Best Slough Poems


Shedding Thin Skin

Held unyielding in your narrow mind
is the ignorance which keeps you blind.
Building dams will only hold you back
from accepting that white is not black.
Like a slow moving, barricaded stream,
your thoughts clot like curdled cream.
Thin skin has need to slough rejection,
Your rigid stance in mirrored reflection.

Break open the dam across the estuary
that hinders your vision. It's necessary
to move in sync with malleable fluidity
instead of sputtering words of stupidity.
Shedding skin will allow you to breathe.
Release your potential from its sheathe.
Even a snake slithers out from its skin
to crawl from where it once had been.

Little is the chance you have to accept
new ideas if they are not circumspect
to the fault of having such a closed mind.
Throw off the veil that keeps you blind.
Don't become stagnant and decompose
by turning your back, continuing to oppose
any idea with which you just don't agree.
You'll drown in arrogance, acting so lordly.

Wreath of Time

A slough of love
serenading moonlight
A snowball chance in a dream
Buffalo riders playing rodeo
A lovers touch in spring
petrified on time
Absent friends
on the wreath of time

Premium Member Downcast In the Rain

                                           
        Rain drops fall fast, like flying frond,
      Creating ripples in the pond,
    It's pouring hard, just as forecast,
  I watch the showers spill steadfast,
Like waters gushing from beyond...

        Spurred on by rain, new life has spawned,
      Buzzing and croaking night has dawned,
   The sky remains dark, overcast,
			  Rain drops fall fast...

        With the rain, my tears correspond,
      Thinking of you and our dream bond,
    Your death has still left me aghast,
  Never have I felt so downcast,
Ignoring my slough of despond,
			  Rain drops fall fast...







11/03/17


Chirping Dawn

Flying, jumping from this bough to the bough
Chirping sharp, calling the friends over slough
The foggy smokes are walking away slowly
For the adult winter the rising sun is mossy

The sparrow couple is sipping from bean flowers
Over the plums there are dancing the warblers 
Twittering songs enchant the pink rosy fragrance
With flapping wings the butterflies on buds trance 

Thru the window glass the sunny ray is peeping
One cup of espresso is fixing my eyes to the link
To natural canvas my darling becomes obsessive
With these pleasure my soul in poetic verse trip

Nature is ever alive; nature is divine, true beauty  
Where the chirping birds is the music of divinity 

 
February 06, 2023


A Simple Pleasure Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward

Egal

Egal your hurly-burly city,
Egal your stress bureaucracy;
Saturday I shall visit my garden,
Where I will bury all your plights
Like a slough snake long forgotten.

There await me rosy welcome
From my carnation and dafodil,
The sweet aroma of my lavender;
I shall kiss the beautiful stair of petals
Build by my darling ginger and tulip.

The quietude of my garden:
Dousing rain after a scorching heat,
Shall redeem me from your torture,
The amusement from the squirrels
Shall restore smile onto my face;
Under the robust cherry tree
I shall journey to the mount of thought.

And when the heavenly beam decends
To honour our weekly appointment
Like sky I will spread out my picnic mat,
Delight it with Andrea, Nette, Donna’s poems;
I will turn left and right, allowing it
To caress the gradient of my hips.

When my guest turns westward
Then  I will bless all my darlings;
I will baptise them with heavenly dew
Anoint their feet with brown-black powder
And cast out any demon perching on them.

Hoping you that wolf will roar? Egal !
I shall not think of your sausage,
Your meatpie will not come to mind;
Above my head are young breast apples,
Mangoes and banana are at alert
Ready to arrest any roaring wolf.

Egal your hurly-burly city,
Egal your stress bureaucracy;
Saturday I shall visit my garden.

Premium Member Halloween Ghouls

HALLOWEEN GHOULS 


Run as fast as your legs can move 
Move much faster,this's no time to prove 
You're so brave and not scared of any spooks 
Ghouls and black flying bats soar the sky above 
Witches cackle and prepare merrily evil potions and some brew 
Tonigh they're cooking a very yummy ghoulish stew 
So run as fast as your legs can move 
'Cause they're planning no good 
They're gonna make you drink their awful slough 
And turn you into another HALLOWEEN GHOUL.



Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014



October,31,2014


Premium Member Pruning

deadhead any grudges
slough off wilted feelings
instill a will to replenish
what was lost with more
abhor stagnation
regain greater growth

4-13-2022

Coasting

I pretend I'm alright
And put my best stance forward
Wear my brave face
Tryin to be smooth
Just tripped on my shoelace
What's a girl to do

Busted, razed, flat broke
My foot slipped off the pedal and into the spoke
Out of focus, idling, coasting on fumes
Myyyyy, mmmm, my oh my
Must retreat to my bedroom
For slumber; ugh - that noxious perfume
I sprayed on today
In the department store
I don't need to tell you
It reeks
That's a big pee you 

Oh my
My plan has gone awry
I try to write
After listening to Vile
He inspires me
Perspiring
Thinking bout how to
Ink brilliance
Such as he
Slamming on the brakes
My leg itches
Ya damn flea

Bravado and all
I seem to fall
I spiral out of control
Resilience reels me back in

I'm a bouncy, buoyant, headstrong girl
Go ahead and believe what you want
Self deprecation is my defense mechanism

Keep playing
those cards close to your vest
You're bluffing fool
I know this by now

Prevaricator is a might big word
For liar
As you try to set the world on fire

I see you race away
And turn my head
Pretending not to see
When you visibly disgust me

You're not proving anything
With your ostentatious
Obnoxiously awesome self

Annnnnything
I ain't seen before
And won't soon forget
I'm a rhyming
tonight
Maybe filled with fright
Or could it be boredom
Delirious laughter

G'night
Sleep and clarity are what I desire
Slough off this crap

I know it's beyond time for a nap
My RPM is slowing
My aching for REM is growing

Copyright June 17, 2023 Lori Steindorf

Should I Wow You

SHOULD I WOW YOU

Should I essay to wow you I trow
That my words shall be honest I vow
No mere rhymes such as ‘How now brown cow’
But an aesthetic furrow I’ll plough

Then I’ll speak my lines if you’ll allow
As we sit in cool shade neath a bough
And you fan gentle breeze on my brow
While empyrean scene I endow

For my impudence I should kowtow
Now please pardon my lack of knowhow 
If I press my attention e’en now
You’d be right to say ‘Basta! and chao!’

But I’ll try one more time anyhow
Just dream that you are in Curaçao
Or on tropical sea in a dhow
           **********
And then wake up in Slough. Holy wow!


21 August 2019

Coy To His Mistress

When two people fall in love,
   there's one thing that they long to do.
It's true for birds and bees and doves,
   and equally for me and you.
The pleasantest of loving deeds,
   it's fed by, and in turn it feeds,
   the fondness it's the symbol of.

Your life is in its golden prime -
   drink now, or let the chalice pass.
We're all in thrall to spiteful Time -
   enjoy your beauty while it lasts.
Say yes to love. It's death to dither.
   The rose, once blown, can only wither.
   From this high point, touch the Sublime.

You know the thing I'd have you choose!
   You understand my thrust precisely.
Who could refuse a lover who's
   petitioning your trust so nicely?
Slough off old skin of guilt and sin -
   you win this game by giving in!
   Come play with me. You cannot lose.

The Wabi-Sabi of Tintern Abbey

Things bloom more beautiful when breaking down.
The nave now ploughs through foams of flowering trees,
a frozen caravel.  Kissed by the breeze,
the river surface suddenly seems to frown
exquisitely. The apse’s jaunty crown
of weeds above one (sightless) eye would please
romantic poets. What was once a friese
lies strewn about, a shaley shanty-town.
We love whatever withers, atrophies.
To see a calked construction founder, drown
beneath its own detritus, by degrees
slough off its shape and, sinking to its knees,
expire, is satisfying. Velvet gown?
We’d much prefer to see a soiled chemise.

A lake?  A cloud?  A mountain?  Megan Fox?
If we acknowledge Beauty in these things,
what are we saying?  As when Smokey sings,
or girls emerge in slinky summer frocks,
something’s taking place outside the box
of regularity, and sprouting wings.
How might we classify these happenings?
A rupture in the norm?  The whole Baroque’s
built on this very point. If Beauty rocks,
what is the special quality it brings,
and why is it so pleasing?  Beauty flings
a spanner in the works of Orthodox,
and laughs at Workaday.  It mocks
our essence, lurks in quirks, and smirks at clocks.
                                                                                                                           
“The Wordsworth ouevre is cretinous.  Discuss.”
The Long, Laborious Quest, The Sparrow’s Nest,
The Noble Oak of Guernica, Addressed –
We can’t escape the feeling he’s a wuss.
His subjects are unconscionable, plus
the rhymes he uses are a facilefest.
If only he were even half in jest!
His humour’s unintentional, and thus
more entertaining than he could have guessed.
Yet something in his scribblings seems to wrest
significance from dross, analogous
to Newton’s differential calculus,
invented by the by, at whim’s behest.   
When Wordsworth falls apart, he’s at his best.

