Best Hurly Burly Poems
Pressed firmly a shoulder against brick wall
Arms that are folded and feeling quite tall
A hurly burly of a lazy man
Only works if he has to or can
Frustrated waiting for the big check
Drank the last one quickly red neck
They only come once upon time
Delusional angry and outside so I'm
In and out my mind does wonder
Try to control the other guy under
No money for meds and mad hatter is he
Unpredictable this matter will be
Hoisting two sacks the postman will meet
But which one of us uncertain the greet
Passing me by with no check in hand
Off the stoop on postman he land
Franticly struggling to loosen the strap
Harder and tighter the handle did rap
Doesn't take long the postman is limp
It's back to me the original wimp
I don't understand the reason for action
This guy was good during every transaction
You'll never know by meeting us guys
But we'll see you through these killer eyes
Egal your hurly-burly city,
Egal your stress bureaucracy;
Saturday I shall visit my garden,
Where I will bury all your plights
Like a slough snake long forgotten.
There await me rosy welcome
From my carnation and dafodil,
The sweet aroma of my lavender;
I shall kiss the beautiful stair of petals
Build by my darling ginger and tulip.
The quietude of my garden:
Dousing rain after a scorching heat,
Shall redeem me from your torture,
The amusement from the squirrels
Shall restore smile onto my face;
Under the robust cherry tree
I shall journey to the mount of thought.
And when the heavenly beam decends
To honour our weekly appointment
Like sky I will spread out my picnic mat,
Delight it with Andrea, Nette, Donna’s poems;
I will turn left and right, allowing it
To caress the gradient of my hips.
When my guest turns westward
Then I will bless all my darlings;
I will baptise them with heavenly dew
Anoint their feet with brown-black powder
And cast out any demon perching on them.
Hoping you that wolf will roar? Egal !
I shall not think of your sausage,
Your meatpie will not come to mind;
Above my head are young breast apples,
Mangoes and banana are at alert
Ready to arrest any roaring wolf.
Egal your hurly-burly city,
Egal your stress bureaucracy;
Saturday I shall visit my garden.
In the purple smoky collaged sky
The birds swam home
on flaky water colours,
carrying his rainy perfume.
I prayed for this one night
He would evenly spray my garden,
Without the rumbling accompaniment
Of his hurly burly friend flashing
nightmarish psychedelic lights, but let
Little Sue dream with her angels in peace.
Balveen Cheema
September 15, 2015
Contest: Mixed Senses
Toipic: Evening
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Meandering memories
move through my mind
like a river flowing
to the salty sea.
Limbs stretch lazily
reaching skywards
like the gangling
branches of an ancient tree.
Standing still in
the solitude of
suspended time;
lazily picking flowers,
the hours melt away
as I daydream in
the field of fantasy.
Flicking fancy fecklessly.
The rasping of the siren
in the run of the mill
over the hill startles me
and I am roughly returned
to normality, garishly.
The harsh light of day
refracts its neon rays;
stinging rays destroying
delicious serenity.
Daydream done I am returned
to Hurly Burly Street,
and the hurrying feet
running the relentless human race.
Individuality lost
without a trace in the
salty sea of faces;
fixed expressions as they
cling on to the roof strap
in the hurtling underground
mundane. Multitasking.
Lost in the murky flow
of commuter traffic
which has become their life.
Set me free again to daydream.
Release from the race of rats
we unintentionally run.
I find some fun discarded
in an overflowing bin
and sneak it into my pocket.
Around my neck a locket
containing happiness
and daydreams .....
O yes, Ukraine and Russia
almost one nation and country
and close relates
much more that others people and nations
around the world,
originated from one African woman,
had lived 160 thousands years ago.
Yes we are all close relates.
and among them who much closer
then more hates each others - mersilless and fatally -
as Russia and Ukraine.
One of them doing
the best and other the worst
things in vast Eurasia.
Oksana treat to be a just honest divchina, nice girl,
belong to European code and culture
while the Masha, so also very nice girl,
tied and stiffened with oprichnina, the intelligent servises
backing sovereign cleptocrasy
of states of thefts, raptors and vultures
and other post-soviet and post-imperial hurly-burly,s and cleptocrats
prodused by historical hellish mistakes and anachronism.
escaping from justice and condemnation.
