Best Protrusion Poems
Snow falling—
Falling.
Feathers escaping from the pillow-heaven
Confusing the air
With the steadiness of a stampede
Advancing, clinging, smothering.
Snow falling—
Settling.
White fleecy lambs atop every protrusion
Sleek ermine boas
Draped upon the naked arms of nature
Bare of their green velvet capes.
Snow falling—
Drifting.
The spatula of wind
Smoothing mounds of marshmallow frosting
Billowy swirls
Of whipped immaculate splendor.
Snow falling—
Burying.
Obscuring the drab tired earth
Her deep wounds of time
Dissolving shadows of other seasons
That Spring may arise again.
LESSON FROM CEDAR FALLS
A stream of water high above came to a rocky cliff,
Cascaded downward from the ledge, not once debating if
The flow should steer to right or left from a protrusion there,
But letting forces steer its way without a single care.
The fingers met on ledge below for one last final fall;
Into a quiet pool below they made their final call.
Their quick and separated fall was so like life, I found,
As from our lofty start we course our journey to the ground.
If we could let the Master steer and not debate the path,
The obstacles we fear the most we would so easily pass.
And just before that final drop into the pool of death
We’d see Him reach His gentle hand to catch our passing breath.
We’d make it safely to that pool of eternal rest and peace
If we would put our hand in His and all of self release.
This poem came from viewing this natural spectacle in Hocking Hills State Park, Ohio.
Life and death consequences
by two choices have recompenses
omitting natural or spiritual senses
renew the former omit death dispenses
Death’s protrusion
has an all inclusion
recompensing illusion
an Armageddon conclusion
Life has an exclusion
written for purpose of infusion
of private capital preclusion
`t is of Love’s transfusion...
consequences,
recompenses
of serpent senses
then death dispenses
sharks teeth conclusions
of infusions
`t is illusions
of protrusions
playful Dolphin exclusion
insights infusion
removes teeth of confusion
reality of illusions protrusion...
consequences,
recompenses...
senses,
dispenses...
Selah
Having decided on eggs and toast for breakfast, I sat, chewing vigorously, mindlessly trying to come up with a decent topic for some poetry. Nothing came to me, so, using the excuse that a poem can be written about anything at all, I decided on Eggs and Such. I fear the breakfast was better than my poetry. daver
12 big eggs
11 white one brown
a dirty dozen
3 large eggs
two whole one cracked
claw-like protrusion
butch egg
interrogated
cracked spilled his guts
hen house clamor
shotgun blast
wiley’s last heist
two over-easy
with bacon toast
mamma for dinner
easter chicken
delivers jelly beans
rabbit raisins
Sometimes life can get a little rough
“Grin And Bear It”
Or should that be “Grin and BARE It”
Sounds like good advice
Grinning and baring it can be a whole lot more fun
But make sure your friends have all gone home
And the kiddies are tucked away in their beds fast asleep
Before you and your mate start prancing around in the nude
Doing and saying all those naughty things
Like, “nice melons you have there my dear”
This starts the whole proceedings
She responds with, “nice frontal protrusion!”
Immediately, the fun begins and the house starts rockin'
All because you, “Grinned And Bared it!”
© Jack Ellison 2014
In younger days we would watch our figure
Now hear behind the back people snicker
Now through many years
Christmas treats and cheers
Behinds not in line, those bellies bigger!
I’ll make Chocolate pie resolution
Along with Pecan pie restitution
When our congress acquits
Stupid party line splits
That’s when this old sort admits, protrusion!
Once old fat cell was triggered
Being in behinds he snickered
In belly overlap
In lassie and old chap
Got them just the way he figured!
For and in honor of Carolyn Devonshire
And Contest
Cruel and Unusual Punishment 8th Amendment
Of particular news was a protrusion
Upsetting people with a serious infusion
About proportion of a pharmaceutical
Enough to raise and curl your cuticle
Cruel and unusual punishment create an exclusion.
This should be blocked and not allowed
to exist in our society. According to
Code of Hammurabi cruel as well as
unusual and capital punishment never
had any effect on people killing each
other. Capital punishment should be
removed from our social etiquette.
What do you think.
Jim Horn
Midnight I awake to look for a snack,
Like a mindless hungry shark,
All these yummy colored stash in my refrigerator
Lethal calories, to count, i may need a calculator
I was hungry the day I was born
I cried when from my mother’s womb I was torn
Inside there, I was an embryo well fed
I cried for food even as my mother bled
Could not get enough of my mother’s breast
Again I cried to leave them as my teeth became a set
Was much consoled I could now munch
My dinner, my breakfast and my lunch
Meanwhile I can always have snacks in small packs,
In between meals when hunger attacks.
