Best Like A Fox Poems
In search of the human mind
Different thoughts crossed my mind,
a few conclusions I could not find
The human mind has no stop!
Receiving input, danger, before I blow my top
Sometimes the light clicks
I think I figured out the problem
It's at the tip of my mind ;-)
Sorry, my brain cells did it again,
Ran out of THINK!
When it comes to love, I'm brain dead!
This is me talking to my brain,
"Are you just being lazy, you fell too quick?"
A game in a maze inside my head!
Give me some help, or what use are you
Open the way only you can unlock the door.
Unfold my future, stop hiding the key
How about it mind?
Do you want me to put you back on pills?
Stand back brain, while I explain your job.
The Human mind is not easy to read like a book
However, some are cruel limiting judgment, with one look
The mind plays tricks when too much information is perceived
The mind is related to the heart, sending signals the wrong way
The mind works when the body's asleep
(I call it a dream, I hope you don't mind I put it there!)
The mind creates beauty, wonders of the world
The mind is a soft whisper, a secret, my conscious ---I Swear
The mind is devious, tricky can outsmart like a fox
The mind is a beautiful thing to waste in a box
The mind can journey, without leaving its nest
The mind is knowledge, many fail to explore
The mind is a Captain, traveling far and beyond
The mind is like a paint brush, colorful art
The mind is a creature who hides in a cave
The mind is like pain, don't stop in its way
The mind is like a mime who does not talk at all
The mind is fragile, don't use it like a sponge
The mind is like a pair of shoes,
without the mind we're bare
The bottom line is, the mind is a mystery!
Don't mind me, I lost my mind, years ago :):):)
(THOUGHTS)
I’m feral like a fox
misplaced in the
maroon mists
of wilderness,
only found in
woeful woodland.
My skin is blanketed
in crimson balmy
hyacinth feathers
from a
forsaken rainforest.
Misguided on
delusional paths,
where spring-tides
mirror liquified colors
of warm diamond tears
I’ve suppressed
behind ice blue sighs.
And I’ve seen
splintered petals
beneath thick-leaved
jewel orchids,
that surrendered
to greying leaves
on tainted twigs
and broken branches.
I’ve walked through
fields of thorns
where the
musky scent
of roses remained
a poison to
my aching soul.
So, why does it
feel like I’m chained
from vines of changes,
that suffocate
the sun within me,
crucifying the fragility
of premature
begonia beginnings?
Am I to follow
the darkness,
to cast away the evil,
constantly pushing me
into a cave of
cacophonous silence?
As I see beyond
the gossamer veil,
hiding sharpened talons
of treacherous eagles-
flying amongst
vicious vampires;
emerald foes
masked as friends,
feeding my conscience
with cruel concoctions,
oblivious to the truth,
that I am a bark believer
of marigold miracles.
So let the
steel black breeze
and the
faceless ghosts
of fleeting time,
witness how I
rise against
wicked wolves
lurking behind
stars within
a chiffon laced
canopy of nightfalls.
For, I am more
than the empty labels
you’ve placed,
like the shame,
I’ve buried beneath
lyrical lies drizzling
from vanilla skies.
Let me tell you a story from the old wild-west;
Of a terrible lawman with a star on his vest.
His title was “Ranger”; not bound to a town
He studied the outlaws then hunted them down.
One long hot summer; played like a pawn
He’d failed to take down the man called “Big John”.
He was tired and thirsty, his mood like black jet
As he rode into Dodge his sights were still set
On Big John!
He stabled his horse, and checked out the saloon
‘cause he’d heard the big man liked to drink there at noon.
Through the wide swinging doors, he strolled to the back
His face as long as a wagon-wheel track.
The scowl on his face told me this man was risky,
But I was the bar keep, and he needed whiskey.
So I poured him a double in a clean mason jar
And slid it down deftly to the end of the bar.
He quaffed it and gave me a tip of his hat.
I thought it was over, except for the fact
That his mood was still dark, like rain in a flood,
I knew in my gut there was bound to be blood.
There in the corner; his back to the wall,
He waited with patience; said nothing at all.
Just stared at the space ‘bove the wide swingin’ doors,
His hands at his sides, drooping down toward the floor.
It was quarter past noon when the room darkened some,
Big John in the doorway; blocking the sun.
Two shots rang out from the man in the vest.
Two blood stains emerged on the big fella’s chest.
Big John just stood there; there in the door,
Then the glasses all rattled as John hit the floor.
