Best Pavlov Poems
My dear brother Butch,
Hair are the highlights of my week:
I got a job at the Hairway to Heaven salon!
Our motto: "We color your hair or dye trying"
When the interviewer said "I mustache you a question..."
I answered, "May I mullet over?"
Seriously, working there is a shear delight,
with some nice fringe benefits
They're a real cut above the rest
and I shave a lot of money on hair products...
I bought Dad a comb for Father's Day… I bet he'll never part with it
It is a long drive to the salon, but now I know all the short cuts
Oh hey, I know hair-growth seminars are not your style, but
call up your receding hairline buddies and comb on over!
It was great to see you last week, you are looking so trim!
I still feel terrible about the curling iron incident…
You can rest a-sheared I'll straighten it out
but I mussed warn you, you might get fro straighted
Just remember, $15 for a hairpiece is a small price toupée
You may not like short hair at first, but it will grow on you
...that's the mane thing
Did you hear Mom and Dad had a brush with death?
It was a very hairy situation with a real twist:
buzzing down the highway at a decent clip
someone tried to cut them off
Mom was ready to wig out, curl up and dye, but thankfully
Dad went to great lengths to avoid an accident
so there was no permanent damage
you had to see it to be-weave it
Ok, time for a couple of jokes to lighten the mood:
How does the man on the moon trim his hair?
Eclipse.
Why did Pavlov have such fabulous looking hair?
Conditioning.
Why do felines groom with their tongues?
They can't find their catacombs.
Why did the little girl watch "Black Stallion" more than "Babe"?
She liked pony tales more than pig tales.
What was the barber's sign before he went on vacation?
"Hair today, gone to Maui"
Did you hear about the novelty store selling fake piles of dung?
It was sham poo.
Just teasing!
Take hair,
Curly
Categories:
pavlov, hair, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
It is a quite Sunday morning
It was a weird outing in the evening
We saw fuming ashes
We saw failed elephants
We heard the tales of fallen petals
We saw drifting continents of love and lust
It was a quite Sunday morning after a tepid Saturday night
I saw many men sulking under the weight of their own dreams
I heard many women lustfully languishing their tongue twisters
They were all eloquent
They were all spellbound
They were castrated
A Carnival in the oddest of the hours
A Caricature of my self and many other selves
Our pulses were travelling to Venus, Mars and Pluto
We were simmering in the heat of the market mongers
We were boiler plates to the typecasted experiments in human nature
Have you heard about Pavlov
Who embarked on an experiment to create machines in human mindset
Have you learned about Vygotsky
Who smiled at the smiling babies and loved their zones of evolution
Have you wept when Maykovsky shot dead himself
His poetry must have been boiling faster than his heart impulses
When I end up embracing the dichotomies of Mikhail Bakhtin
I know I have become a scoundrel, polyglot, a hedonist, pagan beast
When this hetroglossia unfolds and scarlet fevers engulf the nations
Fear of languages, life and all sort of glass house effects will prevail
Do you know the fissures in your palace
Do you know if it is made of marble, mosaic, or even a piece of pitch blend?
Now I know only about primordial stones and shadows
Who build pyramids and prisons in the middle of stone hinged and laggard society
Who are in multitudes, nameless, nation-less, necro-manic living echoes
I live their turquoise blue rings, silver palms, their mythical fear of tortoises
I dig a grave to heal their zest for anarchy, and to unwound their zeitgeist
Categories:
pavlov, allegory, angst, beautiful, character,
Form:
Free verse
Having lived with a cat
for the past six years--
I am thoroughly convinced
that both
Pavlov and his dog
were conditioned
by Pavlov's Cat....
Categories:
pavlov, cat, dog, funny love,
Form:
Prose
Don't call me immigrant
Call me cherry tree
With pink and white cherry blossoms
Don't call me immigrant
Call me sunny butterfly
With swallowtail
Don't call me immigrant
Call me yellowtail snapper
In the cold waters of Florida
Don't call me immigrant
For Pradesh the taxi driver may not come
Pavlov, so well dress, may not open the door
The coffee may not bring vodka nor rum
And your children may not see Tina anymore
Don't call me immigrant
I am just a cloud laden with your rain.
