Best Hold Off Poems
It's a nightmare down on Elm Street. Satan's waiting here at home.
Where's that little Freddy Krueger with his nails of sharpened chrome?
And that dearest Michael Myers, as he's always sure to call?
Halloween won't be so keen without some slashers in the hall.
They're all meeting up with Jason and the other demon spawn
to pay Old Scratch a visit, so I'll leave the porch light on.
I'm your sugar devil daddy and I'll tempt you if I can,
so now open up those goody bags, cause I'm your candy man.
Welcome, all you little zombies. Here, I've got some flesh for you!
It's in a candy wrapper and so much easier to chew.
Just hold out your plastic treat bag, and hold off eating me.
The junk I'm gonna give you tastes much better than my knee.
It's so loaded up with sugar, you'll be bouncing off the walls.
So go ahead and gorge yourselves and fill the bathroom stalls.
Kneel before the porcelain god or use the toilet sink.
You can always use the practice now, for later when you drink.
You can't take a piece of healthy fruit or any home-made treat.
The media have made damn sure it's only junk food that you'll eat.
So celebrate my holiday and consume till it's obscene.
Welcome into my domain... and Happy Halloween!
October 15, 2014
Act 2, Scene 4.
The Salisbury plain. Within a henge, a watchfire burns. The Seer approaches The Seeker.
Take heed, my friend, our part in cosmic cheat
Plays on; below the stage the truth lies quite.
Hold off the blazing sun's firstfound deceit,
Trust only in the filtered lunar light.
Maids long for wifely pleasure while wives cry
For their lost maidenhood, each of a date
They'd cast away; while Fate presides on high,
With ever laughing countenance it waits.
Mere mortal men lie dreaming all bewitched;
They ken not of the ruse nor hollow fake
Which gods employ on them, their eyes bestitched,
Awash in hope shown false if they would wake.
Unknowing we are born, Illusion's tide
A ceaseless pull, until the great divide.
It's a time to pack away your sad face,
And slow down the race,
To a walking pace.
It's time to remember the good life,
Put away your knife,
And do something nice.
It's time to play your part,
By showing you have a heart,
So, others won't depart.
It's time to hold off on the advice,
And with your cooking entice,
All but the mice.
It's time to be a good elf,
Not think of yourself,
And come down off the shelf.
It's time to spread some joy around your neighborhood,
Even with the local hood,
It could do you both some good.
"I'd bet on Someone Just Like Me", the lovely stranger said.
"I know the odds are long, but I just have this lucky feeling!"
The bookies gave a 10 to 1 for her prized thoroughbred,
I knew the odds for Reader Of The Stars were more appealing.
I placed my bet, the race began, my horse led out and out,
He passed by Harry Trotter, and had Hay Girl on the run,
He'd hold off Maple Stirrup, and beat Princess Peach, no doubt
But then, as though she'd seen a crystal ball, her longshot won!
Just like her odds, my hopes seemed dim in searching for a wife.
I hoped that lovely stranger at the track might be my honey -
The lucky day I'd longed for she would enter in my life?
I looked - the woman of my dreams was gone, just like my money.
Written 7 Sep 2020
Phrases in Bold are required by the contest
Mid-Summer Rain
The warm sun rises
to take the fleeting life
of the morning dew.
The blazing sun makes
the red horizon laugh
by spreading its
dazzling white radiance.
The sizzling sun bathes
the folks in sweat
as they run and exercise
on the sidewalks and parks.
The fierce sun embraces
and scorches the skin
of the outside laborers.
Summer is the whining
of the boiling sweat, or
the restless lamentation
of the electric fans?
As I was ploughing through
this mid-summer’s lap and
yearning for some cool breeze,
A wind blew, a thunder was heard,
One drop, many drops,
you came pitter patter,
with the smell of fresh soil,
Oh my mid-summer rain!
I cannot stop gazing
at your dancing beauty.
As you slide down,
Caressing the tree leaves,
This fire-baked Earth
chilled in salvation
so my body and soul!
Come often to wipe off the sweat
and to wash away the grime.
Come often to dampen the dryness
and to hold off the drought.
Come often and often,
Oh my mid-summer rain!
My longing lips~
shriveled by the saffron sun
waiting for your summer kisses
were like ivory jasmine
waiting for a drop of rain
to land on her petite petals.
Ah, to kiss you once again
how could I hold off?
The first delicate drop
of summer rain was sweet~
as sweet as your rosy lips
engulfing mine~
making me live again
amidst scorching light
making August
a summer splendour.
Now it's September
but still I feel
the warm ember
as I watch birds fly
in the early autumn sky
imagining your sophic silhouette
meeting mine~
in the afterglow of day.
