Best Stiller Poems
There comes a time,
in the early, but
not so early, morn
when, and this is key,
if a portion of an instant
rationed a morsel of a moment -
but a crumb of that fell free
and it cast a deep shadow
whose depths made mockeries
of spelunk;
which you may remember
you'd dreamt of in some past
life and, if from this minusculity
sprang, the littlest offspring,
a hint of a glance of,
a coup d'oeil
the last of day,
the half-remembered,
prior life
when, if you glimpse
the newborn gold,
your heart'll still,
your mind'll still
and yes, your stillness
be distilled into
stiller still
if your heart and eyes
don't again conspire
to draw your mind
to your routine
of first and, perhaps
only, taking in the
most of things
the highlights and the
canopy's myriad meanderings
the rootings at their footings
supposed but rarely seen
in dark, in secret but
carrying no wrong
rather though
in the tree trunks'
simple middle
for a briefest, gilted
eternity, the trees
will burn not from
their crown
nor from their feet
and, despite the ice,
the sparkless space,
the cold steel
darts of insistent
slanting rains,
the trees will burn,
the trees will burn,
and all-at-once
the peripatetic sun,
its whims having won,
will dance along
and share its breath
with everyone
Categories:
stiller, light, sun, time,
Form:
Free verse
Oh, how we watch a town go by!
Pieces of life
wrapped against the elements,
going somewhere,
always going somewhere.
From this upper window,
my eye is a searchlight,
sweeping the streetscape.
I celebrate my stillness
by remaining still,
stiller,
and stiller still,
holding my breath,
stilling my eyes till they sting.
I will my stillness
to fill me, envelop me,
hold me still from within and without,
a force pushing out and in,
creating an equilibrium for my soul.
And still the life below
scurries, scampers,
scuttles, skitters,
fizzes, bubbles, lives,
the quick and undead,
each destined
to be still one day.
(September 2021)
Categories:
stiller, city, humanity, life,
Form:
Free verse
New York, New York, the road in the fork
of the events, the places and folks who've buttered the pork
Like Rockefeller, Moynihan and Andrew Cuomo
Frank Sinatra, Louie Armstrong, John Lenon and Yoko Ono
Lenny Bernstein and Lenny Bruce
Cookie Monster, Rocky and Bullwinkle Moose
There's Radio City, Central Park and Carnegie Hall
Coney Island, Yankee Stadium -- Let's Play Ball!
The Brooklyn Bridge on the Hudson River
Lower East Side and the Village, for swingin' livers
Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and White Ford
Don't forget Casey Stengel and Yogi Berra -- Oh, my Lord!
Marilyn Monroe, Madonna and Phyllis Diller in curlers
Archie Bunker, the Meathead, Anne Meara and Jerry Stiller
Stooge-mania, West Side Story and Annie Hall
Kramden, Norton and the Honeymooners
You've seen or heard of 'em all
There's Madison Square Garden and the NY Philharmonic
The Times and Wall Street Journal -- news junkies tonics
Malcolm X, Dr. King, and Abe Saperstein
Julius Erving / Dr. J with a case of Afro-sheen
Baldies like Kojac and Yul Brynner, the King of Siam
Sam I Am, Son of Sam, Green Eggs and Ham
Harlem Globetrotters, the Apollo, Kareem Abdul Jabbar
Jay Leno, Ed McMahon and Johnny Carson, the great Jack Paar
There's Broadway, Times Square, Soho and Fifth Avenue
Isaac Stern, Pavoratti, Willie Nelson and Ray Charles singin' the blues ...
Make a list from the Statue of Liberty all the way up to Mars
~ You still might leave out a legacy of constellations and stars!
Categories:
stiller, film, music, new york,
Form:
Rhyme
Johnny, jump up, spring thyme has sprung!
Sun's morning glory pours into your window peaks.
Arise, tired eyes, lift your cheeks with a smile!
Kiss me sweetly; These tulips are for you.
Lettuce turnip the volume of robins' chirping
by a closer stride, a stroll outside.
Take a breath of fresh air, as it freesia.
Butterflies drink from the dew of the buttercups.
Bluebells are ringing a welcoming beet.
Blue birds are singing their rhapsodies.
Lilacs are back in full bloom.
Make room for Dusty Miller.
His baby's breath is stiller
than a sweet pea in the valley.
Orange you happy that you rose up
to see our mums in perfect peace?
Cauliflower a weed or a treat;
Some flowers are even healthy to eat!
Lettuce romaine here and taste the scene.
Thistle be an amazing spring!
