Best Tripping Poems
Bewilderment all around
Lost in places
Never seen or felt before
Is it best just to forget?
Tripping over issues
You can’t resolve
I don’t like this phase
Where happiness
Scatter
As if it knows heartache
Is around the corner
Tripping over loneliness
That invisible rope
Yet,
I feel that proverbial space
I’ve been here before
I can deal with this…
On my own is not so bad
It is better to be on my own
Then with someone that
Makes me feel alone
©270520141608
Tripping
She's tripping over memories
of those red flags she had.
It seems to her the good times
are far outweighed by bad.
She's running out of patience
she's run out of things to say.
She asked God give me one reason
to make me want to stay.
She listened for a moment
to the silence in the air.
She smiled and said there ain't one
or like me You just don't care.
She packed up her belongings
and she called a moving van.
She could have trained an army
with the time spent on one man.
She smiled again as she thought about
when he walked in that door.
When he sees what didn't matter
matters less now than before.
She left a table by his easy chair
and by the lamp she left a note.
She wondered if he'd bother
even reading what she wrote.
This song and dance was over
long before it even started.
You took me for a fool
that you easily outsmarted.
No good deed goes unpunished
now my good deeds are through.
The kind of man you chose to be
has now caught up to you.
There's warm beer on the counter
your dog is at your brothers.
Don't bother trying to call me
I'll be staying at your mothers.
Edwin C Hofert
Is it just me?
Alone in my head?
Figuring if am alive or dead...
all alone... please come inside
Who else is here? you. me. us. all Three?
3 in 1
alone or with my amigo
ego, you there? do you exist?...
Illusion? To be put to the test?
No not I... I not a rabbi... nor Teacher
Just a sleeper....
If "in death, what dreams may come!"
Am I still a dreamer?
"Tripping the Light Fantastic"
Dance?
She said,
romancing
the lost agenda
You’re so
left
sold
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
“Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.”
sold
soled
souled
In the vastness of the Heavens/
Where shadows twist and sway/
God sits upon His throne/
Craving praise everyday/
A delusional narcissist/
In robes of iron clad might/
Condemns the soul's below/
To eternal, fiery night/
He whispers of love/
Yet rules with an iron fist/
Demanding blind devotion/
A sadistic, twisted tryst/
Freedom of choice/
A mirage in His cruel game/
For seeking higher power/
We are shackled in His name/
How can love and tyranny/
Dwell in one divine embrace/
A God who craves glory/
Yet condemns the human race/
Tripping on insanity/
In His quest for adoration/
He damns those who refuse/
To eternal condemnation/
In fires below/
Where His wrath does reside/
Lies the truth of His nature/
The Devil in disguise/
A sadistic puppet master/
With traits so dark and grim/
God be tripping on insanity/
And we're all bound to him/
Trip, trip, trip, tripping on insanity/
Tripping Point: An Opioid Odyssey
There are lines we cannot see, hardly know exist
Until we cross them. Then, as if by trip wire,
The temptress snare catapults us into a world
Of primeval darkness with no guide star.
“Hear my song and have a life of feel good”, she promises;
Her dissembled melody the dirge we can’t stop hearing.
Like a virus embedded in DNA she corrupts the message
Using us to propagate her death traps for more unwitting.
Lust for this mistress, Sans Merci, becomes insatiable,
Devouring all we love or live for - even hope itself!
Oh had I Circe’s warning:
Bind me to the mast, fill my sailors’ ears
With wax and sail alee of the siren’s song.
Copyright © 2018 Paul M Thomson
….,,,,,.. … ,. ,
reds of tango
dancing on soaked light…
foot crushes
watchful roses
©modern haiku
…………….
*Dance like nobody’s watching!
Cindy MacMillan’s “ Creativity—Write a Modern Haiku
By: nette onclaud
somethings change and
somethings stay the same
walking into the basement bathroom
noticing how the light reflects off of
the mirror above the towel hanger
now there are mermaid bones mixed
in the porcelain and urine in my toilet.
standing there longer than usual staring down.
half of me amber siphoned out and my lips are dry,
half pack of camels in my left pocket.
somehow acrylic sanitary acronymns float to the surface,
i stare at them, but i cant quite make them out.
oh well what a waste i think, i might have needed some of those.
then i remember the acid stamps i had taken a few hours earlier,
i think they were called purple elephant.