Dry-gultched, like a fox at a watering hole
Big John was finished; so, likely his soul!
The old wanted poster said “Dead or Alive”.
They just didn’t care how Big John arrived!
The Ranger just smiled and sighed, “One more round!”
Then he gathered his pony and rode out of town.
May 9, 2017
Thought Police
Be careful what you say,
be careful who you say it to.
It might be heard...
by someone that does not like it!
They will come to your door,
and even the score,
even if there is no game
involved at all.
They will just call,
on you, that's who,
even if you live at the zoo.
Truth beaten up on the sidelines.
Propaganda given an upper hand.
Media stroking the boss...
of the paper,
the airways,
and the fairways,
no longer fair at all.
Criminals on the streets,
let go for their crimes,
to make room for more important...
lawbreakers,
earth-shakers,
and memory makers.
Fearing their words,
may yet have power,
for even an hour.
Those that do not go along,
with the climate change agenda,
and will not take the shot,
or get the clout
or rub on each other
to get the pox,
like a fox... (in heat)
will be dealt with in the darkness
of powers at their central station.
The moon is full of men,
that have given their lives over,
to cover the reality,
we live in.
The rationing of water,
then food, and gas,
only the beginning...
of the end.
We will all go without,
but don't shout.
Be quiet and accept what is ahead,
the dread enough to fill
the voting ballot box
full of hope...
or treason?
Someone is consumed with anger and has gone mad
Venting fitful words of ire ...how childish; how sad
Like a flock of loud crows
The noisy blah blah goes
It's so trite and trivial. Give it up. Egad!
Life is filled with locked doors wherever I may roam
But I will not cry 'wee wee wee' all the way home
I'm not that little pig
And I don't give a fig
So froth doesn't drip from my mouth like rabid foam
If you've a bone to pick with others in the soup
Work it out instead of posting blog poems of poop
This is a poetry site
There's no need to fight
Don't be sneaky like a fox in a chicken coop
“To live in hearts
we leave behind
is not to die.”
Thomas Campbell
If I could colour grey clouds of grief
I wrap them in sky's sapphire relief
I'd dim delusional pale peridot eyes to wake up to your violet voice
Grey clouds of grief
I'd rewind to my childhood cherished times
Burying creepy crawling tainted tears in streams
Pursuing my twisting teal path of dandelion dreams
For I'm drowsy from howling hollow cries
I no longer desire to be feral like a fox
My heart isn't like a rackley rock
I'm melting internally my thoughts are on ice in a brittle block.
I yearn for resilient rose quartz squirrel whispers
As dawn of sangria
September arrives
Intoxicated by the air of stirring leaves magenta memories
Your first amber autumn anniversary
I seek strength from the vines of
transforming time
I don't strive to be stuck within a storm of silent sonnets in my journal at nighttime.
I long for a life again of daring escapades
Maybe hereafter
I will depart for the opium seas
It's the only place I'm free to be an antique version of me.
After a wonderful late afternoon walk in the park,
my wife and I moseyed over to the Japanese Hibachi Grille for some dinner.
What we got into was some good old fashioned drama down at BeniHana...
You see, I got me a fetish for shiny cookware,
so as the patrons' eyes honed in on the iron chef
dicing up onions, shrimp, and chicken...
mine were busy fantasizing about concealing Ginsu knives
clankin' in the kitchen.
"Brew Silly began his routine with the hot fire volcano bit
atop the flat grille.
In the distraction, my sticky fingers began reactin',
slippin' utensils inside my zipper, for a thrill.
Things started heatin' up as folks were eating up;
Spatulas started flyin'!
Mushrooms were a fryin',
My conscience stopped trying...
tired of getting beaten up!
Now, if I told you I was lookin' at what was cookin'...
I'd be a lyin'.
I mean, I was really tryin',
but the devil had me by the klepto-hands...guiding me.
Riling me up.
He said, "Go for one of them Wok's! Do it now Big Dog!
Get yir rocks off! Knock yir socks off!
Quick man...sly like a fox, Hoss!"
My heart said, "No", but my head said, "OH HELL YES!"
Sadly, I was in cahoots with the devil,
bass mixed with treble,
trouble poundin' in my chest!
So guess what came next?-
I grabbed one of them big brass bitches,
signaled Jessie's ass with a quickness,
and started gunnin for the door!
Of course, my good hearted wife started whinin',
"Honey, I wasn't done, now what are we leavin' for?"
