Best Lie Low Poems
Bank robber Jim was one unlucky bloke
Went to draw his gun but the holster broke
It dropped on the bank floor
And went off with a roar
The shock was too much and he had a stroke...
Though he was unconscious he hadn't died
Woke in a coffin for his final ride
In a desparate bid
Banged on the coffin lid
But all he could hear was laughing outside...
Written 17th June 2021
Then someone shouted can you hear banging
It was quite faint because folks were singing
The sheriff prised off the lid
And he was so glad he did
Because he thought we'll have us a hanging...
Jim didn't know whether to laugh or cry
Resigned himself to the fact that he'd die
Saw sheriff holding a rope
Realised there was no hope
And for unlucky Jim the end was nigh...
He was taken to the gallows in town
Handcuffed and wearing nothing but a frown
Jim was then starting to choke
But with the drop the rope broke
The crowd screamed as poor Jim came tumbling down..
Unlucky Jim jumped up quick as a flash
As he passed the bank ran in and grabbed cash
He stole the first horse he saw
Then let out a loud yee haw
And for sweet freedom he made a quick dash...
Written 19th June 2021
A bounty hunter called Nevada Slim
Went after bank robber Unlucky Jim
With tracker Spirit Bear
They discovered Jims lair
And Jim's future was now looking quite grim...
Slim called out "put your hands in the air"
Jim grabbed his gun, Slim said "don't you dare"
But Jim was too fast
And let off a blast
Slim fell dead then Jim shot Spirit Bear...
Jim quickly packed his things and rode away
Thankful that he'd survived another day
He decided to lie low
But what old Jim didn't know
Was that Pinkertons were heading his way...
Jim was sleeping in the afternoon sun
And didnt hear the cocking of a gun
He woke up with dread
Saw guns at his head
And a lawman said "Jim looks like your done"...
Jim was handcuffed and they rode back to town
There to meet them was Sheriff and Judge Brown
The charges were read
Jim nodded his head
Sheriff said " this time Jim you're going down" ...
For Jims last request he asked for a smoke
And noticed the hangman had a new rope
He put a hood on Jims head
Jim dangled then he was dead
An escape this time!, there wasn't a hope...
Written 1st July 2021
RIP UNLUCKY JIM
We ride the waves, Budgie my friend
Sometimes they crash us on the shore
But you and I are so much more
Than little heaps of helpless sand
Slipping through fingers of our hands
We write our poems with so much fun
I throw a line, you grab the bait
You count your syllables.... eight
I make them ten! Then ad some pun
You choose a title.... And we're done
We ride the waves, Budgie my friend
Sometimes fly high, and then we crash
Lie low a while, but then we dash
Right back, finish what we did not end
For after sleep, we're on the mend!
This is not a sonnet you know, the syllables do not match
But who cares, we have a next poem to catch!
***
Copyright © Darren White
April 26, 2017
For a time I've been writing as the stream idles by
as dust storms are rolling, across a faraway sky
while sheep are a'bleating; as the cattle lie low
as I'm writing I'm watching, the white falling snow
it drops down in silence, from the dark coloured sky
I feel distanced, from the home that I'm holding
here in my minds eye..!
© Joe Maverick 09-01-2010
O child of sweet sweet sorrow, why is it that your lonely inspirations are often wiped away and your dreams are put to death with each tear? O child of sweet sweet sorrow, your anguish shows, it is not with out dreams for the world you seem to know. Even so, you mourn for that which you do not have. You wipe away your crimson tears, dress and redress your wounds. Asahmed of who you are, a coward for who you're not, lie low and gain your strength at night, run away at dawn. Your silver thoughts are all you have, O child of gentle night, hide your lonely face and dream before the dawn is soon in sight. You answer for their each mistake, a victim of your own. Come alive here in beautiful night, but at dawn soon take flight. You have your hopes, you have your dreams, but you lock them so tightly away. When that they seep out, you just let them go, left to fall away with your tears. Why are you so afraid to fight to keep your dreams? Why o child of sweet sweet sorrow, are your inspirations wiped away with that fake plastic smile, and your aspirations seem to fall away in the form of your tears?
Form:
Viva la Cordillera de los Andes by Nicanor Parra, Translated by T. Wignesan
Long Live! The Andes Mountain Range!
