Best Incubated Poems
One
Chloee? Yes Reginald!
Why do they call us Dachshunds, Wiener Dogs?
Maybe they call you a Wiener Reginald!
You cut me off at the legs with that one Chloee!
Two
Chloee? Yes Reginald! Have you ever smelled mothballs.
No Reginald it's too difficult to spread their tiny legs.
My that was a low blow Chloee. You wish Reginald, you wish!
Three
Reginald? Yes Chloee! I was at the park with my owner playing
Frisbee. As I watched the Frisbee I wondered why it was getting
bigger and bigger as it came towards me than it hit me.
Four
Chloee? Yes Reginald!
I was just lying down in the park the other day watching a Labrador
chasing his tail an' I thought ain't that amazing how easily amused
Labradors are! Then I realized I was watching the Labrador chase his tail.
Five
Reginald? Yes Chloee! I've written a poem it goes like this.
"Roses are red. Violets are blue. Some poems rhyme. And some don't!"
Six
Chloee? Yes Reginald! I was at a restaurant, I ordered a chicken sandwich,
but I don’t think the waitress understood me. Because she said,
“How would you like your eggs?” So I tried to answer her anyhow. I said,
“Incubated! And then raised, and then beheaded, and then plucked,
and then cut up, and then put onto a grill, and then put onto a bun.
Damn! It’s gonna take a while. I don’t have time. Scrambled!”
The Finale
A Dachshund walks under a bar. I mean walks into a bar. Goes to the
bar and sits down. Asks the bartender "can I have a Budweiser Light
Beer" the bartender serves him and informs him "that will be seven dollars".
The Dachshund pays. The bartender keeps looking at the Dachshund.
Finally the Dachshund yells "What?" The bartender explains "no I'm
sorry we just never get Dachshunds in this bar." The Dachshund replies
"I'm not surprised...at seven dollars for a beer..."
The Encore
Reginald? Yes Chloee! When you cut your nails, do you file them?
Yes Chloee as a matter of fact I do! Pity! I just throw mine out!
Curtains!
01~10~2015
Sponsor: rob carmack
Contest: Daschunds
Slaying all bible verse
He danced his words to heights
He was
The one
He never grew
The child always fresh
He had no lovers
Only fans
Death came inside a tear
Loneliness incubated fears
Dancing on the moon
Alone
Postmodern Blues
Our bare-footed ancestors
Diligently traversed the grassy pathways
On rustling vegetation air walked along
Sunshine and rain in turn tiptoed
To bestow canopy of reverence
They wished us to watch
Soil sprouting bliss
Hills rolling down lush carpet
Pristine waters meandering around
The way they watched them doing
Tomorrow was all that mattered!
As tomorrow stands uncertain
In power games now a days
We better trudged up the silky ladder
In cross wind
We even surrogated the womb of sky
For lustful pearls to be incubated
Dead waters whimper in lonely furrows
Strings of air have spun a smoky mess
From dangling veil
That technology came forward with
To fix the gap
Both the worlds stood to benefit
You bargained your life style for gold
We are blinded watching you relish
Your abundance
You look anything but cool, honey
Nevertheless few of the have-nots tempted
To jump the fence
Only to sacrifice their reverie
Into sarcophagus fire
With their wives and children
As they failed to keep their hearts behind
You can hear the earth bloating
Like sacrificial goat
With throat at risk
Of pious killing
By future conquerors!
Zephyrus Within
by Odin Roark
Do we fly away
Drift away
Stay away
Or were we ever real?
How fleeting the impressions
Plummeted by the New today
Dismissing yesterday as the Old
Daring tomorrow to invent further questioning
The labels abound
Father
Mother
Sister
Brother
Daughter
Son
Lover
Yet how much a part of each other
Are we?
Might it be
We are but separated cells
Incubated into life
Rendered a sameness by others
Yet in reality
Thirsting for fulfillment
Compelled to wander aimlessly
We stumble through existence?