Never mind my belly’s protrusion.
Am an animal and am eating for evolution
That am now overweight and my heart rate is slow,
Hunger is more painful, the doctor doesn’t know.
It’s just as well, should I die of obesity
Worse things will kill you, if you live in the city
Eating is my hobby, food is among my passions.
Money is already tight, I don’t need food rations
I will be physically fit, as long as there is food to eat
It’s a good way to go, if I should die of it.
(This poem was for a poetry contest about food.)
saboteur
lying in wait
in the camouflage
of my unsure
intentions
acrid ants of doubt
run amok
in black swarms of
errant motion
fixed wings impaled
by pins of lies
goodbyes
and busted dreams
oh when did I fall
and forget to get up
how far did I go
before I forgot
is she in the pale
reaching into the void
only to find me
adrift
with shame by my side
and a bottle of confusion
along for the ride
the saboteur smiles
in deft illusion
yesterday and tomorrow
struggling in fusion
lovus interuptus
the most horrible of intrusions
what’s done has morphed
into painful protrusion
and what of my vision of
pure virgin white
stained by deception
deconstructed in one night
left old and stumbling
on the precipice of fright
frantically searching
to make it right
Well some they say though straight or gay
Get fun from innuendo
While others wait ‘til dark
To get their kicks outside your window
Some do the deed without a sound
Some labour in the dark
While others roars would wake the dead
Some sing out like a lark
Variety’s the spice of life
And while there’s a great selection
We’ve all been screwed from time to time
At every new election
There’s watersports and bondage
There’s even golden showers
Beware though not to mix the two
Or you’ll stay wrapped up for hours
Some wear a mask with eye-holes
Or some dangerous protrusion
Some sport a tail or riding crop
While lost in their delusion
Some women favour veggies
To chippies sparks or plumbers
They relish every celery stick
Or juicy green cucumbers
There’s tales that tell of fishermen
Quite partial to a skate
Though fond of fish I always was
I prefer mine on a plate
Some wrap up like an onion
For fear their skin is showing
While some rush in all fingers and thumbs
With boobs and buttocks glowing
There are those without a conscience
Who swear they’re not the owner
Oh deary me it had to be
Someone elses *****
Though some would up and go all night
Some finish in a minute
While others just the thought alone
Would push them past their limit
While girls dress up as men
And Lads like Cinderella
It takes a little work sometime
To tell female from fella
Uniforms are common place
Considered rather arty
A sturdy pair of coppers cuffs
Are the rave at swingers parties
There’s beads and balls and bangles
They may become a habit
And a whirling whirring weapon
They call the Rampant Rabbit
When picking out a present
For your partners Xmas box
Have Duracell a plenty
In her little Xmas socks
So while sex it has its ups and downs
Even Daniel would agree
It’s a sure fire cure for unwanted frowns
And it beats a cup of Tea
Endless Tree
It seemed to be an oak with tan and dark bark
The climb aloft began by moonlight with certain ease
So many branches, almost like steps, falling in the dark
Footfalls from me to up above
A red round sun met up with me at day break
I refused to stop my journey skyward
For hours I ascended to the heavens
By daylight it was obvious to see, this was not an oak
Soft leather boots pulled me up and through
Thick leaves and appendages like arms, bending at the end
Held on to me as I held on to them
And we became each other’s friend
Perhaps half way up by now, I guessed
I had to rest as legs and strength gave out
No doubt the tree might feel the same
If only it knew how
It grew in front of me as I looked down
Bad weather changes came
After three days climbing upon more climbing
Foreign tree, rooted in the ground, elevated by wind and rain
I continued skyward having nothing better to do
About a half mile further up and on
I perceived a protrusion or perhaps a hole
A lack of sleep had drained me to the core
I took my time and it took me but slower
Beef jerky and a flask of juice were all I had
My soul was also nourished in the loft
As green yellow birds built their homes
Insects ran about up there waiting to be eaten
And the wholeness of the tree kept company
Kept us all alert up there
No doubt by now, the tree was in its element
I finally made my way to the giant hole or room
Looking above, the timber went on for miles in the sky
The tree had held a reservation for me to sleep
So I did as it requested as its guest
Crawled right in and settled down
To take a little slumber in the lumber
Before proceeding
I WILL pound for you
with my arms
filled to the brim
with the strength of Africa.
With my breath,
pure like the crystal sky,
in its unperturbed hour,
I will pound.
I will pound for you.
I will trek the pot-filled path of Akoko
down to Ikare
in search of a pestle.
I will traverse the thickest forest
like OgbojuOde
down to Ekiti
in a quest for the procurement of a mortar.
