He sat in the street, reaching out for support.
He did not shout or sing or beg.
He looked and smiled and shivered,
shaking in his cardboard bed.
The snow came down, December time,
cascading softly through the air.
But winter’s chill brings ringing bells—
no space for him, no mercy there.
No warmth tonight, no place to go,
the shutters down, the bitter bite.
He pulled his coat, so thin and worn,
and yearned for times before the scorn.
On Christmas Day, he sat stock still,
as voices bustled down the street.
A world alive with cheer and song,
but none could hear his slowing beat.
And when they came to wish him well,
to toss a coin, to share some cheer,
he sat stock still—his breath was gone.
His final beat.
His final beat.
His final beat.
Categories:
bustled, character, christmas, death, humanity,
Form: Narrative
The moon raced ahead of us,
like a thirsty dog.
Mama wet her knickers earlier that day,
she yelled at everyone,
for she didn't see it coming.
Later, we teenagers latch-keyed in,
the empty house begged us to come together,
passion leached through porous walls,
brazen desires made Hummel figures,
hide their faces.
The porch light danced,
in the center of a moth fandango,
our ears were listening to the road,
our shadows acting out,
turning to flesh
before we could stop them.
We were both inside the moon now.
Coyote calls trembled our young knees,
as we pledged to be forever this drunk
on each other.
When parents showed up
I was laying on the bed
cocooned in an afterglow,
and ‘my girl’ had slipped away,
yet we were both tied,
to the center of a magical moon.
Mama bustled around the house
like a Nile queen
singing her ***** little songs
that only hoot owls heeded.
Dad sipped a late cold one,
and remembered, with a grunt,
that tomorrow was still only Wednesday.
By then the moon had got so big
that I thought it might turn us all
into a fictional story,
one told between ageing astronauts.
Categories:
bustled, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A dense dusk slots
in-between two tall buildings.
Just moments ago
the busy road was in full flight
now it growls low like a wounded beast
we hardly can hear it.
When dark descends like this
dragging an intangible gravity of loss
down upon us
we all get folded inwards.
Just moments ago the city
bustled along
blinking like a pinball machine
now only an electric fizz
offer us its neon-lit sight.
This eventide was crushing
it rolled up the dying day before it.
I take your hand in mine
lead you to a room behind a room
where people drink red wine and recite poetry
about the light and the dark.
Your lips look bruised
as if the crumpling daylight
had painted them
this muted shade of sorrow.
Categories:
bustled, poetry,
Form: Free verse
While on The Guy battled
Concerned watchers rattled:
Thrice out of race hustled
And around he’d bustled…
Now, financial muscle
He’s got for the tussle:
One that bulges parcel
And could build him castle…
Quest for lands are still hot
Like new mothers eye cot
And chefs or cooks a pot;
“It’s Ten Million or not:
You don’t have it just rot”
A less amount, no slot
And he’s saved quite a lot
To ably buy a plot
People see and they trot…
Prove he shall what he’s got
To with Greats discuss “What:
7:00 am on the dot.
Categories:
bustled, confidence, conflict, courage, money,
Form: Rhyme
It was kind of late,
the town had gone to sleep
while some had woke up real early.
Nothing bustled, nothing moved quickly,
the moon had faded into a dark graveyard.
Micky's was open,
blue and yellow neon
fizzed static in the dewy dark.
She was not young
but she looked good in cowboy boots.
He had not shaved
but he looked almost sober
in his stained denim shirt.
They both held a bottle of JD
at the cash-out counter.
However, cupid was out of luck
for they wanted a drink
more than each other.
Still and all,
they would meet again
under a new sleepwalking star,
both holding handcuffed hands,
drunk at the back
of a cops patrol car.
Categories:
bustled, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Merriment has bustled ever so brightly.
You are one who was taken so timely.
Lost inside the strains of skies.
Over above is where you are.
Vast and lonesome, so very far.
Eternally so, until we are one.
Bite Size Poem no.5 Poetry Contest
Categories:
bustled, death, loneliness, longing, lost
Form: Rhyme
An innocent game of release
made dirty by a devious trick
devised by Sean’s older brother, Brandon.
“Guys, we give up!”
he yelled.
The treeline bustled with life
as kids emerged from the woods;
Cubscouts crawled from the underbrush--
“Just kidding!”
he added as he tagged
the bewildered players
against their protests.
Categories:
bustled, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Free verse
My dream included a solidified me.
I was hard like an oak from stern to stem.
My favorite tall tree had nothing on me.
Immobile, I felt the wind in my hair.
My limbs were lithe, light, and bare.
A lumberjack cut a bit of me down,
Gave my branches a soak,
Tamed me into a table and chair,
I was oak solid, folks.
Bustled into the back of a van,
Delivered to religious fan,
A solidified me, made into something useful.
We pray every Sunday, and on weekdays too.