Tripping on Insanity, lucid dreaming nightmare/
People hating on me but I'm chilling like I don't care/
Making deals with the Devil, paying all my dues/
Spawning many demons and he only dropping clues/
Not holding up his end of the deal trying to play me/
So, now I'm fighting demons that I spawned losing daily/
But they'll never break me, and one day he'll take me/
Dealing with a serpent I should've known he would snake me/
Now I'm trapped in chains, that burn like live wire/
So I'm going to war, fighting fire with fire/
They want me to expire but I'm a Vampire/
I'm not going down till the lady sing the choir/
Until then I'm keeping all my black attire/
And welcome any demon who baptized in fire/
So if you're a qualifier come join me now/
We will keep fighting until I make the serpent bow down/
Tripping on Insanity, trip, trip, trip/
They say I'm losing my mind, but I never done the crime/
It's like walking around with a chainsaw looking exhausted/
This my third day without eating a meal/
The only thing I ate was my medication/
Tripping on Insanity because I never done the crime/
That leprechaun follows me around/
And walk around for hours without making a sound/
I just call him lucky and lucky my friend/
He never say anything but always offer a cigarette/
We walk around everyday looking for golf/
And everyday, he telling me to rob another store/
The stores are real generous they give me all they got/
They fill my backpack until it overflow the top/
They're the only people that's nice to me/
I'm tripping on Insanity but I feel good/
They're calling me insane but I'm just misunderstood/
Painted in a mural,
Flat vision for eyesight.
Unable to connect.
The world is so unreal.
Stealing the ether of abstract visions
my thoughts wander to kiss memories,
resurrected through fractured pains.
Needle breaks the surface, but is
unable to penetrate the chemical perimeter
that shrouds my conscience.
Drifting in rainbow fantasies,
nirvana beckons with painted smiles.
Becalmed beneath echoed sighs,
I trip on fractured moonbeams
and wallow, bleeding angst potential
Cream egg sunset melts into chocolate mountains
as soap bubble trip crashes and burns.
Reality kicks my head in.
Drains my moat of illusions,
exposing ejecta from the real.
Parkinson’s hands grope for salvation,
lying on its pseudo silver bed.
Just one glowing tongue from the candle
to wake the dragon; to prowl my dreams.
Track marks whisper hypnotic seductions
to release my narcotic soul; warping freedom
to fit, snug, as a second skin.
Dripping, piece by piece, into oblivion
The Summer leaves once lush and plump with olive sheen and
whitened veins are discolouring in the fall,
Hanging with fragility on thinning stems as Autumn breezes through
translucent foliage and to the sky viewed open canopy,
For now they're colouring my eyes bursting into golden orange and
flamboyant reds from natures rainbow coat,
But soon the exotic hues will fade and turn a lifeless russet,
Free falling to the leave filled ground, the carpet of despair,
Lured by the seasonal changeling and it's mesmerising swan song,
They'll sadly swirl and crackle as in pain before dancing headlong
into the fires of the night,
Then take a darkened earthy form laying on the Autumnal pyre.
Cherry paddle you carved a few years ago.
Short portages in with good trail, except for
One boggy bit to breed mosquitoes.
Mosquito repellent for said boggy bit.
No motorboats after first portage.
Fair wind and clear sky, except for
One bad day to make the trip real.
One big fish that got away for next year.
Enough fish caught for one supper and one breakfast.
Wild blueberries for pancakes and bannock.
Whippoorwills calling in the evening, followed by.
Wolves howling and Barred Owl calling at night.
One clear night to marvel at stars overhead.
One night with Northern Lights flickering.
One misty morning with loons crying.
A wee dram of Scotch to appreciate the above.
Sufficient bladder capacity to avoid 1:00 a.m. pee.
One new gadget – this year a solar lantern.
Tent and air mattress that don`t leak.
Rain gear that doesn`t leak.
A long portage on return loop, just because.
Years of memories, just because.
7/28/2019
Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Tripping, skipping, lipping Lee. I’ve got a wart hog, you’re on my knee!
Spiking, liking, biking me, I’m going to travel, far as you can see.
Hopping, bopping, cropping, key. Fits in a door knob, bigger than me.
Smacking, tracking, fracking, we. You are a he, I am a she.
Jumping, dumping, lumping, fee. Were you talking bad about me?
Laughing, cracking, graphing, gee. Did you understand how to flee?
Skinning, skipping, hopping, see. Where is that beautiful oak tree?
Leering, learning, licking, he. What kind of woman would I be?
Hunting, bunting, breathing, she. Bear hike cumberdash, knows Mr. Dee.
Shoving, loving, doving, bee. From unknown places, now here with thee.
Wondering, thundering, gee. Leave me now, go get some tea.
Jimmy, Whimmy, Limmy Lee. How much more fun can a rhyming poem be?
Revised: Jan 18, 2019 Contest: Rhyme Battle Xii
Sponsor: Juli-Michelle
twilights habitual reach
trickles soft
arises a shade to cover
drapes the frame to a view
imposes with a lean
lounges in a requiem
perched upon a window brink
fallen sleepless again
gazing the horizon
inspires a simple measure
the shimmer closer
a marvel of visible light
strikes the window blind
touches battered and savage
scatters in a sea of sparks
impressions delight
the agony to defy
the stars fall from my eyes
a push to a step
a plunge in the luminesce
entwined inside a twinkling
twisting, turning ,receding
dwindles for a crushing flux
spills of white
shine of gold
spinning silver bright
dims the darkness cold
soar in the heavens
seek to find
a place to die
no remorse
not a single cry
the smallest things
now hidden inside
this is where
I reside
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan