A fickle pickle occurs when a barytic agent is introduced. Moving onward to eat one of the tainted fruits, the result is shameless drunken bacchanal behavior. Vomiting may produce sintered clumps. Extralinguistic speech may occur with reversionary doubting crosshatched with psychical deformities of the tongue. Curdling spital may also be present. Unspecific hallucinations, plainspoken tales of oblong and moist body parts usually follow within 24 hours. Momentous as all this may seem, one must be ready for even more animated behavior.
Summing up, if you eat a fickle pickle you will become nutty in thought, word and deed!
(constructed with words from Poetry Soup random word generator.)
Categories:
bacchanal, cheer up,
Form: Prose
Need my first thing in the morning cuppa tea
bladder’s screaming ‘how long can I hold this pee?
but I am waiting for a darned online delivery
App says 8 more stops, so I know he’s getting near
then hopefully these butterflies will disappear
Footsteps creak along the corridor, it could be him
bet those nosey bastards went and let him in
Naah, must be a resident or someone visiting.
App now says 5 more stops then he’ll be here
butterflies go wild – it’s a frenzied bacchanal
dancing, unabashedly as though its carnival
The tea, the pee, a number two, can all wait
He’ll soon be here before I’m in a real state.
App now say 3 more stops, then he’ll be here
soon I can get on with the rest of my day
butterflies could then stop their taunting play.
OH NO! app shows his current location
my near elation has turned to frustration
never mind butterflies, my stomach is in a knot
wondering if he will come today - or not.
Put the kettle on, better make a nice cuppa tea
sat on the toilet, desperately needed that pee
number two shouted worriedly ‘oi what about me?’
Then, just then, there is a ringing on my bell.
Butterflies danced - now they can go to hell.
Categories:
bacchanal, anxiety, humor, satire,
Form: Rhyme
Edamus et bibamus ...
Today is a general party ...
Hellish turmoil, subside,
bacchanal, diabolical feast!
Joy, euphoria, abuse...
Gigantic ball ... real hell,
artificial sky ... hysteria!
Laughter, smiles, screams, kisses ...
Loose nerves, adrenaline
almost explosion, almost stroke ...
Beer, coca, tequila, cannabis ...
Unleashed senses, consciences
nauseating ...
Pubs, bars, alleyways,
madness in the alleys ...
There is no tomorrow!
There is a long day,
endless night,
enjoyment ...!
Before, all "alive",
now early morning ...
Tomorrow came ...
All dead
contaminated ...
All invited,
covidados ... Covid,
is the King ... the God,
the devil... !
Categories:
bacchanal, abuse, allegory, allusion, extended
Form: Free verse
THE MEADOW
Spread
Neath umbilical sky
On nutrient Earth
She stands alone this noon
Surrounding woods
Mountains
Distant structures
Seem to encase the lush green plot
Have taken on a sunny sheen
Then there is this peaceful babbling brook
running through
sparkling
wetly whispering
GOD!
What an ecstatic vision!
But wait!
Come
Lie down on fairy moment’s colorful hay
Smell the wild flowers
Hum a happy tune
Then Listen!
Oh!
Below!
A wild bacchanal defames all empyrean image
Slither-slide –
Bunnies mice POP!
Bees dragonflies
Winged squadrons buzzing BANZAI!
A billion glassy eyes of every size
Looking for kill
Or pre-empting demise
Shiny black bugs on nature’s green rug
Distant
The sound a staccato wheeze
A high wire din
Like one hundred tortured violins
Then rise
Return to that simpler view
Smile in wonder
That nothing in nature is static
And wonder what’s going on inside of you?
Dave Austin
Categories:
bacchanal, nature,
Form: Free verse
HELPLESS IN THE DANCE
Helpless in the dance
The whole Earth striking rhythm
Its pulse coursing upward
And through the frame
Nor effort of mind can stem the native urge
Wine and bacchanal feed
This dizzy whirl at being’s fleshy core
Yea feet don’t seem to touch the floor
Mind a space in whiteness
Such is the pristine hold
If thought there be
It is only for the dance
Dave Austin
Categories:
bacchanal, dance,
Form: Free verse
Escape with me.
Go forth from all your glorious hold
upon the hollow earth, that churning
vessel filled with pliant clay you seize
to build a higher day, a paragraph
of history your own, an immortality
that someone else may understand.
