“The darkened sky stole my tears,”
as morning sunshine disappears.
Today's her birthday- ninety years
and rainy weather interferes.
She loves the outdoors- wild frontiers.
In early times, with pioneers,
she traveled far with two careers.
But now, those days are souvenirs.
She has two friends- each one adheres
to lifestyles spent in outdoor spheres.
And now I pray, as fun time nears,
the sun will shine as the sky clears.
The darkened sky stirred up my fears-
I now see sunlight in arrears!
The sound of voices fills my ears-
as she arrives, all clap with cheers!
Asleep not, my muse begins to trot,
Evoking whispers of willow
In my memorial mirage.
Asleep not, my concern is hot.
It has nothing to pillow
But your cold corsage.
Solely awake solely in wait
Whether affectional arrears
Find the atonement too late
To recoup your stray tears.
Half desirous half in despair
How my wistful heart dithers
When into thin air
Years of attendance withers.
If a problem disappears, is its solution still viewed in arrears
Please reference John Lawless' Monoku,
'A Problem's Problem,' Sept. 21, 2024.
Feeling a little cross
I gave out to god
For piling different shapes
upon my hod
To think, we never had
any future plan
So made one up
with the home insurance man
Anyway, I'm covered
for a sudden leak
But excess is high
and outlook pretty bleak
With water damage
undermining my eyes
Canopies atop
fail to keep me baptised
In a world slowly spinning
time arcs from view
I lose my line of sight
as payment's accrue
My policy reneges
states I'm in arrears
Offers me (a one off fix)
then disappears
Like most chancers in life
I accept the lump
My hod full of shapes
forming a concave hump
Light recedes slower
through an inverted mind
Come take a look
I'm not the one praying blind
Still, I could sit with Jesus
and chat all day
Til our questions
compel each other away
Faster than light speed
(dark energy) recedes
To voids so distant
god awful truth precedes
Vanishing points converge
as minds can't make sense
Mine's light years away
nailed to a cosmic fence
Insurance man tries
to sell me empty space
He's the devil
I bought it all just in case!
Seems nothing much changes
when you look out from vestibules;
The grass always looks greener
if the rich ones make all the rules.
You can walk many miles,
moving far from your precious youth,
Yet those men won't tell you
if you will ever find the truth.
Signs on the avenue
try to tell you which way to go
And yet it's always hard
when the arrow can't find the bow.
Even prints in the sand
will someday be washed out to sea;
Some may say they've been lost
while others swear they've been set free.
Age is just memory
that has carried you through the years,
Might serve you in good times
or leave you knee deep in arrears.
Daily dues will accrue,
each penny is to be repaid,
While all the plans of man
will not be accepted in trade.
When it comes to move
take only what it is you'll need;
Leave the baggage behind,
there's no need for the weight of greed.
Keep the contacts at hand,
those of your relatives and friends;
They are the keys of life
upon which your freedom depends.
They scoff at us Jews for our traditions
the myriad laws and restrictions
Never mixing milk and meat
watching every bite we eat
No wearing garments of mixed materials
not even on our ‘interiors’
Never planting mixed seeds, and
for our cattle no non-kosher feed
Letting the land lie fallow every seven years
no matter some accounts in arrears…
Yet these traditions ensure ecological balance
which our Rabbis safeguard with Talmudic talent
That which I greatly feared now stands before me,
The mere conjuring of my mind transformed into reality.
Allies of death, attuned to my weaknesses,
Their creativity thrives in my nervous, artistic distress.
I close my eyes momentarily, a cold chill creeps in,
Echoes of fire and unknown fears, terror within.
Opening my eyes, braced for harsh actuality,
Yet, they were never shut—an unwelcome duality.
Deaths and misfortunes, spawned by my fears,
The blame lays on one, alone in arrears.
What if these nightmares become my reality,
Exposed to the world, my pains and frailty?
Will my family vanish, as my visions trace?
Friends departing for another's grace,
Awakening to find myself in an unfamiliar space.
As teeth chatter in fear’s embrace, all these I contemplate
Oh, the cause of my anxiety roams free,
Guided by a spiritual force.
Breathing in life with a crooked smile,
Or is this merely the fear that my fears are alive?
3 triplets in monorhyme
Bruised by clear neglect and abuse during younger years,
her long youth could be so called, a nightmare of arrears.
Only God could create a song out of her deep fears.
Immersed in His unique mercy, repenting in tears,
wonders began anew, latent blessing for her peers.
