Best Movers Poems
cracking and peeling
the skin of cool walls crawling
chameleons sigh
October 1st 2018
Composed For Anthony Slausen's
The Paint Mover(s) Poetry Contest
Categories:
movers, animal,
Form:
Haiku
I slid the slider to my art studio with cautious optimism,
Hoping to find my brushes and glitter and paint and glue
Somewhere close to where I had left them last night.
The bright pink paint I had specifically placed front and center was missing.
Let us not jump to conclusions, my socialized mind said. Maybe it was not last night.
Maybe you put it there the night before last night.
We were not out here the night before, my dendrites argued after they had connected last night’s thinking.
My paint water was in its usual place. My brushes were where I had left them.
I usually use thirty to forty brushes a day, so there is no way to tell if they had been moved or were missing.
Everything else appeared to be exactly as it was yesterday.
I immediately began convincing myself that I must have moved that neon leather paint at the last second before turning and shutting the slider.
Faeries and elves do not paint in here I argued.
That is absurd and realistically unsound. Right?
But what if they do move the paint, dancing and twirling through it? Creating new magic with their little ballerina shoes?
What if they come in here and slide across the canvases, dropping glitter and enhancing my stuff?
What if they are like the shoemaker elves, fixing my mistakes in the middle of the night?
Thinking I had heard a tiny little patter of a faerie foot, I turned and looked at my art table.
Whereby sat the hot pink neon paint that was not there a moment before.
What if?
Written 10-3-2018 Poetry Contest: The Paint Movers
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Categories:
movers, fairy, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
*Image of Lovers Night by Pinterest.
Tale of The Night Movers
Hail, a phantom moon
traversing its cloaked
chambered recesses
of her prevalent crown.
Unspool gently and host
minding eyes immersed
within your ethereal pull
exacting Cupid's pursuit
impresses dependably.
Slay suspicious initiatives
yond hints of their riddled
hearts pausing serenity
and tryst capers a fullness
until dawning climbs to a
whispering.
Anticipatory confidences
secure immature adoration,
gift a sense of a certain fling,
for shared planned proof that
sensorial alliance is immortal.
Abiding hearts, minds, and
souls and that its permanence
lingers in all three entities to
be truly entrusted versus all
hardships that dare.
Any challenge purposeth
distraction swayed to disrupt
sanctioned harmony and
impose their nightly fight and
an easy win over the weak.
Lovers supposed union is but
a temporal existence, and
Cupid's aim slumbered apiece,
held in stasis as hostages host
for thoughts to fester.
A mire of serendipity and wished
upon measures of advice, out
from this unlit pullback of the
unimaginative lost, but hail to
the victorious and glorious.
Righteous grit encountering the
opaque influences of damaging
desires to hoodwink the candid
that wore down night's ethical
battle and fortuitous claim.
Justified inevitableness outlasts
twilight's hold by conquering the
gloaming tripped-upon dawn's
call ends nightmarish corps to
collapse.
Cherubs reward a star's chariot
ascent who condones a handheld
coursing and are hereby blessed
with a kiss of permanence and a
dreamt descent.
2022 July 30
Categories:
movers, extended metaphor, good night,
Form:
Metrical Tale
It’s up to us movers and shakers in this world
to get things done that need doing.
You and I know full well that others will sit still and wait,
for us to get the old pot stewing.
The movers and shakers are lonely at the top,
but that is their residence by choice.
It is they who get things done and make all the plans,
and the ones who aren’t afraid to raise their voice.
