TRUMP HAS NEWS FOR YOU
END WAR ONE PAGE MOU
THINK MY MIND JUST BLEW
I am locked in
I'm boxed in
full of fear
no one can hear
I want to escape
but I'm frozen in place
if I could fly
I'd soar to the sky
I cry and cry
wishing to die
when I think of you
I feel brand new
Your love makes me stronger
so I will be here no longer
I have no one to tell
without you it's hell
When your not here
I feel with fear
Your heart is the key
to the box that restrains me
All
is finite
or infinite
the scientists say
Laying the
trap
that supports
their foray
If either
is neither
is or
something more
Entrapping
our freedom
and handcuffed
— unsure
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
bottleneck
gridlock
no go
five miles to the rest stops
tense grumbling
vultures are gathering
there are people out of their cars
screaming incoherently
like zombies
inside an in-car video game
avatars turn helplessly
in small jerky circles
When he was born, for a while,
he was placed in a plastic box;
thereafter as an adult
he moved into many a rented and boxy room.
As he matured, he filled his available space
with the accoutrements
of a hastily gathered together life.
He mostly wanted and pined to be -
a cowboy,
a buckeroo on a far roaming horse
for hunting the far flung.
As he gazed from his boxed in mind
upon the blue yonder
he would sing lonesome songs
knowing only the God
of faraway places would hear him
and not tell.
He knew that if were ever to escape
his own boxed-in existence
he could never
go back then to his four cornered homes,
in the cramped and crowded towns,
for that would surely
hurt his wide-open heart.
Ironically, and not so incidentally,
he had long made a living making
boxes in such places.
Perhaps this alone can be said of him:
That his limited life grew larger
as he filled every box with his hopes,
visions and dreams.
“Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it." Vincent Van Gogh
They tell you ‘Think outside the box’
So, ponder well, pull up your socks
Avoid the danger of clichés,
Don’t overdress with mayonnaise
Explore what lies beyond the rules
Create your own poetic tools
Delve in each corner of the mind
Where inspiration you will find.
Illumination ~ thump of fist:
That’s it! Eureka! What a twist!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Buzzwords Poetry Contest
Hosted by Kim Rodrigues
Placed 2nd
© 18th January, 2022
Lots of boxes that separates our thoughts from emotions,
Where more is placed in one than the other making a paradox,
Best with less boxes for a better perspective of life.
Date: 06/12/2019
Riding the rail cargo
blue sky's virgin eyes
suddenly a ride on the wild side.
Consumed like a passionate love affair
first sneaking around then a box unbarred.
There were several more boxes growing inside
tranquil the rush rolled up on the cool side.
Should I count the length of time?
Should I not forget the first box I tried?
I visited Salem, Newport how cool the breeze.
Marlboro & Winston wasn't for me
another box opened to my foolish feed.
it was Kool for awhile till my mind seemed to freeze.
So many boxes, many more did I breathe.
Next a very slim box, but a journey long
enjoying a mellow, vivacious breeze
in the Virginia mountains high
air so soft admiring a beautiful sky.
After a short while it was time to move on
just like the Old West Maverick was born.
Shoot-in toot-in smoke so thick
general warning the surgeon's threat.
A life of boxes adorned the family tree
It was the 2017 box that finally set me free.
No longer boxed in, living life tobacco free.
Quit smoking January 2018
BOXED LIDS © Haiku +
fear
Don’t enclose me in
Boxes come with four walls sealed
Seals me inside out!
fear
BOXED IN! © HAIKU +
A well fitted ‘box’ closets in
When the lid clamps shut
Capturing me in darkness!
For years, perhaps a decade,
the silver box had lain within a wooden
shell, a box within a box,
a larger casket quieting
memories too painful to revisit;
yet, too precious to throw away.
The bedroom held much more
within four walls, another sheltering box,
another type of tomb.
The box had sat unopened for so very long,
each memory waiting deep within a gloom.
Bedded in a bower of crocheted lace,
it lay, embraced beside a picture frame
of he and she.
A lifted lid, an open box, a silver casket
removed, it’s open now, jewels spill forth,
his gifts to her.
Jade for luck, gold for her ears,
bits of cinnabar blood-red, fans of scented
sandalwood and combs of tortoise
for her hair, emerge.
A decade now locked out of sight,
a box within a box, boxed in—
is what she was—
Time to let go, she thinks,
but, then again, she smiles;
closing the lid of silver bright,
she’ll keep this yet awhile.
Published by Autumn Sound 2013
Boxed In
An unassuming, stone cold Ossuary !
In this place, the bones of my Soul lay .
Them - my spirit will carry
into a void, a black hole - to stay
for all of enternity -
that seems to be - fate for me
a repository
where one may find the story
of all -
who, with loves lost - suffer - no glory
as we await the call .
B. J. "A" 2
February 21st 2012
Boxed in a schizophrenic world
of bipolar attitude, drives
the swing-set up and down
sunny, rainy, switch, repeat
lights on
lights off
tall, small, skinny, fat
ever changing,
Ever Moving
Evolution on the rise
Darwin's birthday today
Darwin laughing in his box
Did he get it right?
hard to tell
on thing is for certain
things are for sure
changing
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