Categories:
pavlov, on work and working,
Form:
Free verse
When Pavlov was ringing a bell,
Some saliva his dogs would expel.
And just like that drool
I’m a Words with Friends fool,
For its music makes me want to spell.
Categories:
pavlov, dog, words,
Form:
Limerick
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 25
Followers are made from day one in the womb
Not gods but by men in the full-length skirt
Pavlov mice all salivate stunned stark in tomb
Do not men in frocks drive terror promise doom
Those who heed not words they stuff into gods first
Followers are made from day one in the womb
Can honourable men raise gods from the tomb
Invite them back to earth slake believers’ thirst
Pavlov mice all salivate stunned stark in tomb
Who split their gods’ words plunge followers in gloom
Make dissenters fight staunch believers first
Followers are made from day one in the womb
Sexless men tear each other under own dome
Then order robot men to give up the ghost
Pavlov mice all salivate stunned stark in tomb
Who forbids men from praying under one dome
Don’t middle-men stoked by sybarite Sophist
Followers are made from day one in the womb
Pavlov mice all salivate stunned stark in tomb
- End of Part One –
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
pavlov, anti bullying, freedom, religion,
Form:
Villanelle
COPLA 78 INVOCATION: This Bad Guy World
Recruit killers from the cradle
“Touches pas à mon Dieu! S’il te plaît!”
Crazed Pavlov mice
Curious holy books lie idle
Bits and pieces froth in mouths lay:
Rest lice in rice
Even if faiths feed best within ethnies
Holy writs and laws best divide them:
Make each Other
Some faiths lay claim to affinities
Yet each other slaughter and condemn:
Curse their mother
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
pavlov, conflict, creation, god,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
_Terponei_
Terponei is not a graffiti,
Instead a monument of power,
She came mine augmentere,
Treponie is a covet of many men,
A desired sapphire for true.
Come all to help me dream,
Because I sleep all time to plea,
And disapprovals I don't lack,
Because she's vowed to wretch my peace,
Keeping deep in the ocean,
Wherefore often I die of coma.
Look! She comes not like the dogs of Pavlov,
Which repeat mistakes,
They let Pavlov learn them,
Her emotions are ever on a phase plateau,
Love is a plant that sprouts fast,
Terponei, Treponie is the butterfly to catch,
Thus I'll grow to be a kangaroo,
Because I love her stalk,
And I'm the lover without quota.
I drafted this poem as my most coded work. Many facts are hidden herein. When I began writing, I loved concealing secrets in poems. I'll love readers to see this work slowly.
Categories:
pavlov, dedication, love, love,
Form:
Verse
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
Science has always pursued people’s main interest:
Sex, chat, food, and relaxation - the best.
Edison, inventive-ideas man, sat under a tree for days
And a light bulb fell on his head causing a daze:
And seeing *********** in his vision - what a laugh -
He invented the pornograph.
We know the first phone calls were identified by sound of bell
Because the telephone was invented by Alex G Bell.
Thank goodness he wasn’t called Alex G Squelch;
Or that the inventor wasn’t SIr Toby Belch -
Who well understood that a dog’s belly ache
Caused Pavlov to invent the pavlova cake;
And Newton’s law of gravy: two objects meat - why
Do they attract each other’s essence within circle of pie?
.
To relax after dinner, Whitney invented cotton gin soon after his fine
Original and best brew - his potato wine;
And Franklin invented the art of leisurely kite flying -
But, oh oh, Ben! Shocking bad idea in lightning.
