Best Sluice Poems
written on time’s page
with finite syllables of dust
he spelled my heritage
from earth to sky
along an umbilical line of faith
we fluttered from the lips of fingers
fully form for purpose
written on an invisible calculus
that bring monarchs where birth mark lingers
and salmons somersaulting sluice and streams
turtles, penguins, and herons white wings
netted in design with nested tabula rasa mind
I have an argument
against the beginning begotten from a bang
before atom or element
I have an argument against force and natural laws
at work without mass or embodiment
for embryonic gravity or forces weak or strong
I have an argument
that the singularity could not become more than fragment
of energy again if a single atom explode
its forces flocking away from fusion
for energy fission to explode
a theory
flimsy as spiders web
dethroning my majesty gulped
in primeval slime unlinked history from love
minimizing the particular time of our becoming on ships
that met the stagnant eyes of swampy thoughts … shuddering
in vain
the whip cracks louder than pain -
and on our black blistered backs … crumbling
soils in desertification threw some syllables skywards for mercy
starvation winds with sickle clouds of rain
they lie again ... leaving us without inheritance
for all our labors, lost, and grievance
what bang can buck the strain
and bring us broken souls to glory again?
Hereabouts the thinning glades
Of sparse grey Birches:
Brackens crisp copper tresses
All aglow;
Gently waking Snowdrops
Lift their sleepy heads
From leafy beds of woodland moil,
When tucked snugly up,
Out of intrusive sight and just
Below.
Fondly the slowing bend
Hugs upon the river...
Banked heavily with frosted
Bulrushes
That shifting breezes once did so
Stiffly blow;
The faltering current,
That sped the pied Dipper,
Patiently seeks out the quiet
Devotions
Of her beguiling flow.
When the drawing Moonlight
Gives way to purple Twilight
In the gloaming
Of Winters sharp days;
When the yellowy willows
Weep watery glints
Lingering and loitering...
Pining for long Summers slanted
Rays.
For far, far, high above
Over the old red-bricked mill...
Whose creaking sluice gurgles
With long melancholy sighs:
Heavens twinkling stars,
Held briefly in abeyance,
Partially obscured by thin veils of
Dull-leaden, magenta tinged skies.
Where the low horizons fall
And briefly meet the mornings
On heathered moor, open field,
And inland shore:-
Here beached boats dreaming
Of white crested waves;
Soon the keen plough will make
Ready
To score the deep furrows once
More.
Now our Lady Skadi,
Purest and resplendent,
Through driving sleet
And blinding blizzards will ascend -
Returning to aged fortress
Of eternal Utgard
Leaving her thawing snows
To dispel long Winters End!
ghost, river, shiver, gaze, tender, cold
Ghost River
Ghost river runs without a shrink.
Little known in polite circles.
With cupped hands, the shameless down drink.
Suspended place, not inked in journals.
A decisive shiver up spine.
Why’d a boat wait at foggy shore?
He’d smiled at me, as we’d cheered wine.
Trepidation ripe in my core.
His leather gaze; something so strong.
It’s cold in this romantic boat.
The oars sluice in mud; bid ‘so long.’
This life offers me an antidote.
Awful the scented rose petals,
so inky ebonic afloat.
Tender whispers amidst nettles
of thorns piercing my inner throat.
Before I thought to scream, the hosts
in revelry asked me to join.
“Get out of the boat…” (drown, they coax)
Madness! Their eyes’ covered with coins.
My eyes flutter open at once.
There’s a knock at the door. It’s him.
I’ve been warned; palpitations in flux.
Satan’s given a pseudonym.
I shake off my trepidation,
it’s only a dream; excited.
Suddenly - a celebration.
Down in the waters, invited.
No longer a dream, a nightmare.
I’d never awaken…no prayer.
