Best Lobbing Poems
I have become like him; nocturnal.
Prematurely anaesthetised by exhaustion
then jerked awake into the darkness.
How long since I have slept 'til dawn?
A stifled yawn veiling scurrying thoughts.
Tennis match of emotions; back and forth;
volleying, lobbing this way and that.
The game, set and match of insomnia.
Then rallying forth as dawn brings clarity.
Despairing disparity sleeping finally.
The silence of the night amplifies my heartbeat.
Each breath echoes in the unsettled gloom.
As the dawn casts its ghostly light around the room
sleepless wakefulness wanes with the retiring moon,
and the owl rests, fatigued by his 'whooing'.
Unlike me he can sleep by day, the night is his time,
not mine; I am the intruder in the darkness;
a restless insomniac with an overactive brain.
Sleep well majestic wise one. No doubt,
when night falls, I will share your company again.
Freshman year, newcomer to public school,
my hormones were roused by Billy D. in typing class.
Sadie Hawkins’ Dance just days away;
a chance for girls to ask boys out.
Too shy to show my interest,
crumpled bits of paper I formed into balls,
tossed them at the back of Billy’s head.
Unsettled, as any boy would be, he glanced back at me.
Wry smile, how could he know how my heart raced?
Leo sat next to Billy, amused by this interaction.
Because of his demeanor, it was Leo I asked to the dance.
Turned out Leo couldn’t dance,
though conversation was no problem.
Leo spent the entire night talking about being an Eagle Scout --
tying knots, marking trails, building campfires --
seemed we had little in common.
No chemistry at all, but Leo said, “Thank you,” at the dance’s end.
For years I spent many days wondering
what if I’d slipped Billy an invitation note,
instead of lobbing paper balls?
Perhaps he would have said, “Yes.”
I might have had my first embrace;
maybe even my first kiss.
Years later at a school reunion
Billy looked more handsome than ever;
served as CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation.
He introduced me to his pretty wife
as the girl who pitched paper balls at his head.
*True story for Carol Brown’s “First Date” contest. (Some folks were lucky to have
more romantic first dates. LOL)
(Part 5 of 5)
And no more your kids will get a chance above mine
Because at my work I’ve never even met the bosses
You see we were able to hold our own before
And keep the wolves from the door
I could even see a future....for us all
But this we are now struggling to do since your
Husband and his friends have shut the door
This is not just yours and their country you know
Your playground, your way, you always first
The protection of power, privilege and money
Which you think you can have until the end of your days
No way
Why are your children worth more opportunities than mine?
Just because your husband happens to be called something like ‘Kensington-Smythe’
And why are they encouraged to get used to this from an early age?
What happened to every child born the same?
So what can I ask you wife to wife?
To help us all provide for our families a decent life?
No more fiddling, expenses, and for everyone to pay their fair share
You or yours want a duck house, pet food or **** (I don’t judge you) - just pay for it yourselves
No letting the rich off towing the line
Make them behave with the values I try to instil in mine
All we need is democracy back
Although there’s no denying that it will probably get your husband the sack
Because if they let us have democracy – one person one vote
No lobbing, ‘donations’ or spin doctors - what a joke
Just a ballot box and a voter
With a pen in hand
Making a fair decision as to what they think is best for this land
Without being pulled this way and that by promises that will never be
Supported by marketing, trickery and celebrity
But I don’t think this will be so
Because if they every gave us that
This would be when changes would start to happen
And I know that now YOU would be in fear
Because if we got democracy back in 2015
You wouldn’t be living like this time next year
Anna Archichek
According to the dictates of Suzy Berlinsky,
a Hello Poetry sibilant chargé d'affaires
female equivalent, sans Grand Poobah
aye surmise she deems my preference
favoring lower case, especially taking
a figurative page from thee poetic play
book of e.e. cummings, (not to be con-
fused with Elijah E. Cummings, thee
American, and United States Democrat
representing Maryland's majority dark
skinned precinct of Baltimore County
seventh congressional district), whose
shadow of fame diminished, but flagrant
flapping flaunting Puritanical principles
tantamount to in traducing taboos up-
ending ala revolutionary lampooning
his trademark imprimatur guilt frisson
faculty of his to delve into controversial
material blatantly candidly devotedly ex
pressing thoughts, sentiments, and re-
flexes skewed asper an irreverent teas-
zing exuberance flouting orthodox re-
finery by playfully making mince meat
of long cherished, fixed, and insulated
mores as shock treatment technique to
exhibit parsimonious, opprobrious, and
noxious malice lobbing fondness for
writing without heeding thy fondness
NOT CAPITALIZING the first person
singular pronoun, i, an upside down
exclamation point, whose dot eye see
clearly despite the fierce maelstrom!