I’m seized with a mad rage to yell
long live the Andes Mountain Range
may the Costa Mountain Range lie low slain
The reason I can hardly divine
but I can’t hold myself back:
Long Live! The Andes Mountain Range!
May the Costa Mountain Range lie low slain!
For forty full years now
I’ve wanted to step over the horizon,
go far beyond the limitations of my myopia,
but I just didn’t dare.
Now, by no means, Gentlemen
is there an end to my ratiocinations:
Long Live! The Andes Mountain Range!
May the Costa Mountain Range lie low slain!
Have they heard what I said?
There’s an end to my ratiocinations!
Long Live! The Andes Mountain Range!
May the Costa Mountain Range lie low slain!
Doubt there’s none over my lack of response
if they sever my vocal chords
(in such a case as this
it’s almost certain they will)
well, if they do stifle my voice
I would like to say I have no choice
but to accept the dashing of my very last hope.
I am a merchant
indifferent to the positions of the sun
a professor clad in green-coloured trousers
who comes apart drop by drop as dew
an insignificant bourgeois is what I am
in what way do red clouds matter to me?
Nevertheless I appear on balconies
in order to shout out what I offer:
Long Live! The Andes Mountain Range!
May the Costa Mountain Range lie low slain!
Pardon me if I’m going out of my mind
while in the garden made by Nature
but I have to keep shouting till death:
Long Live! The Andes Mountain Range!
May the Costa Mountain Range lie low slain!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Admirable Almights all I ask appreciatively allow me to attain,
be beyond bourgeois breeding ballads for the brain.
Create colloquialisms that cast competently into chimeras,
directing dramatists with doubtful determinations to
delightful dactylic discriptions.
Edible expressions that exite eyes and ears,
by freely forming a firm fire you'll flog any frigid forlornness fear.
God glorifies the good, my given gift Godsent thee,
my hardihood's husky, heart hungover with honesty.
I inscribe impenetrable insights, my individuality's
inanimate without improvisation,
other jaws jabber jargon jokingly, my journalistic journey's
like Jesus's justifications.
I know to keep with Christ a close kinship,
lie low then leap to light life is limited.
Maturing moderately I molded motives to mentally
manufacture music,
now naturally notions are necessary, abnormal novelistic natuarlist.
It's obvious this optimist ovulates obscure poetic offsprings,
perception pastel's perfectly personify the pen pusher's
potentcy passionately.
You're quasi qualified like Franz Kafka no question,
respectable written reflection ramble rampant even while resting.
Some scorn and show sentiment towards sonnets I've
scriptured successfully,
the toungue-tied troubadour tallies towering totals of
synchronized terms intentionally.
My untimatum is ultimately unrivaled when using unbreakable
utensils,
my voice vibrates vigorously, visionary with a victorious view.
Why waste what you wrote, wake up, wonder in a writer zone,
poems have vibes like a xylophone.
Heart young, yearn for God 365 times a year,
my zodac is wrong, attitude zealous.
Form:
I thought of one of my nephews before I wrote this, God bless him please
He's from a western land where the hustla's real,
And the thugs'll steal,
Brothers'll kill for the love o' bills,
Tryin' to get a mill[million],
Means much blood'll spill
So his forte's to scheme & die fo',
Gettin'that cream[money] & lie low,
Then hittin' up his rivals
An eye for an eye
and dealin' with street survival,
Makes him drift back to his childhood,
When it was much peace & all good,
But now he gets no sleep
He creeps deep in foul hoods,
Where bodies get chalked & the crowd stood,
In amazement,
Witnessin' homicide engravements on the pavements,
Too much of this misbehavement,
Has the communities decaying
and too many youngsters fall before their prime,
And the harsher the crime, steeper the prison time,
But he was born a product in a wicked jungle,
Bred to run amongst those who are far from humble,
And addicted to makin' they're funds grow,
And plus they're quick to stun those,
Who gets victimized by the hoods jurisdiction,
A whole slew of unsolved crimes
with very few convictions,
And justice is missin',
Because this lifestyle is opposite of fiction,
So he marches through ghetto life
with his hard hat & boots on,
Still focussed on gettin' his loot on,
While killers get their shoot on,
Many of them shoot wrong,
So innocent bystanders been dying for too long,
But he continues to move on,
As 1 of the Young, Wicked & Black
Unquotable quotes - I
A friend in need is the goon who stokes your greed.