Why, why, why? Is all I ask
Do you send these folk my way
They're not the ones I'd choose myself
But I attract within hooray
You must have plans to work me Lord
Have I really gone astray
I try so hard to be polite
You send me those who groan
From trials of life
Crying painful body drones
But I face a war continually Lord
Spine crumbling pained bones
I questioned much over the years
Of those you sent my way
But each one has had effect on me
What will I have learned today
I want to tell of things you've done
And why I've learnt to pray
You sent me counseling to help
Through things wrong in my youth
Then church fellowship did help me through
When marriage went down sluice
A teacher friend taught me much
In assertiveness and truth
You sent me someone kind and true
When I'd thought life was gone
A friend of a friend a neighbors brother
Turned out to be the one
Who'd bring me home and settle again
Protect me and my two sons
You showed me work where I did learn
The skills to pull me through
In kitchens I did learn to cook
In schools help my children too
The staff within were pillars and rocks
In illness helped me do
You send others now to my house
Now I can't go out all alone
I used to sit and ponder sorry
I couldn't do things on my own
But now I have found new waters
I can swim and write a poem
I help others through my charity support
When I can get to phone
I can help in ways that others cant
And control load with able zone
I listen to those there struggling
Look at positives not moan
So I'm thankful for those folk you sent
Though I don't understand your process
But each time one has helped me to
Understand and cope it's noticed
So send someone to help I'll pray
And I'll listen as perfect hostess
Author's notes
Okay, so I realize as it stands it needs tweaking, but at the time the pen flowed and now it
needs some TLC... any ideas welcome, although I do not want to detract from the
meaning/depth. Any idea of rhyme was not originally intentional so please forgive I know at
present its dreadful!! Help please?
7/22/21
People continuing to show hate
As if they themselves are so great
While the planet continues to rotate
Boy you need a lot more than Colgate
You thought it did, but it carried no weight
Don't make me, or I'll put you in yo place
The evidence will be difficult to locate
Only got 24 so I poured up some twenty fours
Ready for many more
It's been a deadly war
Pulled through with tremendous force
While I weathered any storms
The answers to such questions, is like seeking an endless source
People continuing to act fake
In good or bad shape
Dealing with another backache
Life will give and it shall take
Let's get the facts straight
Life moves at a fast pace
Don't end up in last place
In this giant rat race
Why have they
Continued to act that way
Been another bad day
Empty bottles and an ashtray
The same old pathway
Could just never keep it all at bay
It's been revolting
As life continues unfolding
After the whole thing
Not just a gold ring
Yet it always ends up being an ice cold drink
Empty or a full drink
Be bold or sink
Who am I kidding, I always got one, like it's a cool thing
What the f*** am I really doing?
Who am I truly fooling?
Why am I always smoking and boozing?
Winning and losing
At times it is or isn't amusing
As death is always looming
Underneath objects in the sky zooming
In space matter devoured by black holes that keep consuming
Regardless of if we once were schoolmates
It's all been a wild goose chase
People still being two faced
Calling others a fruitcake
Let me give ya'll a news break
I'm going to get much more than a few scrapes
While above and below sluice gates
Having a wallet and safe full of bills with a blue face
Still traveling through space
Got rid of the evidence, no need for a suitcase
Those that give and others who take
Coming in rough, obscure or smooth shapes
Close to estates that grew grapes
In order to make
Wine all the time, before it's all too late
Before it's all too late
What's getting accomplished if always you wait?
I'm going to continue to mutate
Getting it done before the due date
Otherwise it all would be a huge waste
Tongues loose, tongues in a hangman’s noose
Wag without care to declare nonsense
As wisdom salvaged from the sluice
Where nonsense whacked common sense
Lost in a sea of error whose terror
Harmed victims concealed by protagonists who opted to promote
The cult of nonsense whose defence mirror
Plunged into reverse gears that chose to demote
Common sense when tongue waggers
Congregated in an occult cabal to upgrade gossiping skills
As though grapevine daggers
Staggered upper echelons of wisdom whose quills
Spilled reason in dark corners where tongue waggers shared nonsense seeds
Plus fertilizers of idleness and the icing on cakes of lies
Whose taste on tongues that wagged feeds
Total belief in naked gossip sties
Tied malfeasants together tighter
The better for them to wage war on common sense and desecrate workplace etiquette
Which is anathema to tenets of ultimate gossipers rate lighter
Than curses the wisdom ticket
That caught gossipers red handed munching grapevine beans
While sharing tins and pins of sins
For which gossipers scrambled when grapevine means
Came under close scrutiny when truth queens
Declared grapevines illegal in Wisdom Land
Where any culprit convicted of spreading gossip propaganda
Would be stripped of the royal brand
And punished for the gossip blunder
Committed without shame
To discredit the truth and integrity
In solemn worship of the blame name and claim
Would be sent to Coventry for eternity.
Written: September 08, 2023
______________________________________________________________
In the realm of fearless pranks, we meet,
Where weakfish lump and teardrops greet.