5 September 2020
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(3) any theme any form
Contest Judged: 9/4/2020 9:34:00 PM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
1st place
Quite a lot we ask of our selves
as we try to up hold these principles
but this is what it_ life has come to for us
we delay so many things
and hold off twice as much
But this life this life
is a short timeline.
I say live now
don't regret it later
wishing you had done this
wishing you had done that
wishing you had lived
wishing you had time
More time to do all those things you loved
but never did
Willing to will but willing not.
We are considered adults at 18
yet we don't get our lives until 25
Many a time we date till 30
But more often than most
still end up single or unmarried and worried.
Life is a choice
let us choose each day
to be happy
to love
to cherish that which we have
before we hunger for that which we don't yet have.
let us choose not to be perfect
for that's who we are are (perfectly imperfect).
Let us choose not to worry much
let us have our lunch and brunch
Let us choose to seat back and slouch
the moon and sun to watch
and to the humming birds to listen
Let us choose to have fun
let us like wind choose to run
let us choose to fall
to fall in love with ourselves
unemployed and unmarried
educated or uneducated
rich or poor
the thing is for sure
We all deserve a happiness that's pure.
Choose to be happy
choose happy.
There's a tornado called pain
That comes to destroy me
A hurricane called lies
To knock me off my feet
Thunderstorms called misery
Trying to take a hold off me
Rains called evil
That tries to consume me
But...
There is the sun called happy
To show me
I'm still standing....
All aboard the Fantasy M/S of Carnival
for half a week’s vacation time of fun and falderal.
Hear greetings from your captain, his director and the crew.
Ready, set, get going. The Bahamas wait for you.
Bon Voyage! There’s Reggae music playing on the Lido.
Dinner is at 6 or 8. Hold off on that tuxedo!
You could eat a pizza by the Windows On the Sea
or go beneath to dine on shrimp and meet the maitre d’.
Gamble or see comedy; reflect upon the ocean.
Late to bed; relax your head; sense the soothing motion.
Rise and shine in Freeport where the ship will dock all day.
You can disembark to take a tour, or you can stay.
On board the ship, take a dip; lounge or dance Calypso.
Get yourself massaged; work out, shop or play some bingo.
All day long, you can find folks doing funny things
like contests for the men with hairy chests or knobby knees.
Day two when you waken, you will be in Nassau.
There’s stuff for everyone, from your kiddies to your grandma!
Little ones may stay behind. Folks will entertain them,
or the kids can tag along with the adults. No problem!
If you like adventure, visit lovely Blue Lagoon.
For snorkeling with sting rays, the boat leaves right at noon.
You can pet some dolphins, but extra you should pay
if you want to swim with them. That’s one special day.
In town you might be nabbed by a plaza beautician.
Getting braids is all the rage, so people get their hair done.
Get back to the gangway before the ship sets sail.
If you‘re still not having fun, you must be a door nail!
“Day at Sea” arrives as your trip is winding down,
And the biggest night is coming; women wear a gown!
That final evening dining perhaps with a new friend,
you’ll wish instead of ending, it were starting all again.
Gals and guys with braided scalps; everyone looks nice.
Ah, that midnight feast with pretty sculptures carved in ice.
The ultimate for leisure if you’re after more than snoozing’.
In the laid-back natives lingo: “Mon, you best be cruising!”
NOTE: (this describes a vacation I took about 12 years ago, my first
and probably last cruise ever, unless I come into money. haha.
I'd seen Europe in my youth but as vacations go,this truly was
the best one.)
For Carol Brown's Contest: "It's Time for a Vacation"
It's January
and no snowflakes anywhere!
Sad boy, where did winter go?
Mad for the delay?
He must be sleeping somewhere!
Run, run and wake him up, bro!
Hurry boy, find him;
he is snoring very hard!
Slap him, don't be gentle;
sleep can't keep him trim!
Shake him up, he's not a bard;
he's a lamb and will tremble!
He'll make a raw deal
for two bottles of good gin,
and hold off tons of bright snow!
The lad brought a creel;
he will get him drunk and win!
Wake up, chump! Black ravens crow!
,
The children always part their ways when they grow. Not because they don't love parents but because they feel no body understands them. They can't get over their emotions, they can't see what they have yet not imagined.
A parent knows the behavior isn't a mistreat, it is just that s/he is drowning in emotions. May what happen a parent can't leave, coz this is the time when the child really needs them.
A promise that a parent always keeps:
When the pearl is floating upon salty water.
I shall be there before it dribbles down.
When ever a spark is triggering the axon.
I shall be there to stifle before destruction.
When faults come crawling to tremble.
I shall be there to clasp and embrace.
When the star of hope is conking out.
I shall be there to lay hold of.
When the forlorn creeper is longing for support.
I shall be there till the last drop of blood.
When walking through the mist in dense dark forest.
