RHYTHM AND RHYME
Often times it seems to me,
That others do not often see,
Poetic licence has it's place from time to time.
Often they will mark some off,
And mayhap give a little cough,
When for flavor I will use it in my rhymes.
They think sometimes that I can't spell,
And often they are wont to tell,
That they think my rhyme and rhythm's off a bit;
But it depends on where you're from,
How the count in words will come,
For dialect has much control of it.
How the word itself's pronounced,
Gives it measure, gives it bounce,
And the rhyme and rhythm will come to;
So figure on who wrote it,
And the accent there will show it,
Does have rhyme and count and rhythm will ensue.
Judy Ball
No offense to anyone. I wrote this a long time ago. Not complaining about anything,
just writing a rhyme and pointing out a truism too.
Hope y'all like it.
If Only Life Was Like a Parking Meter
By Elton Camp
When time on the parking meter grows shorter,
We can keep it going by putting another quarter
That means with a minimal amount of attention
We can maintain an indefinite time extension
But there is nothing simple like this so that we can
Nearly so quickly and easily add to our life span
Age or accidents play their part and it is required
That the red tag will arise and our time has expired
(To see an interesting picture that goes with this poem,
please go to http://www.scribd.com/doc/53309284/If-Only-Life-Was-Like-a-Parking-
Meter )
Sing little bird, my little bird
Sing your song, to thine ear;
Sing high or sing low.
Just sing to me of long ago;
Of the time you’ve seen,
The time when Art did bloom;
In the rivers or in the streams
In the dawn or in the dusk
Just sing little bird, sing to us!
I was slowly drifting nowhere; this side of bump and grind
While all the time I noticed, myself I couldn’t find
And as I floated like some driftwood; on this rivers tributary;
I desperately was reaching out, for perhaps one last Hail Mary;
Then coming from the rivers bank, was a song I can’t repeat
And all the birds were keeping time, by shuffling their feet
So I paddled towards the tree line, to escape the summer’s heat;
And I noticed they were keeping time, to some unknown beat
So I twisted and I tangoed and at midnight I did waltz
And I revived the faint of heart, with some smelling salts
So I step now with direction, but sometimes I’m adrift
And I wonder will I ever know, about the things I missed
The thing that I now realize, as I’m coming round the bend;
Is the people that I’m thinking of are the ones who were my friends
And if my time should run out, and it seems I’m lost again
I’m hoping I might have the chance, to try it all again.
I remember how it was,
the first time
I got into the ring,
with a more experienced boxer,
I hadn't a clue,
of what to do.
Pummeled from one side
to the other,I took
the loss, licked my
wounds and understood
where I went wrong.
With a few simple moves,
slip a punch here,
counter there,
I was beaten occasionally
but never badly and
I understood clearly
the reasons when I lost.
In the ring of life
and emotions,
I am continually sucker punched,
the original
rope a dope,
half the time
on my back,
I never see it coming.
I keep climbing back in
without a clue
of what to do.
in our measure of time
there are curious circles filling our days,
numbered moments marked by the scars of transiting lights,
heavens moguls of tribulation 'n plight,
that give or take away --
the indifference of time that measures man,
in cycles round 'bout heavens span,
meted out in lines that grid the world
in constant sorrow, Saturn stuttered,
disappearing today in some further loss of tomorrow,
yet we also know that ticking clocks in circles go,
'til time enough for love is lost to reasons chains and at what cost;
the God of Time in cycles go, around, about, a-circling slow, fast re-turned,
they come, they go, there's time enough for love you know.
though I spend my time,
scanning the horizon with my mind's eye,
seeking the curve of her Venus belt,
a circumference of sunset reds spanning the sky, she is on the face of it,
a timeless piece, a swinging pendulum of rhythms sway,
a clock that circumscribes my day,
and in the sanctity of the night, rolling
on a sweat-slippery field of red-ocher bliss and
kissing with the same kiss, it's just then
as I watch her rest,
time stops
and takes my breath away
The force, the pressure
To become something great
Is beginning to penetrate
Agitate my complacency & prepare for war.
I am a complex photograph
Telegraph a message & maybe I'll respond
Bless you with my awkward silence.
Forget the violins & pay attention to my sobbing
Robbing myself time & time again
Never knowing love
I find myself crippled, broken & undone.
Under a blazing
sun
we march up the mountain
Weary, we pause and
take deep breathes
fill our lungs with the mountain
air
It's a long climb
We have been thinking
for some time
about making this climb
We dig deeply into
ourselves
and continue onwards
Our legs
are tired
but bright spirits
that we are
we will not give in!
We are moving up
towards the heavens
Towards the goal
we know
to be our own
Birds flying above
gaze down on us
What do they think of our poor earthbound
selves?
It's so quiet here
Taking in nature's stark beauty
we make our ascent
and head up to the peak
Doesn't seem like
we will ever want
to descend
Yet all journeys come
to an end
After the peak has
been reached
It will be time to
head home
Where welcoming smiles
and outstretched arms
await
O a long, long time ago
The rats came to town
In business suits and leather case
And parents prattling at their dish.
O a long, long time ago
The rats ate the cornfield down
And stalks stood in a desolate waste
And town was left to hold a wish.
O a long, long time ago
The children heard the fife
And left to play before the snow
Before the beginning of their ending life.
O today, today the piper
Stands alone, and the river of tears
Just grow deeper, and deeper
With the misery of the years.
twas the night before Obamaness
and all throught the house
not a creature was stiring
not even a mouse
all the democrats crept to their beds
hopping that tomarrow they'd have
a brand new head
all the republicans will scramble late into the night
for sure their going down, but not without a fight
all the independants still in shock and awe
still pondering questions about who should make the laws
rarely has a voting booth given time to great pause
never in our life time has there been so great a cause
tis the eve before election
and we look for those who will make the selection
is it the man with the clearly best argument
or is it the way their lives were spent
go joe biden, go bill clinten, go clair and colin
lead us to a better day, bright clear and golden
go american citizen with determination and heart
go give our country a brand new start
i wish Tim Russart were here to see this very day
He probably already knows what will happen
election day