Best Dislodge Poems
Starlight pierces ebony,
above sculpted shades of white.
And moonbeams soften the scene,
gilding Night, with golden light.
Donning a crystalline dress:
Nature's a picture of grace.
And draped in soft, snowy down:
She's frozen in time and space.
Billions of snowflakes gather
atop branches: where they freeze.
And subtle features get carved:
by the breath of a sharp breeze.
But breezes aren't strong enough,
to dislodge the sticky snow.
And the laden branches bend:
bowing impossibly low.
Cold casts an enchanting spell:
in the throes of Arctic chill.
And silence imbues magic:
to Winter's artistic skill.
In the distant sea, a misty vista
Wearing a shroud of pale blue illusion
It sends forth silhouette of fiesta
A wake-up call for my faint sensation
On goes the red and pink pursuit for more
Shades of beauty in our daily struggle
A tango of time in tide on the shore
Rustling sounds in the moments of bubble
With the red rose tucked in your bun of hair
The wild wind keen to dislodge your sari
We are aloof in our velvet armchair
Distress accrues in your tense inquiry
The woodpecker looking for more and more
Let’s turn on to answer the purple door
____________________________________
26/01/2017
The sun lifts an edge
and peeks a feeble light
beneath a blanket
of morning fog, its dull glow
hugging the horizon,
silhouetting a stand of trees
and the cross-hatched
pattern of a factory fence.
Another day has begun
with its shuffle of trite
miscellanea.
I muster an interest, sending
out my first emissary of thought
to greet the return
of this ancient god, follow the rituals
set to guide my way, bring favor
and bless the little plot
of earth that surrounds my life.
I pray a poem to reap
a continued harvest.
Not much happens now except
down in the cellars of my mind
where I keep the past bottled
like vintage wine. Now and then
I give each a turn to dislodge
the sediment and taste
a sample or two,
clean the labels and try
and remember the details
from those that have fallen off.
Occasionally I bring
a bottle up to share with a friend,
set it upon a table, open
and drink. An insipid autumn sun
is enough to dance reflections
around the rim of my glass,
ease out a tear or a smile,
helping me up to go and get
another. My days now
have matured into simple pleasures
and writing a few lines
to label the bottles cellared
in the quiet reaches of my mind.
Wisps
of wonder
over you
cling around
the things I do.
Can't dislodge
your silky light,
strings and strips and webs tonight,
breath you in
and
breathe you out,
smothering ,
in strands of doubt,
why you left
and if you'll be,
ever coming back to me.
See these eyes
tattooed with grief?
you stole my vision like a thief,
leaving
in the darkest hour
taking all my hope
and power..................
I can't live and I can't die............
with wisps of wonder
in my eye.
There once was a boy named Steve
who was always asked to leave,
for he'd let his snot drip,
dislodge it with a flip,
then wipe his nose on his sleeve.
Ferret Legging
You never know what you’ll find on the net
Nothing much surprises me there and yet
I found a sport that takes no native skill
Just a strong pair of pants and a real strong will
Competitors’ trousers are tied neath their shin
Before two ferrets are securely placed in
Their belts are then fastened to prevent an escape
And that’s where the very strong will should take shape
Each competitor then stands in front of a judge
As long as he can trying so not to budge
Neither ferret nor man can be drunk or be drugged
And no underwear worn so your parts can be hugged
Pants must be loose so the ferrets can roam
From one leg to the other and their movement shown
Each ferret must have a full set of teeth
That have not been blunted or anyway sheathed
Ferrets have claws like very sharp pins
And teeth like a carpet tack that they can sink in
And ferrets are biters and you’ve got a pair
So your “tool” may be bitten and you better not care
Competitors can attempt from outside their pants
To dislodge a ferret that’s latched on by chance
The winner’s the guy that outlasts the rest
And stands there the longest in this little test
Scotland’s the country where this all began
And the record is held by a brave Scottish man
The record’s been set that will be hard to beat
Five hours 10 minutes and still on his feet
Unfortunately the sport’s been dying out
With PETA and others protesting the bout
But if you’re in Virginia, in Richmond next year
And go to the Highland Games there I hear
They may have a ferret or two up their sleeve
That you can insert in your pants I believe
And if you can just stand there for six hours or more
You can bring the world record right here to our shore
But first grab some loose pants and maybe a kitten
Practice with that getting use to being bitten
Work up to a cat and then up to two
That is exactly what I thought I’d do
Then I thought again and again then I thought
Can a lesson be learned before that lesson’s taught?
So I tried to imagine how a ferret would feel
Could I stand there a man without a girly squeal?
