A festival for all who so to hail,
Who freely get anticipatory bail
To break all social norms,
Turn on head all set forms
And get a nod, the powerful to rail.
A mixed blur of mischief,
Freedom, so what if brief,
Where humour and prank’s prime,
Irreverence no crime.
In any a kingdom
Carnivals blur wisdom--
Hoping to kiss bosom
Gets to kick but bottom,
Yet, what so, how so ‘tis,
Joy unfolds if not bliss,
A toast is it, all transgressions to tail.
________________________
Happenings|12.03.2025| joy, colour
Note: The Indian festival of colour called Holi was celebrated on 13/14 March.
Joe is the sun of a gun
Known to be on the run
He left jail
Made his bail
AWOL isn’t much fun
We scrounged up
Every penny we could
The night the policemen took you.
We had thirteen dollars
For your five hundred dollar bail.
The story could not become stale:
Farouk had pilfered from a mail;
Also, in some shop picked a pail
And, yet, another a huge bale...
When things began to read "Jail"
Farouk had already turned tail
And for waiting ears had his tale:
That he had come to some friends hail,
One of them male and the other female.
Then, a Ben chose to at him rail,
Swearing to lock him up, no bail:
For simply leaning on a bale
And insisting he'd touched a pail,
His guilt linking with his face pale
And this repeating without fail...
So, please, Smart Cops should not me nail,
For this is all about False Trail.
To fail is to hit the bottom scale,
Demonstrably show you could derail,
To shamelessly lose your trail
And go ahead to simply wail
And at cheating sky rail
Like one refused a bail:
To tears receive, even tears hail,
Keeping a face awfully pale,
No correspondence no mail;
Your image for helpless sale…
For the failed Male, no female
From the female bared a male…
For one’s crucifixion, concrete nail,
The wind to blow one off, A Gale!
Painstaking plumes of surest gait
To wield diamond steel over fate;
With slow pair of wit-guarded lips,
As otiose words sway great ships.
Invincible flair and exacting knack
To stand out from the frothy pack;
Ochred with all blue-penciled skill,
For nabob’s dimwits do mimic still.
With the far-scanning aquiline eye
That fowls unborn miles like a spy;
Plus an ear for tiniest voices tuned,
For idlest vowel by vagaries ruined.
Gigantic empathy for pinched souls
Hewn down by lot’s inclement fouls;
Felt tear for fellow wayfarers stung
By blunt luck's blade rashly swung.
A little but constant sacrifice betimes,
For bereft chum eschewed by dimes;
Or even total strangers in want of bail
Out of a jinx along existence’s icy sail.
Beat spouse
Called louse
In funk
Got drunk
Left bar
Drove car
Cop stopped
Got popped
Smelled booze
Bad news
Tests muffed
Handcuffed
To jail
No bail
Court date
Learned fate
Judge gowned
And frowned
One year
Oh dear
Confined
He pined
Short shrift
Wife miffed
Entry for Caren Krutsinger's "Try A New Style" Contest
dreams are beings
incarcerated inside of sleep,
and we petition for their freedom as poets.
Close your eyes, build a beautiful world
and bring it back in handcuffs.
I breath you in deeply,
I softly exhale;
I longed for you to greet me'
As I lay alone in my cell.
My soul has no sail,
And nor my mind awaken;
Not a witness of my tale,
My body is all that is taken.
I try and I may fail,
To release what I have stolen;
My mind fills faster as I bail,
I grasp the bars till I am swollen.
There was once a young girl named bail
Who was scared by the sight of a scale
She worked out all day
So the doctor would not say
Bail Bail step up on the scale
Thieving out, can Law be so mundane
that twice the livelihood of theft is so renamed,
how look away, the recipe so plain
the Capitol of claiming's, not the same!
The bail out spending bubbles is insane
no effort, leverage only paper's feign,
invest to say it's so, while purpose lame
is stumbling for cognition in acclaim!
The bail out, but a landfill of waste's shame
a petty arbitration, labor's train
is turned to inundation, big banks aim
the tax payers rumble ne'er keeps their work's gain!
you can
hands cuffs hand
mabe sit in jail
face looks pail
waiting for the mail
then you get
BAIL
Rina Tina Rose Belly
Gossip with Moon Shelly
Looks forward Tulu
Nothing found blue
Little stars make a bright rally.
Grand mother tells a funny tale
Tina’s sleeping, have a great fail
Mom’s giving cake
All happy and take
Rina’s speaking `give G. mother bail.’
be ready
be steady
when you go there
be aware
don't just stare
understand honey
might need
BAIL MONEY
after the bust
i when thur this stuff
finger print
it was denr
but tent
my skin was pail
but i made
BAIL
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