"Listen baby, I'll explain later.
Right now it's time to go!"
As we passed the pretty little hostess,
she banged the gong and said real fast,
"AHH, Tank-You Berry Much F'wor Cummean Fwolks!"
We jetted towards the park, but it was getting dark.
My legs began to fail. The cops were on our tail.
We tried to walk and play it off, but it was no use.
We should have stayed and ate our food,
and drank our brews with "BREWS!"
The pigs threw me to the ground,
then began to squeal and bark.
They tossed us in the County Jail,
twenty thousand bail...
____________FOR TAKIN' A WOK TO THE PARK!!!
~"True story ={WinK+Wink}
You are my little one
Roasting me like an oven
A freshly baking bun
Making me a mother hen
I lay you as my egg, hatch
Make you go ‘peep, peep’
Your papa is my love match
Raisin’ you ain’t cheap
Baa baa black sheep
Now it’s time to sing you to sleep
I’m gonna sing you a nursery rhyme
Cause it is your bed time
Gives you kisses sweeter than sweet lime
Sing to you til my voice cracks
We a family, we run in a pack
You are the center, we will protect
Anyone disturbs you, they get decked
We raise you in a way that is correct
Up to the utmost respect
Like a little lady (or gentleman)
You as a baby, on the Gerber plan
We got a dream house with a floor plan
You are part of our master plan,
Protecting you with everything we can
Everything we have, its yours
Even when you still crawlin’ on all fours
Your daddy’s reason for the Army corps
You a little soldier, boy or girl,
You gonna one day see the world
But for now your daddy’s little girl
For now your mama’s little pearl
But for now you is a mama’s boy
Straighten up like a soldier, toy,
Creating mischief, you’re very coy
Like a fox you be runnin’ sly
Around strangers, you be hidin’, shy
Until at night when the moon is high
And to the world you wave bye-bye
As I sing you tonight’s last lullaby…
We go together like chocolate and nutter, Reeses
though we are from two different worlds, species
Young mixed of us become lil beasties
We slaughter anyone who stands in our way, deceased
and we can just claim they died naturally, diseased
We can be so scary, so feared, that there are no more teases
Then we're finally free to run around like its recess.
We go together like a fox in a hole.
We're tied together by our souls,
knowing our love can never be sold,
two lovers have never been so bold,
onto each other we'll forever hold.
Our love is greater than the price of gold
by your voice I shall always be lulled,
never to feel our hearts grow cold,
instead growing stronger with each annual,
toughening up each passing year.
Haters couldn't tear us apart if they dared
couldn't even find our secret lair,
though they might check here and there,
checkin' up and down the stairs,
up those stairs where we sleep in the bare.
Sleepin' and lovin' in the nude
doin' things one might think was crude,
things between a ***** and her dude,
love between a lady and her man,
cause baby I'm about to rock your world
With golden locks and fancy frocks,
She looks just like Faye Dunaway.
She's like a fox, smug as she rocks
That retro scarf and wool beret.
I bet she'd even rob a bank
With sultry smiles and cunning ease.
I'm sure she'd only fire blanks--
A natural and eternal tease.
And in this modern day and age,
She doesn't even have a Clyde.
The only star to walk this stage,
She needs no man to grace her side.
With independence as her creed,
She makes a bonnie gal indeed.
You are all cool kids in your youngest ever age,
You make each other day like you’re out of your cage.
When I talk, you always listen.
My pretty good lessons are enjoyably missing.
You make arguments like you are all geared for war.
Exchanging of words is so much but gnarl.
You easily get cracked in my foolish same japes,
Those dreamlike faces are as sweet as those grapes.
We found each other in this old darkest place,
Our bonds are crazy like a guy running in maze.
You frequently ask questions about me,
Easily believed like a fairy tale book on my knee.
Yes! You laugh and correct each other’s mistakes.
It’s totally dangerous like a fox jumping in high stakes.
You put me in an all high status of my life,
You are always part of me… Part of my life.
The clouds look so harmless, so meaningless
But when they're there, and the sun can't shine through,
I feel you a little bit less.
Dear Mum...
I hope you watched me today,
I tried to let nothing get in the way of my unexpected ambition.
Seeing my dreams come to fruition, though, is nothing compared
to having you here to be able tell you about it.
I am unlearning morse code, it's like going blind,
I have to adjust, change, roll with the times and get used to it.
I feel like you and I are without a conduit.
I went to send you a message,
but is a message still sent if you're not there?