So the face of truly Russian
is the face of nascent Ukraine
and success of the last would been
the excellent medicine
for the first,s imperial illness and pain.
Would you still love Me, my honey sweet dear?
If The nectar of honey seized its eternal drops
Would there still be hope for you to love Me?
Oh my my, not is it late nor too early
If the moon came down to earth
And talked to us eye in eye,
Would you still love Me,
Would you still be mine?
Love me from your heart,
Love me under the covers.
Love me in the orchard of the lovely lovers.
The hurly burly and the jarring rumble of the earth
For as time sweeps us off our feet
My passion shall grow larger and larger
Day by day.
You are my passion.
Day, night, I only dream.
Let no one come between us
For that is my greatest fear.
Would you still love Me?
Oh dear love,
With eyes as sweet as scintillating waters.
Do not be punitive,
I am not worthy for a tort.
Rather I am worthy for all the torts in the world
If it means that i shall rejoice with your love.
We'd snuggle together warm on the nights cold and frozen
But id deliver your cheeks with a warm little gift.
To physically express my feelings would be intimidating,
But i know for a fact that you are a very romantic person on the inside.
But if time turns late,
If we skip the clocks.
If the skies stop to illuminate,
If the horses gallop by?
Let us not live the lives of mayflies.
Oh, I love you excruciatingly!
Feelings are hard to describe,
I am not a variable in love.
Nor do I know much about love,
But i know that I can't hold back the resistance
To meet those lips and hold on for a long, very long time.
A very long time.
Goodnight my love,
I wonder if you'll be mine.
What if we don't?
Do you even know Me?
I know You.
So my love,
My dear dear love.
Who's eyes scintillate like the waters.
Would you wish to be mine,
Would you still love Me?
Would you still love to be mine?
1.
I think love be quite fastidious
With a priggish clear intent
To fester hurly burly
On whom it should torment.
One thing is absolute...
'Tis that and that shall be.
Love's rudimentary motivation
Be to source my misery.
The End
2.
If ignorance be bliss, and
Foolishness the coinage of the realm.
'Tis dark the days that fade away
With an unknown spectre at the helm.
As we trundle through the shadows
Where pride and arrogance oft compete.
Portion out a spat of hubris and naivete...
Thus our abasement be complete.
The End
3.
A child may fear its shadow
And the perturbations in their head.
They dread the midnight poltergeist
Lurking menacingly beneath their bed.
They may fret about a spelling test
And abhor the dimming light.
They tremble at the boogeyman
Who torments them late at night.
The fear that haunts them most of all.
The fear that shakes them to their core.
'Tis the monster they both love and hate...
Outside their bedroom door.
The End
* Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your uncle.
Twisting up my body emboldened
Hyping my spirit to Planet 9
Thrusting gently my soul to an off beat
Jerking up my feet in no fete
Throwing hands in the air
Moving my carcass to an unheard hurly-burly
Heaping up dance on my hips
Humming to a tune of no name
Shaking ones head like an Agama.
Until my Fibula was aching
I became hyper-active
For what, I queried myself?
For a dance of no tune
Indeed a Fandango only of the Spaniard.
This time in Samonda, Ibadan.
In my quest to situate the 46 years
Independence Anniversary of Nigeria.
We are dancing to no tune in particular.
Let’s go, dear, to live together
and we should look eventually
what happen with such decision,
certainly we are growing fast older and downgraded
going to end, my sugar candy,
but we have been together,
that s sound finely, doesn’t?
So let’s keep living together.
No one warranted
what happened from such idea:
would we live in peace and harmony
or our life have been hurly-burly,
the whole one endless cacophony,
maybe we are both drown
with tsunami of troubles and problems
or we shall find way for harbor
our safety and harmony,
or our ship will moved to divorcee
and fighting for shearing joint collecting property.
No one know answers for that hellish questions
and predict future possibilities and revelation
in all its damned variations,
maybe love will thousand times cursing
and regretting and lamenting
for this occasion and acceptance
of long waiting meeting, suggestion and dance.