A journey of a thousand miles ends with the last broken step.
Don’t kill the brother-in-law until the sister is dead.
Butter your toast on either side to lick hands.
Hang not the hangman with noose: you’ll lose booze.
Half a loaf is better than no love.
Even a blind cat can smell a rat that bells the cat.
Take care of the pounds and the wife will pound you.
Take the load off your own fat.
Shoot to kill only if you can’t stand still.
Slow and steady are two legs in a sack race.
A marksman is the marked man’s also-ran.
A blacklisted writer is on every publisher’s reading list.
A dime a dozen is no denizen.
He who cries thief knows no mischief.
Turn coat and capsize boat.
A snake in the grass may miss Mass but is full of grace.
Early to bed catches the worm.
All that glitters cannot be sold.
Immolate yourself to moult your soul.
Even if you’re forced to burn your boats, fly by air.
Where there’s a will, there’s no giving way.
Run also with the hares and the hounds will eat you.
A little knowledge makes the master grin.
Birds of a feather share the same tailor.
Don’t judge a woman with a book by its covers.
If you kick a can down the street, empty it first.
What burns up and out is the gas in the gut.
A stitch in time saves kith but not kin.
Forewarned is foredamned.
Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, just lay them.
If the hens begin to crow, the cocks will lie low.
If you pour oil on troubled waters, Mid-East will dry up.
Still waters run in sleep.
Parallel lives never meet or greet.
© T. Wignesan - Pris, 2016
Catastrophe of the dry run
The sea, Ice, air, human are rapture
The powerful are brought to ruin
Green horse making this World hot
70% is absorbed in heat
18 degrees Celsius balance the heat
Mighty keeper of water in the lands
Mighty destroyer of Islands
Changing, charging chastising
The atmosphere
I see, I am part of your activities
Burning of coal activities
Carbon emission, 34%. 2020 activities
350,000 in Britain suffered your hands.
65,000 Dominican Republic feel your hands
500,000 in southern California left home to avoid your hand
Denmark gathered the heads cos of your hand.
The heads accept to make peace.
If only it will go to the heart.
Oh mighty one, tell me how to keep peace,
Is it more of vegetation, so I keep peace?
Or keep away carbon dioxide
Nitrous oxide and methane
for peace.
Mighty one, tell me
How you can lie low, for peace
I know I used more than
I put back to you.
Should I have my own forest?
But I know sunspots and solar flares started before me.
REASONS OF WRITING
This poem was writing out of inspiration on hearing and reading how this atmosphere has been badly used and the follow events caused by bad emission to the air, the changing in almost every natural events gave rise and when the heads of states gathered in Denmark to plan for the way forward. It is my contribution on how this atmosphere can be made for a better condition for us all to stay in.
MESSAGE
(1) This poem is a free verse, it run through without break, saying the major event that global warming has cause in the world.
(2) That the heads of states decision in Denmark should be put into practice not mouth say.
(3) That before man (human) started anything sunspots and solar flares started before man
(4) We use more than we put back to nature.
(5) That green vegetations is also a way forward.
(6) Everyman should have his/her own or plant his/her own forest it is possible.