Your power exists as well
to throw it all away,
to celebrate the light alone
out there beyond penumbra,
waiting for the grinding hours
to have an end.
You need not put your shoulder down,
or prove your worth, for midnight
wears away, the dancers wake;
the sea is crystalline out there
beyond the shore. There is
a bacchanal of joy that waits
for tired sins to dry their tears
of reticence; hope is for creating—
love is for forgetting sometimes.
These are the years for gathering.
Escape with me.
Move down the road a little farther
...where the light is better.
There is healing in the air,
and just a little time to breathe.
The dance begins again,
the unknown set aside awhile.
For us, the sunlight sings.
~
Categories:
bacchanal, philosophy, light, light,
Form: Free verse
House Upon a Rock
Have no fear, I am here, on this block
Promise to build my house upon a rock
Like a picture or a mirror on a wall
I am standing there looking tall
Standing behind this door
As the passersby wonder if I am rich or poor
Is he saint or sinner?
Is he a loser or a winner?
A fox guarding the hen?
Can he read, write or use a pen?
He may be a wizard or a devil
Watch him stand there like a rebel.
Sometimes I marvel at the many faces
And the myriad of colors of the different races.
This all makes for a very interesting situation,
But the down side of this is bacchanal, and serious confrontation
The many cultures, languages, so much confusion
I stop to think, life is but an illusion.
What makes us human; what makes us great?
Are we here forever, or will we end in a sudden and painful fate
Will providence smile at us one last time?
Even after the commission of the most grievous and heinous crime
The crime of hate without any provocation,
As people pass each other in the street or subway station.
It is time that people cast away hate, anger and fear,
To look to the heavens, to find Jesus or an angel standing there.
William Morrissey 1/19/08
Categories:
bacchanal, introspection, house, people, house,
Form: Rhyme
You should have heard the steaming riot
Of the village carnival
The beating pans, the conversing griot
And the boys bright bacchanal
You do not know what relief the moment give
To a village's quiet life, the hope
For a hero's incentive to any who ends its life
What will be saved? A chicken's
Lost told by the wild hen house clucking
A batch of eggs forgotten
In the pingwing bush where they laid them,
The dogs from boredom
The girl brought away from mother's watch
In the pandemonium to meet
The boy whose body is laden with tropic heat
So much of destiny and joy
Is played out from the intentions to destroy
The mad mongoose who dared
The quiet Sunday afternoon to stroll
For food, and lambs bleat in the fold.
Categories:
bacchanal, animals, nature, social
Form: Verse
The slurry flows with diligence
from the troths of complacency
fed by noble gravity to plummet
in pools of needless flesh discarded.
No deity commands such diligence
within this moribund dance of death
since platitudes of human thought
form these adept doctrines of decay.
Every living thing hangs in balance
behind our jewel of happenstance
where scoundrel and thief run rampant
to extricate pounds of sweat as penance
for ignoring the energies of renewal
that fill each cell with benevolence
from echoes of creation's explosion
lifting sonorous within these tissues.
I tip my glance towards wonderment
despite the machinations of demonic
force fixated on domination of spirit
once free to flow with blessed grace.
Justified within my sacred promise,
I shall journey to correct corruption
with every fiber of fortitude majestic
until I glow like a prodigious nova.
Categories:
bacchanal, devotion
Form: Free verse
T&T Carnival that is Soca Bacchanal
Blue skies half-naked people
Steel pan lots of bands, foreigners everywhere
Crowded street
Sweet melodies
Friendly people
Loud voices
Cheerful laughter
Calm winds
Cool breeze
Watchful eyes
Bright sun
Rainbow colours
Dancing children
Different cultures that is what we call
T&T Carnival
Categories:
bacchanal, childhood,
Form: Rhyme
A bacchanal cachexic by right
Gnathonic felicificative zoetic
Juxtaposition to inculpate yaff
Hysteresis ellipsis languescent.
Wyrd querimonious tenebrose
To rusticate palladian malison?
Dealbation kleptomania usitative
Sanguineous abattoir in nihilism.
Obsecrate vesuciate xerophytic
So that existence may evolve!
Categories:
bacchanal, education
Form: Free verse