I shall be there to pave the way n make sure that nothing bothers.
When Shying away in the eclipse.
I shall be there to remove obstruction to see you gleaming like the Sun .
When the regret pours down like rain.
I shall be there to jump beside in puddle n make the sorrow faint.
WORD REFERENCE :
Dribbles : To move downwards in a thin flow
Axon: Nerve fibre that conducts electrical impulses
Stifle: To stop something happening
Faults : Cracks in the earth's crust along which there is movement.
Tremble: Shake in fear
Clasp: A firm hold with the hands or arms.
Lay hold off: To hold
Forlorn: Not cared for
Conk out: Completely lose functionality.
As we traveled along in our horse and buggy
The air smelled heavy with dew
Our horses were tired and hungry
And most of us were too
We only have a days travel at least
we might as well rest for a bit
So I set up camp by this covered bridge
and decided to have a sit
My bread and dried meat tasted bland
so I washed it down with some mead
Set up my bed, and unpacked my things
fell asleep in the summer heat
I awoke to some movement off in the woods
was my mind just playing games
i heard nothing more, so I laid my head
fell asleep to the crackling flames
The fog became dense, much too thick to see
A scream shattered through the night
i grabbed my things, pulled sword to hand
running, ready for a fight
I heard the clash of steel ring through the air
the smell of battle on the rise
I met the enemy head on
screaming bloody battle cries
Casting soldier after soldier down to the ground
I heard their grunts and moans
Taking them down quickly
Before their brothers hear their groans
But there were just too many to hold off
The bodies were starting to pile
So I grabbed a few guys
and got every women and child
We ran down the road to the Covered Bridge
and hid down in the ravine
We heard the horses hoofs overhead
and we were never seen
Once we created starry nights,
and Mona Lisa with smile slight,
we covered chapels in heavenly scenes,
made David shine in marble sheen.
Now our 'art' make good folks scoff,
smear **** on paper, then sell it off,
mistaken for garbage, devoid of heart;
we need more beauty in our art.
Once our buildings truly soared,
steeples with stained-glass adored,
turrets, gargoyles, and balustrades,
reliefs and sculptures finely made.
Now it’s post-modern eye-sores,
and Brutalist crap that folks abhor,
Le Corbusier-made ugly things;
we need more beauty in our buildings.
Our music once humbled the gods,
here Mozart and Beethoven trod,
here genres rose out of the dust,
symphonies of sorrow, love, and loss.
Now it’s all the same damn chords,
sung by fools who write no words,
thuggish rap and pop too slick;
we need more beauty in our music.
Once we lived by honored codes,
built by lessons learned of woe,
forged by endless, bloody years,
forged to hold off bitter tears.
Now it’s all relativistic games,
we hate the wise, praise the insane,
but amoral words bring costs untold;
we need more beauty in our souls.
Some wish that beauty did not exist,
the mediocre, the bitter, the Marxist.
They praise the brutal as progress,
they claim the talented ‘oppress.’
These types made nothing glorious,
and have no care for such as us,
for beauty they care not a whit,
but we need beauty, so let’s go make it.
Ending moonshine
We shall linger in the silence of the darkest of
nights
Here, where we hear no whispers in the mist and the wind,
Still a pilot looks beyond western skies
To where the moon is full and red,
But calm are the emotions held inside
While she waits for the passing of night
Budapest seems far from Bangladesh, too far like the eye from the heart,
Yet the moon and stars shine lucent beams
Into the darkness that is bathed in shadows
By the rays from kingdom come,
But to her remains a gloom of night
And the calm of evermore
Idol songs are bequest to her ears
When obscure is this early twilight,
And take note of sounds when minuets expire
And wind blows away the night,
But at what shall look when our moon appears
To hold off the early light
Buried in the silence did wake the day
Cluttered by whispers of a dying night,
But listen, now deep in the mist of morn
Lays abandoned her silken veil
Beneath the ascending sun
By M.Norton
marklnorton@shaw.ca
It was so large
The New York Barge
If you wish to see
The Statue of Liberty
You board the boat
And away you float
My ornery friend
(Lifelong-till the end)
Refused to board the barge
It was packed and looked large
So I took a bandana
Blindfolded Marianna
Led my ornery pal
To the mid-ship locale
She protested ardently
I reassured her cheerfully
Made it to the island
But I had to hold her hand
As we climbed to the top
Oh my, what a drop
This was the only way
Her fears I could allay
Marianna felt proud
She’d made it through the crowd
But to this very day
She scowls at me in play
Whenever I mention
Our New York vacation
Her fear of the sea
Seems now gone, you see
But I’ll hold off on buying a cruise
Because my dear friend I would lose
To this day she’s ornery
But she’ll never be ordinary
*Entry for Carol Browns Ornery Best Friends contest. True story.