Best Make Like Poems
I ask for your help
I have never been too proud to beg
Beg your pardon
Beg for a morsel of your time
Time to write a different script
Time undertakes my logic
Logic has never been my strongest point
Logic lacks what I need
Need bounces off my equilibrium
Need feeds off yesterday's mistakes
Mistakes I repeat
Mistakes you never seemed to make
Make like a bird and fly away
Make your waves on a different ocean
Ocean line yourself out of here
Ocean spray your inconsistancies
Inconsistancies with a capital C
Inconsistancies I can't see
See me walk
See me run
Run past forward
Run further away
Away from the thing I was
Away from your simple
Simple pleasures
Simple mind
Mind playing tricks on me
Mind over your matter
Matter of facts I didn't understand
Matter converted to energy
Energy that cost too much
Energy we both wasted
Wasted on yesterday
Wasted on nothing
Nothing ever really lasts
Nothing is nothing but a whisper
Whisper insanity in my ear
Whisper until my mind erases you
You have consumed me for too long
You who drip from your empty
Empty cup
Empty promises
Promises I hung my hat on
Promises you never meant to keep
Keep away from me
Keep what I can't have
Have my dreams
Have a cup of my broken
Broken
Dreams
I read Debbie Guzzi's poem and thought I would give the form a try.
Oh how very earnestly pleasing
I do so find
The wide, sun splashed avenues
Of grand residential Worthing;
Where the old poets
Announce each and every corner;
So neatly squared and turned
By thoroughly conceived Victorian
Order.
Quiet sonnets reside here
Seeking haven from weary
travels,
Sustained by appetizing foreign
aromas,
Loitering amidst the long drawing
shadows;
Clinging to the flinted garden walls,
Dallying with the scented Jasmine
From where hidden finches call.
Finding yourself gently led down
And into narrow, high walled
streets;
That delightfully converge upon
Bustling open spaces
Where the multi-nations meet;
And greet with quarrelsome gulls,
Strutting and yarking,
Barking like little dogs
Around our feet.
Here we can absently sit,
And make like carefree Parisians
Separated by an English sea,
Whilst contentedly sipping scalding
coffees
Of exciting continental styles;
And forgetting our mundane
troubles...
Smile and laugh, for perhaps,
Just the shortest of whiles.
The hospital corridors are silent
but outpatients reception is busy,
muffled voices are heard behind closed doors,
a shuffling dressing gown stalks the silent halls
in fluffy slippers pushing a drip stand,
waiting patients just in from the cold
disrobe. "Heather" the tannoy remarks,
assessment room three is empty for you,
"Heather" departs, a young girl is frightened
she hug her mum tight, a blood test awaits,
it won't hurt much she says, just a little jab.
appointment for 9 but no movement by 10,
a white uniform amazon appears,
seven vials of blood later I'm let go,
Ray of the X-Ray takes me in tow, strip off
he says chin on the bar make like the chicken.
chest out, big breath, hold it, relax and breath,
you're wearing a cross, chin on the bar,
big breath, hold it, hold it, hold it, relax.
back to reception tell them you're done,
now pay 6.50 for a latte and biscuit,
you've been done, should have had a water.
A Con-man's way out
Only in cases of emergency
Like the fire axe behind the glass
Only this is more deadly
Way more sketchy
Die with the lie
A mark gets wise
Gets hip to the jive
Catches on
Smells the cheese getting stinky
Eyes shift as reality comes to light
Can't let them find out it's all a lie
Make a decision!
It's about to get hinky!
Confidence is gone and it's time to fly
Make like some titties and bounce
Only one way out!
The Toledo Panic Button!
Outside the group that's outside the box
seeing inside the outside Im shocked
how you shape our fate as it knocks
on imaginations and what they concoct
My dream craves standards, but they take work
here efforts actualize ideals
tough labors haunt tall morals that lurk
conscience yielding obsession's appeals
Then I want to want like I need
I want to make like I eat
and overgrow like a weed
lead the way as the street
Chance is the string in front of the cat
you wiggle it and they start to hunt
powerless to hope, now a door mat
contours the form of fantasy's brunt
My dream yearns for spirit's fruition
This needs my best and the will to provide
Then integrity tugs ambition
then my drive to succeed won't subside
And I want to want like I need
I want to make like I eat
and over grow like a weed
lead the way as the street
Outside the outside wants inside the inside
thirst and honor feeds the ride
swallow and beg with my mouth open wide
for virtue to lead the way of the guide
What if the city streets rolled up, and Malthus resurrected
As the sun rose at night and stars skipped upon the sea?
What if the tales of doom were doomed, and earth opened
Like an egg and hatched to flight her neo-phoenix brood
Where honeysuckle bloomed amid bears and bees?
What if the peace of Jerusalem arrived spontaneously, the golden
Dome first melted red in the blood of Abraham, and cousins celebrated
In ashes and sackcloth for their plenitude of sin and sacrilege,
For coveting evil eyes and murdering prophets, and for child sacrifice—
Before dancing all together like David, reciting of God’s marriage?
