Best Bump Into Poems
In this day and age, when happy seems vacant
Where people’s hopes appear forever distant,
It’s the little things that see you through the day
Often it seems, in the most trivial way.
A simple smile might spice up your day
Maybe an ‘hello’, said in a friendly way
Or a driver, who lets you pull out in front,
Or the boss who’s ill, you would normally confront.
To stumble across a coin, when you’re stony broke,
Bump into an old friend, when it’s years since you spoke,
Receive some flowers, right out of the blue
Or complete the crossword you thought you could never do.
Wake up with the thought - ‘it must be Monday’,
Only to then realise, actually it’s Sunday,
Or a kiss from a loved one, with an ‘I love you’
There’s no greater act that anyone can do!
It’s the little things that can give you hope
A gentle ‘pick me up’ when it’s hard to cope.
Whatever it is, that brightens your day
We must conclude- ‘it’s surely god's way!!’
Is my fate to go on living in this impervious place
where everyone dons a mask to conceal his face?
I'm floundering in this troubling tenure of time,
in which no one understands the rhythm of rhyme.
I need to search the deepest corners of my mind
for a region where oblivion is no longer defined.
I hunger to locate a habitat where I can be me,
a sanctuary where my inhibitions can be set free.
Mankind has become such an abstract machine,
all walking to the beat of the same tambourine.
Egotistic are those blind to the needs of others.
A depth of indifference that stifles and smothers.
When did it happen, that it became a world of greed
where everyone wants more than they'll ever need?
Bump into me on the street. No one seems to care.
The oblivion in society is greater than I can bear.
I cling to the prospect of a world in which I behold,
a race of benevolent humans, in stories long foretold,
where no disguise is ever worn to conceal a feeling,
and no secrets are kept for embarrassing revealing.
If there is a place where these human qualities exist,
it's an Eden in which I could more than just subsist.
I wish to withdraw from this callous, obdurate place,
to live where people do not behave as a robotic race.
September 23, 2021
"O" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
When monsters of old come to mind
I remember good old Frankenstein
And if I should go swimming in the afternoon
I may encounter the creature from the black lagoon
If a taste for blood is what I desire
I would definitely bump into some vampires
If its the living dead I wish to see
Then there's all those flesh eating zombies
If the full moon should arise
The howl of the wolfman will surprise
Then there's good old Godzilla
One of my favorite monster thrillas
Forgive me as I excuse myself
I didn’t mean to bump into your shelf
It wasn’t really what I intended
I am just bruised and the shelf can be mended
I’m sorry I’ve knocked the table with my knee
I didn’t mean to do that and spill all that tea
I am not fit to be let out that is true
I seem to have trouble with everything I do
Please forgive me for all that I did
Sorry I knocked off your dustbin lid
I was just walking past and wham
I am so clumsy I know I am
Oops I’ve gone and done it again
I’ve just bumped your car what a pain
I didn’t mean to hit your car
I didn’t think I’d reversed that far
If she doesnt call you
[ Its because she is waiting for you to call her ]
When she walks away from you mad
[ Follow her ]
When she stare's at your mouth
[ Kiss her ]
When she pushes you or hit's you
[ Grab her and dont let go ]
When she start's cussing at you
[ Kiss her and tell her you love her ]
When she's quiet
[ Ask her whats wrong ]
When she ignore's you
[ Give her your attention ]
When she pull's away
[ Pull her back ]
When you see her at her worst
[ Tell her she's beautiful ]
When you see her start crying
[Just hold her and dont say a word ]
When you see her walking
[ Sneak up and hug her waist from behind ]
When she's scared
[ Protect her ]
When she lay's her head on your shoulder
[ Tilt her head up and kiss her ]
When she steal's your favorite hat
[ Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night]
When she tease's you
[ Tease her back and make her laugh ]
When she doesnt answer for a long time
[ reassure her that everything is okay ]
When she look's at you with doubt
[ Back yourself up ]
When she say's that she like's you
[ she really does more than you could understand ]
When she grab's at your hands
[ Hold her's and play with her fingers ]
When she bump's into you
[ bump into her back and make her laugh ]
When she tell's you a secret
[ keep it safe and untold ]
When she looks at you in your eyes
[ dont look away until she does ]
When she misses you
[ she's hurting inside ]
When you break her heart
[ the pain never really goes away ]
When she says its over
[ she still wants you to be hers ]
- Stay on the phone with her even if shes not saying anything.
