tell me blue tell me
something that's out I had said
told was true by you
sticks and stones can break
my bones but names will never
hurt ~ my sticks and stones
there are three things that
can't be hid ~ sun moon truth and
your fat ~ make it four
bite the bullet till
you touch lead that will push you
through all your hardships
cry over spilt milk
that in time will sour like your
lamenting facade
bird in hands better
than two in the bush ~ now is
here ~ future is not
do to others that
you'd want them do to you ~ be
good~ if not then run
every cloud has a
silver ring ~ tarnish times be
polished shine next time
a dime a dozen
eighteen hundreds ~ a dime cost
most goods seldom rare
'O Henry Porter
wrote cut the mustard ~ soldiers
pass muster ranks up
hold your horses steads
the whipped horseback that's headstrong
~ patience ease the reins
(This is an old poem of mine reposted with some modifcations )
I hammered some words
Out from the quarry of my brain
They fell around in shards;
Some like boulders,
Some like rocks and rubble
I picked them up one by one.
Block on block, I piled them up
Thinking I could build a ‘pleasure dome’
But,
When it was time for the workman
To marvel over the beauty and wonder
Of his dream creation
His masonry tumbled down
Like sand castles built
By little hands on sea strands
Or dunes of quicksand sliding down
I have lost count of the times,
This has happened before.
Now that I stay resigned,
Amid a heap of debris
Is there any use feeling remorse?
Like Nero fiddling on his harp
When Rome was burning
I sit on this pile of wreck
Piping my thoughts away.
In the cusp between victory and defeat
I have charted my future action plan
Decided not to cry over spilt milk
But to start over and continue my work
Till I can erect a ‘pleasure dome’ of words
As our famed poet Coleridge did!
Nov. 25. 2022
Just Before Release Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Unseeking Seeker
If you cry over spilt milk,
Wipe your tears with cloth of silk.
The demise of tears and fears fraternizes no frown
From my heart honed to handle an emphatic event
That stresses the face and pace of concerns in my town.
Tame any dame who claims to blame Bloom Brown
For infusions and profusions that signal an ingenious intent
Cos the demise of tears and fears fraternizes no frown.
Why cry over spilt milk when services of a clown
At little cost tames tiffs and whiffs in an incident
That dresses the face and pace of concerns in my town.
Conciliation and reconciliation compact the crown
Primed to decline and redefine a malcontent
Cos the demise of tears and fears fraternizes no frown.
Differences coupled with indifference can’t drown
Enthusiasm towards closing ranks to set a precedent
That stresses the face and pace of concerns in my town.
In the end, I conclude it doesn’t pay to wear a gloom gown
Stitched and bleached to imprint on my heart a devil dent
Cos the demise of tears and fears fraternizes no frown
That stresses the face and pace of concerns in my town.
PLAYING WITH CLICHÉS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
recycle plastics... what goes around comes around
~~
thirty-six twenty-four thirty-six... fit as a fiddle
~~
where there's muck there's money... all that glitters isn't gold
~~
see the facts... use a mirror... don’t get your knickers in a twist
~~
speak out or... has the cat got your tongue...
~~
history... good or bad... only time will tell
~~
true love... every cloud has a silver lining
~~
how times have changed but.. opposites will always attract...
~~
mother nature begs... recycle... don’t cry over spilt milk
~~
who told that lie... all is fair in love and war
~~
don't whisper... speak up or shut up
~~
be in it to win it... a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush
~~
recycle... live long and prosper
~~
at weddings... many a true word spoke in jest... i do...
~~
if only... speak now or forever hold your peace
~~
playing with words... isn't that a cliché...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inspired by Silent One's challenge Monoku #5 cliché
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/contests/monoku_5_cliche_11070#MemberContestDescription
8/13/17
Occasionally cooked with a kitchen timer
Often bought and drank budweiser
Sometimes worked with an atomiser
Amid elevations that were lower or higher
Always had much more than heart
From the start
Being smart
Becoming familiar with tools, items and parts
In the light or dark
Won't always be as smooth as silk
Move on, stop with the guilt
No reason to cry over spilt milk
The scales shall balance and tilt
Keep training with or without a sword and hilt
Continuing to be invovled in structures being soundly built
Near and far from silt
As well as flowers doing well or beginning to wilt
I will let my problems freely expand never complain over things that cannot be answered to an compliant thats so ignorant to its availability when the reason is so irrelevant to my results of human nature but can be explain in admiration and evaporated and cleaned up by my postive analyst standpoint that I will overcome promissory to my vision thats half blurred in which I may not see nor people that may notice me to a complete way of there simply with a positive connection that relies in me all me in all variations in which version me only but try to conduct myself properly instead of clumsy balanced in how to withholding weight or leverage to keep me leveled and never fall too deep in a milk mishap and try to caution from slipping into an major accident until everything comes to clear to clear eyes viewed when everyone can see the accident b4 it happens and occur for them to see in a rush b4 everything comes clear from evaporated of spilt milk accident of problems that may affect me so seriously to an creed of a compliant of no clarity support just an non exist problem that well overcomed so lively.
The feeling of getting rocked for the first time is
like losing your virginity. How I rise from the producers
decides if I like going down or hate getting up.
Yeah, they saw it. Eyes on me. The ubiquitous
air is still hear. My ascetic body
still functions on this field of men.
Fighting for friends, flying around full speed.
Go! Go! Go! Epitomizes our support.
The brain yells stop, but the heart whispers fight.
Hard work minus teamwork equals intact pants.
Hard work plus teamwork squared equals a smile.
Perspiration in the eye, never felt better.
The weakest link of our chain better power up
because he who pays the piper will call this tune.
Turns out, I couldn’t cry over spilt milk, if it didn’t spill.
As celebratory we were, we endeavor to looked opportunity
in the eye and purloin her work clothes,
before she is out of sight and out of mind
Why cry over spilt milk?
I'm just glad it wasn't Jack Daniel's