But let’s keep living together
right now and without any postponing
traying never miss each other’s
and we are looking for what’s happened later,
growing older and downgrade
but we have been live with you together
my dear sugar candy,
let’s, please, living forever.
When surrounded by gray fences
In moments of stark empty hours
Amidst anginal clouds of thought
Compulsion to crawl into cave
I suffocate and grope for you
My lovely blue...
When in the midst of brawl and shriek
I am robbed of my water and sky
Am lost in the hurly burly of my mind
The boat almost sinks in rough sea
I pray for a peace as quiet as you
My tranquil blue......
When I am in lonely soul
The birds are in quest of feathers
The skeleton stares me in the face
The light confined to its darkness shroud
I am in deep need to pursue
Your friendly hue, my warm blue....
------------------------------------------------
29 February 2016
In the hurly burly of modern life,
Which is a long and painful strife,
Fighting against all odds of time
Rampant here all sorts of crime.
Redden’d with greed eyes fall no tear
Of law or God’s fury he has no fear
Heart writhes in the pool of blood
Emotions lost in the sway of flood.
No help, or rescue for the poor soul
Grabbing undue gain is one’s goal
Feeling and sympathy are all gone
Eden of humanity and hatred has grown.
Everybody is mad with so much power
Divine interference is the need of hour
Vice deadening the goodness of heart
For fear of evils,values,virtues depart.
BHASKARANAND JHA
Herod’s Debt
Ive marked ye, clown!
out of tha pack.
Took the solitary road
be bold I whispered.....
“Would not a score of weasels,
beg a rotten tooth, from ya gape?”
So, Herod ye stand watching always the sharpening of a sword.
That cut, severed the Baptist`s head.
But afore all that luscious gore ta business!
Herod ye owe me, don’t dare deny
mine taste fer vengence .
Oh! em holy inocents,
remember .... aye take yer time,
when ya hurly burly soldiers slew, all em first born sons of tha Jew.
Oh! ear em mothers wail
I paid fer that in banishment.
So through the darkness doust I crawl
now Herod hear, the knocking at tha door.
Did I not give unto ye Herodias ya brothers wife?
Wasn’t she tha bitter queen, and played tha part of tha joker’s tart.
Whose daughter Salome, danced danced entranced ye.
So arrives on silver platter, mine prize mine desire.
Tha prophet`s head
none more richly honoured such as you
who imprisoned, tortured murdered tha Jew.
But now oh` Herod, ta tha counting room.
In heavenly chains wilt drag.
Remember remember thine debt ta me !
fer, ta parley, dabble, bibble , babble with a devil.
unto tha abyss I cast ye. Begone!......
Like a picture frame encasing the beauty of the ocean,
the moving curtains wafted by the breeze,
the waters sparkle and blue skies enhance the view.
We found a piece of paradise in this haven of peace.
A well needed rest from the hurly burly of our busy lives.
Time is slower here, the air is clear and we can breathe again.
The palm outside the window waves to the glistening sea
and brightly coloured birds add to the perfect palette of creation.
The window like a picture frame depicting utopia.
gaunt ghost jolting
lusty lurch fermenting
felon higgledy-piggledy fostering
busted hurly-burly blistering
hoisted emotions hankering
strife strove, surging
damped death drooling
after ghost galloping
scared fate sobbing
at mystic margin:
pulpy pace shrinking
death met banshee
callous war's conceived
death feigning defeat.
19:12:12:08:56
Mashed potatoes, turkey and stuffing,
apple , pumpkin pie, the parade winds puffing
and Santa Claus will soon come,
a day of football, relaxing for some
others hurry baking and pressure cooking
while children stealing treats when no one is looking
and lovers are canoodling as coffee is brewing
with a prayer, a toast, a glass of wine
what a wonderful time.
Here it comes, be careful now
resist the temptation to hurry out
do a little gift prep early
of treasured sales in the hurly-burly
wait, before the season starts popping
and stores galore are open early for shopping;
take this time to embrace the gathering
of time and experiences shared in jabbering.
Thanksgiving for family and friends
get-togethers, laughter and memories on end
take a picture, two or three
of recall for the family tree
of good times, tears
and wonder at the quickness of passing years
hold it close, hold it tight
before these precious dreams take flight.