Best Truss Poems
September meets with warm embrace,
quickening the harvest pace,
though looming autumn can't efface
what's left of summer's arid grace.
The linen hanging on the line
dances with the gust and shine,
while maypops heavy on the vine,
with honeysuckle, twist and twine.
The cool grass tickles naked feet
while weaned lambs in the distance bleat,
and find some shelter from the heat
'neath leafy canopy retreat.
The gentle wind so jaunt'ly plays
and tousles copper hair ablaze
like furious dancing autumn rays
from Mabon's fiery upraise.
Through rustling leaves the sunbeams glint,
I catch the balm of sage and mint,
and every herb and floral scent
blown to me by the wind's dissent.
Breathing deep olfactory prose
until the old red rooster crows
waking me from my repose
and from beneath the tree, I rose.
When as I rose, a red leaf fell,
wisping down its last farewell;
a changing season to foretell;
the coming bounty doth compel.
Cicadas loudly buzz along
and sing their end of summer song,
o'er by the thorny brambles throng;
unto the prairie they belong.
By and by, I turned my mind
back to the farm and daily grind,
collecting eggs where I can find;
inside the henhouse, else behind.
The hens put up a bitter fuss
with feathers flying from the truss,
so I let out an angry cuss.
Still, they obliged; allowed me thus.
Upon it all, I took my leave,
finished with my blast and thieve
much to the angry birds' aggrieve;
giving them a day's reprieve.
Outside the coop, behind the fence,
my greedy boar approached me whence,
grunting for his recompense,
and so two eggs I offered thence.
Then on, as careful as I might
into the farmhouse kitchen white,
delivered up the shelled delight
to feed the morrow's appetite.
Upon the ending of this chore,
I happened back outside once more,
to watch the day fade into lore,
and Luna make her grand encore.
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Categories:
truss, autumn, day, farm, september,
Form:
Rhyme
Everything had gone well and the night was still young,
she had made her intentions quite clear,
home alone we're not walking, the drink was now talking,
and the score was one-nil to the beer.
So we flagged down a cab, made a ten minute trip
hoping none of the neighbours would see,
helped her walk down the drive hoping I wouldn't slip
and then she turned round and came back for me.
We crashed into the hall, and both leaned on the wall
in an effort to regain our breath,
altogether uncertain if this nights exertions
would not end in premature death.
In the bedroom she tore off her blouse and her corset,
her lumbar support and her truss,
left her ankle support on, did she just forget
but I thought I'd not make any fuss.
After I had stripped off with the help of my frame
and rolled onto the bed in the dark,
we lay side by side, now with nothing to hide
and both waited for that certain spark.
As we stared at the ceiling, a terrible feeling
was finally now seeping through,
that the worst of our fears, after all the long years
we'd forgotten what we're supposed to do.
8th August 2018
For contest 'A rattling rhyme', sponsor Nina Parmenter
(*- This is not autobiographical. Yet. )
Categories:
truss, humor, sensual,
Form:
Rhyme
I hope you smile, when you remember me.
Once a fleeting while, a thought of what could be.
I don’t mind the pain, a dulling sense of being.
Omnipotence to gain, yet a constant thought of fleeing.
Staring down the side, an end to the world.
Animosity has died, leaving a story unfurled.
Mass graves of meaning, an era destroyed unsurely.
A solemn act of weaning, a malicious act purely.
Mountains give way, oceans part in calamity.
Though a faith cannot say, there’s the feeling of amity.
An endless fire dies, left by the sick and twisted.
A prediction of lies, herding the weak to the wicked.
I remain once involved, longing for her last look.
A naive puzzle solved, scribbled hastily in a dusty book.
With nothing living behind,the sun shines tempestuously.
Longing to find, an angels breath held boundlessly.
Searching inward to reveal,I’m but just another lost soul.
Time moves forward forgetting to heal, a heart that is no longer whole.
Hearing an existential voice, a shouting that echoes emptiness.
A devastating choice, paving a way to cheerfulness.
I hear an ungodly choir, singing only to me.
A now extinct fire, laying at her effigy.
The girl I remember, promised no one could hurt us.
A subtle December, exposing a melting frozen truss.
A harrowing escape, not deserving of trust.
A grasp of the nape, turning all to dust.
Categories:
truss, depression,
Form:
Rhyme
He must save the world,
He who is one with machines.
We’ve dug a deep hole,
Too deep for men with shovels.
Erosion of soil,
Habitat degradation.
Lack of fresh water,
Just look at California.
Who can save our world?
Engineers that build the truss.
Which can hold our load,
These burdens we self-impose,
Look forward: There’s no way back.
Categories:
truss, earth, encouraging, future, technology,
Form:
Choka
This is not a Sports Limerick ; For Jan's Limerick Contest .
My Limerick will not mention Sports .
Either pitches , golf courses or courts .
'Cept cranky old farts
Who like playing darts
With no fuss in a truss of supports .
