The wait is over, or maybe
there was never a wait
A time to pull your pencil and
pad and illustrate
Create your masterpiece in this realm of 3D
Sweetly usher your dreams into reality
All the times you looked at them in their time
And oh, how you pleaded and cried, "When will
it be mine?"
But how could it be yours when it's theirs?
To be prudent is to flee from others' affairs
But quietly and somewhat balky, you travailed
You had no idea that soon and very soon you
would prevail
So look no more, your time has come
Only look back to give thanks for the distance
you've traveled from
Categories:
balky, confidence, destiny, dream, endurance,
Form: Rhyme
It’s coming
A Nor’easter
they have held their finger up
compared the spaghetti plots
interviewed a guy with arthritis
unfurled the flags
sounded the alarm
and we wait
listening to the buoy bells
buying batteries and snacks
moving back from an unseen tide
knowing it will come
bending trees
scattering empty trash barrels
rattling a balky shed door
tearing at the edges of the bay
we know
it’s coming
A Nor’easter
And we wait!
John G. Lawless
©10/25/2021
Categories:
balky, nature, storm, weather,
Form: Free verse
Strains are carefully prevented with a tangle.
Were you eager for me to return to my angle?
It restored its fiery vigor due to the treble hook.
As a result, I wiggle akin a fish in the hope of a look.
In this yet another piece, rusty tones overrule.
On a grimy patio, a rusted-out rock bewails.
Your deft touch lashed a pale face balky.
Worries that don't seem to act away quickly.
Your anile escape boots are no longer active.
There was a recent rise of a rich perspective.
A pair of delicate slippers were subtly conveyed.
It's two sizes vaster and boasts a range-wide.
The earthy angst of your cramped spine.
Waning whine faded by a support divine.
Written: October 21, 2021
Categories:
balky, analogy, angst, anxiety, appreciation,
Form: Sonnet
The only thing more achy
Is Death; it makes blurry
Our visions when in bevy
Of one’s funeral – body
Transformed sugar briny.
It makes a Hindu use billy;
Christians use box browny;
Uses soil a Pathan brawny;
Whoever may see be balky;
And wish to see any alley
To escape You O, Bonnie.
Then give apple or berry,
Or grapes or mango bossy.
Nothing tastes sweater, Honey
When Death tastes on you bonnie.
Categories:
balky, death,
Form: Monorhyme
I've got a crush
on my chiropractic doctor.
He of the beautiful bones.
He helps me with batteries
of a balky device, says
"Give me a minute"
My spirit soars, as I say
"What's more, all my
minutes are yours"
Categories:
balky, for him,
Form: Rhyme
We walk the rocky shore and you lean heavily on me,
Mother, bruising my balky arm -- muttering "Ay, Hijo!".
A few steps and, breathless, we are both exhausted.
Your once-brown eyes, gone gray, are like
concentric rings rippling from a random stone
thrown into this polluted pond in winter.
Cataracts cloud your lenses; they have a ruptured look --
purple, jellied -- like the eyes of a dead fish which I poke,
perversely fascinated. It is puffed and rotten.
Your eyes are puffed, too, red-rimmed,
moist with tears that brim over
though you try to blink them back.
That you love me and I you,
and that we wish to extend
our time together, is clear.
As clear as the fetid water in the pond,
as clear as my conscience when I drop you
at the Home, having invented a meeting,
to which I must hastily fly.
Categories:
balky, angst, caregiving, depression, family,
Form: Narrative
Awaiting to quench her thirst,
Doth she forlorn lie.
Whilst balky he is to burst,
Yon obstinate sky.
Categories:
balky, hope, nature
Form: Couplet