Breakneck Poems

Mourning Reflection

I picked up eclipse glasses, crumpled on the street
It caused the pause reflection brings when unlike minds should meet

With no regard we oft discard the fashion of the day
No cosmologic mirror, we hasten on our way

Same time the rhyme that is the pond, ornithologic splendor
Graced the sky there in my eye, sweet nature as its sender

Earlier a chance encounter prompted thoughts of scale
As I dodged a mounted fender fellow and lived to tell the tale

Perhaps because the Universe expands beyond our ken
We can't escape the breakneck pace that plagues the mass of men

I'm thankful now, at this remove, I did not join the glass
And stopped to think…  and it's the key…  to not let this thought pass

Opus 2025 Night Silences

two singular heartbeats
emergent with fluttering exhalations 
a tiny speck of time and temperature 
rushing nowhere beside falcons
pausing breakneck together
i hear her wet whispers kissing
caressing deep lidless eyes
my heart knows the latitudes
understands the lay of the land
bestows a feast of electric night
giving flowers of touchings
receiving tongues of fire
inside this temple of ancient desire
emergent with breathless silences
two singular heartbeats

I thought he was going to eat me

I knew that Buddy would be the first dog to welcome Beau into our family.
Buddy is enormous at a hundred and sixteen pounds; he looks like a pony.
Galloping at you at breakneck speed; but he is a gentle giant.
His face has the look of a German shepherd, husky and wolf.
He has amber eyes that see through your soul; he is docile and sweet.
His girth, weight and size of his head terrify those who do not know him.
My sister who is afraid of dogs said “I thought he was going to eat me.”
Actually, he jumped on the recliner and spun his head back and forth
Watching us with happy glee – two mommies! We are identical twins.

Iberian Cross-Roads

We drive breakneck over hot roads.
Churches, big as cathedrals, rocket
from pocket villages.
Castillo's cast their campanile on the baking earth.

The Great Mosque of Cordoba,
the green Alhambra shades us
through a preaching dust.

The Giralda; its Christianized minaret
stretched like a tourists neck,
and above the Papal parapets,
a banished Allah.

The holy places have hollow guts,
their tubes are wrapped
around a torso, like alien spaceships.
One edifice dwarfs another
until awe sinks to its knees
attired in the black mufti
of old peasant women.

We are traveling fast now.
Nave and transept are our crossroads.
Basilica and sacellum our roadside naps.

The car parallel parks itself
beside every altar and shrine,
it's engine running,
as we chase God's works down,
ticking off only ourselves.

Madcap Victorian Horsewomen

Those madcap Victorian horsewomen were super confident
Silly when you realize they were riding at breakneck speeds, sidesaddle
In those day a woman did not know it was okay to wear pants.
The closest thing she could be caught alive in would be pantaloons.
I am staring at the screen years later, wondering ….
Do they break their tailbones when they fall off?
Or do their bustles serve as a landing pillow?

I Wait For the Laughter

Where does laughter go
when it's done?
What becomes of joyful sounds
that are spun?

Do those waves fly off
and tarry somewhere,
to another dimension,
or just hang in midair?

Does that energy know
when there's someone in need?
Does it rush down to save them
at breakneck speed?

'I needed that laugh'
I will hear someone say
as their soul is replenished
to get through one more day

If such is the case,
and I could be wrong,
then it seems it's been tarrying
for far too long

The demand is so great
but the workers are few
and spread out so thin
it takes time to get through

As I scan the horizon
and search the skies
for something familiar
with tearful eyes

And a heart that is heavy
from all that I see
I wait for the laughter
to come back to me


© Mike Wise
3-20-23

Cracked

Cracked often reminds me of pecan nuts.
Cracked also reminds me of earthquake scars.
Mostly cracked reminds me of Jerry Butts
Who loved driving Italian racing cars.

When he drove, Jerry often munched cashews,
While wildly weaving down roads he would choose.
Jerry switched cashews for sunflower seeds.
Spitting split shells out at a breakneck pace,

Once some flew back and lashed his bearded face.
With shells dancing in his eyes, he raced on.
That was the last time Butts cracked any nuts.
His sports car cracked on a fresh earthquake scar.

Death

And when the end comes
it comes very fast indeed 
Not always in slow motion 
but at breakneck speed 
Said the Woodpecker to the 
larva, I kill Swiftly to feed! 
But you’re just a Cuckoo
see how, your head bleeds
No wait! it’s a Hawk talon 
TWIST SNAP! When Crowing 
one should pay more heed

Writing Challenge - D Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
#10 death 
09/02/23

The Workshops of Nirvana

I’m the Seller of Rainbows
Purveyor of such Delights
Adding joy and pleasure to
So many Rituals and Rites.
Sliding through the portals 
In connected webs of space
Physically always staying
In the very same place.

