Best Shifts Poems
wind shifts
a leaf pauses
midair
Twelve Hour Shifts for Nurses
By Elton Camp
To be asked to work twelve hours in a row
Seems to be an extremely hard way to go
Imagine doing any task for that long
How easy it’d be to do something wrong
If selling clothes I work long and late
A few errors we might then tolerate
After all, a striped tie with a plaid suit
Some folks might consider sorta cute
When, for twelve hours, a nurse strives
It could be a threat to the patients’ lives
Can she maintain the right frame of mind
And not come to patient needs to be blind
And on the nurse it is just far too hard
Shifts that long, I think, should be barred
susurration shifts
jet cumuli passerines~
starlings flight sculpture
Bouncing across the checker board
I'll captain this ship
Advance or retreat
Something in between
Power holds all the money
Its funny to be upset or
Disgruntled
Synesthesia rampart
As molten sense changes form
Its altered or reborn
A soul in the melting pot
Of Creation
So when its your turn
Ill observe
The movement and assumption
Which battery packed brigade
Made it across the line
Jujitsu in the heart of the city
Street stomping Wall Street papers
Her eyes were as beautiful as sighs.
Rushed out of the cage when the heart breathed
Her lips were softer than a toddler's soul.
Her gait—Ah! My wild imaginations.
I saw her exactly when the maker saw her.
Maker busy watching, and I skipped a beat.
The world follows her everywhere.
They forgot the Sunrises, rain, and clouds.
The only blessing they know is sight.
I remember when I saw her, my soul gave an amorous stare.
That day was more than a day; even the shades were happy.
But when I witnessed her highness,
The colours started to fade away.
And she was the only one who owned the colours of the entire planet.
I think Maker was imaging Da Vinci in the gallery,
While making her
She's maker's finely flowing love
That turned ruthlessness and rudeness into gratitude.
I was stuck in another realm.
The realm where she blushed
Waving sacredly sweet tones to the towns
The towns of the kingdom of hearts
Where rationality is a sin,
Well, I will sell my existence to her moments beside me.
On a worn bench, In a Gothic house
And my demons will be confused, seeing
Mi Amor beside the victim
They came to haunt
I think it's love when you start talking to the mirrors.
To the trees playing air, to towns and their fairs,
That—you could never surpass the darling's grandeur.
One day the demons visit me smiling
with black roses in black suits
They said, "She is no more."
scared the demons,
the pain I roared
Now when I visit the graveyard in graveyard-shifts
I kneel down and shout that
You could have asked once—Oh, maker
I was a lover!!
Ambiance flourish,
Strews cool odour of spring;
Feelings swing in inebriation;
Dreams too flow,
In the drift of bliss;
All seem awesome,
Feel like life in paradise;
Narcissism blinds our eyes,
See nothing except green;
Veils our mind,
Lurks our thoughts;
Forget there is always autumn,
In the next stage of life;
Veins go weak and dry,
Wrinkles form in face,
Body weakens, heart shrinks;
Essence of love shifts,
From tender age to old age;
Lived own life,
Now it's turn of tender youngs,
Give space so they can flourish;
Watch them rise,
And live for them rest of life;
© Sadashivan Nair
Look at how the power the Power Shifts
It's all smoke and mirrors
And every hour here
I learn to value the precious seconds
Well the centerpiece of my topic is enterprize
Please don't enter the gates of simple minds
And the middle might---___Fall out and stiil the light
Well I guess I don't know nothing about Power shifts then//////////
Well we'll see in the Spring when the flowers are blooming\\\\\\\\\\
******UNDERCONSTRUCTION*********
How about if time thinks out of the box
Let it be cunning, as sly as a fox
Instead of forward, shift into reverse
Life might be better, if you're not risk-averse
Now just think, in November
if instead of December
The next month was October
and after that, September --
That would be a year to remember
And of course, no need to be older than 50
once you hit five-oh, just back up and go
49, 48, 47, 46 ~ Time would be fun
if it would think of such tricks
Yet calendars have been printed
coins have been minted
There's money in keeping things
the way that they are
So, I guess I'll move to an island
way far away in the sea
Where time won't bother
to sneak up on me
Such love moves, love shifts
We're allowed to change of heart
Like waves goes a drifts.