- When she's mad hug her tight and don't let go then kiss her
- When she says she's ok dont believe it talk with her
- because 10 yrs later she'll remember you
- Call her at 12:00am on her birthday to tell her you love her
- Call her before you sleep and after you wake
Fingers toy with my nearly worn out bank card.
Not too confident, I hold onto my nerves, hard.
Ahead, petty items in her trolley hold me slowed.
The cashier stops, lengthily examining a bar code.
I glance around at the growing queue, blindly.
I bump into him, behind me, and I apologize kindly.
I let him precede me, my morals climbing high.
He hesitates with three items, as if not sure which to buy.
I tend him a basket which he aloofly ignores.
Disconcerted, my eyes divert to the store's doors.
The cashier waits for the cash, visibly well trained.
He fishes in a pocket then empties another, unrestrained.
Some coins roll and find the cashier’s impatient fingers.
But she waits with smile fixed as he lingers.
At last he finds his notes, all bundled.
His shaking hands proudly tug one crumbled.
He peers at it and slowly returns it back to place.
Another he places, unsure, in hand tended with grace.
Suddenly he pulls it back, deciding it was not the right one!
Now this, he checks carefully; it is a larger one.
He gave it away, not looking very happy.
The cashier’s patience is waning, visibly.
But she amounts the cash and helps him as he packs.
Then he gets annoyed as his long bread roll cracks.
He halts and decides to break it into three; it goes into the bag.
The cashier turns with a bright smile to a queue in lag!
Greetings from Canada dear readers ! Let me cajole you with a wee bit of fun
and ardent banter. Well, obviously I am Canadian and we are very polite and
charming people, we are sorry when we are guilty of nothing. We say please
and thank you and your welcome often. It is drilled into us from childhood.
You bump into us and lickety-split we will say sorry! It can all get quite absurd.
Talking about absurd there is a real rigmarole going on with a groundhog, a
rodent who predicts if we will get a long winter or a short winter. What kind of
nincompoop believes in this gobbledygook. The story goes that if the rodent,
excuse me, I mean groundhog sees his shadow we have six more weeks of
winter. Now, being a fairly intelligent girl, I say in a forceful voice, balderdash!
I could have predicted six more weeks of winter. Without getting cantankerous,
it is bloody freezing outside! Apparently this pampered, Willie rodent saw his
big fat shadow and it was declared. What a brouhaha that caused. Why did they
not just ask me ? Oh, we may get a little melt, to tease us but the snow and
cold will stick around to torment us, the wind will blow and the snow will fall.
the bare branches wish
for soft emerald green gowns-
snowflakes swirl and twirl
_______________________
February 4, 2018
Poetry/Haibun/A Bit Of Lofty Chit Chat
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9895-87
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Eloquent Banter; You tease me so nicely
sponsor, Edward McCall
Honorable Mention
i think of the
miles
and
streets
i crossed
to bump into you
and
i smile now
because i realize
that until you lifted your head
to see where you were going
you could never
see me coming
If only it were so simple,
to cruise through life smelling roses;
but the obstacles blacken the countryside,
and we unwittingly crush them beneath our boots.
Dreams sustain us through the madness;
goals give a finish line to our race.
Yet they change with every turn, around every wall,
and remain elusive throughout the quest.
Mistakes are made, and regrets are our luggage;
we will drag them with us to slow us down.
The victories are flashes of light, sudden and unlasting, which allow us
to glimpse the road ahead before darkness descends.
Love is bitter, yet it is the bread that keeps us.
Over and over it fills us up, only to starve us.
The people whom we love shape our destinies and our strengths,
yet leave us cold and alone in the darkness.
There are others trying to race to the end;
occasionally, we bump into one or two.
The bonds we form help us down the path less lonely
but eventually, we lose each other in the darkness.
Alone is not a bad way to be;
it clears your head and focuses you on the journey.
Cherish the short intervals during the quest you have with others,
but be prepared to walk alone in the darkness.
Church bells ringing, choirs sing in harmony
beautiful sounds all around town buildings
There goes a deer skipping and dancing
full of enjoyment that can be felt by all.
Even the sky seems to clap in time
as clouds bump into one another
causing big flashes of lightning
to accompany the thunder
We open the doors just before midnight
to let in the scents refreshing one's home
Meanwhile we drink a dram o' whisky
hugging each other tight as we kiss.
Peace to all, and a Happy New Year
I noticed her two weeks ago.
She flew into my physics lab
like hell itself was after her
and tripped as she sat down.