A sluice of inducement we embark upon,
With words that excoriate as a lethal swan.
With a droplet of grit and a split decision,
We dismantle our panic with precision.
Such a weak swimming against the tide,
We defy expectations; we won't hide.
In this realm of a daring escapade,
We flare a trail, unafraid.
Raze the doubts, raze the walls,
Letting our spirit freely sprawl.
An escapade, a venture, a thrilling bout,
Shoots of adrenaline, there's no doubt.
Through each channel, we navigate,
Teasing danger, embracing fate
Each hint of chutzpah and boldness.
We tame fears if we're brave and relentless.
But beware, for along this path we tread,
There are lacerations that can't be fled.
The journey may leave us fractured and worn.
But in those moments, true strength is born.
Such a broken teardrop, we may feel the pain.
But we gather our courage, ready to regain.
Through the smoke of depreciation and doubt,
We emerge, displacing the fears that shout.
With chloropicrin in our veins, we prevail.
Indenting our mark, leaving no trail.
In this realm of daring escapades,
We find solace in being unswayed.
Even in chaos, we discover peace.
Plucked delight as lachrymator release.
Gimme some dat twelve bar blues
bucket of beer, some otha booze
sluice you from my mind.
Wake up late with an achin head
bleary eyes and feelin half dead
none of you to find.
(sung – in a round pussy willow warble - to the tune of --
Oh Where Oh Where has my little dog gone)
With a flam boy hunt deft jais nais sais quois
firm lickey split tongue
and two bell yule yar pissant
little nappy ruck berry filled up paul ling sacks
viz peppy la pew doth not peter out,
and weathers clawed rained swipes
from hello kitty when faux pas gets swung
assisting climbing Jacob's ladder
(without pussy footing,
orb bing a putz like the president)
advancing quick to attain orgasmic rung
while heading into a slippery sloping sluice
(with prickly endeavor emitting cleat trill
smooth sailing along a ****
re coarse upon phallic shaped pung
crossing la brea tar pits (peppered
with lai bee ha tricky bridge over the River Kwai)
comprising ideal place de la resistance
to woo tang clan foreign nee Kate,
where two puckered rill lee fleshy ruffling rills
tinged pinkish lips overhung
a challenging escarpment,
where many a brave Tom, Harry or Dick get hung
up, particularly while searching for fabled “G” spot,
cuz portcullis hamstrung
even the most fiercely determined
Engleburt Hump per dink
necessitating the moist risky ski maneuver
as most studs know tubby gelandesprung
though booby prize wool worth any slimy setbacks,
where sticky gook gets flung
from angry cat,
who does not in the least find amusing,
and if further pricked with rage
not averse to hurl dung
gar (with) ease at snaky,
retractable hardened beastie boy twill clung
for dear life and limb (er, or twig and berries),
while applying crampons (bivouaced
within his maxipad), viz bung
gull low, essentially a ball peen size cove
hammered out by Dashiell Hammitt, where coiled,
kinked follicles strewn tightly inlet among
pheromone laced verboten fruit.
'It is my faith that every flower
enjoys the air it breathes.'
To live means to be aware
and take time to see and care.
To live is to apprehend and forgive.
To live means to share,
open windows, appreciate,
love, understand and perceive.
Endear yourself, dear friend,
seek out your dignity,
and never keep your head down
lest, let me say, you fail,
when you fall down, to rise up
like before.
You will make it.
You will hopefully make it
no matter how perilous, daunting
and imposed this way of life
might seem. Arise, Awake and Be.
Plant the flowers of your garden
and guide the sluice of water into them.
Nobody will do it better except you.
Nobody will step in your shoes.
Look at their flowers and wonder.
Spring is coming despite winter.
Help its coming by going back
to your home and garden.
Chokri Omri
persians pickled
firm and crunchy,
thin and pint size -
spice them with little red flakes
and briny water.
pack them side by side
in a sparkling jar.
twist, pop that top,
fork-stab those
puckery suckers.
serve:
alongside a sandwich -
perhaps a plump pastrami
or
with dumplings drizzled
with thick and savory gravy
or
combine spears with choice cheese
on an appetizer plate,
pleasing to the palate.
experience the hiss, the crunch,
the sluice of slipperiness —
the bumpy pleasantly-green dill.