Within a land of Virgin forest wonders flourish
Trembles the pulsing heart of heavenly laden body at night
Ghostly figures shadows churn and nourish
Harmonious reflection green-mist awaiting daylight
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Pits and mounds of decaying fallen trees below
Persuasive lace lichen and mats of moss embrace nature’s seasons
Improbable flickering amber windows aglow
Amongst high-tower contorted trees bestow reasons
*
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*
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low
*
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*
As brownies are busy all night tweaking chores
Alicorn, centaurs, fairies, dwarf stir leaves of trees
High overhead night creaks, cries, and laughter flow
Sailing passage through moist earthy scent breeze
*
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*
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low euphoric
Within a land of Virgin forest
9/22/2016
Clouds are droplets of water and ice,
some look ominous, some look nice-
Spending on how the sun reflects,
White, grey or black colors your eye will detect-
Clouds may be at any height above ground,
all different shapes - flat, oval or round-
You see many kinds of them up in the air,
lets look at some and try to compare-
CUMULOUS CLOUDS seldom bring squalls,
are vertically formed like water falls,
and often resemble fluffy cotton balls,
Some see them as popcorn popped high in the air-
About 6,000 feet up-being higher is rare-
Stratus CLOUDS, they're flat you see,
looking like spider webs strung tree to tree,
or like stretched out taffy between you and me,
Gray in color these cloud lie low-
But can still bring hill fog and drizzles though-
CIRRUS CLOUDS far away they lie,
with an altitude at least 20,000 feet high,
mostly ice crystals floating up in the sky,
Appearing like thin wispy curls of hair-
They indicate weather change, but usually fair-
NIMBUS CLOUDS are full of water and frightening,
as their looming dark towers begin heightening,
accompanied by loud thunder and lightning,
Warning that soon rain's going to be here -
Their distance away can be far or near-
Fighting all the time
See no smiles in your house
Sometimes just silence
Learning to lie low
Leaving all love behind you
Kid in a divorce
Things will get better
I hope...
In the fascinating life journey of a couple
When clouds darken in their midst all of a sudden
With murky grey shades in their relation purple
Many a storms begin to twirl their souls ‘n burden.
Clouds of hatred billow inside them both,
Nights are full of creaking noises ‘n uproar
Howling winds spread in hearts taunt ‘n loath
Respect is tarred ‘n no rapport is attempted to fore.
Startled winds of ego and jealousy begin to roll
Through enraged corners of mind and heart
Gales of dominance drive faster uncontrol
Thunder of anger spooks their animal spirits apart.
When their egos remain unbent and both do not yield
They tear each other unresent and blow off their tops
Relations start to break and love gets cartwheeled
Pitted against the perpetuating gale of hatred it pops.
Bolts of lightning rip their worlds poles apart
Even gods seem furious and trigger the landslides
Reverberating with ire, the unsettled hearts begin to smart
Drowned in their desperation they lie low in their glides.
After the brutal dazzle, a torrent of tears beat down their cheeks
Drowning their muddied worlds in sorrow and gloom
Flooded, they somehow lose energy to add more obliques
Storm when it weakens later, it gives them some legroom.
After clouds poured empty, they let open up the sky
To both it dawns it would be silly to ignore nature’s reprieve
They pull up themselves and decide to make another try
With whatever bits and pieces left after the storm to retrieve
It is easier to get over nature’s storms of wind and rain
But difficult to revive sunshine of relations once sullied
Not easy to repair vivid scars of the stormed souls that remain
Hope and renewed love of twain may get differences buried.
Date: 1/7/2014
Contest: Storms by Shadow Hamilton
Lie low when convenience calls
Stick out your neck at optimum moments
To climb and scale high social walls
As you swerve away from avoidable torments
To shunt aside a servile lifestyle
Predicated on premises so thin
You risk to frisk and whisk green bile
If you hobnob with characters so mean
They drive you into a ditch
Where awash with confusion and indecision
You struggle to make a switch in the stitch
That misses the fabric from which a fusion
Mixes and waxes fact and fiction to forget
Why for a while you chose to lie low
How you determined it wasn’t worth pursuing the target
You once thought you knew lay in row
Number one at the behest of fairness
Until you perceived much water under the bridge
Had gone by to cede room to meekness
Grown more significant outside the fridge
Where belief in necromancy
Blew a hole in the knowledge base
That inadvertently fed sycophancy
Deemed significant in the case
You strove to consider for possible inclusion in the novel
You contemplated writing
But gave up when it became clear your sleep in a Kafue National Park rondavel
Lit up and rekindled your fighting
Spirit to reject out of hand
The notion that social associations grow cold
When you openly take a stand
Against attitudes that strike the prude as too bold
To contemplate
Too weak to make a lasting impression
Too forward to merit a serving of caviar on a silver plate
And too silly to warrant a mention in a poetry recital session.
Africa, lie low,
amidst the jungle beauty
and many oceans.
Stanley meets Zulu
the center cracks open then
all things fall apart
for Russell Sivey's Two Worlds Colliding Contest
7th August, '12
Modupe Sefunmi