I feel scared, the phone is a reminder
of when you'd tell me to be just a little bit kinder.
Listen, remember, regret.
Repeat.
Look at the photographs, cry, weep, repeat.
The touch points of my life are still in place, milestones still not met
but the memory of your smiling face
stops me like a fox in the road,
scavenging on tatty Polaroids to feed
something that everyone says I should be soon throwing away.
I'm not ready yet to do all that.
Your fingerprints on a glass are the only things I can make last.
Who’s been wearing my house slippers,
I wanna know
Somebody’s been steaming up
my bathroom shower window
I wanna know
who’s been sleeping in my bed
Leaving on my pillow,
golden strands of their nappy head
Who done ate the rest of
my leftover roast
Who done scarfed down the last of
the garlic buttered toast
Somebody been creeping
in and out my door
Somebody been spitting
cherry pits all over my floor
The only clue I got
is those curly, golden hair threads
They better hope
I don’t get a hold of them nappy dreads
Who’s been wearing my favorite robe,
left it in the shed out back
Somebody’s been sending out calls,
ordering movies I don’t like
I wanna know
who’s been laying down in my bed
Leaving on my pillow,
golden follicles of their nappy head
Somebody done ate the other half
of my corned beef sandwich
Somebody done gobbled up all my
homemade turkey casserole dish
Somebody been sneaking,
coming through my backdoor
Somebody been rummaging,
throwing my things all over the floor
I know you been
lurking around here like a fox
I know you been
inside my house, Goldie dreadlocks
And one day soon,
your luck is bound to run out
When them goldie locks get snagged
and cuffed, you’re surely gonna shout:
I had a bad hair day!
Words said with a petulant, fairy tale pout
Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever (Toller)
To “toll” is to dance like a fox
Luring mallards or teals to the rocks
Where a hunter’s awaiting
What the dog has been baiting
Scaring duckies right out of their jocks
The Old English Sheepdog
I’m partial to dogs that are shaggy
That are goofy and sweet and not naggy
They only see good
From their eyes under hood
So it’s sad that their tails aren’t waggy*
*Like Boxers, their tails are docked
The Papillon
Considered more missy than mensch
(Butterfly’s the translation from French)
In private is seen
With a king or a queen
And in public with Dame Judi Dench
The Pekingese
At a Cantonese restaurant with luck
One can still find some things for a buck
But imagine my shock
When the place down the block
Ran a special on Pekingese duck
The Petite Basset Griffon Vendéen (PBGV)
Le Basset tres Petite Vendéen
Un Griffón compagnon de Cézanne
Et Renoir en Provence
*Comme ils lounge lors d’une danse
On the grass with a glass of Marsanne
(*As they lounge during a dance)
The Pit Bull
The Pitty despite what you hear
Is not vicious at all but quite dear
It will sit like a dove
With its eyes full of love
While it slowly devours your ear
The Pomeranian (Pom)
The Pom is a kind of a spitz
A Chihuahua with fur in a ditz
The type of a pooch
You can cuddle and smooch
Or show off with a date at the Ritz
The Poodle
The Poodle is known for its smarts
For excelling at music and arts
But an owner was telling
Me after the smelling
They also blow nuclear farts
The Portuguese Water Dog
Pity the poor Portuguese
Who ended up sheets to the breeze
His bowl had been spiked
With a port that he liked
You could tell by the smell of his fleas
The Pug
Behold the repug-a-nant Pug
With a mug that resembles a thug
Though their owners observe
What they really deserve
Is not scorn but a cuddling hug
The Rhodesian Ridgeback
I bought one of these for a dollar
It said Phi Beta Kap on its collar
I later found out
(Though not without doubt)
It had been a Rhodesian scholar
Humility of my ear is great
He is patient and perpendicular
Like a new soldier on attention
In a parade on cold morning
But a dump man he is all times
Even when someone slaps him
The ear listens as people insult
The eyes, buttocks, legs, stomach
In his humility he keeps silent
Like a hunter-crocodile on shores
Not a word from his mouth one hears
If the ear were like the nose
And smells something offensive
It would close immediately
And go on hunger strike all day
But the humble ear is tolerant
If the ear were like the leg
And it is told ‘you twiggy leg’
It could run there like a fox
To stage a war of legs day long
But the patient ear would just listen
If the ear were the mouth
And hears someone insulting him
‘Big mouth, big mouth, smelly you are’
He would open and swallow him alive
But my ear only ponders in silence