2/19/2020
From a metre of cellotape one can actually fashion a spear. To fashion is neither fashionable nor cosmopolite it is merely to work an object into a work. And to work is to toil so don't throw the washing in a tall bin. It is wise to tie shoe laces symmetrically for doctrines might become very upset and cry. Which causes tidal waves to throw themselves upon lands. Oh boiling hot pan when will the hour of warmth be given to the ingredients? Forty minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Enough time to race around carrying a silver knife, a goblet of resin, a ball of dough, and fifty fluffy jellied eels with paperprint hats. Wow. Whoosh goes a sluice then. Again and again and again and again. And a mealworm with glowing eyes attends a fancy dress gala dressed as a pair of pruning shears. Fear not an ornate orchid snapping at a breeze. Fear only manicured manifestation of mirrored meows in tight skirts prowling corridors for caper supper. Supposed to be angled. Supposed to be superfluous. But starting is stopping and skirting is to stall. Stallion strength seeping staffing savouries. Haha and watch the new number of prancing prawns playing patio polo. And derive no wisdom from an item with many clauses. Had a shower with 3M radioactive isotopes in a very interestingly decorated tent. Wow. Stacking starting stirring. Xxxxx ornithine ordered orange ones. Xxxxx gardenias going gymnastic xxxxx institutionalised z
Left over overspills are a typewritten error and a grammatical code of which there is no collision of nouns, verbs or adjectives. Descent described design deriving dug dirt. And a soil no shine. A voided coloured counting ball is many balls on cruises to oil lakes. Found in farm grounds. Sluice then slice slice slice. But thrice times an angle in a wailing tree is nit a crystallized orb nor is it a hyperlink or a cycle of cubic measurement. Mature mo frozen italic of thought to a paper in the mind. And gathering although hazardous is another feat to match the toes of soul. Anatomical wisdom rattle. Shake shake shake. And a smiley snake grimaces at very tight reeds to pass to get the kill. Good. Greedy goblins grabbing gestational genital garments giving going gravitationally. And in addition to this a wide mouthed toad sits on that cake over there. Good. Fake that freezer pop. Z augments Z pathologically Z
Follow me down
To the cold oceans playground
Where children dance and frolic
At building sandcastle dreams
That the sea will sluice away
Beginning its concerto
From the driftwood surfing waves
Over the metronome melody
Of the gilded Herring Gull
And the rhythmic percussion
From the smoothed rolling pebbles
The symphony consumes
Softly hanging in the Atlantic winds
Just cresting over the song of dawn
The strings of the Willow reverberating
In concert with the viola of first light…
Hyperthermia can be caused by standing in slip streams in sluice dumps. It never really fails if ice water can run a lake from a rusted tap. And the mid morning broken by the drip drip drip from a nozzle. Squirt then. Nozzles are not noses and noses are not neon. But bringing a interdimensional b track record is now considered to be as slack as wearing dungarees in a cottage garden or a farm. Wow such rich aroma and oversized overspill of oversight. From a wide lusty frame. Whose discussions with a female mongoose will go unnoticed once the turmoil begins. Cover oneself with fifty six sheets, a record collection, five billion cassettes and consider life as a plant. Conversation cleverly choosing charismatic charming chequered chins chasing chests. And a dodo on a mountaineering expedition with two hundred tyrannosaurus rex, eighty-three teradactals and a half pint of lemonade in a nice clean jug. To wash with not drink. What on earth did you think. The amazement of some is often to the admonishment of another and the cruel multiplatonic indifference is what the name of the takeaway should be called. To be ingested in front of the ray machine. Hypnotic baby soothers. In mass. In amps. En masse. But not en suite. For that is merely utilised for the jam production in many hue and flavour. How very clever thought the passing bluebird. Halfway to town and twenty seeds left. Then right. Fortification of flames on a canal trip taking turns steering. Good. And fashion no necklace into a giant statue of an old hero. Hearing a moon beam then? Good. For at that elevation you should hear even the most daintiest cry from a single blade of field. Dare to dance with that then? Yes? Great. Fantastically freeformed frame fishes. And the hallways smile in castles worldwide. Grab then a hat,a coat, some gloves and build a symmetrical snowman with a crane. Hahahaha beetle borrowing books hahahaha laughing leering lecherous lurking leeches. Xxxxx hyperbolic z this is the midday bulletin from the p y q reporting live from the headquarters at 89.0 whisking. X