Categories:
movers, inspirational, voice,
Form:
Rhyme
PAINT MOVERS
As dawn lifts the darker veil of night
On spectrum of colours' soft wings fresh day arrives
Holding palette to paint emotions of delight
Bursting from land of prism rainbow skies
Light of sparkling mid-day
Wide dreamy yonder devoid of shadows
Painting shades of mauve keeping sadness at bay
In mind myriad tinged moments glow
With the approaching, early evening
Memories fill rooms of heart and mind
With soft breeze, ocean of feelings oscillating
Afterthoughts soaked in tints unfeigned
Sundown light dull fading to twilight's black
Looking beyond has cool tinctures of moonscapes' gleam
Calm, shady boughs on night's canvas dark
Night's silhouette crossing through soul's realms
Falling curtains of a day less special
Reels of kaleidoscope kept intact for following day
Paint mover,nature effortless burble of time with perfection
Turning twisting sparkled by memories ray
17/10/2018
Categories:
movers, appreciation, beauty,
Form:
Quatrain
People are
Moved by honesty
Stirred by sincerity
Motivated by integrity
Encouraged by this reality
Categories:
movers, faith, family, friendship, hope,
Form:
Didactic
The Queen of England exists in a sphere
Of opulence, hygiene, crystals and clear
The Queen of England, between me and you
Is oblivious of the fact, that all is not true
The Queen of England is surrounded by maids
Valets and footmen, horse guard parades
The Queen of England has nothing and much
Closeted, nurse maided and kept out of touch
Once in a while , when she steps out of her bubble
An army of subjects remove, Englands rubble
They brush up and clean all, make everything quaint
Repairmen, road sweepers and the movers of paint
They fill in the pot holes and paint roads with new grey
So the Queen of England can continue her way
The Queen of England thinks it’s always like this
Hygienic and colourful, ecstacy and bliss
When the movers of paint, paint the grass with new green
Moving litter and dog plop so all is so clean
They paint the grass greener than grass could be green
So the Queen of England thinks everything is clean
They paint up the sky with a light shade of blue
Then repaint the clouds whiter, I tell you, it’s true
They paint all the flowers to make everything be quaint
This army of menders and the movers of paint
They repair all the buildings and freshen the park
Thus the Queen of England, she stays in the dark
When The Queen of England has ended her tour
Back safe in her bubble of opulence and more
An army of subjects, they down tools and they stop
Britain returns back to pot holes and dog plop
Litter, drug packets adorn all that was made quaint
By repairmen, road sweepers and the movers of paint.
One day the bubble, like all bubbles, will blow
The Queen, her Majesty, will have nowhere to go
Except out on the streets, where nothing is quaint
No repairmen, no road sweepers and no movers of paint
Categories:
movers, allusion,
Form:
Rhyme
MORTALS like you and I can do great and mighty things.
We can OPEN locked doors without assigned keys. We
can operate UNDER the circumstances or in spite of them.
We NEVER say never or accept the first 'No' for an answer.
We THRUST ourselves into all that we believe in and
ANSWER truly without fear of consequences. We
refuse to be confused without inquiry. We realize
that NOW is the only time that we have to excel.
MONEY is not a motivator for moving mountains.
There is something far superior to material things
that energizes us to do what seems impossible.
OPPORTUNITY often knocks at non-opportune times.
VICTORIES thrill best when we have known defeats.
ENERGY flows from the backs of confidence and faith.
We must RESIST the devil and his lies, and he will flee
from us. We must STAND for something or fall for anything.
Categories:
movers, confidence, faith, god,
Form:
Free verse
This was the seventh time we'd moved,
In the wee morning before the sunrise
But somehow, I could feel God approved
And there'd be a great beginning apprised
Once we lived way out in the country
I'd watch the daily train pass by
Swinging in a tree swing hungry
Boy, how those days were on the fly
Before that move, seems I remember
I was asleep in my home in the city
Towards the ending of December
Woke in a rural area pretty
We fled by night, time after time
But finally, one home stayed
I learned so much about earth's slime
Moving by night place to place afraid
One last move, in the light of morn
Another chance for a better life formed
I knew this was it, some stability norm
Life's opportunities to be transformed
Apprise-made aware of, increased in value
Date: 01-11-2023
Sponsor: Hilo Poet
Contest: Metrical Tale
Categories:
movers, 2nd grade,
Form:
Metrical Tale
The Paint Movers.
The old boat sits in the dry dock. Layers of shabby paint covering the vessel. The boat wears a mask of magnanimity, like a woman about to apply a mud pack.
The old boat has a date with the cosmetic warrior's, who come clothed like space-men, in white overalls, rubber gloves, and goggles. She is being undressed, they delete the surface layers of residue.
Exfoliate, her with solvent, attack her with the tools of their trade. Caustic scumble her hull. The old boat is being cleansed with a formula, scrubbed like a dirty step. The cosmetic space-men reveal her clean skin.
The face mask has worked, the cosmetic warriors claim their victory. They hop about as if doing a moon walk. The years of wear and tear have gone. The old boat has a new lease of life.
Anthony Slausen
5/10/2018.
Categories:
movers, boat, space,
Form:
Free verse
Echoes of their squalling,
finally interferes with my slumber.
Opening my eyes,
to see the pensive faces of the ladened.
And my ears,
to the ear-splitting shrill of the piteous.
Showing me their greatest fears,
Slowing becoming reality before their eyes.
I have seen for myself,
brothers smothering one another.
As a new era seeks recognition,
Iniquity impetuously taking its position.
Tardily becoming the order of the day.
Shortly to be a disease we cannot contain.
Categories:
movers, conflict, confusion, how i
Form:
Blank verse
Date: June 2045
Damali was in the mood to gain
Knowledge. who better to learn
From? Then the Major Maverick
Master my favorite uncle. Damian."
He sought Damian. Found him in
His den. "Hey Dad, I came to
Check you. I'd like to watch you
Work listen to you talk. Wanna
Know how you operate."
