cleaners, office clerks.
Hey, never mind the billions such a hoax
would cost (to really go there works out cheaper!)
Don't give a thought to scammers, media whores,
and all those earnest, honest whistle-blowers,
who gagged to play heroic brother's-keepers
and get on Charlie Rose. Don't tax your wits
by wondering how a monumental lie
could hope to last, or even wonder why
someone would want to try it. Think of this.
In early summer, nineteen sixty-nine,
the Soviet Union hated Uncle Sam.
If there had been a smidgeon of a scam,
the Russians would have formed a clamoring line
of hackers, trackers, eggheads and the rest
to tell the waiting world, "it isn't so!
Our satellites confirm, they didn't go!"
But they said nothing. There's your acid test.
Question everything.
Reality is slipperier
Than you might think.
Here, here
Have a drink of some electric Kool Aid
With me. Then, tell me what you think.
While our minds are free to explore
Reasoning and understanding goes
Right out the door and
Weird able too see
Why everything seems so basic.
Life is meant to be fun.
Slipperiness is seeing the world questioning everything, everyone and
Don't be so shocked at what you just might see.
Especially, with me.
A little spark. A work of art.
She lit the dark and filled my heart.
Around I turned to feel the burn.
There she lies. I’ll never learn.
She huffed and puffed and blew me down.
I was amazed at what I’d found.
She drifted high above the rest
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little prick under the skin.
It’s quite the trick how she snuck in.
Then through the vein up to the brain
The little things drove me insane.
She soothed and smoothed my troubled brow.
She calmed my nerves, I don’t know how.
She laid me down. I felt so blessed.
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little sign. A dream defined.
I drew the line there in my mind.
Then, unaware, without a care
I breathed her in like so much air.
She revved me up and sped my pulse.
Somehow, some way she got results.
I must admit, she did impress
But didn’t pass the acid test.
Long for the tender tormenting touch of her slips, a vermillion vice of the abyssal depths that lay within the merest brush of her breath, a zephyr's caress that set aflame the parched arid landscapes of my wasteland as sighs hollow echoes whispered promises grew, the inferno of my longing raged, a maelstrom of need that threatened to consume all reason, all restraint in the swirling crimson vortex of those velvets, the boundaries of our recurrent reality grew tenuous, and the tyranny of the flesh held sway as the flexuous uncharted curves of your caress became the acid test of my resolve, dissolving the fragile, varnished veneer of self control, as the confinement of thy desires began to dissolve like gossamer under the scorching waxen sun of ardent, copious passion.
As we entwined, visceral privilege awoke, like hydras flourishing in some foresworn elixir, every casual respite yawned vacant, sucked into the vampiric vortices of intolerably testy discontent.
How provoking, this postponement of unbound reciprocity, tongue just grazing the tips of those plush velvet onyx lips, while catalyzing inveigling suspense
eugen schwab don't blab..!!
fat chance; that checkers dont cheat.'
Facts stand, acid test.!
Tithes and offering
Are acid test to all men
Blessing truly seen.
To escape from further quarantine
To escape from further boredom
To escape from further Nucleic Acid Test
People prefer domestic travel
Instead of foreign travel
People believe
Less risk more joy
With SOP they will be safe
Although the sun, the sceneries
And the people they meet
Are the same
But they look a bit different
Because of long absence
And the glory of God is warmer
Because of survival being heartily granted
Once and forever
I
I may share my love for Jesus and Bible - in vain
The practice is its own reward: His Word is everything
From Gauge, Level, Voltage and Testing Machine -
For philosophies, hermeneutics, gymnastics, gyrating -
The Acid test of Scripture: if it's not there, I'm passing ...
II
Look "up" is a general point, you may generally take from me
But I challenge you, "UP" one day "down" another way
If one points at the sky, while the Earth spins, where's "up" really?
Still, looking at sky, stars and more at night, is serious PLAY
Looking beyond the garbage on level ground, ether beckons U & me
III
Then again, "looking up" is well-deployed to uplift one's spirit
There's something magical when we shift gazing at people, to trees
And higher - be they clouds, falling snow, even hail, or - satellite
More and more CREEPING STARS I see up there, satellites they be!
Still, I say look up - it works wonders - no matter what bothers me
The children bask in Mom’s sincerest praise.
Her love and nurturance bring out their best,
but bids for Dad’s attention seldom faze
this cold, distracted man. He’s richly blessed
but seems to have in mind some acid test
no kid could pass! These teens begin to stray,
but not far from the path. Dad starts to pray,
“Forgive my failings, Lord. Please help me mend
the rift and guide them from the worldly fray.
Don’t let my efforts be lost to the wind.”
August 5, 2020
Contest Title: Pick-a-Title--Vol 26, Dizain placed 3rd
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Until you truly answer the question,
“Why do I write poetry”
You’ll never really wed the verse,
—your copyright estranged
(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)
There are times my spirit
And my body would quarrel
And my spirit would sue for a divorce
But now, they still remain
On the precipice of time
On the slippery values of life
Time, a circadian surgeon
And the acid test of values
There is nothing more I see
Than the beauty of ugliness
The love in putrefactions
The life in bitter herbs
In dust and decay
As I celebrate my birth
From the womb to the tomb
I pray when this conjugation
Of body and spirit collapses
May there be rain to wash off
The dust and the bitterness
May sunlight rise on a new
Tendril of life
Get ready for a challenge. Why?
'cause poetry and dares make me high!
So—you think you’re the best?
I bet you think “I’m a poet and didn’t know it”
will pass my acid test.
I gotta pause right here and yell—
in your face—“L O L”!
Gimme your best sonnet.
I may slap a D-minus on it.
Wait’ll you see mine.
They’re smooth and oh-so-fine.
Toss me a triolet.
Think I’m gonna be wowed with your wit?
I’ll go on and betcha
mine’s gonna be bettah.
Gimme your most rousing rondeau.
I may be your worst foe,
'cause I already know
yours won’t come close
to mine. Think I’m verbose,
don’tcha? Well, I gotta admit
as in my rocker I sit
writin’ this invite to a poetry duel,
never thought I’d have the fuel
to be so crass and cruel
as to dis any fellow poet.
Still, I CHALLENGE YOU. Don’t blow it!
May 16, 2018, entered in Nick Trim's 8 Mile Style Rap Contest
Placed 8th (of 10)
April 8, 2019, entered in Anthony Slausin's Your Amphetamine Contest
Hush, my dear mother, say no more
(Shut up your criticizing, out the door)
I know you love me, want my best,
(You’re putting my temper to an acid test)
I’m trying Jenny Craig, I know I’ll win
(Your suggestions are tantamount to starvation sin!)
Hush, my dear mother, say no more.
Acid Test
Each step of mine for me is an acid test
One step I take forward they come and ask my caste
Two steps backward I run
And reach to the skirt of a beautiful village
With all the curiosities in their eyes men and women
Like a platoon of army they surround me
And inquire the sect along with my religion
Disheartened I walk
And unintentionally cross into a district
There I meet on a down town street
A wave of crowd, a pack of wolves
A gang of touts and a hive of bees
Before I take my breath in
I am grilled and asked quite fast the place of my origin
Bitterly I tell them what sweet sound holds my real name
They suspect and I have no doubt
The colour of my eye balls gives them goose bums
So I quietly tell them the root of my clan
They appear and I see clearly
The hint they give is clear that they are not glad
Disgusted I feel and before I decide to move
I yell I shout
And tell you to tell them
I am also from the same race of you, man!
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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.