Would I be embarrassed or pass out from fright
And I thought and I thought and I thought that I might
So I’ll go on record, this sport’s not for me
But if you’re game to try it, that I’d go to see
Man, I remember the thrumming of that last bell of the school year.....
Like a prisoner being furloughed into the warm sun, buzzing of grasshoppers.
Field stickers burrowing into your ankles, joyfully, while you take the wrong way/long way
back.
The sound of whispering gold as your armplane wings dislodge future assaulters of ankles.
I always liked sighs in the summer.....those sweet drones were the tones of freedom.
In the distance you hear Shirley scream as Brad tells EVERYBODY she likes Ralph...
You knew you should be gettin' home, but, confound it, this one brief moment was yours.
Eternal.
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under
pressure.
To thwart it was to stop a tsunami with an umbrella.....ineffectual....unnoticed.
But, also vacant, was common sense; probably why I went Jake's way that day....
Oh, he was there, lurking...lying in wait for my almost clock-work arrival.
Many a day I had screamed a million insults at him as he chased me like Satan,
Hoping "today" wasn't the day he caught up with me.
His exhalations never sounded labored, as if he was letting me get ahead.....
But not today!!!!!.....I JUMP......He LUNGES......and his teeth gain purchase on my seat!!!!
However, I escape....My bottom, that much cooler than it was before and will probably be
later!
........................
.........
.....
...
Home.......... you see mom in the kitchen, drinking sun tea and waiting for you to arrive....
"So, How was school?"..."Uh, fine, I guess." "What did you learn today?"......."Uh, to never
underestimate the value of Gym Class!!"......"Well," she says, "if you took home economics,
you'd be able to fix up your pants before Dad gets home and sees your underwear!!"......
Parents NEVER respect an Adventurer's near-fatal exploits!!!
Now it’s Roethlisberger versus Rodgers
To escape sacks, they’ll have to be dodgers
Two very strong defenses
Big egos and pretenses
When the ball’s caught, they’ll try to dislodge her
There are only 60 minutes to play
But these games last four hours anyway
Referee calls disputed
Jeers from the crowd unmuted
But the instant replays will save the day
Entry for Royal Trevino's contest
Yours is a horrendous bother
I decode one side, you obfuscate another!
I twist and turn, twist and turn again
Fingers engrossed around your parts, another twist
extirpates the other side! My enthusiasm refuses to wane.
I warp your shifting visage, weave the obliterated wrist,
Only succeeding to dislodge several faces,
I continue defacing your six surfaces…
In my euphoric endeavors to somehow unwind,
The unfathomable thoughts in your wavering mind,
I take manifold cyclical turns, like a brisk walk in fog,
Your complex anonymity refuses to unclog!
My flirtatious advances, don’t inveigle your resolve?
Chances to demystify you, in vain I solve,
I stare at your complacent maze,
you’re smug, with a mystic gaze!
Still in downright disarray
my curiosity, undone by dismay,
You’re unfazed, as you obliviously recline
Further inquests, but you obstinately decline!
I scrupulously ingest your manual again,
And brace for another futile try,
Why am I so smitten, as if to ascertain
If afterward, you’ll still be awry!?
© Maverick Nyambu
Early start
East Coast Ferry Terminal;
Sleepy journey
Trip for two
Getaway spa resort;
Rest and recuperate
Mystic moments:
Retreat into void --
Battery recharging
To re-jig sense
Spur sensorial feel;
Find and anchor
Getaway mode
Three days of rest;
Tropical idyll
Sing a song
Joy floods again;
Refresh soiled templates
Doing nothing
Can heal you wholesome;
Empty cups need refill
So there you go:
Two lovers
Playing catchup
Take your trip,
Embrace emptiness;
Rest weary wiles
Here by this bench
Watch people passing;
Wit humours worry
Driver's hot seat:
Fast luxury car
Speeding away
Now for a pit stop
Mechanics of motion;
Preventive maintenance
Bus trip homewards
Observe fellow passengers;
Flashy mobile devices
We flood the bus
Private thoughts lurk;
Ready to unleash
Air-con bus ride
Morning masquerade;
Chameleons in-transit
Glare of morning
Sun in my eyes;
Drowsy dreamy crazy
Missing the point
Stray words dislodge;
Meaning decapitated
Drowsy movement
Blurry sensations;
Graveyard shift starts
Report and lodge
Complaint that cuts;
Fire a loose cannon
Moody mindset
Uneasy dawn;
Distant tremors
Exit the start
Enter the end;
Roundabout lurks
Highway song
Go fast within limits;
Speedy Gonzales!