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Sorry guys , I just couldn't resist it !
Happy Christmas to all the talented writers here , and to those who passed comment on my "ramblings" . May your pens be sharp/witty and bountiful for 2016
Sean .
Categories:
truss, funny,
Form:
Limerick
From chaos to cosmos
From cosmos to Barbados
From Barbados to Cricket
Fifty odd years
CAT EEG Resurrection
An original me?
If you know
The fundamental difference
Between 1 and 2
First comes the moon
Second comes the yellow
Last come the clouds and bats
They move cannons
Blasting chicken fodders
Canon of polite society
The sun moves
From east to west
From Angels to Demons
12 billion years after
Jesus rose
To shed his blood
Shadows and the lights
A road between, a pass
Tomb and randomizer truss
F=(x, y, z)
Collectively
Mistrustful
Since x=y
Earth exists
And will be
Ghewroucvsf
Chaos?
Right?
1123!
A big number
But small
Translation x
Interpretation y
Transportation z
There is no one like you,
And there is no God but you
Why kill?
The arrows
Earth
And a Japanese welcome
Ängsälvor
Swedish meadow elves
Warped, frame of reference
We are in God
Dead shall come alive again in God
There will be one house, hearth, Lord
11.2 km-secs
Escape velocity
To earth, to earth, to home
Blowing out a candle
Heaven interpretation
Nirvana, a candle
My opponents
Brought an oxymoron
For me, pretty ugly
p
A mirror
q
Lost in translation
Nothing lost in mistranslation
But you
Pigs are social insects
Bees are feral pigs
Cats are ants in a defense colony
Women in default mode
Susan, Mary, Debbie
Shower love on everybody
Bats and beeps
Critter’s wings
Pandora’s pigs
They smashed squirrels
It had happened, to a great extent
With us
If you need fire
Go to a dragon
A female dragon
With all calculations
I could not find
Her hemming and hawing
They died in summer
Drove car in winter
And married in fall
He misspelt 'love'
He was dead fifty tears back
In the act of correcting
Some chimps
Some elephants
Some ants
Let's go out to the field
And then and only then
Cain slew Abel
Note: They are not Haikus by form or convention but they are not null-haikus, non-haikus, proto-haikus, pre-haikus,rogue-haikus,rig-haikus or anything like that. They are haikus by " spirit".
©RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
15th October,2015 19:35:29
Categories:
truss, poetry,
Form:
Haiku
I met Peter for a blind date
His bad habits I REALLY hate
He sat picking his nose
Finding fluff from his toes
Then both of these items he ate!
His mother accompanied us …
She’d sat next to me on the bus
Told me Peter was ‘pure’
And to be doubly sure
She’d tied up his balls in a truss!
Peter was a prolific farter
So our date I deemed a non-starter
The wind from his tush
Came out in a rush
I went home as I’m not a martyr!
Fiction write BUT I did go out with a guy who wanted to bring his mother with us when we went on honeymoon ….needless to say I didn’t marry him!
Baggage Contest
Sponsored By Carolyn Devonshire
Color of gemstone would be green
01~30~17
Categories:
truss, humorous, mother son, relationship,
Form:
Limerick
they said the flower was as golden as a flame
you believed it was tar, color of shame;
for beyond the sun and the skies lived a name
whose great eye flickered eternal fire
that can make one slouch dead on the bier;
for into the dark night shone a solitary star
as that was your accepted belief as dear
of a disintegrated, moldy hope;
that they averred should lob a long rope
and truss them together in stillness
for thus lies huge human bliss,
as the soul turns bright when there is light
from the sun and the stars and the grand eye
and beings go cheery even though at night
for if you are not so surely soon you will die
Categories:
truss, hope, sun,
Form:
Free verse
Go Man, Go with Liz.
That girl's got so much whizz.
Say goodbye to sorrows
as she, borrows, borrows, borrows.
Our nation's fortune waxes
the more she cuts those taxes.
She relishes a fight,
not she some 'Maggie Lite'.
Macron and Putin shake and shudder
Now 'tis Liz who holds the rudder.
Categories:
truss, england, international, political,
Form:
Burlesque
Since it was Sunday in late December
the sun perched softly behind a dark
swirl - and the distant dust
turned the last ray from red to pink
well before the dainty fingers
of her small hands could count to six
The tide was ebbing but left lopsided
lines of foam-beige brine surrounding
crooked batons of driftwood settling
for the evening - in wait of the dawn’s
salty brush and the mermaid’s call
that only the mullet could hear
Sandpipers skipped across the scrawls
where some spirited soul had neatly
spelled the name Luna and etched
a lazy heart in the sand
made barely legible by the suckle
of less than a half moon of sweet Gruyere
Holiday lamps from the shops in the village,
baptized by a light steam, lifted green and blue
watermarks off the horizon toward the mangroves
and left markings of indelible ink where crow’s feet
tried to sleep and halfhearted whelk
nestled as salt in recesses of aged eyes
The scent of the sea was mild
Then again just the thing to suit
The keenness of the cilia that lined
the inside of the only nostril that still behaved.
