her cat’s blue eyes were the last thing she saw before her eyes closed
vivid dreams that evening were about potential hardships and a new life
She was running across a poppy field, screaming the name of a man
a soldier she barely knew years back, but tonight he was her inspiration
a weird rattlesnake cat’s tail attempted to wake her, but to no avail
she was in the land of the almost dead, traveling the river Styx
a woman who had not crossed over, but was in the clutches of near death
her breathing had slowed to an incredible standstill; a half-life
rapid snapshots of her life came barging into her dream vision
things she had not done, things she wished she could do over
when she awoke, it was all gone, but there was her blue-eyed cat
Hope sat beside me, she took me by the hand,
She whispered her encouragement then wrote love in the sand.
Despair came inching closer, all ready for the fight,
But love who stood right next to me
Stood tall in all her might
Despair came barging in one day
It was the month of May
She was so uninvited
She thought she’d have a say
But Hope had lived a long long life
She was with me entwined
She’d wrestle all calamities
And leave them all behind.
Should I give up?
Trying her best, but it isn't enough.
Giving it her all, but it isn't enough.
"Is that all?"
"Can't you try harder?"
"Do more!"
All these meaningless opinions
effecting me, barging in.
When will it go away?
Sleepless nights, silently crying.
When will someone listen and not judge me?
Can't they let me be ?
Can't stop my thoughts from being clouded by such things.
Should I give up?
As I sit still in the still vehicle looking at the water hole with sure expectation, once through binoculars and again with normal gaze, there was sudden movement as a herd of deer approached the water hole. So far masked in dry reeds, a spotted tawny live-spring sprung to action. Even before I could shift my gaze from normal to binocular and back to normal again, a young deer hung in the cheetah’s panting mouth. As she carried away her food to her waiting family, the herd bent down as one, to graze proper. Wild Day’s business, but the tourist noise didn’t die down. Ashamed at barging in, I felt more sad than being excited. Something dawned on me at that moment, I decided not to be a tourist again.
a death to feed some
hunting to live to raise own
before brash lenses
Truck, tractor, dumptruck
Barricading freedom park
Barging rallyist.
OH, JULY…..you showboat
Barging in…with a bang
Flags and fireworks
Flowers and tears
A grand party
Celebrating our INDEPENDENCE
From those who tried
To restrain our FREEDOM
Oh, July, let Us always remember
Those who ignited the fire
Tended the flames
Mended our oft-tattered flag
John G. Lawless
©6/30/2023
A summer wind came barging in
to block two winter storms
I just blew in, she chirped
to keep you big boys warm
The storms ramped up
soon temperatures dropped
The summer wind winced
her initiative flopped
Back home the wind flew
to sunny, tropical climes
'Twas the last time she'd venture
to block icy cool rhymes
Flashes of lightning at dusk
in dark dank distant clouds
heralds the storm brewing.
So far, its too far away to
hear or feel the claps
of thunder rattle the
windows in their frames.
The storm engulfs the sky in spewed splodges
of dark ferment
as it draws ever onward on
the path towards you.
It embezzles your attention, sucks you in, as the flashes rear up,
like a wolf with white teeth snarling, getting ready to attack.
The storm is closer now flashing, banging, barging
its way to fill the sky with foreboding torment, anger and gloom.
Its overhead now, dropping its hail like cluster bombs, banging
on the roof, trying to shatter the windows.
The sky is filled with whip-cracks
and blinding flashes of light
as it builds to a cosmic kaleidoscopic crescendo.
The wind builds to a snarl,
blowing the storm away like a parent
scolding and grabbing at a naughty child.
The storm moves away with fading, spluttering flashes
and murmuring grunts of thunder.
Outside the eerie sunset scrubbed clean by the storm
is tinged bright with shudders of lightning light
and the haunting smell of rain emitted by the grass,
splattered with hail,
white, bright and melting.
Could you,Carson, imagine
That Ross gave me a margin,
Gap between us enlarging
With smiles into halls barging...
His words of encouragement
Ones streaked with disparagement,
As they show off management
And preach stricter engagement...
How should I really have felt:
By a pal beaten or belt?
Ross has his wins made 'A must'
And V tattooed on his bust,
Meaning,of course,I may rust
While after victory lust...
My shameful losses annual,
Has Ross been using manual?
My dark love saved my life
Shes the one just like I
All alone we touch and speak
In a crowd she's all I see
Like there's no one around
But there is they're not our friends
Barging in to steal again and again
So i killed them
I only ever wanted us
We can run my dark love
Have our fun
Rob a store
Burn the world I don't care
I just want my girl
My home is neon-friend to the idiocy degree.
I am sure when people barge in, they think me mad.
Which suits me fine
For there will be less barging.
They need to stay on their side of the river.
If I need them, I will pick up the phone and call.
If they need me, they had better think hard about it.
For my phone is off unless I want to make a call, which is seldom.
Many homes are feuillemort. Dull orange, dull brown, duller yellow.
This is not my home.
My home lights up like New Year's Eve's Madison Square Garden.
My home is neon-friendly to the idiocy degree.
I could not live here if it were any other way.
I could not live anywhere if I could not take my neons with me.
I certainly could not live in an old folk's home.
I consider them social clubs for the non-private ones.
Early on, ere the grassy knoll gathers momentum
huddled shivering against the ground, stemless tops
of yellow dot the lawns of the old neighborhood, signaling
winter's demise without shouting Spring too loudly...
In a wink or a blink of an eye, these wild buttons
mushroom, spreading far and wide, usurping
the green mantle of my lawn, stems now shooting forth
twisting and turning at jagged angles, bizarrely...
at times, wild undergrowth barging into a (civilized) urban plot
when poof! their signature yellow smiles vanish, dispersed into
puff balls, architectural marvels, wind-scattered seeds, ubiquitous
but not before my inner child picks out a lovely bouquet
for my saintly mother
April 07, 2019
Entry in DANDELIONS contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Goodbye my love
all thoughts…
and Visions of you
have fled My mind
Only to leave behind
A harsh..
hollowed out crater
In the center of my soul
Leaving me…
unconsoled…
As your scent fades
And memories of
your eyes,
Your face,
Your shape
Surrender into shadows…
Lost, is you;
forever more In my
Embrace….
What faustian barging
Must I make, to escape
This plight…
Of the pain
of the lose..
that will follow me…
into the
Eternal night….
If Barr Had Passed the Bar
If bar had been passed by Barr,
Which Barr had passed the bar,
Or would it have to grin and bar.
Jim Horn
Could be barging in to start charging,
Languid remarks we had longed for,
We did discover to be disparaging;
Then in the end were embaraging.
Multituduos hands hold my legs,
Some pulling here and some there.
'Come,work for us' the former said.
While other chewed 'We'll pay you here well'.
Hither to hence i know not,
For i'm almost cracked like a nut.
Whenever the festivals are here:
Well,for those that care:
(Even the large mas and newyear),
They always want me there.
For some to serve many,
While other to please any.
Some use me for any style,
While some press me till i'm dried.
Even adamic calls me different name,
'Jollof','Fried' conveying my fame.
Yet i'm my real self,
Shuffling variant shelves.
If i sent my absence on any of their celebration,
Then the festival is but omission.
'Soy Popular' than i think,
Yet my fame never shrink.
I travel without stress,
On them did i rest.
I live a joyful life,
But being with them is strife.
'Fame is good but makes many rude'.
Though i'm yet myself,
Barging many shelves.
Even presidents adore me,
For i'm always a meal.
This is who i am,
Well,for those who care,I'm RICE.
17:31:12:19:41
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