Written: September 29, 2025, for contest sponsored by Tom Wood
***********
I) Sojourn of the Alabaster Mind
I careen through a world of chatoyant light,
Each step is a mirror of halcyon lore.
The pavonine sky and a chimera flight,
Projects sage shadows on an Elysian shore.
A clamor of atlas, a ductile tickle
Elixir of wonder, still need to fickle—
To pursue the penumbra, to not be blind,
And a sojourn for the alabaster mind.
II) The Necrotic Hour
I maunder across the clangor of despair,
A stertorous breath in the stygian gloom.
No nepenthe soothes within egregious snare,
Each cough is a pyrrhic echo in my room.
The airhead mocks my once-mellifluous breath
My Oculus dims in sudden fever death.
No eloquence lives in this loathsome abyss—
My nemesis: the sickness can't be sheer bliss.
So, stranded on Framingham Turnpike,
I walked from the corpse of my Vette
(Unsure just what gasoline burns like),
as far as my high heels could get.
The tow trucker guy got my blood up,
his big chest all covered in hair.
He wordlessly lifted the hood up,
and studied the engine with care.
I’d let the poor pistons get wet, or
my battery somehow went flat?
He said, “Crap in the damn carburetor.”
“How often, dude, must I do that?”
Our land of stars and stripes, now glows,
with screens that flicker in hallowed halls.
Entranced humans shuffle, with eyes fixed below,
on small gadgets that have us enthralled.
Should the Statue of Liberty, our symbolic girl,
be holding a smartphone up to the world?
While tweets fly like eagles and hashtags swirl,
foreign disinformation trends as fast as it’s purled.
In lunch halls, real conversations take rest,
as influence is sought—in hoity-toity, binary quest.
Friends are backdrops—originality in short supply
as likes and shares make our dopamine fly.
America’s zombies, though *********** drained,
shuffle endlessly on, with Wi-Fi stimulated brains.
Once the land of the free, we’re now the land of tech
with minds wrecked by truths unchecked.
As we rock and sway—the new robot way—
will our old, analog-republic simply fade away?
.
.
Songs for this:
Airhead by Thomas Dolby
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December:
daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_01.mp3
Patty Lou said hello, I am cuckoo
then she giggled like it was a joke
I did not know what to make of her
my strategy was to avoid her
but we were on a bus trip
one night we were the only ones awake
we had a lovely chat for hours
my husband says I am nutty, she said.
I think you are pretty well-balanced I told her.
but she insisted she was a brainless airhead.
Her husband woke up and patted her hand.
He had a huge smile, I guess they liked thinking that.
Deep fried
she cried
then bloat
and float
A house
stained blouse
clueless
for stress,
To bed,
airhead!
"Forgot"!
you brought
you phoned
you're stoned,
she’s slow
cracked crow,
clears throat
like goat,
Nancy
can't see
funky,
junky,
go back
sad sack
drink rum
you bum,
and then
find men.
my mom is not an airhead
cause shes enrolled in premed
and when i am ill
i get a green a pill
thats why i am not lowbred.
I am a nerd/geek through and through,
my past time is seeing how something
works.
What really gets me going is numbers
and equations.
My nick name was little Einstein, I really
loved science.
I was the loner and math tutor after school.
Tutoring gave me the chance to socialize
and come out of my shell.
I enjoyed it until I had to tutor the captain
of our football team.
He was arrogant and he had the brains
of a kid in kindergarten.
And I was head over heels infatuated with
him.
Once we got over our stereotypes of each
other, we became fast friends.
He was actually smart and played the role
of an airhead.
When our walls came crashing down it was
a mutual attraction and respect.
I’m still pinching myself, who would have
thought the nerd and the captain(football)
would be together.
Yours truly,
Mrs Nerd
Alexis Y.
03-6-2020
1 ALCOHOL AND POETRY
When I join these two elements together I inebriate
further easily ...
2 AIRHEAD
airhead is a difficult person to deal with, especially
because usually he doesn't realize what he wants
of life...
3 PROFIT DISTURBANCE
Too much lucidity, makes you suffer, makes you cry ... lucidity in this crazy life
in which we live, the illusion is finer ...
4 COMPLIANT
Everything has a limit, occasionally just losing even the
stirrups for order in the mess ...
5 YOU ARE MUSIC ...
Your tone is too loud and your music I can't
sing...
CRAZY total
NUTCASE what
were you THINKING
do you
THINK at ALL?
airhead DREAMER
GET YOUR ACT
together, tell me are you
effing under the
WEATHER?
retard!
|||
|
|
Words hurt
They do
If I am nice
Will you be too?
Words kill
They do
If i am gentle
Can you please be too?
***
February 12, 2017
Poem by Darren White
Poetrysoup Footles
1. Reading a Poem When Drunk
Triplet
Couplet
2. Crown for the Queen of Poetry
Sonnet
Bonnet
3. On the ‘I Do Not Know’ Poet
Pasted
Wasted
4. The Lazy Poet’s Perfect Form
Idle
Idyll
5. A Troublesome Poem
Tanka
Rankler
6. Airhead Girl Who Writes Poetry
Kimo
Bimbo
For Footle Contest: Sponsor, Tim Hicks
6 March 2016
My Most Embarrassing Moment?
Twice I’ve entered freeways
On the ramps meant just for exits.
Lordy! How embarrassing is that?
Except nobody knew me
And with little difficulty
I remedied those situations fast!
Twice or thrice I walked into
Restrooms meant for men.
But no one saw me, or, once again,
Nobody knew me.
I got off lucky.
But there was one time
I did it at a pool.
Without my contacts in,
I might as well have just been blind.
I think the guy I walked in on was naked then.
But he did not know me (Saved again!)
Another time, at age fourteen,
I hopped around the yard, a silly teen
Sitting on a big fat ball -
Called Hippity Hop. I took a fall
In front of my new boyfriend.
I split my pants; he didn’t even tell me,
But once I learned what I had done,
That ended our romance!
I ‘m sure I pulled more stunts than that
Through all my years of school.
But being such an airhead
I simply have to say,
My most embarrassing moment -
Whatever it may be -
I don’t recall it anyway!
I am not an airhead.
My thoughts are sponges made of lead.
They swell inside my mind, behind my zoned-out eyes,
And shield me from your cutting lies.
Although I should apologize,
As your mind is clearly filled with flies.
Since you cannot hold a thought longer than your breath,
You speak with a distinct lack of depth.
You see, I am not brain dead.
My words are thought before they're said.
The " Airhead " Spaceship was starting .
The Astronaut " Bimbo " departing .
She really looked cute
In her skin-tight space suit .
A definite no-no , was farting .
Inspired by Carolyn's ; out of this world , limerick contest ..
your beauty astounds me
everytime you enter a room
my breath is stolen away again
you thief of my heart
how I pray you never
give it back
in the background I stay
waiting for my moment
you see me
but don't
I know you think I'm just another
thoughtless airhead who doesn't
give a damn
but I know what goes on
under that sweet smile
I know how your heart
aches every day
how you smile through every
heartbreak
how you laugh through every
inner sob
beauty through pain
strength through hardship
I'll love you
no matter what
and always hold you close
in my heart
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