Double Back Poems | Examples

Antsy

An ant was dragging an insect, 
At least 3 times its size.
Though desiccated, still it seemed
Like quite a lucky prize.

I watched its steady progress -
It would heave a bit and stop,
Hurry forth without its burden, 
Double back where it did drop.

Other ants passed by, ignoring
All the effort being made,
On their journeys through the grass
As part of some unknown crusade.

Just like humans, who don’t notice
Someone doing all the work 
While they play at being busy
Since it’s easier to shirk.

'soul Sessions'

Some day
One day
How about today? 

Let all that is you
Dance to the rhythm of your soul

Indulge in some soul sessions
Whatever they might be
Acknowledge who you are in this moment
Pretty, afraid or even anxious
About anything and everything

Don't double back on what you feel 
There is enough doubt going around
Try not to put on the dress of insecurity today 

Give yourself that downtime 
To recoup - leave indecision at the door

©wilmaneels
©07062020

Tale of Too Hollywood

Tale of too Hollywood

Two pages into the Twilight.
No lies, cannot see the light,
I realise the lies salivating on Pennywise's venomous lips.
Dust to dust, friends can become enemies as much as they are family.

Two cigarettes into the young night that seduced James Dean.
A sip of red wine, double back to a night in Paris with Naomi Campbell.
We all see, this is a world that questions reality or should l say vanity?

Two cities, two nights of no sleep counting sheep, sipping tea with the Queen and blowing weed.
This is the age of dreaming today, slumbering in the next life....

Walked a Mile

She stopped her car and walked a mile
Finding a place familiar but new
Shortest jog through the mist and fog
Reminds her of a younger day when cares of life did not exist, as if they ever had to

Finest items anywhere, selection grand
Some old some new, but all the quality transcending time itself

She gathered a basket of all that spoke of her
By thought alone to carry home
Why return when all of meaning surrounds her?  

She was upset to know she could not stay
and carry-on among this place, the cost to remain too high
Around she must return and continue on her way

She bundled as many memories as she could
To double back the mile away, rejoin the forlorn car
and continue on her way again

But since that day the story goes out to all whom she knows
to quickly recount that fateful morn she choose to stop the car
and found the special place one mile way

Each time to touch a memory
renews her hope to travel on
and once again encounter such a lovely place to stay

Nature - a Tough Task Master

They swarm from a hole in the ground
Some running left some right
Some straight ahead others double back

They charge they bustle chaotically frantically
Can this be their last day?
Is there a plan? Maybe it’s just a panic attack 

The mayhem continues the bustle unabated
They cover the available land
Is that the plan? I can’t see it

Each having found their spot they settle
They shuffle they shuffle
Side to side moving but the slightest bit

They begin to stir agitated agitated
They surge forward a maddened army
Renting the air with a blood curdling battle cry

Toot Toot
It’s on time today
Off to work now, bye!

July 5 2019
Tri-Con
Emile Pinet

The Escapee

As time goes by, the anguish shall abate.
To double back my trail, to hide, to wait
for an unwelcome love to go away.

Long distances can quench the wanderlust,
but lust of wonder. Wonder is a must,
but lust is never worth its outlay.

I call upon you both, time and space,
to help the escapee, summon the ghost
of common sense, the coldest and the most
atrocious words to flee from love's embrace.

My dear poems, stories and essays,
forgive the poet: he was too engrossed
in wonder to remember Robert Frost
who said: "The muse is cold, when hearts ablaze".

Et In Arcadia Ego

Oh, that's it, Keko. Pass through. Go ahead. 
Just walk across my books without a glance, 
with all that arrogant insousiance 
of yours, encoded in that languid tread. 

No, never mind that I've been up all night 
engrossed in them. What now? So why the pause? 
Ah, now I see. You might retract your claws 
in expectation of a fondle-fight. 

What must it be, to live a life by whim, 
to eat, to sleep, to gambol, amble, bask 
as humour takes you, never think to ask 
of costs or consequences, to never trim 

or balance, need to tack, or double back. 
There's no-one holding you to strict account. 
You waste your time guilt-free, don't have to mount 
defence or mitigation. If you lack 

the cares and burdens of my tedious chores, 
perhaps there's something else you'll never own 
- a subtle thing called purpose, which alone 
gives point to my percentages and scores. 

Don't look so smug for landing on all fours! 
This ledger's done. I know I have to die, 
and that's my tragedy. You, pumpkin pie, 
don't have a clue what's coming. And that's yours.

