Best Afoul Poems
I read my obituary
Accolades run afoul to lighten the souls of the living
Trite clichés, forgotten kin, melodic tributes
Boring and meaningless
Upon a granite stone etched for an eternity
I was but a ‘A faithful husband,’
‘A good father,’
And ‘Never Forgotten’
They have it all wrong
If they had read my sonnets
Mystical offspring scribbled on napkins
Consuming stale coffee in late night diners lit by neon lights
They would have known
Had they paid heed to my limericks
Nonsensical rhymes of fairytale fantasies
And polka-dotted panties created to amuse only me
They would have known
Had they inhaled my free verse
Painstaking hours spent
Creating worlds of exquisite harmony
Carrying the reader on endless voyages
Guided by the inspired lyricist through emerald forests
Royal seas, white-capped mountains
And never-ending dreams
They would have known
Had they met my only mistress
One called Haiku
A quiet damsel
Her beauty lies in brevity and endless seasons
They would have known
More than a husband
More than a father
More than forgotten
I am a poet
I read my obituary
I should have known
Hare trigger instincts
always served Roger well
He had an oh, no-no lettuce nose —
a hyper-keen sense when to leave
Roger was rabbit good
at knowing when
to skip out on his responsibilities
Before bedtime stories
would end afoul, he could always tell
the impending sour cabbage signs —
The ***** scent in the air pregnant with crisis ...
rabbit feet had better odds,
than a roll of the dices
Women said he was a tricky daddy dodger,
his friends said it was in his DNA
The court affidavits said his name was Roger,
the summons said he wouldn’t pay
Those hare trigger instincts
always served Roger well
Pearl hip handles, he loved to caress
Hop aboard a bullet train,
when the bad news got belly swell
Twitchy nose rabbit hole escape
was his poker face tell
But one determined Alice
didn’t give
the baby carrot carriage subject a rest
Roger got tortoise marriage cold feet,
half-hearted turnip turtle vows
was his delay strategy best guess
Women said he was a tricky parent draft dodger,
his friends said it was in his rabbit DNA
The court affidavits all said his name was Roger,
the arrest warrant said he wouldn’t pay
Roger has good long hare instincts,
he’s Copperfield cool ... a Houdini Blondie
Angel Eyes bad you better not blink,
every time your back is turned, he gon flee
So deadbeat ugly he’s just a Tuco-hearted rat,
a kid welsher ain’t no rabbit doubt about that
The rabbit in his blood,
is simply hop-along run away DNA
He love to cabbage patch play,
but he hate to bacon lettuce pay
Women said he was a tricky daddy dodger,
his friends said it was in his DNA
The court affidavits said his name was Roger,
the summons said he wouldn’t pay
Roger don’t like
looking at paternity suits,
it just give him the Dodger blues
Rabbits don’t care
to stay in one place too long ...
in a standstill
That just ain’t how their feet DNA think
And those angry Alices kangaroo purse pouches,
holding those court-ordered papers unfriendly ...
they be pushing the Dodger to the brink
Roger’s an absentee parent wearing slipper slouches —
Hopping-mad child support check is an empty
Cassidy signature signed in invisible ink
A descension of value bows night scenes,
the purple canopy edges its hoist,
spirits cool Platte River to lose its sheen,
Nebraskans wake to clarion fields voiced.
A loyal guest calls, it's the Sandhill Cranes,
dancing lessons, fields fattening corn orts,
pecking and choosing established campaigns.
Last state, go afoul, -- a date with the courts.
Locals aid their tally, most from afar,
It is nature's clock, all good things must end,
fly north to breed, and brood, and up to par,
A month's here, till next year, that's how the trend.
Awnings grey, triumphant stirs, the tension,
inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension.
Time has come for getting tough
For I have now had quite enough
Day-after-day this kid comes 'round
To pester me like some old hound
Pelting me with day-old bread
And poking posies at my head
Calling me these cutesy names
And forcing me to kiddie games
Her silly parties, cakes and tea
Are not what they're quacked up to be
Hugging spells I've barely weathered
If not for her, I'm fully-feathered
And if you please, I've had my fill
Her painting lipstick on my bill
Now she's pulled the final straw
A rare offense of barnyard law
Spraying me with bottled water
(Soon, she'll find how far it got her)
Now it's MY turn for some fun
I'll get that chicky on the run!