Part of me in the forest, worshipping with birds.
The other part in a kitchen, with a couple of nerds.
My dream included a solidified me.
I was as solid as I will ever be.
Categories:
bustled, dream,
Form: Rhyme
expecta O' Greta great dep·re·depta
snitchie fumes crud
Senate weaselin' words
mosaic-speak fungals thrall-truth up your nostrils
unmasked civil·a·tons
square crotch per smile
poeta decepta leaks India unda bear
panda wear
fund a hole: Pandora Pumps!
child wonda nuf crumbles Vatican busts
spangled in clown clothes
bustled to dust
depravity's cavities coupes enchiladas
inflicting inflections on cartoon erections
so verge on my bliss-vittles "goose tinge" me plights
please translate dos colander's humanoid blights
thy nuclear nickel-sickle pickles delight
or do like Shrub junior said- just
go £ucking shop.
___________________
Notes:
1. Two declarations America might consider.
i. Declare Washington D.C. a separate country and...
ii. Declare war on it.
Categories:
bustled, america, parody, patriotic, political,
Form: Free verse
Walking the riverside, the rain stopped, the sun reappeared.
Weaving thru the weeds came the dragonfly.
A trembling shimmer of gauzy wings.
Darting electric blues,greens and bronze
In a crazy zig-zag dance.
Droplets clung to rain-splashed leaves.
A mosaic of life-nature's multitude.
The dragonfly bustled with fingertip precision.
Gathering fragments of gold,
It sped away,
A life in a day!
Categories:
bustled, beautiful, nature, river, sun,
Form: Free verse
Behold the bounty
Of berserking bugs,
Whilst Barely not blinded
By the their bustled busts.
I, Bringer of Beatles,
Biting abroad,
Burrowing deep,
Biting a broad,
Bolder than brave,
But braver than most,
Have been this way long,
But no need to boast,
I am the scurrying,
blurring blank line
That will band the bugs
With all of mankind.
I am the blackest,
Most burnt, but my bite
Will bid you a seething
Most blatant of blights.
Bring now your bosom,
Bend when I bark,
Then I will chew some;
Now bleed from your arc.
Bringer of beatles,
Bestower of feasts,
I am the bender,
Bartender of beasts.
Bringer of blankness,
Be still while I blotch
All of your memories,
Render you lost.
It is my duty,
This beauty of steeples,
All being brought down
By bounties of beatles.
Categories:
bustled, change, dark, death, earth,
Form: Alliteration
Your with me when the sun steals me from my sleep...
Your with me through every bustled morning with your grandchildren at my side...
Your with me through the tears, sometimes you bring them too...
Your with me through full belly laughs, most at stories of you...
You were with me in life, and still so in death....
Love you dad >
Dedicated Robert Thomas Madden....
Categories:
bustled, bereavement, dad, daughter, death,
Form: ABC
It was decades ago,
When my two eyes were young,
That they savored the Tiergarten
And Kurfurstendamm—
That avenue, tree-lined,
With Berliners, it bustled—
And Tempelhof airport,
Where pilots, undaunted,
Overflew the blockade;
And the river Spree flowed
Through the heart of the city
And, there, in the East
Rose the Brandenburg Gate
Though, always, these eyes,
Spurred on by intrigue,
Wandered their way
To monuments marking
Where tyranny triumphed
And Germans had vanquished,
Vanquished pursuing
The hope of their freedom—
Yes, Berlin I once saw
And, still, to this day,
What affected me most
Was the scar of
The Wall.
October 25, 2016
The Wall poetry contest
Anthony Slausen
Categories:
bustled, freedom,
Form: Free verse
>>>
cavorted about as elfin brides
under a saffron maple tree^^^^
Dressed in prism-hued layers
of chiffon in ethereal shimmers
and delicate silken gossamers
They having their group wedding in the fall
And fairy folk bustled about all round
as flimsy and flighty as they could be
while henna leaves fell upon the brides,
>>>>> in ceremonial nuptial
An autumn's breezy ritual>>>Branches denuded
Yet autumn's august>>>
in honey fallen maple leaves as well
>>>>Playing hide'n' seek
with browny brownie grooms
also camouflaged in the heap...>>>
( beautiful quote 7)
Categories:
bustled, autumn, fairy, wedding,
Form: Blank verse
My literal description:
He watched her among the beech trees,
picking up garden litter, buds, twigs and
petals, fallen-flora;
now advanced in years,
her blue-veined hands shook with
age, gout made her stumble, on the grass.
My poem:
Her likeness, arboreal, floated to his sense,
among the canopies's dross;
she, bustled by age, let nature’s corruption
break through, showing rivers of sea, on
languid limbs: and here on forest’s carpet,
Atlas, in cruel pain, tipped his globe and fell.
Written for I’Lyezette contest 6/7/15.
Categories:
bustled, age,
Form: Verse
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