Trinkets, salt packet from road trip sixteen years ago
Collected, cafes remembered, ripped open with age
Spilt among treasure, a twig, tickets, torn butterfly
Bits familiar, shrine in a tin, tired feather, belated
Harmoniously decompose, shipwreck's chains
Filter their links, flakes floated, flipped coins
Emboss truth funnelled through decades
Grains falling, fabled chamber drained
Recollections creak rocking chair era
Carpet of moths, floorboards erode
Sanctum split, heirlooms fracture
Hailed scriptures huddle in fog
Divided cortex gorge cool gap
Glide of pendulum grandfather
Silent rhythm discards old habits
Distance in dust, leaf littered history
Compiles mottos rotting ignominous
With inter century bold blended injection
Contemporary tips in, new version junction
Mingling dissolves old into fresh vessel joined
Relentless generations mark intended kamikaze
Ebony ivory rivals reflect empathy kindered
Measure of Yin Yang our future ligature
7th February 2022
Written For Contest
Pick - A -Title
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
At times I think,” I wish I would of felt this when I were younger, I would have known! ” Then I remember the “rites of passage”
arriving in autumn on the the wing of a ring-neck dove.
Weaving light between knowing and unknowing.
Doldrum days, nothing i say make them go on their way. Away with their festering pain, smiting down the mentally sane. Bright burning light in the day bringing the sight to the brave is so close, for life has its many splendors and wonders, and for that we must endure all the thunderclouds and sunder, as we ponder of life ever after, its shaky and incomprehensible cries and laughter. many speak and rebuttal all the acclimations of the extreme and the subtle.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
All this fighting must be stopped, plant your roots and grow or suffocate and rot, for the low never prosper in their filth and clots, and they will never glow, glow with enlightenment and the knowing of the know. You may never spark your light when your eyes carry only freight and not a shred of adventure, so look around at the pyres of your passions which radiate your loves and indentures, they will guide you through this path to your above.
Autumn brings cool days even falling green,
mingled with red, yellow and orange leaves;
until all the branches are bare though still serene,
but the beauty of the dancing leave is sublime-
Halcyon intricate jaunty kaleidoscopic leaves,
swirling, twirling, whirling, leaping, flying;
all that beauty so divine in time interweaves,
'til decay ... and the winter trees remain-
Abrupt breezes chilly days even frostbitten gloves,
oh, farewell to my beloved garden;
goodbye roses, tangled vines, my herbs and foxgloves,
rest beneath a blanket of snow my loves-
Mother's name only peeks quiescent,
all else is hidden beneath the pure white;
kneeling ... I leave a bright bouquet iridescent,
oh, dearest rest beneath your snowy quilt 'til spring-
My way is not that far
my path is not that black tar
my bicycle is deflated
but your heart is inflated
i go in peace and war the way i came
all i see in my eye is a blank game
your yellow pale face
turning shifts like a phase
the crescent waits for me
as the horizon sinks deep in the tree
roses are now dried
our wedding ring is now fried
let me go my way
till i will forget this day
Earth’s here quaking,
while I’ve been thinking
of shifts.
Like the shift in love,
the shift in economy:
the dollar-fat trolls
who play tricks.
The many wounded and
the sick.
I see a haze of gray
smoke, it seems
I’ve been hiding in
my dreams,
waiting for the moment
to pretend my
words will mean a damn.
It’s melting away,
they’re going
extinct,
forever isn’t eternity.
We need the land,
the oil, the soil, the spoil,
the life, the ecosystem
means nothing in the
short run...
Grab your gun,
your knife,
you pride,
your flag,
wave them to one another: you’re American.
And when the ocean comes
ashore forevermore,
let the beauty somehow survive
the fittest.