Perhaps she'll learn, when run amuck -
That "NO" means nothing ... to a duck.
* FIRST PLACE in the "There Is A Brighter Side" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Sponsor. I have selected picture number one (#1) for my poem. *
So little known of Mary's man,
Only that he was righteous, just.
Betrothal gone afoul of plan,
He sought divorce, discrete, no fuss.
Did you have doubts of your betrothed,
A fleeting thought to cause some harm,
As you imagined her unclothed,
Tight in another man's strong arms?
And as the child in her womb grew,
As whispers, furtive glances came,
Were dreams by angels given you
Enough to overcome the shame?
When she was racked with labor pains,
With no rooms left, were you still able
To Mary joyfully proclaim
The Lord’s provision in a stable?
When came the pilgrims from the East,
Brought gold and frankincense and myrrh,
Did you see these for king and priest,
Or gifts to which you'd grow inured?
When called to Egypt in the night,
Just out of reach from Herod's clutch,
Did you in midst of desert flight,
Feel vulnerable or panic much?
Or were there times in playful fun,
Just you, your wife, your baby child,
See him as Christ, the Holy One
Through whom God's children reconciled?
With hammer, nails, at early age,
A carpenter, this child you taught.
Did it, in wildest dreams, presage
The means by which he ransom bought?
When you in haste to temple went,
And he told you in your distress,
"My Father's house,” where he'd be found,
Did his response provide redress?
And after, what became of you?
Some have suggested that you died
An early death, perhaps best too,
For who could watch son crucified?
Though Scripture does not much record,
The part you played was shortly done,
One can imagine your reward:
Eternity with God the Son.
At a spot of roadside, shaded
A predator on the prowl
Concealed itself and waited
for prey to run afoul…
Then, madly, with a dash,
It shot out from the thicket;
Nabbed one prey, in a *flash*
And slapped it with a ticket.
Was so excited to hear some news
From our dear friends Lynda and Al
About to embark on an exciting cruise
What could possibly go afoul
Lynda's had Parkinsons for many years
Needs a wheelchair to get around
Al was faithfully pushing her along
A bump and Lynda went down!
Tragedy struck without any warning
Ninety minutes aboard the ship
Landed on her arm breaking her wrist
Put an end to their exciting trip
Imagine all the pain Lynda endured
As if she hasn't suffered enough
X-rays showed her wrist was shattered
Recovery was going to be tough
Some people happily dance through life
As healthy as all get out
Others are prone to great misfortune
To Lynda that's what life's all about!
© Jack Ellison 2013
FOR FOOLISH FOURTH WIVES
Fordham Belfour, on 4th street, fell afoul of fabulous foreplay
Four minutes before he forgot to catch the 4:44
Fortunately his forgiving fourth wife
Fell for his foolish failure to perform
Michael Jordan, number twenty-three
Greatest of all time, that ever be?
He and his Bulls were sure 'a-rambling'
Till he ran afoul of his penchant for gambling
I've spilled this cold chalice of bitter wine,
To let my blood flow over chosen ground.
A blade now sharp, shall be a slayer of mine.
This curse, by my treacherous heart you found.
A tortured duty for a lie composed.
It rots with dishonor because I've lied.
Betrayed your trust, my evil now exposed.
My flesh will decay, your life is now spared.
You'll rule this Kingdom with a royal hand.
Cruel departure, coat of arms we shared.
I die before you, never to command.
You call death now, to extinguish my sight.
I see in your eyes pain, with no delight.
contest Get Low
My heart’s harbour opened deep and wide
all friendships peaceful within
Love and kindness ran deep inside
‘til resentment and rancour crept in
Do you harbour resentment?
or do you freely forgive?
Forgiveness keeps the sea
lanes open and free
so all of us can love and live
Resentment leads to rancour
Rancour runs afoul of the soul
When the harbour starts to shut itself down
We’ll no longer be in control
Do you harbour resentment?
or do you freely forgive?
