Best Quicky Poems
Torturous separation. Intellectual blindness.
How your brilliance and intellectual dominance fascinate me.
Looking into your baby eyes wide and blue, I still see your knowing awareness, high voltage connections.
You laughed as a baby, with me, or at me?
How quicky did you discover our world's stupidity? When did your broken heart shear your funny bone, too?
Have you not yet accepted terms of this life, clicked the check box and exposed your vulnerability? Will you acceed to your lack of control? Will you reach out to the only concrete anchor we have? Will you embrace the lonely hopeless souls looking for the same relief you are desperate to know?
We all walk the same funeral march into our graves. Won't you pick up a piece of love, entertain some forgiveness, and carry some peace on the way to your certain destiny?
Amazingly, Alice assaulted an antelope
Because Bobby’s beavers became bold,
Considering cantilevered canines
Deliberately devastating donor’s doled.
Evelyn entirely excited electric eels
Failing forlornly from forward fencing,
Gaining ground gathering genuine gold
Her happiness heralded high financing.
I indicated initially incapable innocents
Justifying joyous juxtaposition jousting
Keeping kind Kenneth’s kindreds knit
Losing language like legally lost lusting.
Maybe minding manners means more
Neither newness nor novel necessary,
Occasionally opening old occlusions
Promises perfectly positioned pituitary.
Quite questionable quicky quirks
Rage rampantly removing regulations,
Summarily startling some supervisors
Touching their tempermental trepidations.
Until unusual undertakings understood
Veritable vigilantes visited volunteers,
Wildly waiting where we wandered
X-citedly X-iting X-istential X-ospheres
Yonder youthful yaks yielded...yikes!
Zebras zigzagged zestfully ziggurat-likes.
On the edge of metropolitan midnight
he lays in a breathless silence
rasping the evanescing yesterdays to his windows
both open and locked,
while the unknowing below in stale smoke barrooms,
wait to sear his wounds and retell his life
in putrefied requiem.
Abashed metropolis
echoing of muted voices once adorning the streets
in practiced synthetic ritual,
the vile awash and seeping through asphalt cracks,
the scent of rot, old and new, smattered on old brick edifices
silences the ascending smoke plumes
belched from and within dirtied concrete towers,
the final endeavor from within a dying mans spirit
reaching out to no one
City’s voice wails from the antechamber in darkness
anxieties fracturing the panes amongst the downtown fire
of urban panic
lucidity congealing away within him, kept only in the moment
by metronome dripped medicine
exposing him to his damp streets, dirtied culverts, sewer ditches
chemically induced and maintained.
Fighting for his identity within this sterilized chaos,
whispering for the few of open mind somewhere below the window sill,
quicky stepping onward, over his newsprint life,
calling out one last time
There he lays in cold white sterility,
calling silently to his windows, both opened and locked,
watching his stories catch and fade in the dull humid streetlight
wisped away on steam grate stale winds,
the dying soul, eyes closed, his aged lined face
muddied, scraped, and walked over,
through the grime of progression left on sullied pavement.
Thirty thrifty thieves furtively foraged through their filthy things finding fifty thin forks
though the thieves find of fine thin frilly forks thriftily foraged failed to thrill
Thlipping Dithicult said the first
whos swolen tongue he nursed
The second thought it a trifle tricky
this can't be read as a quicky
Contest : Big Kid Tongue Twister Challenge
My lines ought to make people quip
easy to relate to and comprehensively equipped
achieving so many a quatrain
is a technical feet to attain.
Maintaining this, I feel queasy
nurturing the consistency is really uneasy
you can be an extraordinary Quasar
if its unlikely to be a normal star
No exact fulfillment doesn’t deserve the quibble
your light is also very much valuable
not getting it right may begin a quietude
avoiding this is a test of my aptitude.
It’ll be short, fitting a page in a size quite quarto
about its expressions, nothing really macho
Wow! All 4-lined verses seem quicky
And the target has been met with great success so low keyed.
SUMMER WITCH HAIKU
Husband bite your tongue.
Mother'n law comes visiting
threatens not to leave.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
BUCKS COUNTY PICNIC AT DELAWARE CANAL HAIKU
Picnickers are there
bridge from nowhere to nowhere
haven't got a care
nap beneath the trees
Nockamixon Palisades
dreaming birds and bees
light flashes below
as the water streams along
in its summer song
orange cotton dress
hiding from the boys who stare
all they do is guess.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QUICKY LUBE HAIKU
Faster than the eye
just a lick as going by
Quicky Booby Lube.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
© RON WILSON aka vee bdosa the Doylestown poet
Ticky Bicky Boo
Licky Mickey Moo
I'm in love with you
Little Tsuki Tsu.
Chicky Dicky Doo
Ricky Nicky Nu
Close your lips with glue
Kiss a kangaroo.
Tricky Picky Poo
Quicky Hicky Hoo
I'll practice Wu Shu
By a shady yew.
Wicky Kicky Ku
Yucky Sticky Stew
Visiting the zoo
Painting chickens blue.
Taking my first summer stroll in the meadow,
I marveled at the new growth and flowers
The sun was shining full blast, not a single shadow
My mind rummaged through its ivory towers.
Wild carrot and cosmos were in full bloom
Along with larkspur and bright columbine,
Tempting me to pick for my living room
But I demurred, not to disturb the natural
Habitat for the critters, pollinators for the bees
Seeing in them something awesomely spiritual,
I headed for the woodland line of trees.
Surprisingly, someone has set up a salt lick
I wonder, this being a wildlife sanctuary
Surely no hunting, it hit me like a brick,
I thought it so entirely unnecessary.
Surely not here...a deer hunter's nasty trick.
