Tokyo No Chikatetsu
“Godzilla!” the subway sways
bouncing sideways. quiet.
bonsai ears cultivated,
thoroughfare of sentient earplugs.
jolted, jubilant hilarity
“SHH!” teeth hush too loud
drunken, diabolical boredom
“Godzilla!” with more intensity.
brilliant windows, Japanese
contortionists amuse bad
very bad Americans
6/28/2019
Title - Tokyo Subway
You're bored, you say? Let's bring on the bears
and dance them around the ring.
You should learn how to juggle or fly a trapeze
'cause I'm sure bored by YOU, ding-a-ling.
You've nothing to do? Let's bring on the lions
and elephants too. When that's through,
let's watch a human cannonball fly.
(I'll suggest that the human be you.)
Tired of me too? Let's bring on the clowns.
Your smirk I so want to erase.
Let them come out with dogs and on stilts
and then throw a pie in your face!
You're DYING of boredom? Let's bring on snake charmers
and the guy who swallows a sword.
Let's make you the target for throwers of knives.
Facing death, you might not feel so bored!
You need an escape? Let's bring on the freaks,
contortionists, and at last, dear,
people who practice escapology,
who can then help you to disappear.
April 17, 2019
for the Bring On The Dancing Bears Poetry Contest of John Lawless
(with all the many things to do in this world, I hate when someone says,
"I'M BORED" well, unless they are forced to be in a place they don't want to be and they have no pen and paper or technological devices on them!)
Fluffy tailed performers
Chitter chatter among themselves
No one listening, everyone slathering
Juicy gossip
Taking daring fifteen foot leaps and dives
From magnificent heights, barely landing on
Tiny branches.
Flinging themselves with wild abandon
And oodles of faith into the air, flipping and
Swirling. Contortionists.
Sliding up trunks the way others slide down.
Landing with a well-earned acorn in their jaws.
Making love is like a trip to the bakery
Sweet like pastry without the calories
Use spoons over forks and knives
It is like a ship with sails unfurled
Stretched out in the arms of love at sea
It is like nothing else on Earth not even butter
If you have never done it don't worry about others
You can always start with yourself and work up
But never use hammers or cameras in bed
It is easier than riding a bike or horse
A second course is right around the corner
But wear a helmet at night for protection
If you are horny wear a horn
It is best when performed on trampolines
Avoid mixed company and drinks
Contortionists know how to please
Remember, sex is more fun when not twisted
Love making is a truly probiotic experience
According to nutritionists it is delicious
Good for your health and digestive system
When making love use the right tools
It is the formula for success
Safe sex is the rule
the appeasing contortionists....
always distorting
always twisting
in order to fit in
preconceived mold
the appeasing contortionists....
on a constant quest to find
a new way to pacify swings
in mood by going along with
versions of should's and should not's
the appeasing contortionists....
became burdensome to the heart
oppressing the spirit underneath
the massive weight of swings in mood
the appeasing contortionists....
never able to obtain peace
never able to create peace within the
troubled waters that separate
the appeasing contortionists....
I enjoyed wrapping my mind around his words
Stretching my thinking
At times coming unglued
Reaching towards oblivion
While keeping my feet in multiple worlds
Standing on sinking ground
While leaning on granites precious solidity
The substance of imaginations inconsistencies
Tugging on the heart strings of a well played heart
Wondering along the pathway of dreams long held at arms length
Hoping to understand
Taking that backward look while moving forward and upward
Words are his gift
Dropped like psychedelic bombs
Ripping at the fabric of convention
Pain wrapped in sheepskin
Joy pushed through pencils point
Leaving me in awe
Dancing and stretching along
Bouncing against his liquid walls
Till I come out the other side
Understanding
Landing
Blessed
More than I was before
Yet part of myself
Stays behind
Trying to catch my breath
Dedicated to Drake
Submitted to Debbie's Guzzi's Referential Contest
"Closer" By Chris Aechtner reminded me of Drakes Work
and Drakes unusual word combinations thus inspiring
the above piece.
Acrobats and jugglers,
Trapeze, tightrope, hoops.
Horses running ‘round the ring,
Both singly and in groups.
Clowns and lithe contortionists,
Music from the band.
Dogs that climb and leap and prance,
All upon command.
Nothing’s changed in all these years –
It’s still a simple show,
Just like baseball used to be
So many years ago.
Circuses don’t need the flash
Of neon-techno-glitz.
When that happens, I, for one,
Will have to call it quits.
‘Til that day, I’ll ooh and ahh
At walkers on the wire.
A wooden bench, a canvas tent
Is all that I require.