Tigers in the tall grass.
Bruins in the buckwheat.
Sirens, sing of sassafras!
Eagles, time to eat...
Linger, O my looking-glass...
Red run in reply.
Languid liquor, poison gas!
Death, glance at me sly...
Frankincense burned on the tomb?
Ashes, coat the walls.
Belladonna, how you bloom!
Funeral, how ye palls!
Pyramid, best to get rid?
Gold on rim, crater?
Hell and Heaven, hid or bid?
Only if you're sure!
Wind, over the atolls fly!
Cold as coffee fields!
O my Spartans, don't be shy!
Win or on thy shields!
Forbidden City, thy birth?
Life, what are you worth?
Decency, dismay, thy dearth!
Estuary? Firth!
Honed like blades of iron!
Shining in the air!
O chessmasters, sac the pawn!
Tortoise, eat the hare!
Heaven and Hell, apply. When?
Beginning again!
Coyote, doth fear the hen?
One day out of ten...
Categories:
bruins, corruption,
Form: Rhyme
Who would’ve thought that we would be eating stimulus for breakfast, 1200 dollars, no more, no less. Why couldn’t the stimulus be for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Again we see that the government is still in control, for they are still the winner. Stimulus taste better with some change. It’s time to past the new bill and make a change. Make the world a better place. Tell the Illuminati what you really want to their face. Let’s all have a stimulus reunion and have some cheer leaders cheer like the UCLA bruins. Taking a stand for the protesting clan; holding up these signs because they are our biggest fan. Stimulus verses the people. Let’s hold hands with the Stimulus so they can help pay our rent and be equal. Stimulus America, 2020!
Categories:
bruins, america, freedom, money, people,
Form: Rhyme
My quest to walk across the nation,
like vaunted pioneers of old,
started in Maine six months ago,
post vlogs of my progress for folks.
I am deep in Wyoming now,
and I’m on my third pair of shoes,
brown grass beneath, cropped by cattle,
in front the prairie meets its end.
It’s a spread of foot-hills at first,
low and slashed by gullies, canyons,
their slopes half-forest, half-open,
perfect space for elk to graze.
Cannot see any up there now,
though a few buzzards wheel about,
behind them loom big, granite waves,
frozen forever into peaks.
Not the first to just stand and stare,
nor am I the last, I suspect.
There are goats up there, snowy white,
and grizzled bruins, huge and brown.
Mulies with their tall, forked antlers,
and charging, spiral-horned sheep,
darting amidst blazes of aspen,
near soldier-strait ponderosas…
Snow still clings on, up near the crests,
I don’t think it will ever leave.
Nearby, a decrepit wagon,
old wood bleached by endless sun.
Is it a relic of the past?
Or decoration of today?
Who knows, but its path ended here,
mine continues, right through the peaks.
Categories:
bruins, animal, appreciation, beauty, imagery,
Form: Blank verse
you flow so aesthetic Sea Wolf
may be we dont know each others names
playing tricks on punks, all just games
undulate my waves and shoot down my dreams to the flames
ive been in this too long man
all those skeleton keys
remaining up your sleeves
leaving many in deceit
only cause grief, never relief, just tenacious belief
its was phony from the get-go man
im an average citizen
im an average citizen
now the walls are steel, concrete-plastered ruins
remember when people like me cheered for the Bruins?
Categories:
bruins, dark,
Form: Free verse
Providence Bruins
since Boston's out of the race
Let's go Providence
Categories:
bruins, hockey,
Form: Senryu
Deep down something hurts
Deep down something aches
Deep down something cries
Deep down something dies
Trying to uncage the beast
To honour the deceased
With the vain attempt
The cover remains kempt
The frosted hollow stone
The icy cold bone
The flawless mask
The unmarred facade
The soul tries to cry
Just a futile try
But then the night arrived
And it was all kept aside
With a deafening shriek
The beast set free
Eyes turning red
The carcass lay on the bed
Demons underneath
Took over the feast
They danced all night
A dreadful sight
The soul tried to cry
Just a futile try
The demons were awakened
But the gala had to end
Because the sun came up
The soul now corrupt
Was returned to the corpse
As time collapses and space warps
The decaying ruins
Forgot all about the fairy tail bruins
Every morning the hollow shell roams around
Every night demons emerge from the ground
The soul tries to cry
Just a futile try
Categories:
bruins, conflict, loneliness, lost,
Form: ABC
It must have been around 1967, a Christmas that
feels like yesterday. Funny thing though, I don’t
remember unwrapping it, I don’t remember jumping
for joy, but I’m certain I did. With five children we
didn’t think of asking Santa for more than one gift.
Oh, there were always more gifts under the tree,
ones from our grandparents and of course mom
and dad. But that one, the one you wished for
was never knitted socks or mitts or anything
you wear, it was something special like
a toy or game. This one year the gift of all gifts
came to me. We always visited relatives and
good friends and I remember taking it with me.
I see it in my hands as I sat with my very own
transistor radio in the quiet corner listening to
the Boston Bruins playing hockey with my
hero number 4, Bobby Orr. I had a ten year old
girly crush on him and I was in heaven that night
every time the announcer said his name. Many
Christmases have come and gone since then, but
the memories of that radio with an antenna and
two turning knobs I will never forget.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.30.2014
Contest: Hush of Christmas Past
1st
Categories:
bruins, childhood, christmas, emotions, happy,
Form: Free verse