Damian leaned back in his
Comfortable chair and said,
"Yeah, alright. Don't day dream
Pay attention."
Damali said, "Dad I was attentive
From the door! I am ready to learn!"
Damian made a call. He could
Use Skype but he chose the old
Way but... Instead he changed his
Original plan and used Skype to
Contact his stock broker.
He pressed a button beneath his
Desk and large screen slowly
Unfolded from the ceiling.
"Hey Butch Bhutan how's my major
Stock!?" Talk to me!"
I want the run down." Butch gave
Him a full report including the
Latest hotest stock. "Hey Damian
Your luxury car stock is outstanding!"
"Alright! I want the revenue from
That and sell the weakest
Performing. I want to buy 30 shares
Of gold." And be sure I have the
Best benefits on my realty. Don't
Slip man." Butch Bhutan chuckled
Okay okay Damian you're the boss!"
"I'll catch you man."
After that Damian used the old
way to contact the builders and
Architects in Trinidad to obtain information
On the progress of the two hotels
He was having erected on his
Property. He had the information
He wanted. The two hotels will be
Complete in 5 years or less but
He wanted the progression of
The process expedited. He said
"Hey Maxim I want this damn
Process rushed expedite it!"
"Right it!! Max!" After Damian
was done with his employees
Discussion he asked, "So Damali
My man what do you think can
You handle this life."
Damali refused reveal his whole
View. "Yeah Dad. You know.
Of course I'm Damali Trech."
I'm learning from the best!!"
Damali stood and left Damian's den
Headed to the nearest intercom
To call Desharah. He dialed her
Room number 52. She answered
"Hey Damali, state your business."
Damali said, "My business is you.
Meet me on the front lawn."
Categories:
movers, allusion, halloween,
Form:
Alliteration
Movers of the night
Spear me for my tears has
Just arrived
Cold winds of the night
Take care of me
And embrace my mind
to refresh more
Hot waters, touch my skin
In places no one knows
Dark light, please light up the room
But don't shine so bright
For my tears would be seen
Spirits of the night
Don't stare at me, I'm as terrified
As you are but harmless
As a single tear
As much as you would love
To live nothing can bring you
Back
Tell me what you want
But kill what hates
Silent floor, don't move
Don't say a word, just keep calm
The morning hour will soon be here
Be as silent as the heart but cry
Like my tears
Tress be still
Nothing can disturb your sleep now
Try and find peace, nothing can
Scare you in this horrific night
Trees find refuge in the Lord
And leave find refuge in the tree
And I shall find refuge in these tears
Words keep flowing, I am listening
Tears keep falling, I can't help it
Winds keep breezing, I am cold
Floor be still, I won't wait
And heart be calm, I won't hurt you
No more
Categories:
movers, beauty, cry, dark, night,
Form:
Free verse
No comfort for the stickler, sticking literary fixtures depicting conflicting inklings to their minds as perfect pictures.
With one stroke of my pen the standards rose again and damned be lesser men.
As the pros of prose impose and profess, chaos needs redress.
For I, who's distress you must address, now cower and cleanse this mess, confess my prowess only serves to impress all reason to, "stop the press".
Anachronistic the measure of their metric, imperialistic so the eccentric can spiral in tantric concentric circlejerks.
Central to themselves, it works.
The stench of sh!t, a rose by any other name, smeared with effluent smirks.
With all due respect you may cling to the historic.
If you wish to press/play, I will lay waste.
I'm not here to copy/paste.
The past won't be replaced, though clearly trampled and retraced.
Finding you're fittingly faced with chagrin laden grimace feeding bitter distaste.
Thou is to doth o'er and o'er, as men of the cloth in unrestrained glory.
Touting the gospel loudly and poorly, wholly unaware it's a fairytale story.
Categories:
movers, poetry, writing,
Form:
Free verse
History is history drawn by observation to attract
Up and down motion
The thought of the old Dinosaur Escalators at Macy’s Herald Square
The old fossil’s still work
It gets Macy’s customers from selling floor to selling floor
They still work for sure
I know, I worked at the Macy’s Herald Square Tower for 38 Years on the 13th Floor of the Corporate Executive Office
Those old escalators were established since Macy’s Herald Square was built in brick and mortal
I can assure you I am not a fixture, and wasn’t around when Macy’s Herald Square was put together
Let’s just say I made history working for Macy’s, but I could be considered a Legend
However, I was around during the real MIRACLE ON 34th of the
MACY’S and GIMBEL’S era
The old escalators are still in effect and they have history of their own
No mystery
The old escalators are tour attractions to see in being accompanied in Macy’s Herald Square past and current of old and new.
Categories:
movers, adventure, age, appreciation, art,
Form:
Free verse