Follow the signs:
Deliver me
From my slavery
Illumination saves
Ignorance and blame;
Choice rewards freedom
Morning story
Sleep put on hold;
Awareness now grooms
Leon Enriquez
25 Feb 2014
Singapore
THE OLD FARMSTEAD
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
So many sunsets since I last tread this lane
Stirring deep seeded emotions so hard to contain
I know it’s the same place where I grew
The old farmstead is far from what I knew
The house is sagging and in need of paint
The porch swing’s colors are chipped and faint
The porch steps creak as they did before
The pond in the yard, not there anymore
Once there were chickens and ducks abound
Weeds and clutter now cover the ground
The roof eaves are leaking, a somber sight
What happened to cause the this terrible plight
One by one we all left and went on our way
Then just two uncle Willie and aunt May
Willie passed away, a few years ago
Their little garden abandoned no one to sow
We’ve gathered here today to bid May “ bon voyage”
Her roots were set so deep no one could dislodge
I see my old friends it's such a surprise
Some have changed so little I still recognize
My cousin is here without his spouse
She’s critically ill and can’t leave the house
An old school chum made an arduous trek
To visit his old “Nana” and pay his respect
She looks so placid and finally at peace
She toiled long and hard,it’s a relief
She held us together for all these years
She handled it all without shedding tears
A simple pine box, so easy to lift
Her final journey painfully swift
There are six of us here to fill the bill
Go behind the house and up to the hill
Farmstead(2)
There are nine grave markers she’ll be ten
She’s the last one, then never again
Lowered by rope to her final abode
A part of the land she so often strode
This old house will soon be razed
Time will move to a different phase
A large combine will soon plant these fields
This rich loamy soil will give generous yields
The tragedy for me is that no one will know
The family adventure that made us glow
In a few years all will be lost
No one will know of the human cost
The only remnant that time will not kill
Are those ten little markers up on the hill
When memories are memories long-lost,
and when infancy's twilight hides what feels
like lifetimes in half-dreamt dreams, sleep storm-tossed
surrenders glimpses of childhood's ideals
now only half-remembered. It is these,
that I dislodge from my still obscure past
(existing despite the present's dis-ease),
before life as an outcast unsurpassed.
Like echoes from out of immortal time,
mnemonic ghosts appear and disappear;
and now are fixed in everlasting rhyme,
writ on earth under this celestial sphere.
And since upon remembrance of things past,
my late innocence returns at long last!
A body of translucent blue spreads before him,
reflecting heavens of stark purity.
He flicks his shiny offering towards depths unknown,
and cranks the oiled reel.
Time pours slowly,
as the reflective lure moves through crystal waters.
Again the motions transfix thought,
cast, retrieve, move, repeat.
Until abruptly, something strikes the silver flasher,
now the dance is on.
The light weight pole bends to unspoiled water,
as the luminescent trout hurls its body above the water’s surface.
The aquatic life’s attempt to dislodge the three pronged hook fails.
But fish and man have met stares.
The dance intensifies,
a run is made,
line is peeled from spool.
Deeper the fish plunges through roiled waters.
But he will tire,
and face his likely death.
He ceases his desperate struggle.
The distance between predator and prey withers.
The angler now reaches for his worthy prize.
He captures the weighty fish through jaw and gill,
and lifts his prey from liquid home.
He has acquired what he sought,
but he knows that he must not devour this mountain rarity.
Gently, the fish is revived in the cool water.
He is released, and the two part, not as enemies,
but as two strangers,
who met in the fading twilight of the evening rise.
A professor has published his thesis
On removal of impacted faeces
Use the end of a pencil
Or a kitchen utensil
to dislodge clumps of faeces in pieces!
Told you it was a crap poem!
05/14/20
Planet of unsettling decline
losing our swagger of firm footing
staggered by earth's vast pool of needy preservation.
To seek global rule to fix plastic shard oceans pushed from
a safety zone sustainable
to bring nature's biodiversity to healthy
to stop a virus that drains color from life
to free the elderly from weighty tears
to heal an urban drug lurch of self abasement
to widen narrow alleys of thought
to lift the knife edge danger of human dislocation
to starve a diet of misdirected war
to dislodge regimes of hefty monsters who rob
their people's freedom.
If I ruled our sphere we'd stop the "what if's" and just do
like re-inhabiting our streets to purge litter,
or to strive for self correction
nourished by new discovery
and love what we should be closer to.
Poem composed: August 19/2020
(Revised January 2, 2021)