Best Ort Poems

The rimpledeeduggs klacklety splatt britly floaming,
Ere flamping drakkurz snazzle at elvitty gloaming;
Yon jamweezy wudderslimps gamwracks smotly crawling,
Hoytaling pagartrimps flotlessly wrothful in bawling!

Beete stell ere yethle...

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I'm Leaving (eventually)

I'm going to leave the planet 
never coming back
wave you all a quick goodbye 
as I vanish into black

Traverse the great elliptic 
skipping...

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Eine andere Art
Es ist eine andere Art
der Schönheit, 
wenn mein Finger
über den Bogen deiner Braue fährt.

Dein Ellenbogen zeigt 
mir das versteckte Glück,
das ich schon so...

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N otice me when I am in a mood to
   E valuate my every move!
V oice your opinion to
   E scape...

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continents apart
unique souls filled with blessings
bless one another
make the globe a better place
encourage love peace joy hope


Turkish

kitalar ayri
Kutsamalarla dolu benzersiz ruhlar
Birbirini korusun
Dünyayi daha iyi bir...

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Im stillen Kornfeld dort,
wo sie verborgen lag,
des Schnitters Sense,
da liegt jetzt sein Grab.
Und nur der Wind
verweht das letzte Wort,
das niemand mehr vernehmen mag.

Bezwinge deine Seele
und...

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For Paula Swanson's "Beseech" contest:
Prose Poetry Verse:



God has given the moon the stars.
He remains a God beyond the stars!!!
A year or two ago, "Ort" was...

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The hunger

Horrendous afternoon, breeze chose to be still
Dilapidated hut in the midst of the hill
Frail and fragile sat she at the threshold
Crying baby in lap...

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His name’s John, but they call him Jack
Got gamblin’ in his veins
He cowboys for the Lazy D
An’ plays cards when it rains

The other thing that’s...

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How do they do It? …….. By Peter Onyancha

I do not know.
They have been hungry for decades
Not an ort, piecemeal patience
The minister said, they should...

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I heard a sound
lilting like reed pipes
wending through air
grown heavy in dusklight
sultry and organic
rising from behind
a pasture heavy with
coarse hairs and droppings
horses and their liquid...

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Holds 
Each love
Anchored with
Reflections years
Tint

Sweet
Port keeps
All those loved
Cherished 'till time
Ends




... CayCay
March 17, 2019...

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His name's John, but they call him Jack.
The boy's got gamblin' in his veins.
He cowboys and don't give no slack,
But he plays poker when it...

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To craft a poem short,
one that cavorts,
holds court,
exhorts,
perhaps retorts
of sort
and not resort
to ***ort:
a sport
that does comport
in support
of a certain forte.


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H/T to Maurice Rigoler's The Art...

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This is the tempature
of what we live like today
feeling the distcomf
ort
and feeling the pain
oh I feel so strange 

rearrange the letters
and believe in faith
live life...

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