An afternoon so filled with joy and promise
Suddenly was overshadowed with awful thoughts,
I quicky turned and headed toward the house,
My stomach churning, gut tied up in knots.
I shall complain of this infraction to authorities,
Next thing I know, they'll be chopping down trees.
Written June 3, 2022
[Last year partial fencing was a scare;
Now hunting? They wouldn't dare!]
< Only one
Mastoid begun
Behind left ear
Boy did it appear
Mom freaked
Dr. she seeked
Thought it was mumps
But was a larger bump
Fead me pickle
Didn't and wasn't fickle
That's all I know
From 50 years ago
So Check newborn ears
For ungodly lumps that suddenly appears
Entry For
Catie Lindsey's
Baby Boo's Shoes Quicky Contest
G.L. All
Quasar pulse time moves
at the pause ratio of
radioactive query change
A long anticipated moment of attraction
did quicky supernova boom,
then it slowly did mushroom
into repellant cloudy, doubtful affection
Heartbeat fears
perceptually travel
on quantum tick-tock gears
of uncertainty
Unknown quality of years,
diastolic guessing
Vibratory standstill
only lament expand glacial regrets
Inert decisions
based on vein transverse concepts —
Kinetic permutations of a void, after-vow life
Nil short hand trust keep spinning backwards
Neutron clock halts bio-rhythm progress;
nuclear bond broken, uncoupling kismet
Goodbye waves of binary permanence fusion
create so many
proton teary Eves and electron frown Adams
Paradoxically, unsettled matter
coalesces at entropy speed
High density flow of severed devotion
be an anti-betta Fate phenomenon:
A dual retrograde stillness of eMotion
Bosom thoughts, so whisper sublime,
do travel faster-than-flight
How null was the shooting star time?
Premature departure coursed flatline
through a serrated wormhole
in the vacuum cardio
Shared space contract
slower than
a frozen common asset
Oscillating fidelity
bandwidth kilohurtz breathe
aorta flux impurity
In the stillness of passion entropy;
that vast, intimate static ocean of much less
Suspended dreams drifts silently —
Non-animated feelings, so full of emptiness
Oh, how the ventricular pain throbs,
feel how slow the time bleed
When the systolic ticking sobs stop,
where will that stillness lead?
I was an odd little girl. At a very early age writing, and seeking out nature. I
loved to wander libraries and art galleries, while other little girls played with
dolls together. A loner, lost within my thoughts. I grew up to be a bit eccentric
and offbeat. My style of dressing is whimsical and unique to me. I love
seeking out vintage. The key is to not wear too much at one time! My pose
and mannerisms are quiet and gentle, people have commented on how calm
I seem. I found my Zen a long time ago. I do yoga and meditate each day.
Something about me is my need to know what is going on in the world.
I watch the local news, the Canadian news (yes, I am from Canada), varied US
news, and the World news each morning. Only then can my day begin! It is an
oddity I think as so many do not listen or read about the news. I like to read
books but not on a Kindle or on the computer I want, must actually hold a
book, I love the feel of the pages in my hands. I collect old books, well old and
fragile anything. A beautiful vase or plate with a chip perhaps found in second
hand shops. I do not need an expensive antique to satisfy my need for "old".
Well, that's the oddity of me, a whimsical, unique and a bit offbeat girl.
the forest quiet
the sound of soft snow falling-
I stop listening
_____________________
February 7, 2018
Poetry/Haibun/'This Quirky Girl'
Copyright Protected, ID 9985-61-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Your Favorite Poem Written In February
Sponsor, Laura Loo
Third Place
it felt like i was stuck in a place that i coul never come out of.
a place ive been before, not a good place either.
the feeling of being used.
being alone again.
she tells me that it wasnt my fault, that they shoulve known better, but i beg to differ.
i am old enough to know right from wrong.
i knew that running away was wrong,
not saying no was wrong too.
i am stuck in the past where they pass me around.
a little quicky is all they want and then they move me to the next one in line
i feel my skin crawling as i can feel the pressure of there bodies against mine
why did i freeze?
why did i not say no?
i walk out of the building,
smelling of men that i didnt even know...
why didnt i say no?
I want to go for a wee
But there's no one to take me
My potty is too far you see
So I think I’ll pee in my nappy
Oh! now I need a poo
From eating all that mushy goo
Goes in one way and seems to pass through
And guess what? It’ll have to be changed by you
When I do this I start to cry
You have the nerve to ask me why?
I don’t cry but the smell waters my eye
Wait till you open it, you will die
*Baby Boo's Shoes - Quicky contest Catie Lindsey Contest*
A Quicky
I am on seven heaven;
I have been driven
To write.
I stay up all night,
Sometimes till daylight
Just for a quicky rhyme,
Writing one line at a time
While I’m still in my prime.
Depends on my mood,
When I have an attitude.
My writes can look like I brood,
Or ready to scream;
Or in a daydream.
I’m Aphrodite
In a sexy nightie
out of fashion
full of passion.
Or I’m a bird,
A tiny Hummingbird,
Mimicking Mockingbird.
Or a Thunderbird
Convertible that never stalls
with wide whitewalls.
Please don’t misunderstand,
A lot I planned.
I stay up all night,
Sometimes till daylight
Just for a quicky rhyme.
4/2/2020
Just musing
Had to add a little humor to your life and a little less bad reality.
Beautiful sunrise in the east
And a powerful sunset in the west
In between nestled a cottage in the forest, and
Free things nature has to offer.
Yes, bird songs!
Quicky and quirky
Bird’s tweeting
Singing at sight.
What a delight!
Bird’s language
Speak sometimes
Of truth amidst
Of the many wonders
Of life's indiscretions.
Oh, how I love
These chirpings
Accompanying me in my nap
In a netted swinging cradle .