And though the Mumps had left one ear utterly deaf
I observed the pelican call
This was neither the place nor time to breathe meekly.
A wordless titter throttled my throat
and I asked myself how life might be sounder
Her lily white hand, half covered in sand
touched the truss in my mind.
Smiling out loud my deaf ear could hear
her juddering blood - for she was totally (and wonderfully) blind
Categories:
truss, dream, happiness, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
The Balmy Month of August
During those dog days of summer’s dream-rest,
When crops robust in days, that are hottest.
I sought to find my love peacefully asleep,
Under the shady oak tree canopy.
Luscious gladiolus witnessed my jest,
When I playfully grass tickled her neck.
And she in stupor trusted my nuisance,
In the balmy month of August presence.
“You are incorrigible,” she awoke to speak,
And scratched the itch I had inflicted.
Then kissed my hand to make me blush,
In the balmy month of August hush.
Where youthfulness swarms the lea and stream,
And sultry air nips the nostrils to breathe.
While a kingfisher squats upon the truss,
To sunbathe in the balmy month of August.
***
Note:
The month of August is named after Augustus Caesar, the first Roman emperor (63 BC–14 AD). Gladiolus and the poppy are August’s birth flowers. The gladiolus (aka sword lily or glad) symbolize strength of character, honour, and love, while the poppy symbolizes eternal rest, oblivion, remembrance, and imagination. August babies are considered lucky, born under the protection of August’s birthstone (the vibrant green rare gem peridot), which symbolizes strength and healing powers.
In the Northern Hemisphere, the “Dog Days” of summer are usually very hot and humid, and last from July 3 to August 11. Sirius (aka the Dog Star) in the constellation Canis Major (The Great Dog) rises at the same time.
Categories:
truss, august, romance, summer,
Form:
Idyll (Idyl)
The Moon She glares from the ebon Halls,
As the sea stretches too taste Her galls,
The Candelabra dyed as magick stole its pore,
Starry night blackened as She sinks to the core,
The Sol it shone from the crimson sea
Like an awl stuck in a forsaken tree...
Dead leaves rustle on its rooted lawn,
Wolves grow silent on this lonesome dawn.
As He peaks like a God above us!
Heaven's eye, a sublime-forged truss,
Too the endless sea He soon shall sprawl,
Painting the world, as His darkness shawls.
Then She shimmers... Razor sharp...
Twinkling... As an angel's harp...
Categories:
truss, dark, depression, emo, gothic,
Form:
Sonnet
Breathless, underneath the grove and pink heath,
on endless verdure drunk with its glamour.
Her auburn loose spiral curls swirl beneath
Her shoulders, consumes the fresh scent of her.
Yet my heart's rhythm quick as her name lingers
embrace on soft brim intermingling hues.
Staggering touches' weft, swirls round my fingers
Spinning the fine thread, I choose not to lose.
Under truss folds of satin and night skies,
idyllic rapture in an endless night
Until twilight hours of dawn love arise,
Awake to her wistful smile, morning light.
Two souls amorous profoundly tender
Love eagerly unfurls in its splendor.
11/14/2019
Categories:
truss, love,
Form:
Sonnet
A Covered Bridge Ahead
designed inside the mind of man
to live in longer stead
as voices speak from strong old truss
“a covered bridge ahead”
a roof to keep out wet and cold
walls to ward west wind
one lane stop of courtesy
there to home again
toughened timber, strong sinew
echoes’ memories tread
steal a kiss while underneath
a covered bridge ahead
so many standing still, so strong
what stories they could tell
of animal and then machine
and rivers rain will swell
marvelous enclosure
looming large and red
trim the lantern lights, sit tight
a covered bridge ahead
8/23/17
Categories:
truss, strength,
Form:
Quatrain
I think of my ancestors building you,
Tying and placing tree-trunks, like girders, in queue;
They constructed you, then, with stones,
Twisted, turned, criss-crossed, hung, dangled in zones;
Road bridge, railway bridge, gate bridge, bay bridge,
You resembled longest and tallest mountain ridge;
Clapper, beam, truss, arch… you became suspension,
Cantilever, cable-stay, movable, floating, and high-tension;
How fond designs you are in, today, like miracles,
Magic of marvelous magicians waiting for oracles...
Travelling from place to place, and meeting people,
You build up relationships from valleys to hill steeple;
Though, through you, communication is continually created,
Has communion betwixt hearts clemently elated?
Connecting, interacting, do you construct relations?
Beyond hills and cliffs and national foundation…
Socialization, cultural extension, and environs easy,
You’re sometimes breezy and other sleazy and queasy...
Cognition, senses, sensation, and sensitivity,
Once broken impulsively, aren’t you in vainly pity...???
15 March 202
Categories:
truss, relationship,
Form:
Free verse