Why does the trolley
dolly or cart
I choose to use
in every supermart
always have a wonky wobbly wheel
and feel oh so wearing
as if it's about to lose
its marbles or ball bearings?
It clunks like junk with a 'thunking' sound
and almost dumps
my groceries on the ground
won't go straight
invariably tilts veers
careens or curves
and without a doubt
indubitably gets on my nerves
Categories:
bearings, fun, humorous, silly, word
Form: Rhyme
Sitting in this shabby chair
By the screen at night
In the middle of nowhere
Outside and inside
I’ve been meaning to tell you
Something that you know
For a long time that passed through
Something you won’t show
But you know it well enough
So I am aware
That we can’t delete this stuff
It is always there
Not my fault of past or present
Neither it is yours
It just happens, or it doesn’t
Without any cause
Calling through the wind and snow
It’s the voice of time
Time to come, and time to go
Time that brings no sign
Time that says it is too late
Time to close the call
Time that has no time to wait
Time that makes me small
Time to hug an empty space
Kissing this cold air
Time to turn my smiling face
Back into nowhere.
Categories:
bearings, loneliness,
Form: Rhyme
It's either too hot or too cold here,
the thermostat in hell must be broke again.
Maybe this is Purgatory
i'm told the Governor of purgatory
can't fix anything and he dithers a lot.
Someone has turned down
the dimmer switch in my mind -
hard to see my thoughts.
Foods a bit stodgy
and there's a shortage of porta-potties.
It’s quite heavenly here on the weekends
and during most 'happy hours',
otherwise there's much murkiness.
I’m driving down a four lane highway
squinting into the foggy rain,
now I see a road sign;
well look at that
it says: 'Welcome to Ohio'.
Categories:
bearings, poetry,
Form: Free verse
i'm confused
not knowing
where to go
what to do
my compass
needle sticks
out reading
south by
south
west
but
google map
and my gps
suggest
another
place
as
to
where
the X
may be
yet directing
me are directions
that are directionally
my instincts telling me
you are
exactly
where
you are
meant
to
be
but by my
calculations
with sexton and
star eyed gazing
the Americas weren't
discovered by Columbus
so Colombia isn't spelled
with
a "u"
Categories:
bearings, muse,
Form: I do not know?
Getting Your Bearings (north of the equator)
In order to know where you are,
The best way's to find the North Star.
Two stars in Big Bear
Are pointing to where
Polaris in Small Bear shines far.
Around the Pole star in his tail swings
The 12 constellations in grand rings.
This looking at bears
(If anyone cares)
Is why we say "getting our bearings".
composed by: Izzy Cohen
For a much more scientific explanation, see
http://www.synapses.co.uk/astro/bearings.html
Categories:
bearings, imagery, night, sky, space,
Form: Limerick
Emblazoned on a metalic field
Leeds coat of arms displays an azore shield.
Upon a sable chief, this deep black bar,
Three mullets argent, silver stars.
On a chain of or, beneath the chief,
Hangs the finest golden fleece.
Surmounting the crest, rests a wreath of blue,
Perches an owl proper,of natural hue.
Supporting each side,two owls with plumage brown,,
Ducally gorged with a golden crown.
Underneath, inscribed on a scroll
PRO REGE ET LEGE it does extol.
Latin translates ' FOR KING AND THE LAW'
A motto born after civil war.
7/ 29/ 2015.
The city of Leeds
In the county of Yorkshire
England.
George Barrie Seal.
Categories:
bearings, city,
Form: Rhyme
I am the only one who thinks
This all used to be much simpler
From sitting at the bus stop
To now driving to a party
Except you’re not invited to the party
Cuz you’re not a cool kid
Because really most of us aren’t
Only a select few are cool
And that’s what’s wrong with this world.
Standing alone wondering when your life will begin
You trust yourself that you’ll be okay in the end
But the promises to yourself you make
Are only discovered to minutes later break.
Outcast and all other names
They call you that you soon believe are true
See this is what’s wrong with the world
And growing up. And you.
Growing up is supposed to be about freedom
But how can I be free
When I bear the chains of society
On my ankles, walking past
The place I’ve been searching for
And arrived at last
But discover you there
And bow my head in shame
For I thought I would be free
And that I’d forget your name
But that’s not how it works
And everyone is fake
It used to be much simpler
I guess I’ll never escape.
Categories:
bearings, bullying, growing up, loneliness,
Form: Free verse