Categories:
pavlov, history
Form:
Couplet
Splintering away from all that matters
Burdens of trust shred my brain to tatters
Gratitude infects while I glimpse your face
Hurdles abound to perk my apathy
Until I'm stung by that buzzing wrath bee
Bold cup full of bliss I plan to displace
My feet get caught in those rungs as I climb
Nucleotides stripped of that chaste enzyme
Past disappointments can't help me prepare
Lost at the apex with toys I so vex
My conquistador binds savage Aztecs
I long to toss you ten feet in the air
Pinning the blame proves a pungent hassle
Who will fortify my Pavlov castle?
You share unique ways of making me drool
Pernicious force bundles cellular strife
Killing diseases by twisting the knife
I scarf your smirk like a ravenous fool
Herded again toward these lonely stations
Scraping away those stagnant vibrations
Tooting my horn at your departing train
Spread on the ground like a picnic blanket
Psyche bends over so I can spank it
My legs severed from sympathetic pain
Crawling on stumps to chase down python goals
I've tripped through blockades as well as potholes
All these structures keep on breaking away
Marching bands gather as I amble by
Compelled to follow, yet they don't know why
Amoeba hungers are forcing their sway
Like Moses on pavement, I drive my quest
Bilking those theories I'd rather divest
For sanity pines feebly without you
I journey these miles in tattered textiles
While my head compiles a scheme that beguiles
Until breaking through my doom shall accrue
Categories:
pavlov, allegory, fantasy, imaginationme,
Form:
Lyric
All of a sudden (upon
immediately arising refreshed,
whar these lovely
bones did not ache
getting shut eye lasting
amply time for
fatigue to brake,
long enough for tear ducts
to generate sandy granule
size piece smaller
than a Jimmie
sprinkled atop piece of cake
an inexplicable fanciful
notion gripped me
to circumnavigate the globe
(then during or after
write a poem or journaled)
possibly like Sir Francis Drake
who lived (circa?1540 –
28 January 1596)
alight to adventure found
yours truly though
no longer tired
i.e. once adequately
rested and awake,
(despite sleeping respite
did reckon asthma
second daily nap
no...no...no...,this not "FAKE)"
ah ran to the community room,
cuz sigh did hanker for coffee,
sans one of the (perky,
finely grounded, Earthy)
residents, who faintly resembled
a (Lake Woebegone)
Minnesotan from Land o Lake
did brew, filter, and invoke love
said coffee she did make,
tubby extra sure boundless energy
would keep me alert for:
long day's journey into night
and while walking briskly
(this took about a bajillion
orbitz round the sun,
cuz ah...unfairly small feet
for this opaque
grown man hoop ping to partake
of sipping a hot cup of Joe,
(despite the outside temperature
feeling like a bajillion degrees -
courtesy of global warming)
mouth (analogous to
the dog of Pavlov)
started to salivate
for desperate caffeinated
thirst to slake
after a couple swallows...
ah (no idea why butta)
Zarathustra channeled
thru me didst spake.
Categories:
pavlov, 12th grade, 9th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Mister Thought Police,
my twin electrodes agree
with your Mind Kontrol policy
It’s a laboratory disgrace,
that the free speech troublemakers
get to protest this way
Such a predestined malfunction fiber optic outrage
Ms. Chief of the Microchip Morality Division,
your prompt commands
are embedded deep
inside of my loyal neural circuitry
Every Hive authorized memory wipe decision
tightens the beta bands ~ Obedient oscillation wavelengths
don’t come robo cheap
Propaganda protocols are docile necessary
Mr. Automaton Dispatch Operator,
my artificial pump mechanism
has an ultra-jolt affinity
for your Pavlov call-response methods
Mind Kontrol orders are retinal scan template embraced
Unplug the free-think I.T. instigators,
who want chaos burst aneurysm
Queen emission insanity
will force a droning, self-destruct buzz
It’s a lobotomy shame,
that the non-programmed Grey Matter radicals
get to freely act this way
Miss Thought Police,
discourage any disloyal circuitry
This is my Mind Kontrol plea:
Thoroughly erase any freewill trace of cerebral cortex tampering
Categories:
pavlov, dark, future, psychological, science,
Form:
Free verse
Too many frustrations and way too stressed out.