flametip riders
last call brass doll
suitcase in hand
howling at empty rafts
fire consumed deck
tickling rain flaked boot lace
frozen slices of polar existence
hanging from great western ship gallows
spinning blind eyes in the technicolor night dream
invisible fury shamanic invocations
floating in a dark lonely bottle
seven charkras forty oms
military mantras blazing drones
starboard we toss the captains hind quarters
aging skeleton maps drawn by green phantom winds
lobbing lucifer’s cold shoulder as we blind dive for answers
through frosted airs to the warbling wobble beat wharf
tattoed tugboat arms toss frayed
white flowers and free passes to afterlife’s
comfort lounge
Quintessence of radiance in the days of utter dark,
Unparallel among the guides, fairly upto the mark,
An advocate with plenteous, bounteous sincerity,
Invincible, feared neither wolf’s howl nor dog’s bark.
Decent in manners, humble and modest in being,
Efficacious in thinking, alert and vigilant in seeing,
Adhesive to the mission, incarnated embodied truth,
Zeal and zest packed rider on the steed galloping.
An aspiring figure, to the secured harbour he rowed
Majestically steering the lobbing ship, never bowed,
Malicious he was to none but clang to the just cause,
Undaunted he was and accomplished what he vowed.
Harmonious and integral he was in saying and deed,
Adroit and perfect guide he was in faith and creed,
Manly, steadfast, sagacious he was in his dealings,
Meticulous model he was on the hazy road to lead.
Adept he was who outwitted rivals with great skills,
Dignified who led safely through mounds and hills,
Admonished he the nation about the hidden traps,
Laudable whom pay homage, respect rivers and rills.
Incorruptible, whom from the hearts we all adore,
Jeopardizing his comforts, he brought us all ashore,
Indulgent, who never beguiled the trusting people,
Nullified he the opponents who succeeded no more.
Navigated, ransacked he the seas at an early age,
Apostle of faith, truth who broke the confining cage,
Humane, humble he was yet he won the homeland,
Muhammad Ali Jinnah written on history’s each page.
Dropping verbs with my vice and inverse
ITS VICE VERSA
Mocking birds with my wings and it hurts
I TWICE BURNT 'ya
Lobbing 22 rounds a second
THATS ALL YOU GOT BOY
I get all points just give me a minute
You may have heard of the words and of those
whom spit fire
But i am liquid nitrogen i recieve souls within wires
You may have heard of the hurds and of the birds that
preach to choirs
I suppose and transpose and polarize...who isthe flyer
I digress in excess to the mass of last living
Loook deep inside...you will hear the wringing
I laugh to some like singing so
My craft like love so bleading glows
I refuse your refuge and dialate
Mind "uck....soul stuck....no tyrate
See my heart it bleeds music
I float in colors to you .....translucent
My mind it breeds fusion
On no... and all levels.....to you....a most pleasant illusion
I designed your confusion
As to align your good nature
Circa April 17th, 2120, or 1820 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
Born twenty years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.
Friday the thirteenth, (September
tooth house hind nineteen)
dark shadows winessed scads of bats
(base sic cully lobbing soupy Matzo balls)
eyeing yours truly as seldom seen
human sacrificial cuisine,
which dime a dozen story true story
red within tabloid National Enquirer 'zine.
Minus blood sucking mammals more averse
than bill collectors or insurance companies
bared fangs greeted yours truly courtesy
of bloodthirsty nurse
triggering instantaneous qualm
ordinarily, I dune hot feel averse
nor nain availing one arm or the other,
wherein needle tip doth stick
prominent vein, yet an idling hearse
unwittingly induced heightened alarm,
on flip Wilson side... sense and sensibility
awoke regarding no impact upon purse
anyway death could never as worse
compared to hand to mouth
dirty deeds done... dirt poor curse.
A deep inhalation induced relaxed state
courtesy ujjayi breath
filled lungs to alleviate
(yea right slim/fat chance analogous
to one sniveling, mutering, groveling...
writer wannabe called upon to curate)
quirky rhyming scribblings
attempting to pass muster
easily, joyfully, worthily...
declared poet laureate
hence hastily erected castle
in the sky fate
meeting divine heavenly lorded
tailor tete a tete
gradually alleviated helter skelter
mental condition within pate
experienced sudden calm
displaced initial panic, thus great
ecstasy donned "FAKE" trumpeting guise
knowing within short shrift
death would assimilate
me, while providing fancy feast
where Desmodontinae
would undulate
this vampire weekend,
aware I prevaricate
and horrible anecdote purely
meant to demonstrate
how believability easily
wrought to fascinate
(ha) captive audience,
he/she exhibiting skeptical trait
might doubt claim (mine), who as inmate
within human zoo forced to risk death
defying daredevil metier height
figurative tightrope walker I gyrate
balanced on iambic foot in toto
all the while able to coordinate
vaguely flowing continuity
eventually metaphorical
erythrocytes coagulate.
A garden sun chases our ginger cat.