I will pound for you.
Three seasons, I'll work and watch,
with sweat and sweet mind,
the tubers breed the yams.
Three times, I'll keep you at the edge of the seat
with rhythm of the pestle and mortar
as they press the yams in heartless manner
and fill your belly to its protrusion like Olori-aya.
Redding Poem 4
“Flying Down Interstate 5”
We departed Redding at 3:45,
In the dead of an October night.
Those tumultuous streets were morgues then,
As we raced to the deserted Interstate 5,
Zooming across the snoozing Sacramento River,
Going at a constant speed of 85,
Passing the snoring cities of Red Bluff, Chico and Yuba City,
Slicing through the darkness of early morning,
With the tule fog scratching over the countryside,
Shrouding the distant lights like blinders on a roan.
One city after another, my speeding treads arriving
In dark sleepy Sacramento in two hours.
With the sun not waking yet, but stirring,
The internal beast passed Stockton as a blur in time,
With other speeding drivers merging onboard,
As insistent captains of their own landlocked ships.
Then looming before us, the San Joaquin canvass;
A devouring flatness five hundred miles long,
Of faraway farmlands sleeping overtime,
The majestic surreal banality of Central California,
Magnetizing us, hypnotizing us to the hastening flow,
Of southern currents and windy traipsings;
This caravan of one, this golden fueled protrusion,
Of the nomadic heartbeat; the inertly-moving soul search;
This final journey to the rapids of my youth,
Where undead ghost boys still climb the rebar rungs,
Atop the old tower on the water’s edge,
Still spit into the blue, slow-paced river below.
Nothing like a rousing game of spin the dolls leg
on a humid summer night to bring a little bit
of joy into an otherwise uneventful evening.
The game piece acquired from one of the
triplet dolls courtesy of the Salvation Army one year at their big Christmas give away.I got the red haired one to match my hair. Mary the blonde .Deb got the brunette.Other than hair color identical.
Right off the bat Deb smeared my mom's lip stick
On her dolls face not very precisely as she was three. Mary decided to wash her babies hair that
turned it into a matted unhair like mess that she then attempted to sculpt with scissors.My doll baby
Was the sole survivor. These dolls built to mimic
a healthy nine to ten month baby were equipped
with some pretty meaty thighs that tapered down
to the most delicate little toes.
The game was played loosely on spin the bottle with some variation. The dolls leg which
had been removed from its hip socket just for this occasion was placed on the apex of thigh protrusion.With a flick of the wrist it would spin
nicely thus till it came to rest little piggies facing
your victim.Picking the leg up securely by its
slender little ankle(just like her mamas)you would
Whack the daylights out of said sibling with that broad little thigh.Then it was their turn to spin.
The youngest would beg to play which really put us in a catch 22.If she didn't get to play she cried
woke dad and we got whipped.If she did play she cried when she was on the receiving end of the leg
Woke dad and we got whipped.We resorted to assigning someone to mouth clap position to stifle
her indignation at the assault by those claiming to love her.We really did.We still do. Spin the dolls
leg is one of our fondest memories and I am happy to have shared it with you today.
Spiritual Narrative
(James Chapter 3)
As for me, having been, the Reptilian’s Pavilion
Has lost it’s appeal, earth’s abundant wonder, of worldly thrill
By source of truth now, Agape is revealing to me how
To build each day, Godly house of sacred Flock, upon the Rock
Master reptilian, created a hell’s pavilion
As the brain of a mind's swell, the mind became in earth, hell’s well
A master of illusion, that some called, Satan’s protrusion
But only mind illusion, this parasitic protrusion
Al is boasting and toasting, some believe, the earth is roasting
Borrowing from debt, saying that humanity should not fret
Dwelling in this naught, that America has forever bought
Drinking in illusion large as the sea, none will be made free
(Psalms 104:26)
Steady now as she goes, Truth from all four winds of heaven blows
Love"s sure rudder of a ship, shall keep many a tongue from slip
The Agape was first, by which, natural tongues bless and not curse
From strife into life, tongues, shall put the earth's curse into reverse
(Isaiah 27:1)
Leviathan, piercing serpent, a dragon in multitudes
Stirring humanity's feuds, as world has seen, Hitler’s Nazi
Very little member, boast this tongue, fascism of great change
Reigns, setting on fire, the very course of earth peaceful nature
As a beast, humanity has feasts, feeding on Hitler’s yeast
Images of evil yeast, come from serpent mind’s natural beast
But restoring a ship, requires a dip, life’s ocean of love
Wisdom from above, restores by Love, at least, the beast, be tame
12-29-09 For Constance’s contest