Best Escrow Poems
This love, enduring - ballast of the soul
is ever curing, thee to mine, not role,
but a clear stream of commonplace, of knoll,
that not division's grinding can control!
Heart spoken, not then of some earthly toll,
life's emptying - its prisons, its extol
is neither weight's dissension or escrow,
that carrying as to mention, only know.
Love's ballast - risen, tempered - Godly show
is faith within, the inner mind's re-vow
does save, and then does throw away the dole,
while joy of true love, living is enow!
Nature's, anesthetizing beauty held
tightly in escrow
'Til on tendered form its heavenly
charm can bestow
Fair maiden strides through
manicured meadow
In her lovely essence, the enchanted
flora doth wallow
Overhead, azure canvas paints a
regal halo
Her satin cheeks radiant in Helios's
afterglow
Beneath, green clover spreads its
downy pillow
Her dainty feet tenderly the svelte
blades furrow
Lilac strands their fragrant
essence strew
As her ebony locks in soothing
breeze flow
White, silken lillies fringe the
bristling undertow
Roon paps gild voluptuous, damsel's,
milky tallow
Twirling dandelions their feathery
dander billow
Maiden's silted bosom takes a
respite under fawning willow
Creamy buttercups in the noonday
heat their hearth's mellow
In their steamy shadow, frothy
maiden spreads her umbrella
.
After the world has bottomed you up
like a brown bag, no label wine.
All. Day. Long.
Plopping your worn glass,
empty, on a Whirlpool cardboard box...
Absorbing, drying
all once-upon-a-time, 'Made In China',
condo-walled dreams.
Your buddy, 'Thunderbird', twitches whiskers
over glistening gutter teeth.
Dandelions in cement cracks.
Ah, life is good. Sleep peacefully.
No mortgage. No rent.
The morning brings a full glass
to hold you in escrow...
For Torquemadas
Of the World.
.
Santa lost his “NAUGHTY or NICE” list this year,
What happened to the helpful elves he hired?
Which SPOILED children will exuberate in cheer,
which one of his elves will ultimately be fired?
What kind of devised SCHEME has transpired?
So many questions with unknown facts,
Who is responsible for this eradication?
Maybe Santa should go and trace his tracks,
This could cause SEVERE annihilation!
This could be Christmas’s expiration!
What if lil’ Sally DESERVED that pottery bowl,
or needed a new pair of school shoes?
But then poor Sally ended up getting coal,
and was left stuck in the sad blues.
Why does she get to be the one to lose?
Then there’s Johnny so selfish with pride,
on the NAUGHTY list every year since birth-
Do you really think he’d feel guilty inside
if he received what was Sally’s worth?
Oh, I bet he’d be full of joy and mirth!
What’s with the mix up, this whole fiasco!?!
What will happen to all the kids so nice?
Nick’s dad DOESN'T deserve that escrow,
man Santa, you’re treading on thin ice!
The good girls and boys shouldn’t sacrifice!
What’s that you say, speak once more?
Rudolph ATE the list out of fear?
Oh, he was on the naughty list before,
and wanted more carrots in his stocking this year.
Santa, he’s nothin’ but a...
BROWN-NOSED REINDEER!
CHRISTMAS RHYMES
Kim Rodrigues
December 4, 2017
I’m not certain when it happens.
When the high fidelity stereo of a youthful past
Drowns in the monophonic static of tomorrow’s responsibilities.
When cowboys and indians or cops and robbers
Become traffic tickets and the politically correct, Native Americans.
When the king of the castle ends up under a mortgage and tax escrow
Owned by bank and government alike for standing strong on a playground boulder.
When the real fear of catching cooties from the girls at recess
Gives way to the real fear of catching cooties from girls in your bedroom.
But it invariably does.
You wake up and notice something interesting about mirrors.
Your reflection isn’t there anymore.
That person doesn’t know that fruity pebbles taste better than bran flakes.
That pens and pencils are made for drawing, not writing checks.
And crayons are better still.
That person has forgotten that mornings are to be celebrated
And bedtime is another way of spelling tantrum time.
That person is a grown up.
And certainly, that person isn’t you.
Are they?
04/24/15
by Michaelw1two
Thought, how resounding it is,
now that everyone is thinking
mentation drums as mantra,
at once each considers linking
reason deemed illogical,
blessed now with national rethinking
purpose gathered within this storm,
save our lives from sinking.
Political misdirection's blind US,
to the nature of this assault
improprieties pervade the eye,
as it strengthens through default
weaken do the knees of all,
as guile and greed reign to a fault
freedom bled of denotation,
becomes a society’s burial vault.
Dedication to the sphere of peace,
abandons favor of our time
replacing is freedom's abdomen,
ruining goodwill whilst in its prime
boasting blubbering fuels the wind,
infuriating is its rapid climb
rhetoric barbs of poison fear,
drive weak minds to morbid crimes.
Echoes of peace, goodwill, morality,
vanish in this swirling beast
accrue does this wickedness,
as we are whipped until deceased
social clime succumbs to hate,
common people soon are fleeced
timorousness rules the moment,
result, the best become the least.
Asleep have become the masses,
as the few control life’s flow
living sliced to minimal pieces,
at once in chorus all say whoa!
condones in wild shrieking howls,
even life can’t clear escrow
extinction now approaching,
our doom delivered quid pro quo.