Just changing perceptions 
Of the merged  multiverse
Carrying skeins of Rainbows
In states many and diverse.
Never truly certain which
Would be  the preferred form
In this current version 
Of any perceived norm.

Aurals and Orals, Tangibles, 
And the latest sensory flows
All to be added to traditional 
Seven coloured visual shows
Keeping all the Workshops  
Working at a breakneck speed
To fulfil the mass of orders that
Help to meet the constant need

For the  Rainbows of Nirvana
That bring delight and pleasure
To the many forms of beings 
To their many  forms of leisure.
The Workshops of Nirvana
In such a convenient place
At the Centre of the Universe,
Confluence of Time and Space.

Hours

Some hours race by at breakneck speed,
So fast they’re almost blurry,
As if, like fire trucks on call,
They’re in the biggest hurry.

While other hours move like snails
Or just like taffy, stretching,
Until we’re forced to check the clock
To try to keep from kvetching.*

Still, time is not in our control.
We lack the needed powers
To change the pace as minutes
Dash or crawl and turn to hours.

*complaining

In the Realm of Poppycock

In the realm of poppycock sidewalks sing
When stepping on melodies in the cracks,
You’ll enjoy the height of the smallest thing
The exotic ponies with pink-striped backs.
Beware the cows returning from the moon
Loving brown bears will cuddle with you,
The sweetest hymn is the song of the loon,
For everything here is an imagination zoo.
Hills are covered with marshmallow plants
Mules dance in the street just for sheer fun
Both boys and girls wear polka-dotted pants,
And all the richest folks have money none.
The bakers bake cookies at breakneck speed
While trains run on tracks made of candy,
No one, not a single person ever has a need
All who live here think everything’s dandy!
In Poppycock you can believe what you hear
For fact and fancy are all mixed together,
Since every hour the clock chimes a cheer
And all is perfect …  even the weather. 

Written July 28, 2022

Their Promises Are Seated On the Peak

How high their ship…she’s sitting on the waves.
Bob-stopped at top of ferris wheel. Their might,
a flood about their feet - they dare not breathe.
The teeter-tottering might sink them quick.

Her formerly unbalanced stance, so drunk.
The utter-wave that drives her down and up.
The shipmates think of home and more so then.
Ship ascends Everest to bump the sky.

What hell! What depths! The slide at breakneck speed.
The fear! Except the Lord does intercede…
The tears they weep on their way down. The begs
begin, to promise God all sorts of things.

Their promises are seated on the peak.
And will they speak of them again? Will death
or life relieve their fears?  Forgotten deals -
vows read as each one stands before the King.

5/31/2022

Your Sweet Kisses Consoled

Time after time your sweet kisses consoled
When my desperate heart cried out in fear,
My dear, it was you who were brave and bold
While I was so convinced the end was near.

With your closeness, your warmest embracing
Gave hope during fearful anxiety,
My heart would be at breakneck speed racing
While you maintained the right propriety.

You were constantly my inner presence
When the hurt overwhelmed my self-esteem
Maintaining for me essential essence
You were always there--my balancing beam.

Your love cannot be more expressed, extolled,
Time after time your sweet kisses consoled. 

SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written May 1, 2022
Submitted to “Orphan Sonnet” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Syllables verified by HMS; Rhymes by RhymeZone

The Blinding Eye of Desire

The Blinding Eye Of Desire




                              We begin at a breakneck speed and a 

                              hectic pace



                              Toward the finish line yearning to win

                              each pivotal race



                              Ambitions could prevail over adversity

                              beneath skies or beyond



                              Yet urging fate to hand the prize is like

                              mining gold from a grain of sand








Penned: 1/6/2022
             5:54 p.m.
             Lake Worth
             Florida USA

Ignorance Roars In Turmoil

We are shaped from silence.
I am struck by life's upheaval loudness,
We've been sucked into the abyss.
The deterrents proceed to extensiveness.
We're still utterly annihilated and witless.

Floundering about in a foreign land.
Everything happens at a breakneck pace band.
As well as ferocious gusts from the past stand.
Our leading spirits are being ruffled.
I'm puzzled whether they were on guard.

In their gleaming towers, the affluent rare.
For all the immortal soldiers drear
Whatever it scarcely in similar barre
For all the awe-inspiring masses dare
As time goes on, it becomes less austere.

Not in the slightest is it secure to leave?
Unless a dreadful catastrophe deceives.


Written: November 30, 2021

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