Flowers:
Johnny Jump Up
Morning Glory
Tulips
Freesia
Buttercups
Bluebells
Lilac
Dusty Miller
Baby's Breath
Sweet Pea
Rose
Mums
Herbs:
Thyme
Vegetables:
Lettuce
Turnip
Beet
Cauliflower
Romaine Lettuce
Fruit:
Orange
Weeds:
Thistle
Categories:
stiller, bird, blue, flower, mum,
Form:
Free verse
On a voyage across a vast
sea of discovery. The tide is
turning through winds of
change, now every day shall
not be the same.
My crashing waves with in
my mind are turned to calm
waters, the air is still and the
water stiller. with a clear view
of the horizon and opportunity
rising.
The whirlpool ceases turning
and my mind is at rest, this
whirling mess can new be
addressed.
From the deep blue sea I break
the surface, gasping a fresh new
start its a chance to make a whole
new me.
I'm discovering many things
as the storm water calms, its
time to find the true man I am.
Categories:
stiller, blue, deep, faith, me,
Form:
mountain top
i feel the lack of oxygen
stiller than a mannequin
atmosphere a reading lens
the smell of my heating skin
I can dodge the poison oak
jumped off the tallest rock
look into the heart of pools
almost heard the meadow talk
the silence speaks
language of the higher plane
echoes from a time before
buzzing in the summer rain
sierra: spine of the wild west
the red dust never settled
free lands never rest
moves beyond a human eye
motions set from centuries
beyond the moment presently
a lonely souls pleasantries
finite: this time is bittersweet
as far as eyes can see
the history is deep
yet mountains barely weep
unmovable and defining
a significance is made
down the rocky grades
life flooding our plains
we forever wish to tame
Categories:
stiller, heaven, imagery, inspiration, mountains,
Form:
Rhyme
Meandering horizontally,through a wide open chasm,
Inundated to a depth you can't really fathom.
Unlike a stream,this aint no dream;
When she reaches the rapids,you'll have no chance to scream.
With undercurrents so strong and a distance so long,
To search for your remains the people will throng.
Devoid of swell or rollers,breakers and surf;
Her hydrodynamics make her queen of the turf.
Expect no gurgle or babble,a swash or a spurt;
If you dont watch out it will cause you some hurt.
Not a ripple,no surge;not the tiniest creep:
The stiller her surface....the more she runs deep.
--- Princefreakasso
{Artist and poet}
P.S. This poem is dedicated to Brian Strand,
a wonderful person and as fine a poet can be.
Categories:
stiller, dedication
Form:
Light Verse
Dear friend,
I am trying to master the ancient art of Almond Milking. It's quite difficult and my sweetie hasn't had a drink of almond milk in months. I started with cats to improve my dexterity, but they kept getting away and the little stinkers kept scratching me. The great thing about almonds is that they tend to be a bit more co-operative. I am hopeful that by Christmas I will have achieved my goal.
There is one question I would appreciate an answer to, how do I find the nipple? I thought it was at the pointy end and as I was simultaneously squeezing the ends of two almonds they shot out from my fingers. I was mortified when they inadvertently struck the buttocks of a lady police officer. She turned around with such blinding speed I was surprised...What surprised me even more was that she drew and shot her Taser. Ironically both leads pierced my nipples.
One last thing, do you know how I can get milk stains out of my shirt???
Sincerely,
Donald P. Thump
This piece was inspired by my friend David McKay after he sent the following email to me. His comment was the result of an earlier conversation about the scene in the movie "Meet the Fockers." In the movie Ben Stiller says, "You can milk anything with nipples." Robert Deniro responds, "I have nipples, can you milk me?"
David's email: Thanks for joining us. Nice to see you and Mary again, and remember Richard "You can milk anything with nipples" Lol!
Ttyl!
David McKay
Sent from iPhone
Categories:
stiller, adventure,
Form:
Prose
I awake, dull crusted in shadows,
to the swelling roar of hard rain on shingles
wetly dripp'd down rusted gutters,
air thick with cool moisture,
ozone sharp razor clean,
somehow, the sod grew a deep green coat in one night
as dogwoods shed blossoms like fragrant dandruff,
when did spring arrive?
my mind still bundled in deep winter time,
ghosts of snowfields, untouched by sun,
blanket my mood in a stiller time
now shattered by detonations of life
melted by pollen infused with wind
scintillate bands of light burn laser bright
through pregnant clouds rain gray
beams play like shining faeries on the sill
as a weird biology compels me to arise
rush headlong onto verdant lea
dervish twirl'd and humid breathed
but lightswitched it's gone
thunderheads roll like playground bullies
smearing runnels on the window
dogwood prism'd to a streak
as I shrink back to a pillow
smelling faintly of grass.