Song begun, past pardoned, anxiety disappears.
The remarks from old and new friends brought questions and cheers -
"What's happened?" "You are one eager engine with God’s gears.”
Her "life is a song" sung by angels in heaven's spheres.
Oh yes!
It's a trekked year—
As the lonely part bled to tear,
The wordless lane gripped my fear
Like a toddler who felt his mum left the dark room.
So Credit!
The day my cohorts for years
Left to face their arrears—
We sang and danced with cheers,
Carrying the thought, 'when is it again?'
After that!
None to say I host,
Everyone faces the royal coast
Just like a broken window
Our minds free the emotion flow.
I'm alive today!
My day is my dear,
Applauds to who were always there
This time is content of cheer
Spreading like a moving breeze.
If becoming rich is your thing,
Without having to talk to a sibling,
And you don't know how to set up a sting,
Or for your supper to sing,
And are fresh out of ideas,
Since with the bank you are in arrears,
I can allay all your fears,
Before you shed too many tears,
And tell you how to get rich quick if you care to open your ears,
To hear, what smart people have known for years,
That if you want to get rich without spending years picking pears,
Or fighting off bears,
And have little respect for your pears,
Then stealing their ideas,
Will keep you in funds for years,
If you fail to produce any real tears.
I'm filled with regret seeing you in tears
please forgive me; I know you can't forget
the way I've treated you over the years;
I'm filled with regret.
Pulling the strings of my marionette
I convinced myself you spilled silly tears,
and ignored the pain of my Juliet.
Forever fuels frustration's fears,
and I feel as bad as a man can get
allowing my love to be in arrears;
I'm filled with regret.
Feelings are born of choice
You follow the inner voice
and decide Or not
Which is also a decision in and of itself
The easiest way to describe it is
Bi Thinking of the cartoon trope
Listening to the horns or the wings
between ur ears
To choose which opinion on ur shoulders
you want to hear
To be By Arctic and Antartica simultaneously
Is to only possess one choice
To have only the two battle each other
Choose to follow whomever is louder
or not
Silence or shout
Smile or frown
It is not a fight won or lost
Not a wise one Or a dolt
Nor peace without revolt
It is singular or it is zero sum
How would it feel to toss a
coin and not be able to at least
conceive the concept of three outcomes?
Flip your own coin and wonder
if it could never land on
its' smallest thinnest most improbable
Side
what probability would you believe
Once again i get ahead of myself
Or is it Arrears
That's how
it feels
To be
Bi
Polar
A lifetime grows by adding years
With sunny smiles or stormy tears-
They're nourished both by joys and fears.
For children, they approach with cheers!
As each new birthday soon appears
Each quickly stacks right up and steers
In teenage years challenging peers
With childhood days put in arrears.
How soon the years pick up their speed
Not knowing where the rest will lead.
Direction calls for plans to heed
As year by year changes the need
To reassess our lifetime creed
And make the best of every deed.
Until the last year's glory, feed
With thankfulness for each, indeed.
May 4, 2023
Writing Challenge - 'Y' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Word Chosen: No 2 - Years
To what I owe this joy I have no clue
for it took years to grow this little seed
Some days I had to dig to find its hue
and other times I just knew what to do
I do not own a smile for every face
for sadness often creeps inside my heart
Sometimes it disappears without a trace
that little joy in me that once took part
She is a butterfly that often flies
somedays she sits upon my window sill
and other times, cocooned by tries
she's bittersweet, elusive, gone at will
It is no lie she cannot fly when maimed
nor sit upon a shoulder filled with gloom
so many dark nights of the soul she claimed
then fleetingly she left this birthing womb
To what I owe this joy? I have no clue
perhaps in letting go of past arrears
we spring up hope and chase away the blues
perhaps when sorrow leaves then joy appears.
February 26, 2023
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Writing Challenge -H Words
Something is missing from our winter days
which seem irregular from former years.
This is mysterious in many ways-
although convenient, winter has changed gears!
Here in our Hudson Valley, New York State,
scant dustings of light snow we've seen to date!
No ice on ponds where country folk could skate!
The temps each day are warmer than before-
buds waking up! Such fair clime can't ignore!
A milder winter- should we ask for more?
But wait! Our March is gearing up her phase!
Will she make up for what's kept in arrears?
Should we stand by for blizzards at her gate?
Let's see what fickle March will have in store!
February 23, 2023
Premiere Contest: Fragmented Rhyme
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Checked With RZ and HMS
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