Premium Member Nit Picks and Picnics

~~Upon the banks of big piney slough,
   I recall a picnic with old blue,
   and my granddaughter at age two.
   and many blood sucking critters too.

~For a very short while we did picnic,
   then we would bait our hooks and pick ticks. 
   while the ants carried our food off in nit picks.
   Gets no better than this, can’t beat it with sticks!

~Mosquitoes demanded their rightful share,
   for of the blood of we humans they are an heir.
   Some dudes have no flair for this type of affair,
   after a day or two they would need repair.

~Moms who let babies grow up to be rednecks,
   raise children who can fish and pick blood ticks,
   and kill big water moccasins with little sticks,
   while picking polk salet for supper on picnics.

~Having caught a big flathead cat or two,
   I called granddaughter Sue and my dog blue,
   for I remember quit clearly when Sue was new,
   was the dog days of summer, ninety two! 

   For and in Honor of: Carol Brown
   And Contest: Picnic

Battle Ground

glorious great slough
a thirty man battle ground
lost ball abandoned

Premium Member Scam of the Con Man

Who hasn’t heard of the Nigerian Letter or the Australian Lottery won?
So what about you’re kids in college… what for them is going on?

My son found a job posted on the University’s Nursing jobs bulletin Board.
Apparently several students applied to take care of an old man coming into town.
They were each approved separately, and then sent a check…
Plus a list of nursing supplies and a wheel chair they had to pay for and pick up.
Apparently, the place to work with had already been set up.
Once everything was paid for, they were ready for the job.

Instead all they got was their accounts cleaned out.
And the Nursing supplies were another part of the scam, my dear.
In the end the money they had was gone with everything saved from the student loans.

Now the problem was made and you know what? Guess who didn’t care?
The police, University, and bank said it happens all the time.
Of course they turned away saying it wasn’t their concern.
The bank told my son he owed $3400 more, even through he was the victim of the fraud.
The Banks fraud department yawned and said they wouldn’t look into what was done.
In fact, they were sending his accounts into collections to attack him even more.

Slough it off, and attack the victim, and of course none of them would do their work.
Mail fraud, money fraud, and con men involved… across state lines meant nothing at all.
Attacking the victim is not where the Banks, police, and university belong.
So let me tell you The States’ Attorney General is the next on the list.
The Attorney General and the Federal Government is where to go, my friend.
Don’t give up on the internet, there are help groups there, that abound.
Tell your children of the game… to keep them far away.

The bank wants my son’s next student loan money for collections on the debt…
And he will have to work full time at minimum wage to survive.
You might say everything at the moment… is truly upside down.
But we will fight unendingly… to straighten everyone out…

What a Christmas job deal breaker… and what a way to find out…

Pure Filth

When the woollen industry died,
the reservoir that fed the old mill,
became disused.
The water meadow at its head
became a swamp.
Developers,
who want to build houses everywhere,
take one look at the quagmire,
sniff the stench fouled air, and walk away.
The channels are long blocked.
The drains are long broken.
So a freed, unmanaged, unmanacled nature;
binges on the anarchy of liberation,
brewing a brackish broth of sweet stagnation.

Children are warned to stay away
from the deadly, dangerous, disease 
ridden slough.
Lest the Knucker Dragon, swamp devil,
swallow them whole.
Bulrushes,
point brown accusing fingers to the sky,
blaming the heavens for their 
muddied becoming and placement.
Blood worm larvae,
orphaned Fly Nymphs,
ravenous in the root and stem of grasses;
greedily gorge without discrimination,
where cannibal repast; is often a relation.

Herons, are shadows that pass over,
heading for the cleaner waters below.
Snipe scutter
in the soft mire, poking for grubs.
Busily burying beaks in the 
flowering Bogbean, and Hogweed: 
Yellow Flag Iris,
and Ragged Robin,
rampantly roar a rich cacophony of colour.
Beady eyed, scruffy small,
fat water vole.
Mining leerdammer labyrinths in the banks,
faring fine on favoured vegetation,
prosperously multiply in stinking habitation.

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