The clowns are crying
And frowns complying
In a world unaware it's dying
All the fears my heart kept
For all the years I spent bereft
Needing some debris clearing of a mind swept
Should there be anything fragile left
In that room, in that mind an ego is kept
With a hippy 60’s vibe, in cadence, in step
And I'm a drummer I am supposed to keep a beat
And when I'm not behind my kit I can still tap my feet
At the hi hat's foot chick you had me.......complete
"I hope I will be as accepting as an Autumn leaf
that looks up at the sky when it's time to die...
graciously thanking God for the gift of my life."
~ by poet
Autumn's leaves begin taking flight
I feel chagrinned, without delight
Are they whispering and sighing?
Purged in death~ their seasonal plight
Crimson faded; sadly dying
There's no whimpering or crying
Not a word uttered, nor tears spilled
With Nature, they are complying
I wonder... if they were free willed
would they prefer to be instilled
with more life if they had the votes?
Covered in snow, would they be chilled?
Perhaps, they'd choose as antidotes,
voices escaping from their throats.
Would they survive the coldest days
wearing snowflakes for Winter coats?
if etiquette demands that we should smile ~
complying, we succumb to ego’s guile
Hello its Moi..Me who sees.? Green sick actions and plans
Do others agree.? Plans to kill some Ostriches a herd four
Hundred strong.' All quite healty..Ceetificated; tested yet
That has been ( submerged? Hidden? My this is surely
Wrong? Must they follow the seven hundred Koalas? That
Green policies eagerly slayed.? Such pointless pagan obcenity (as a helpfull move explained) because they are
Not native I guess.?? These immigrants feathered though.'
Could get the pest?
The Pasitney familiy's pride and joy..Thats what I'm led to
Know.' ( there is a petition ) up snd running now I advise if
You feel like helping thats one way how so.' Maybe you live near? A letter or two? I have taken a few minures just this
Poem; I do..God bless all readers, may all be well.' Will you
Move against this now encroaching, of a shown complying hell.?
dread, rising up while all hope is dying
safety and surety of joy, a soul ignores,
apprehensive, worried, insecurity’s complying
pouring out tension from deathly doors,
bleeding heart whose shadow is petrifying
I tremble before you, my vying emotion
I thought I could be loved with complying emotion
My mirror used to love my sight
there is no more of that undying emotion
Neglect tore at me, scattering me into shards
This whole life of mine is fragmented by self-denying emotion
Love is what you give away
To anything but my trying emotion
If you came back it'd be too late-
You permanently left the scar of dying emotion
The Met* has an exhibit,
Cypress paintings by Van Gogh.
We joined the crowds and went to see
This most amazing show.
Like all the other patrons,
We snapped photos on our phones,
Except for one lone painting,
Which a rich collector owns.
A guard stood right beside it;
He was there to oversee.
“No photos of this painting!”
He repeated frequently.
The owner said he’d lend it
If no cameras were allowed,
A tough condition to enforce
Before a growing crowd.
But people were complying
When they heard the watchman’s plea,
With so many other cypresses
To photograph and see.
*Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC
Cozy crimson sky highlighted
Clouds, in corners, gold ignited
Cranes and cuckoos fly exited
Wherefrom is this ringdove?
Compassion in thoughts, words, and deeds
Complying with kind nature's needs
Cosmos cultivates complex seeds...
Is there, midst, a foxglove?
Calmness carves the clandestine cores
Cardinals commence carefree tours
Calcites and corals hug in scores
Cool breeze is on the move
A solitary child really,
Shotgun under arm,
Wandering the flood plains
On Billy Bulson’s farm,
Hammer uncocked,
Chamber free of charge
Enjoying the sensation
Of wandering at large.
Not shooting for pleasure
But out to fill the pot.
Today we could manage
With just what we’ve got,
Not getting any pleasure
From any single kill
Just hoping it was clean
And done with some skill
It’s an overcast morning
Sun fighting to break through
Grass wet underfoot from
A heavy morning dew.
It’s Saturday today so
I can take my pleasure
Walking these fields
Slowly at my leisure
Weapon broken barrelled
Now I’m back on the road
To ensure I’m complying with
The shooters safety code.
My next walk will be
Just a little bit harder,
Supplies are getting lower
In the family larder.
Any Weekday morning
I’d be in a bit of a rush
Racing up Church Lane
To catch my school bus,
Part of my double life that
Brings me so much joy,
Village country bumpkin and
City Grammar School boy.
Root
self-worth
mild ascend
from earth, to sky,
trip without moving.
world is a high love chord.
in a state of unmatched mirth
Hearts may wander, and life unfolds
break the mold of our unwise nightmare.
bounty of thoughtful sprinkling and motion
shades of sight carried by the divine stream,
filling oneself with fairness and faith.
stand this route in braced quietness
merely choosing for time frame,
brand of our deep psyche,
turn down craving pangs
serve our life part
slenderness
fearless
bliss
thrill
set back
which you could
to board watchful,
making us feel good
whispering in low gasps,
cosmic awareness as mind
complying with the ambition
allows love to rule over our deeds,
Spectroscopic, motionless adventure.
Written: November 28, 2022
Journey without movement Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Screwed up eyes and a huge flush
By one fending off a blush,
After the surest glimpse of Her Crush
With an Eve of enveloping lush;
Something in her beginning to crash
Tony to no more escape a tongue-lash!
Her oval face soon the fullest flush,
At which no sensible man will rush,
It presuming to be about some thrush;
The very thought and idea a slush
Of one booking her a suite plush…
Serena is now complying with a hush
Not demanded by imposing lips
Not will her cost a half brush,
If she her lips speedily unzips,
Out letting her anger gush
Or her tongue steadily slips…
A Serena already edged out by Rival
With some ambition in her arrival.
Once I sat there engaged and waiting
Although it seemed to be, that the rolls were rotating
I discovered the many expectations
Remembering many depressed, idle aspirations
Then I heard an alternate, lonely awaiting,
At this time pillows and tissues were accommodating.
Felt like surviving, but with a deficiency,
Your absence stung and left only a shadow of your proficiency.
It’s all great and all new,
There will be others, but none of them are you.
I know you were leaving, moving on,
From a distance I'm grieving, as though you are gone.
Gone from this world,
Well at least from mine.
Now I feel so broken,
like only half a design.
It is only you that can fix my mind,
But now you’re not, mine has resigned.
Resigned from trying and complying,
Drag my feet along in between my crying.
We long for arms to hug us
when nobody is willing to give up
a minute of their invaluable time;
a consoling embrace, a sympathetic look
can bring much empathy to our tears
and replace what others took
from us having stripped us of all pride,
but not of the unceasing will to rise!
Besides love and its fortitude,
everything else appears small;
we must declare it to all
and it will change hearts,
lifting them to another altitude...
becoming floating balloons!
We learned from mother
those incredible strengths
to confront life's strifes
and they became instincts
protecting our inheritance,
guiding us with prudence;
the older we got, the grayer
we saw the strands of our hair.
Besides love and its fortitude,
glory and power are the aspirations
of plebeians who weren't born to govern others
and feed their ego with conceivable anger:
knocking down everybody standing
in their way, woe to the one rebelling,
not complying with their rules of disdained platitude;
and certainly, death can be a sure thing as his fear.
Panic buying
shoppers vying
People lying
not complying
They’re so greedy
others needy
No chips or bread
kids can’t be fed
There’s no pasta
pure disaster
No toilet rolls
For ‘our souls’
Pushers shovers
think of others!
We have been in lockdown for a little over a week, there was mass panic buying before the actual lockdown was implemented and the shelves were stripped bare as if by locusts in a field, it was 3 days before I was able to get a loaf of bread. Now everything is in stock and I've not had to queue for long with more than 3 people in front of me
01/15/21
Charm the ornament of Love
With magic and complying thoughts
Decorations warn outward
An attraction to a Circus Clown
Red dress with a slit and red lip stick
Clean underwear and a hair cut
All to put on a Circus Show
Yet both underneath looking for love
Attraction is not sight it is heart
All want to attract but few know how
It’s not a night in a bar or making out in a car
Looks only appeal to the eye
Leaving the heart empty
When all that is left is
Charm
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