To argue such a theory
Is to know
Along the way
Seasoned lives find
Connections sever
That like all of nature
Separations occur
Drifting inevitable
Attachments wane
Collective experience
Fulfilling the essence of life
Still…
Such eventual enfoldment
Leaves us free to adventure
To know self-determined identity
Requires but to hoist liberation’s sails
Catch tomorrow’s wind
Leave behind misbegotten time
And if true…
To watch from afar
The flotsam of the past
Is to know destiny is of our own making
Not a determination by others
That sweetness of air
Breathed from Zephyrus within
Unshackles the relationship with self
The call of morning roosters,
Is a call of God's gardeners to duty.
I see footprints cast
In the breezy dew of the early morning,
As they lumbar to their fields
Ignoring the ache in their backs,
shadows of sleep under the eyes
and the hurt of their callused palms.
They still hold to hoes and cutlasses
Duty calls, a call they can't ignore
With cracked but soothing voice,
they sing to the spirits of the air
whilst grabbing weeds away,
from the paths of their crops.
There's no sigh of relief
until the sun starts to sleep.
They give no ear to tiredness,
even when their veins scream for help.
For they were born to serve at the altar of God
With bread from their fields of corn
and wine from grapes in their yard of vine.
They were chosen by the heavens above,
to work under the sun's very radiation
to feed and care for the whole nation.
Their love for humanity,
was incubated and hatched in lands beyond
the reach of mortals.
We live on their crops
and feed on their livestock.
Eden's sons deserve our applause
For they sustain our lives.
Long live Heroes...
...Stranja
This poem is dedicated to my mom.
A mama robin was granted a divine gift
And she began to form her new precious jewels,
Within herself.
The pain she was in while carrying these marbles,
Oh how burdensome they must have been.
But no.
She did not complain,
But instead rejoiced over her incubated prizes
Soon after conception she laid her bright blue eggs,
Fawning over the glorious miracle she birthed
She prepared for when they would wake
A busy fourteen days of enlarging her home and scouting for food.
She would spend most of those days plump on her prized possessions
Providing warmth.
Her children awoke from their slumber.
Tears filled her eyes as she saw their precious faces.
As the years went on her baby birds began to grow.
She knew they would all leave the nest someday,
But she never expected it to come so fast.
“Mama. Why do you love me?”
asked one of her little sons.
“Why? Well that’s a silly question.”
“Why mama?”
“Because hun, you give me a new reason every day.”
“I love you too, mama”
That feeling she got every time she looked at her kids
Was something so supernatural,
So gentle.
Her love for them was never ending
Never once did she complain.
Never once did she have regrets.
Yet she sacrificed so much.
That mama robin grew old,
And after bearing ten beautiful birds,
She never once left their side.
She sacrificed her dreams for her children,
And realized her true dream
Was becoming a mama,
A mama bird.
ROMANTIC SURVEILLANCE
Friday came with a change
The incubated hen got laid,
On this platter of grace shaped
Into spade,
Her beauty flows faster than
The rain
Washes through my vain
As I read within her photo and
Her lips says,
Hello my charming male,
Project my fame as the
World is created for love to play.
Her flamboyant sticed garment
Rolls down the carpet,
Let all stand welcoming the
Diamond that my heart target,
Elegant asset my mother recommends,
I'm foolishly in love with her
Accent.
II
These creature matched the
Well arranged furnitures,
As we watch flashes turn out
To make pictures,
Never will I give up in making
Your sister my in law,
How would I resist these enigmatic
Posture
Honey clothed features,
Mirror of every man's imagination.
I will keep you in the deepest part
My heart treasures,
No excavator will ever expose us
Romance my lips with your
Liquid lip gloss,
Am drunk with this rhythmic liquor
I mean you are beyond words.
III
The tongue will only talk
My ears always appreciate your
Voice
As my heart is forever yours.
Happy birthday is all I tried to
Say
Join my hands let's celebrate,
You know I respect today
We would share the night in these
Exotic cave,
Located in my romantic village.
Slice your custom pink cake
With inscription of our names
I baked for this special rave,
My love will never find its tail.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA.
Time can be defined as the experience of events between birth and death, and our
lives, I think, are defined by the association of friends and family who shared those
events. The quantity of events which are shared with them builds and defines the
depth of our mutual relationships and strengthens that mutual bond.