Jan 2010
KILLED BY GI JOE
No now longer do feel low
Tide started coming in slow
And could feel its flow.
Seeds we had planted below
Sprang up and started to grow
Party we did through.
What was now in our escrow
Which one was a lot of dough
Ain't there anymo'.
I next wondered to and fro
Had became her handsome boo
Off then I did show.
Greeted great face which would glow
Together will always go
No longer eat crow.
Found myself fighting each foe
Was to become a big blow
Killed by GI Joe.
After reading a confessional
GI was not gastro-intestinal
This is bunch of bull.
Government Issue (GI) of course.
This is Seven seven five style
Horn haiku to enjoy for a while.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Azure streams silted with cotton bows
Green, svelte carpet spreads below
Silken florets on tawny branches glow
Yellow daffodils cloak the meadow row
Purple violets' royal fabric vaunted hills hallow
On servile plain, feathery dandelions spread umbrella
Along hedge rows, creamy honeysuckles with sweet dew flow
In dense, brown brush; fledgling chicks from saffron gapes bellow
On the forest floor; jittery, gray squirrels deplete nutty escrow
quinzaines
She dreads the trips to Shiloh.
Does God even hear?
Does He care?”
The man cares for her deeply.
“Is not my love more
than ten sons?”
Her rival pokes injury.
“Woman, what is wrong,
arms still bare?”
With zeal she reshapes her plea.
Can God sense hidden
intentions?
The priest faults her great distress,
“Must you come here drunk
with your prayer?”
***
Hannah’s praise song is vic’try.
Dare we to pray it
and believe?
First baby is relinquished.
Did a vow cause her
faith to grow?
This child was destined to win.
Would he have triumphed
at her knee?
God gave her five more children
Can you see them all
at Shiloh?
Hannah restructured her prayers.
What does Jehovah
want from me?
This change made all the diff’rence.
What is God holding
in escrow?
written March 22, 2013
No Happiness Here Either
She loves me, she love me not, knots
As he picked the petals of her heart
Why the cold chill your heart sought
Your petals cold, damming my start
A river of tears cries from the sky
Mine, forever a rainbow lost a pot of gold
You, a commodity richer to my eye
Than blossoms of bosoms a smile behold
On your surface I lie in your meadow
Wandering sweet dreams held in lost escrow
connie pachecho
8/5/17
Winter's icy streams funnel low
Frosty beams on pine needles
glow
A menacing wind seeps
through thatched window
Below, fibrous carpet cloaked
with satin plateau
Snowy wood with furry dander
doth flow
Mule deer nestle with fatty
reserves in tow
Wild boars root 'neath the
milky tallow
Red foxes scavenge for prey
along the hedgerow
Pensive hares prat through the
silken meadow
Black bears take shelter in
sleepy hollow
Sparring woodchucks bristle in
the frothy undertow
Spotted owls reconnoiter each
frozen crevice, sealed burrow
Orange-breasted sparrows
their winter anthem bellow
Jittery squirrels scurry about
searching for nutty escrow
Today’s Short Poem
Miracle Man
6/12/2022
Into words, my innermost thoughts oft flow,
while some are held hostage in word escrow.
For words, once I’ve spoken, cant be retrieved,
So I cautiously speak leaving no one peeved.
The souvenirs of love from long ago
are weighing heavy on my mind tonight;
my memories of when our love would glow
with fire and passion and the world seemed bright.
The newness of our union did create
the souvenirs of love from long ago
which now leaves my doubtful mind to debate
the failures made, and things I do not know.
Your abrupt departure was such a blow,
and leaving now my sad heart broken, and
the souvenirs of love from long ago
reminders of our life together planned.
I ask you why you threw our love away,
and left my heart pending in life’s escrow;
forever doubtful is my mind to weigh
the souvenirs of love from long ago.
January 25, 2018
Contest: One in Five
Sponsor: Joseph May
Graceful predator perched on the precipice of woe
Your satin crown, ebony feathers cannot camouflage mision of misery you'll sow
Your balmy wings caress as dark shadows grow
You sharpen your talons lethal grasp your helpless prey to show
But only quicken the hearts of foragers nestled below
Shrill call does not alarm wary prey; only emboldened, novel defenses bestow
Slower prey their extended units disband; bountiful feast now in escrow
Stealthy ears pick up the feigned, stressful calls of dispossessed lying low
The harried remnant recedes into veiled canopy with their cargo
Confident dive bomber, you plunge into the shielded canopy mayhem to strew
Only to have pleated wings torn by thistle, thorn guarding the undertow
Injured, but deadly weapons your armada still doth tow
With sharp beak you shred the stragglers who venture into twilight's afterglow
With bristling talons you scratch and claw causing stiffened backs to bow
But their desire to live trumps marauding havoc laid in stow
Shorn of limb but not of hope, scurrying from nest to nest to and fro
Storm clouds gather over Dover cliffs; thunderous chorus from nest doth bellow
On the sparring range, a docile, prevailing wind no longer doth blow
Wearied from long chase, depleted eagle from bleeding strand doth go
When the wind blows across the meadow
And the tops of the flowers in waves
Of three syllables deposit to escrow
The name of my bluebird to save
She's not mine at the moment to access
But my time collects interest and grows
'Til the day I can withdraw my earnings
On that day to her then will propose