Dad watches World War Two
up close on the TV
he grinds his teeth,
a general forced to take a back seat.
Mother in the kitchen,
not her natural territory.
She opens cupboards exploring contents.
It is a blue and white kitchen
made of trees that died in 1964.
She shakes a martini like a
blind cardsharp. Her wrists
heron bones
that click a gold-toothed chain.
Flashes of recollection
follow me up beige carpeted stairs.
Small bathroom-toilet to the right,
where once I saw mum naked.
Oedipus lives down the hall
as a young teenager.
From my window
I see the long narrow garden
with its back gate.
Passion-flower crosses
entwining pine boards.
When the Nazi Storm Troopers come
I will fire down at them
lobbing hissing grenades
that land like angry cats
onto their fleeing backs.
Charley company lives in Vietnam
they shoot from the hip.
I am not sure which side
of this on-going war they are on.
In my British school atlas
America is colored, blue or yellow,
not Empire red like us.
A patriotic gas stirs vague imaginings.
A knock on my bedroom door.
I can hear myself breathing heavily,
as I jerk off. Keep out!
Mum pauses to catch her breath.
She is out of uniform,
and speaking in Slo Mo
to a camera in my head.
Bright
in the night
ladders of light
pools
for planes in sight
Rumble
and grumble
the roar of the guns
splatter
and cracker
Yes I was young
but the fear of the gun
lobbing from Hayes Common
protecting the Biggin
lives in the memory
I do enjoy verbal tennis
wordplay may be a game
outwit outsmart the opponent
is the only aim
lobbing phrases across the net
volley and rally back and forth
no one's a loser and yet
those precious few
who think on their feet
will always win have you beat
Shakespeare is the all-time champ
merely a player with poem and sonnet
through thick and thin he'd go for a spin
and put some English on it
it's fun for all with no balls or calls
and if your serve is up to scratch
unless words fail
at the thought you quail
it's word game set and match
Unrelenting blitzkrieg deadly
assault upon psyche
pounded defenseless
vulnerable mindscape accustomed
to shelter within aproned crease
mama proffered manna, especially
when untethered meek docile lad
subjected to blistering hellfire
infamous hoodlums wantonly unleashed
verbal bombardments lobbing poison
spear tipped invisible blackened barbs
manifold times more agonizing
piercing, targeting, xraying...
guaranteed fatal skull and crossbones
unseen insignia wrought utmost damage
one hundred percent accuracy
ferociously besieging, jackknifing, pummeling...
successfully character assassinating,
a diminutive boy cursed with ideal traits
strongly tempted, delectably savored,
violently bullied (short of physical
stature violated, though seditious)
emotional violation wrought lifelong
oppressive worthlessness complimented
amply by absolute zero self confidence
distilled thru conception in utero
until parturition on a bitterly cold
January thirteenth (apparently small,
medium forces at large, sans right
buffalo wing conspiracy) instigating
ear splitting wailing testing threshold
of tolerance, no crying game, but
palpable anatomical and physiological
dislocations afflicting yours truly
with breathing difficulty courtesy
submucous cleft palate pronouncing
strong nasality, when acquiring speaking
ability more cause to ridicule upon
commencing attendance within Lower
Providence School District, where kids
said nastiest, meanest, foulest, cruelest...
unsolicited comments pointedly jabbing air
mocking severe twang plus pigeon toed gait
the latter rectified with custom made
contrivance crafted by papa that forced
little feet turned outward during sleep,
which less significant aberration became
corrected as I got older, but self shaming
and blaming assimilated thru incessant
intimidation, inundation, invitation...
passive personality tacitly allowed,
provided, and enabled entire classroom
to assail helpless looking human creature
'pon entering home burst into tears!
Mosque cowed covenant I keep Putin off...
and withheld broadcasting
the following communication
tucked away these many years,
when president number forty five
donned, jump/kick started, and tweeted
thru his musky, albeit flabby mantle,
a rallying cry forewarning onset of Mag(m)a
bubbling, gurgling, lobbing, and spewing lava
against backdrop of his trumpeting vitriolic
political preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation tomb mike -
(make) pence sieve lee clear,
the immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans incendiary fold
drawl (folderol) feigning migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting older than Methuselah),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
adorned, donned with (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent - bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
to flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will laughably petrify
any vigilantes dead cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
gobbledygook communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how I plan to hold
world web electronically hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark wide whirled web
cryptocurrency bitcoin blockchain trolled
under auspices, sans
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten free CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily monitoring
meant to fortify electronic threads
woven into a virtual tapestry
likened to Dickensian chain e-mail
intent to foment pandemonium
at expense to captcha totalitarianism,
whereby democracy imperiled.
The luckless leper’s lousily lobbing
Lame libel at Lords and Ladies along
His lonesome lane, a lizard in limbo
Loafing on his lowly laurels, laughing.