Categories:
stiller, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Affleck, Bailey, Banneker, Bernanke, Big, Blue,
Button, Crenshaw, Disraeli, Dover, Folds, Franklin,
Gazzara, Goodman, Graham, Harper, Harrison, Hogan,
Kingsley, Johnson, Kweller, Netanyahu, Parsons,
Roethlisberger, Spock, Stein, Stiller, Turpin, Uncle, Vereen,
… and Jerry
Categories:
stiller, funny
Form:
Free verse
"50 Words for Poe: Hysteria"
Incantation to you
Manifesting the Phantom
with the Hysteria Paroxysm Blues
Hellfire Club got nothin’ on you
Hot hysteria paroxysms
flying on your broom
a whole new world
Black cat purrs
You, the catnip for this girl
https://youtu.be/boQ9ytantA0
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/ETIPuORrPyo
“I put a spell on you”
“Little gusts of sunshine blew, strangely bright, and lit up the celandines at the wood's edge, under the hazel-rods, they spangled out bright and yellow. And the wood was still, stiller, but yet gusty with crossing sun. The first windflowers were out, and all the wood seemed pale with the pallor of endless little anemones, sprinkling the shaken floor. 'The world has grown pale with thy breath.' But it was the breath of Persephone, this time; she came out of hell on a cold morning. Cold breaths of wind came, and overhead there was an anger of entangled wind caught among the twigs. It, too, was caught and trying to tear itself free, the wind, like Absalom. How cold the anemones looked, bobbing their naked white shoulders over crinoline skirts of green. But they stood it. A few first bleached little primroses too, by the path, and yellow buds unfolding themselves.” D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover
Categories:
stiller, dark, imagery, magic, muse,
Form:
Romanticism
Somewhere, in my subconscious mind, I'm consciously unconscious, as I stand here still, very still,
Adamantly adamantine; still time's running past me in a stiller stillness.
I stare at things, and look right back, to see the things look back at me,
With eyes that con, so I know this thing, it has happened before; but I'm always looking for something more.
Categories:
stiller, confusion, mystery,
Form:
Blank verse
The Darwin Awards are based upon Darwin's theory
regarding the survival of the fittest and elimination of the weak.
The less intelligent die off and are eliminated from the gene pool
and it is to they that the Darwin Awards are awarded to.
The Darwin Awards are awarded tongue in cheek.
Awards are given to they who died due to their own stupidity.
Paul Stiller, 47, and his wife Bonnie
were bored just driving around at about 2 A.M.
so they lit a quarter stick of dynamite to toss out the window
just to see what would happen.
Someone should have told them that the window was closed.
and so to Paul and Bonnie Stiller this Darwin Award goes.
However, they don't truly qualify for a Darwin Award actually
because both of them miraculously survived their injuries,
but I'm sure that a Darwin Award will be granted in their future inevitably.
Categories:
stiller, death, people, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
There are some nights
when I am asked,
to bring the ginger ale.
I carry the seemingly
benign beverage from
the cellar without fail.
As I reach the top step,
I can see him
reach below the sink.
20 oz. of Canadian Whiskey
And a shot of the ale
…the recipe for his drink.
He downs these libations,
steadily through the eve.
Slowly things change.
The room gets hotter,
air is stiller, silently I sit.
Staying out of range.
I watch and wait
and say a prayer
to do nothing that incites.
You see I have a reason
to dread the drink
and those lonely
ginger ale nights.
Categories:
stiller, husband, life, social, prayer,
Form:
Free verse
The Broken Fountain Pen Disaster
Underfoot the dropped was-so-lost pen breaks snapping its midnight ink artery to spurt explosively out like some imprisoned force nearly dead but up again sucking in saving air and spread on
dispersing into freedom in a fly across the floor the long streaks of such random black arcs streaking falling staining the canvas on which our living room is drawn together between a sofa and yellow wing- chair on the gray carpet there will be an awful task to clean this now became a Jackson Pollock’s winking quickly cast so rapidly set.
After the stroke we gape as the room itself clutches a stiller life mood blank in an erased atmosphere forgetting any will to find a contour of drawn new breath or speech only yet
whispers feel of loss in a similar kind of dreaded time as when the casket sits in the room for a wake under mounds of white roses while hinting of prayers and phrases of grief
by Rilke
until finally someone declares the tragedy Into the past turning to suggest the use of gold leaf rather than ink on the outlines of the next drawing of the hour as it may proceed.
**********. **********. **********. **********
(C) sally Young Eslinger 11/2020
Thanks be to God
Categories:
stiller, art, imagery,
Form:
Prose