Need to get out and let go.
House is held down.
Things are taken care of.
My girls are ready to roll.
Got a new outfit, I look good, I smell good and soon I'll be feeling good.
Standing in line, anticipation of what's inside fluttering in my stomach.
Just want to have a good time.
Just want to dance.
Just want to leave the strife of home at home and forget my problems...
If only for a few hours.
Standing at the bar, lining up my shots wanting the buzz to set in quick.
Music is pumping.
I have to get on the floor and dance.
Yelling whispers to my girls.
Laughing till it hurts, makes me ignore deeper pains hiding out.
Having the best time yet.
Ignoring what's going on around us, just a girl's night out.
Checking my hair and makeup in the mirrors that line the walls.
For what, not sure.
Not really feeling confident, its just a well trained routine infused into my being.
Pavlov would be proud.
Feeling the buzz on so many levels, the music, the lights, the shots.
Feeling the heat of the dance floor radiating from others out for the night.
Me and my girls enjoying the night.
Not looking for anything or anyone.
It's a night out...an escape for me from having to look at the same four walls.
The dance floor is beginning to thin out, good time winding down.
Glancing around to see whose left.
And then I spot him at the edge of the floor...just watching.
Not sure if it's me he's watching, but I sure don't mind watching him.
And then it happens.
An invite outside for a smoke for my girl from his boy.
Not sure if I should flirt, play it cool, but the look of him looking at me, pulls at me.
I draws me in and grabs me.
Oh what a night...one I feel I won't forget.
Categories:
pavlov, friendship, life, mystery, dance,
Form:
Blank verse
Bright lights, flames in motion.
Arms weighted with emotion,
as each carries
their burdensome torch.
Lit alleyways, littered by mayhem,
breached by commonsense.
Is it too late
to chase scintillating dreams,
to rid the streets
of the beast?
The mantra
had captivated mouths and memes,
seemed the broad path was in,
was easy. No one understood,
the following was satisfying,
it had treats, whistles and bells.
Pavlov would ring,
ice cream was melting;
drips and dollars,
indecisiveness.
The public fell for it.
Hypnotic, sliding
into each scenario
like colorforms placed;
placemats, paid off.
The scent of incense
scorching the silver lining,
anger the prayers of the masses
who had never knelt
to the unknown God,
only to reason and revery.
Oh yes, they dipped
into psychedelics,
thrilled by curt
and coarse language,
and irreverent motion
of the tall man.
Like any gang,
with any spark of disloyalty,
you’re out,
you’re beat -
tread marks identify you
as the enemy.
No one notices
because each member’s
given rose-colored glasses.
The storm of hail,
thunder, lightening,
frightening
but ineffective to disturb
the disturbed.
Torches light the streets,
attempt peace,
only propaganda distressed.
Occasionally,
one pulls away from Frankenstein’s monster
when the light
lands on the truth.
Proof. Glass house shatters. Gutter
full of bottles; hands through grates.
Dividing line. Blue sky and bluebirds
above the fray; fearless patriots.
Categories:
pavlov, imagery, truth,
Form:
Free verse
The Cinematic Film Treatment as a stand alone element
in the aesthetic revolution we are now not witnessing
Non Sequitur - Script Excerpt
"Nyuk Nyuk" and "Whoop Whoop", two archetypal vagabond minstrels sing an ancient free-meter saga describing the political turmoil of the Pavlov basin Dogbone Kingdom and the pilgrimage of Bobby Molecule from oral tribalism to industrial culture in an immersive ambiance where anyone and anything can be "evidence".
N & W sing in falsetto to the rhythmic accompaniment of wooden matches being struck alight.
“He progressed clumsily unable to presume a pause
knowing that what is perceived always follows its cause”
(repeat ad nauseum)
From "Theater of Utter Charm"
Available on Amazon
Categories:
pavlov, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse