Oh, by the way,
I’ll be gone in a little while
riding upon the coattail of death;
But I will rise again from the dust
I’ll be back…
So hold my mail!
~09/09/22
~Contest: Bitesize poem#52
~Sponsor: Line Gauthier.
Categories:
coattail, death, life,
Form: Free verse
I float along on top of the balmy, warm, Floridian saltwater
Enjoying the sun, expecting the best of the day
time creeps up slowly, turns my mood
My feelings are not as grand now
I hide inside to console myself
Licking my wounds, feeling hurt and sad
Time shakes me up and spits me out
Smearing me onto a wall in the form of a streak
I have no desire to continue, but time has other plans for me.
I grab onto her coattail when she refuses to leave me alone
We travel the universe; she as a volatile witch with magic spells
I as a black cat, holding on to a sliver of her broom with my nails.
Categories:
coattail, emotions,
Form: Free verse
I just dress
totally
in spirit ...
I never assume
any clothes
i wear ...
I never realize myself
as clothing,
for me i feel as
if I was naked,
which is the best
clothing ...
I don't despise the cold,
but no clothes
I miss ... since
that I am
comfortable, any
shirt wears me ...
Some clothes lead me
cold, I feel sick inside:
Outfit, coattail tuxedo,
ceremonial clothes, do not
have consideration, they disdain
of my short shirts ...
I actually wish I was
able to alter skin
the way some animals,
do
changing colors naturally ...
It would match
most in fashion with me
since I'm not just me,
I am several ...!
Categories:
coattail, allegory, allusion, creation, extended
Form: Prose Poetry
we're born-we live
in
youthful perfumed arrogance-
through folly we hopefully gain
wisdom
we engage- we retreat- we age
that's the nature of things
the parties and gatherings
shrinking
becoming few-far between..
time grasps the coattail of speed
weddings-worry-wakes
we're happy-we grieve
in between
friends come and go-
misunderstandings
falling outs and fade away(s)
days sprint by night the same
children and loves drift away
like mad stars in the night
suddenly we're thrust into...
old age
Where all blessings
and storms coalesce
then come to pass
just two battered birds remain
atop a cold mountain stone-
sated in storms of silence
For them the end
is not frightening
they've lived it all
hand to wrinkled hand
merging hearts with faith
as time becomes mind
mind becomes time
eternity entwined
within their stardust they'll
find
all equations revealed
God is a spiral of time
a constant
in the speed of their light
and always will be-
Categories:
coattail, time,
Form: Free verse
Surrender
Is sinking
Into silence..
Letting go of
That which appears
To grasp our coattails
And clouds the Identity
Of our true Self..
This is not to inquire
Into coattail attachments
But to directly recognize
That in which
We as well as our coattails
Make our stage appearance...
Categories:
coattail, addiction, inspiration, silence,
Form: Blitz
Some don't know her very well-
My sister, Antoinette Marcelle;
A reserved and silent beauty,
To see her is a pleasantry.
Though she is much younger than me,
We two are the youngest of three.
A gift from our father, Marzell,
Is the second name of Antoinette Marcelle.
Summer days are peachy keen,
A flower grows where none has ever been!
And is therefore rarer than rare,
For others are abloom elsewhere.
Antoinette Marcelle, a wishing well!
And birds sing in the dell,
And shadows chase the sound of song,
As they dart and flit along.
With my brother, we are three,
Side by side in destiny;
But youngest of us is Antoinette Marcelle,
The last button on Jacob's coattail.
Note: My late mother drew this picture of Antoinette when she was still a child. She gave me a copy. I have always loved this song by Carly Simon, and that's why I included it, not with any intention of self praise. It's such a loving song about sisters, and it's always made me think of mine. Actually, I'd like to be my younger sister. :0
Categories:
coattail, childhood, family, sister, uplifting,
Form: Rhyme
A young Georgia preacher had two beautiful twin girls.
He was at Lee College, and on top of the world.
He knelt and thanked God for them in his small place,
And he made a plea to God to keep them in His divine grace.
The girls were raised in church and Sunday school,
And tempted the devil like a sparkling jewel.
Shielded from sin and the dark side of life,
He decided to ply them with grief and strife.
If anyone made it to Heaven, the preacher would.
The twins hoped to get in on his coattail if they were good.
Choices were made, and destiny was shaken,
And for a time they both felt lost and forsaken.
But long ago God heard the Preacher’s humble cry,
And it was as if God let out a long, loving sigh.
An angel was assigned to each on the day of their birth,
To protect and give comfort on this cruel earth.
The girls will always be known as the “Preacher’s twins,”
And we are proud to say that Preacher is our next of kin.
It is true that Preacher’s kids are a chosen few,
But you can’t make it to heaven by sitting on the pews.
Categories:
coattail, angel, blessing, encouraging, father,
Form: Narrative
Washington always “thinks inside the box.”
No wonder why we're in this fix we're in.
Their collective thinking stifles or blocks
The country’s progress and provides the spin
To sway the public view to uselessness.
This herd mentality is quite bizarre
To think that all these minds can not express
A single “out of the box" thought thus far.
It’s piteous, at least to me, to see
These coattail hangers we call congressmen-
Inane, inept reps of the bourgeoisie
Wind up screwing us time and time again.
One must conclude this simple inference:
Vote in or vote out makes no difference.
Categories:
coattail, politicaltime,
Form: Sonnet