What if the desert ran to color without the rain, done with waiting
And sprang out in berries, plums, pomegranate, and an aviary symphony?
What if a stump burned and chopped found one quick root, and from its side
Shot up a branch, a remnant that billowed forth a bush of life, white
With flowers and nests with throbbing shells colored in rainbows?
What if dominants turned to making peace, became servants of the poor?
What if politicians spoke the truth and people heard it wisely,
Inspired to make, like neurons’ matrixes, neighbors of all, blessed
And provoked to evolve together, free, as one individuality?
What if poetry was said as child and adult put to bed, and arose?
What if science discovered everything was alive, sentient,
And rocks and trees indeed sang witness of their source,
Every molecule in hum and dance, and each cell alive
Communicating with every other of love’s energy and meaning?
What if veils were shorn so beauty’s every face could be seen?
Yet all of these—what if—are common small compared to expectations
True, that the door on which I knock is also knocking—with the reality of you.
In the valley of the culprits
be patient.
Remain planted on your legs
to be struck
by the newcomers and leaving them
never look behind you,
so that each one can see
the hairstyle on the nape of your neck.
In the valley of the culprits
while insults fuse
do not say anything, especially
make like the nightingale which ate a blackberry
while the human one depreciates.
The bump at the end of your nose
must not have an impact on your spirit.
Know that your language burns if you eat while pricking
and your backyard burns if you speak bitterly.
Above all
forget your mother, and your father.
It is not necessary to worry about their fate
or that they are weakened physically
and drag themselves along.
Do not say anything.
Drop...
Let your efforts break down.
Let the mast be reversed...
Carry on your way simpering.
If you see a fallen friend
above all have no feeling
no pity
and if you have envy, give him another kick.
Do you know that nobody is thinking of you at this moment?
If you come across a large turkey
cut its throat without saying anything to anybody
and eat it!
Have no panic, remain still
where you are well hidden!
In any event
You are in the valley of the culprits.
You will be viewed badly if you work much.
You will be driven out if you speak the truth.
You will be crushed
if you go the way of love.
You will be beaten in various ways
if you resist tyranny.
You know
that there are things not to be neglected.
In any event
you are in the valley of the culprits
Be pitiless!
You know that integration is spoken about uniquely,
that at least your indentity card is like theirs.
One demands it from you insistently.
If in spite of all you do not like
all that I have just said
do what you want, act according to your desires
as well as your accomplishments.
One never knows
Perhaps you will be accepted!
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris, le 04.11.2004
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick – 05.12.2004
Half a home, half a home,
Half a home conjured.
Into the jaws of skip
…….goes all we plundered.
Clear out the crap we said
Make like we now are dead
Into the jaws of death
…….our waste was thundered.
Get rid of all the ****
we must not keep one bit
Time now to throw it out
…….in the skip laundered.
Sorted before we die
Life’s reason flying by
Ignoring plea full cry
…….clearout was ordered.
Memories to right of us
Memories to left of us
Memories we now must push
…….why so we wondered.
Things that we knew so well
Things that we could not sell
Into the jaws of hell
…….all now was lumbered.
Stripping our house near bare
Why then do we despair
Should we now even care
Shedding the things we wear
…….necessity hovered.
Plunged into frantic haste
Plunged into needful waste
Choices on logic based
Leaving our life unlaced
…….why are we bothered.
Old memories never fade
Of the shared choices made
Even when you‘re dismayed
don’t count the price you paid
…….when sunshine was thundered.
Back from the jaws of hell
New home that suits us well
Honour the choices made
Memories that never fade
…….not shattered and sundered.
Ivor G Davies
You see me at my birth,
Like a fresh flesh dumbbell;
Sing lullabies with mirth,
As silent as mumble;
Ease me, in quilt of care, lest I fall and crumble...
You fix your eyes on me,
At my sleep dream and wake;
Tingles and smiles in me,
You make like fancies fake;
My psycho-physical soul-soothing solace sake...
My childhood you take care,
Like hens to their chicks do;
Adulthood with joys fair,
Like petals and blooms, glue;
Crystal-like, my thought and words, you make glassy true...
When I face test of death,
When God calls me home back;
My body with no breath,
Lies like a torn rag sack;
You pave, for my journey, a peace-filled divine track...
May my moments, betwixt,
Beams of hope, Angel dear!
May my mind and heart fixed,
On God the polestar rear;
Thus, may my grave, heavenly womb-like comfort bear...!
12 December 2021
''A'' Forms, New Poems, 10 or more lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Sweet like berry
Sour like skittles
Tongue wrapped riddles
Red knot cherry
Make like bunny
Run from the fox
Trip on the rocks
Meet bears called gummies
Call me your date
threw you number
Your another gonner
Its on my taurus fate
Piss in gold
Kiss in pink
Clean in stink
Let life's legacy unfold
**Every word tells a story.Look within the words and you will find the tale**
I see you’ve larked with fairy friends,
On bough, in fields, near brooks -
Pebbles skim the water’s edge;
Jump skip, jump skip, hop - over brook…
‘Which side is greener?’ Asked the Dragon mare.