As the bond strengthens with each passing event, characteristics such as trust, respect and admiration are created and incubated in the blending of those traits. We come to expect and take for granted that sharing ... and enjoy it to its fullest.
Then ... after years and years, the bond is broken by the Call to the Other Side.
The void that Calling leaves is an open, searing wound. We tell ourselves that the
individual called is in a better place. We tell ourselves that whatever degree of stress
they felt is: no more. And ... those things are true. However, large, entire sections of our lives feel as though they've been involuntarily ripped from our being. Future
enjoyments of their camaraderie will never be constructed. The pain created within
ourselves at their loss, is selfish because we've become so accustomed to the joys
created by the sharing with them of each of our lives that we fell we "owned" it - but we didn't ... we only shared it, and now we feel betrayed by its absence.
In the final tally, the things which can never be eradicated from our minds are the
mutually created images of those events which helped define the lives we lived - and
shared - with those who assisted in its' construction.
Remaining are the memories as our personal chalice which contains every conscious
happening of our lifetimes, along with those who shared it - and our minds will sip of its' contents whenever reverie, and thoughts of them, demands.
DAUGHTERS
Opposites presented by Goddess
in talons of Eagle
on wings of Dove
Equally loved
A torrent from a fierce black cloud
yang frothing waves in a storm
beating seaweed rocks
claiming it in her bosom
then furling it afar
into unknown depths
where Neptune roars
his roar on end
boasting an indigo flag
Then ...light as a feather
yin floating on a shimmering beach
rosy ringlets microscope crabs, bubbles
giggling at ant antics
in crevices of creaky floorboards
while autumn Sun sets
dew drops on clover leaves
so misty morning says Hello !
A dancing juicy apricot
kisses at library doors
spongy beneath oak exterior
where beetles dug a hundred paths
staring defiance at an orange star
scornful, graceful, factual
proclaiming a Largeness of Life !
An Earth child in long waves of auburn
reaching for Mercury
A Spirit child, Earth located
One imaged from bowels of struggle
she whispered freedom in my ears
when behind prison bars
I sat counting toes
One imaged from Gabriel’s gown
or was it Merlin’s ?
she fingered watercolours
through my lenses
As Saturn said goodbye ...
Sirius screamed from wreaking hell
wrought from rages or sages unknown
Born in blood without its blue
from a womb of turmoil tremors
crystal dripping dark strife
hypocrisy contemplated
torn apart by churning guts
as young medics ogled
grimaced, searched
so premature, so incubated
it was “I will survive!”
Sun and Moon crossed one another
not knowing which way but loose
streaming rivers flowing sideways
in dusty towns, painted villages, rape
a gecko appeared on a pillowcase
Gangster peeped through a window
books came tumbling down
numbers flew away
lashes black as croaking crow
it was “I am here!”
There can be no coin to
ponder if not faces two
no tornado ripping apart
if no breezes play on
a horse farm in Karoo
No life if no death
Night clings to day
as daybreak clings to escaping night
sunset embraces twilight
negates itself, disappearing
one embalming the other while
flying
together on a silver thread
in blueberry Sky !
standing in the line i feel the pressure, scolding, start to build,
i feel their each and every iris as they climb the height of my structure,
this fortress i was forced, by fear in youth, to unearth and bare in hand,
with time has weathered thin and i with it feel increasingly translucent.
mutter and glance, hands attempt to contain their maintenance.
to look and to listen, not a single tone to note or color to perceive.
their contaminants infiltrate my ventilation, the stench is sickening,
pulse erratic and mind askew, i flee, steps fueled by incubated haste,
cause comes to such effect even the beaten path is bruised by its confusion.
the archway constitutes a sigh and with that a slow of pace,
fumbling finger over fidget, pocket full with whispers coaching panic on its way.
the breathe of smoking paranoia shrugs a calming gesture.
a wink of timid silliness and nurtured nature bring to mind,
how, even aware of relevance, dissimulation fogs the clouds.
Out of you and me,
The colors of our skins
And our humanity,
Comes the scarred history
Of the home of the brave
And the land of the free;
Where it always was held true
That in you and by you—
And only for you—all men
[of your hue] were created equal.