She's always late for classes,
stammering her apologies,
flustered and myopic, her glasses
barely perched upon her nose.
Accident-prone, she barreled
through the library like Grant
attacking Richmond, giggling nervously
as she checked out her books.
To me she is a treasure, a whirling
dervish dressed in black and white,
always black and white, like for her
it's some particular religion.
I asked her to the movies. She acted
like I was the first who'd ever taken
interest, she was flattered but she
flatly and decidedly said no.
She had thrown down the gauntlet,
so I set out to woo her with my wit
and charm, taking every opportunity
to bump into her when and where I could.
Finally she acquiesced, and when
she slowed down enough to smile
and chat and laugh and joke with me
my heart was hers to keep!
I was going to add a long remix track to a playlist,
A playlist called ‘Waitin For the Bus in the Dark’,
But waitin for the bus in the dark is as tedious as it is -
Making a remix tedious alongside it wouldn’t make sense.
The remix is exciting now -
Anticipating excitement knocking on my eardrums as I wonder how the tune will change.
But next time,
If I play it too soon,
I’ll know.
I’ll just know.
Knowing keeps listening from being curious,
And makes it here we go again.
But “here we go again” are lyrics in an excellent song -
1973 by James Blunt.
Maybe I could add that with the remix to the playlist
And never know which will play first.
Maybe I could add so many songs
That twill be one unmemorable remix
That won’t all play in the time I’m waiting for the bus,
One unmemorable remix that Spotify can shuffle out of order.
The bus I’m waiting for now is too long away
To make it to my trans support group before it ends,
So I’ll make my way home
And bump into an old friend
Who must have started to find me tedious
Or forgotten about me,
Like a song on shuffle that barely plays,
Forgotten how good it is.
The rockin days of roller skating
Just traveling round and round
Hoping you don't bump into someone
Causing you to both fall down
The music would be blaring
And the lights would set the mood
Girls go around smiling at the guys
Hoping some guy would smile back too
There was always some guy styling
Trying to impress everyone with his moves
He had the best pair of roller skates
Which made him the coolist of the cool
He was the one that sparked you
Made you want to try a couple new moves
So one day you could skate like him
And be the coolist of the cool
Those wild days of roller skating
When problems were all left at the door
Everyone rolling around in a big circle
Hoping their bodies never hit the floor
Dan Kearley:1-27-12
Turn if off!
I told myself
Are you behaving like an addict?
Do you have to read your emails, look on Facebook, tweet a few lines,
Play a game or two and while at work your lunchtime and breaks are
Filled with personal calls and surfing the web
Robots we are not
We are emotional intelligent beings living in a world that have diminished
Our attention with others to a text
Sure all of technology is a tool for making things more efficient
But are we so self sufficient that we miss the human element
By becoming deficient?
I see shoppers pass by others and never speak because they are engrossed
In conversations on their cell phones and bump into objects and fall into potholes because their attention is focused on cyberspace
Because of God’s grace
They weren’t hurt
But they certainly didn’t save face
I’ve learned to take a technology fast
At a certain time my cell phone and computers are off
And my television too
So that my personal interaction with others isn’t devalued
I found him slumped over his Remington No.5, no more "Elite Typing" for this poor fellow. His Fedora was on the floor beside him, flat as a pancake with a stilleto heel print in the centre of it. Other than a pair of McCalls boxers, he wasn't wearing anything. The "Besame Red Velvet Lipstick stain on his crotch, matched the color on the cigarette butts in the black ashtray on his desk. I noticed the ashtray was embosed with a logo from the stork club.
I had been to the Stork club a few times, it's over on 53rd street. Not the kinda place for an ordinary gumshoe like myself. This guy musta been a regular, there were match books all over the apartment. In a place like that you never know who you might bump into. I seen Frank there one time, he didn't give me a second look. I tried to get into the Snub room once but couldn't get past St. Peter, maybe he didn't like that I was wearing a single gold earing.
I did some calling around, it seems the poor chump was Vincent Scott, a rich banker from Hollywood. He had been about town with a Dorthy Lamour Wanabee. She had the attitude but was a bit lacking in the looks department. Mind you for a balding middle aged banker, she was probably the Cat's Ass. Rumor was that he was planning on leaving his wife and two kiddies. Judging by the two, one way tickets to Cuba in his desk drawer, plans were well under way. I guess that bullet hole in the center of Vincent's forehead kinda spoiled his plans.