‘The bough of tree bridges brook - both sides have I tested’,
Says the fairy brave, but correcting honour charges -
‘From deep within the wizards’ field-view, safe!’
Adventure and foreign lands lay claim,
To imaginations fervent and fertile;
Treasures sought, leisure - larking be sought;
Toil is not for fairy folk!
‘Pray why, Dragon mare, do you enquire so?’
‘My thoughts to share with fairy folks? Ah!
‘I the pool have mastered so,
Can stir and stir the pool - like so.’
‘Watch the ripples in the pond,
Lapping and distorting so,
Muddy muddles shall I make - like so,
And in the commotion you shall I fake - like so!’
‘Watch the images of you and I…
Wish, I watch you say good bye!
Good bye! Good bye! Good bye!
The seeds I sow, like so - good bye!’
Images of Dragon and Fairy Reflecting,
Did merge in muddy muddles so,
But Dragon’s arm grew tired and weak,
Of turning and turning the pond so deep.
And wide and deep it grew as muddy muddles she did sow,
Till all around it would allow!
Tis not the way of the strongest bough,
To be broken by the Dragon’s breath.
Hence the bending bough that fringed the pond,
Did listened to the wailing Dragon sow,
The Dragon’s breath whistled, like wind;
Messages on air laid bare.
And bye the bye, time did pass,
Then all awaited with baited breath,
For the wind to change direction so.
And so it came - wind sowed did reap!
And in the pond ripples that lapped the sides,
Had changed direction so,
All engulfing did the Dragon find,
The successive waves that lapped her mind.
What a bind, the waves they lapped her mind!
‘Tis not the fairy that blinds me so,
But the bough that bends and shades the pool, like so,
And shades the reflection that is mine no more.’
There deep beneath the water so,
Now visible is the reflecting fairy so!
Bough he bent down low,
And offered the fairy reflected espousal.
Light and vision in the pool, now so clear…
Bough he ought not disappear -
Should fairy drown without him near?
Aurora swims so, dear; ought she not the Dragon fear?
By Elton Camp
A girl called Little Red Riding Hood
Visited her grandmother like she should
It wasn’t long before she had to say
“Grandmother, you look an odd way.”
Her eyes and ears didn’t look okay
On Little Red, she intended to prey
Except it wasn’t her granny at all
‘Twas on a wolf she had paid a call
Same today with good Uncle Sam
Around him, better make like a clam
Big eyes and ears Old Unk is usin’
On communications of his choosin’
Certain key words it’s best to avoid
Lest your uncle become annoyed
Mistaken identity isn’t the case
It’s really your uncle you face
E-mail, text message, phone call
He is keeping records of ’em all
Upon a midnight knock at your door,
You find that something he did abhor
Grandpa, Make Like a Frog
By Elton Camp
Grandpa pulled his Caddy into the drive
For his semiannual visit he did arrive
A big mansion was where he resided
Much income his investments provided
“Hey, Grandpa,” Joey did exclaim
The little kid his visit did acclaim
“I want to hear you do it please”
He persisted with words like these
“Do what?” he said after a while
Joey’s face showed a happy smile
“A sound of a frog I want you to make”
“Joey, why that, for goodness sake?”
“Dad says we’ll be rich after you croak”
Joey’s dad, then, very nearly did choke
How I cherish idle days unfettered by a strict routine.
(Tho' I'm findin' such days fewer and farther in between!)
A day in which my spouse ain't delegatin' onerous chores,
Nor wants to chase after bargain sales at the local stores!
Pester me not 'til I've read the paper and worked the puzzle,
And have had a steamin' mug o'joe to savor and to guzzle.
I'll have some oatmeal to keep my cholesterol under control,
And later amble to the park for my daily stroll.
I won't even answer the phone when it persistently rings,
Or watch the news on the television and the doom and gloom it brings.
If Girl Scouts appear on my stoop sellin' cookies at my door,
I'll make like I ain't home and the little dears ignore!
I'm content to read a book with the cat a-snoozin' on my lap,
And later on, put the book aside to join him in a nap.
Perhaps I'll enjoy a rousin' rondo by Mozart on the radio.
Anon, I'll relish the grandeur of Pikes Peak from my patio!
I strive to live each day uncluttered with insalubrious despair,
Dreamin' inane dreams and buildin' useless castles in the air.
I'll end the day musin' on the porch, ponderin' the settin' sun.
Maybe tomorrow I'll do those things that today I've left undone!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
3d Place in "Tell Me About You" Contest - June 2010
All our Epitaphs
Lord only knows.
May my God make me worthy and my Devil make me fine.
For both they are at odds to own this soul of mine.
For though I"m never good at ever being bad,
I have this Cross to bare that makes me very sad.
If I could sell a fish or two a wealthy man I"d be,
some dough and bread to make, like a man from Galilee.
If I could tell a tale to catch a crowds attention
would I be lost for words, beyond all comprehension
could you believe my tale, that beggars all belief
a story oh so tall about a Joker and a Thief...
You and I
will die.
Hopefully above
or else we"ll fry.
Amen.