Indeed. Said the darker hued
Were merely aped to be manlike
That the icon of the new nation—
Slavery and the pursuit of happiness—
Could be perceived as that negative goodness
That only servitude and meek humility could bring.
What deed could be more gracious?
Snatching savage beasts from a darken land;
Cultivating them to be docile beasts of burdens
In a bright new world—Slavery—the common good!
But time is a funny thing. When it passes,
It still leaves its footprints behind. Dark hued
Ancestors are gone; but their audacity remains
Showing and leaving heirs what new tormentors
Will never ever see—what their eyes were watching.
What our ancestors saw, our eyes are now stayed upon.
Contrary to skewed belief, we too, were created
In the egg of life—laid free in history’s nest—incubated.
Now pecked free, we come laying our claim to the vision.
Freedom is not a human gift. With eyes stayed on the prize
We now come laying our claim to the liberating promise of God.
LOVE ISN'T DEAD
On a scale of love's name
Where the road is broken
And cause heart aches,
Sweat and tears becomes my
Daily bread,
When will love be permanent
And sink into my blood?
As I write this night
After the death of my heart,
With an elegant chat to reassure
My love will eventually
Remain intact,
Love isn't dead like a bird
Who crosses the earth
And says she will never rest,
You pretend this is the best
So fear never exist in your hair.
I clear my face requesting for
Help
Love isn't dead,
If you don't lend and wait
For blessing to be persistent
Let us blend like the shell
over the snails head or
The chicks egg incubated under
The hen.
Love grows within lengths
As you protect and never pierce
Like the balloon who needs
Constant air plus care to never
Tear.
Please help my friend
She was once obsessed, presently
Has misplaced that lovely
Dress stitched without treads.
I sit to play into my gods tent
Why will love die?
Then tears becomes the repercussion
For this lonely girl.
It takes time to find that perfect
Crest
Open my heart and begin to
Search,
Days may stretch,
But the air will definitely
Bring him near
This only a solid bet,
Please just comprehend.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA
Her scrambled pessimism flowed like lava streams
Her yoke incubated more than just hopes and dreams
A alien world that resembled a festering wound
Smouldering ash, toxic gas was all that could be found
Her primordial soup had the chaotic future of a rotten egg
Tomorrow was a dark blanket - overcooked solid like a boiled egg
Her yesterdays were a ghost town of erupted volcano's
And life was - an overheated oven - a raging inferno
Before the first fish hatched to become seafood for the shark
I craked open the atmosphere to release a spicy aroma with a fork
Before the first dinosaur wore the scales of her costume
I gave the world more than all the oceans could ever consume
I was an unknown element nourishing in the stifling enigma
As a master chef wailing onions and chopping red magma
I was an unknown flavour preparing for this exquisite moment
The main ingredient - beaten into a beautiful omelette
FIRE
In every man is a decreed madness
A hidden urge for progress
It torments the mind like spikes of Jesus's crown
As like a potent atomic bomb
Ready and timed to explode
It's that feel to be great like God
Breaking open with ideas and motives
That are long hatched plans for tomorrow
Only if time shall allow it's mercy enough
Then eggs of this incubated shall crack
Opening to the world a challenge
Yes
Yes dear people
One mans success is a battle line for the other
They are to fight to cross and achieve
Instead of long, long howlings of failures
When this conquered one day, beaten one day
The joy is a good job done
Grease to the elbow of you, a worker
A real man, man of strengh, Oh hercules
As yours is a crown of gold
What men ought to earn been real men
Explode with ideas, explode with strengh
Achieve the ultimate
Climb the mountain to God, where Heaven shine.
I pasted another dreamtime adventure,
into my mental scrapbook and
looked to the next ebony sky.
A traveler on a quest for life’s meaning;
I incubated another question and
disappointment hid from ethereal revelation.
The meaning, is in the being;
all-in-one and one-in-all;
one looks around the house of mirrors, to see all.
The only deception; the ego.
The great karmic ball, gathering momentum,
can crush it to dust; but it’s up to humans,
to push it and initiate the roll.
Dreams lay the foundation for each life;
that life, builds a heaven or a hell.
Beware the karmic ball, it sees what you build.
Once in motion, it decides its own direction.