Hope is a better anchor
for our soul so all
of us can love and live
Don’t let rancour’s anchor
disturb your harbour’s peace
Scuttle them as far away
from you as you can
to secure much needed release
No anchor for rancour …
~Resist the thing you dread!
No anchor for rancour …
~love and kindness instead!
No anchor for rancour …
~smooth sailing ahead!
No anchor for rancour …
~bon voyage !
Ha, Ha, Ha.
It's getting better now, days of wine and roses, dates, and alpine courses.
But through the haze of lost days, mornings, noons, and nights.
Everyday now!
A flower blooms, made of concrete.
weary morns, hair afoul, breathe I breathe.
head a pounding, sounds afouling.
A flower blooms, made of concrete.
amphetamines acquaintanceship assuages
agonizing aches also advocates amorousness
assiduously activating admiration
aggressive attacks assault afoul
affable affinity and affectionadumbration
anatomical accidental addiction attested as academic,
although afterward abnegation absolutely arduous,
affianced attired apparently as an anomaly
Ares and Abyssinian Astarte admixture
acquiescence affliction affected adroitly,
and abruptly abends accessible
altruistic alms axed
albeit admonishing, alluding,
and attributing authored
autonomous anonymous adroit arriviste agents
accompanying as accomplished accomplices
accredited ace advertisers
applaud ascendent assaults amidst agonizing appeals
acting all acrimoniously apropos
avowedly ardently, and antagonistically, agitating
appositely advocating ancillary assistance
addict adrift afloat anchors away
along, among, and an alias archenemy -
adorned abominable assassin alters ambition
adroitly, aggressively, absolutely
addict announces asseveration
against avid admonishment
alarmingly annulling authentic affiliation
anew anonymous ability acclaims alignment
aegis actually adversarial abetting attrition appetite
acceleration ascendent after aplenty anesthetization
additionally activating arced analogous arrow
advancing added abdominal and arterial agony
abject ambivalence arrests accomplishments attainable
any artistic avocation absconded
asper auditorial approbation, animadversion
artificial aggrandizement abrogates astuteness
appropriate adjudication affronted
alternative afforded amnesty about acing audioslave
as ambition assumes arriviste affectation
already appalling alacrity awakens amendment
although Awol administration adamant
acrimonious affront agonizingly attributable
announces another afterworld
apparent ailing apparition
ardent allegiance asking anyone appreciable affix
apathy abounds attending apriorism allotment.
Sickness depresses my spirit
And shut down the doors of the sense organs
My soul recoils within the shell of my body
My heart retreats to a solemn feast.
There is within the flesh a great void of vanity
The spirit ruminates on bizarre planes
Seeking the verity of essence and elevation
To life is indifference, death becomes a handy foe.
Life and death are allies to trickery;
For we neither could sleep nor wake
At day overcome by a sleep-in-consciousness
And night, burdened by the waking-in-slumber.
The mind conjures up blurry images
Through grim eyes veers hallucination
The head goes a spiral in nocturnal planetary
As the body on a bed of limbo is confined.
Monotonous drone of air in empty jar whirred
Round and round the head dome
Whose sinew and vigor once thrive but now
Whose nerve and wit have become vain.
In sickness the body and spirit convulsed
And brings heaven and hell to closer horizon:
The body’s nourishments are repulsed by it
The spirit retreats from life’s elevations.
The Supreme comes to the fore of reason
Above all ambitions and abundance,
Which are subject to breath; when it runs afoul,
We shall again ponder its mystery, in sickness!
To Sleep
Perchance to dream
That doesn’t seem
Like too much to ask
So deep
And so extreme
One won’t waken
But I’m taken to task
Summoned in the middle of the night
By tormentors in my head
I should ignore - them but instead
I rise
Like a ghost on the prowl
I rise
Like a hunting owl
I rise
And run afoul of the law of
Sleep
To Sleep
How late the hour
What is this power
That shakes me from rest?
I keep
Answering the call
I’m bound to fall
And fail the test
I long to drink from the river Lethe
Forgetting all that’s been said
I should ignore it - but instead
I rise
Like a thirsty vampire
I rise
Like the flames of a fire
I rise
Even though I tire from lack of
Sleep
My one desire to sleep