Contemplating Nothingness

To contemplate nothing with something, a Sisyphean task
The mind’s paths, like Escher’s roads, simply double back
To land again in somethingness, explanations lack
Yet our deeper selves know profoundly the nothingness
It’s the void that fills up magically with a loved one’s kiss

5/3/16

Gut Gripes

Gut Gripes
There is a man who eats hand grenades.
They go Kaboom! in his big fat belly.
You ask why does he eat them?

He's got a slight indigestion problem.
A trip to the doctors gave no joy.
As did anti acid tablets.
Changing his diet helped for a while.
But his stomach gripes returned twice as bad.

Then he remembered the box of grenades.
They belonged to his granddad.
He had nothing to lose.

So he pulled the pin and off popped off the spoon.
With a grin he swallowed the live grenade.
He stomach moaned before the bomb went boom.
It was like a whale being kicked in the balls.
His guts gave a mighty heave and he did a double back flip.

Then landed on floor and grinned before passing out.
When he came too he felt a little bit better.
For good measure he ate another grenade. 

It was just like before but it cured his indigestion.
Now it's time for a curry and spicy kebab.
Then twenty pints of beer.
Just like the old days when anything went.
Eat what you want with no damn problems.

If his guts act up it's time for a grenade!

The Unplanned Spin

The Day you came to his life as sparkle sunshine…
He had one more day to cherish it with wine…

From the day of your existence he was always there for you…
Just he wanted you to bloom and make him proud too…

In the society he never intended to put limit on your proclivity…
But he knew the cruel color of the people in the vicinity…

Don’t come to the conclusion about him as a man bad…
Even his heart skipped the “beat” when you called him dad….

He slogs to draw up your beautiful fate…
Don’t be devoid of feeling & burn that hate…

Don’t weigh up him with someone by your side….
Else his soul may run away so far & hide….

Put down him with tenderness as you never did it before…
He will take wing & smile in the heart deep core....

It’s unfitting, what you call as "My Choice"....
Still he won't double back & be your voice....

By - (Gautam)
17th April 2015

Double Back

No matter what is taken away,
God doubles back with much repay!

Several Days of Agony

Several days of agony; 
Last night...almost doubled up. 
Moaning in pain.
Even through pain killers. 

Phoned dentist: Appt. at 2.40...
Timed it badly. 
Started out; it was raining. 
Had to double back and change. 

Was almost late. Put on anorak. 
Stuffed shoes in rugby shirt; 
In bag. Wore cap. 
Took cheque book. 

Change of trousers. 
Mine got drenched. 
Changed there. 
Young guy thought I was crazy. 

I stripped the anorak. 
Went in; waited. 
The dentist poked around 
and touched decay. 

It was so painful; I cried out. 
He went to work. 
He temporarily filled it. 
I was exhilarated.  

(Based on diary notes made March 2013).

Black Lips

Black lips vibrating for the right mix
Black lips kiss with a passion, Black fistfight for our past and future sons
bloodshed lies spilled
Black lips start to peel
slaving for a meal, time standing still, life flying by
black lips begin to cry, no more lies, no more corrupt minds
Cut all ties with evil spines, attempting to take the soul of the Black lips, with a quick fix
gripping tight on the crucifix
hundreds of years running
hundreds of years of being a fugitive, accused of living Black, black Lips Start To fight Back
Activist, these Lips Never Fall back
These Lips were in Defense, and Now It's Time to Attack
never double back to slavery
black lips keep the bravery
Are some going to hell? maybe, you cannot save all beings
it's human nature, even though God Created everything
Going through the struggle
black lips start to sing
I'm blessed in the name of the King, All Through Summer, Winter, Fall, and Spring.
I Will Sing
"I'm Blessed."

Sweet Sonnet Bird

When on the path of poetry I tread,
I rarely know the scenery I’ll find.
I hear a bird that sings inside my head
and measures steps iambic in my mind.

At times it seems a mountain that I climb.
I work but do not sweat. . . it’s more like play!
And each five steps I take, a word must rhyme
with one that’s ten feet farther on my way.

Although I often plod, I hate to rest;
I follow where sweet bird is wont to go
and often double back while on my quest
to find each turn of phrase most apropos.

But, oh, that words to match her melody
would come as swiftly as her song to me!

for the Which is your favorite poem form? Poetry Contest

Echoes of My Soul - Missing Father

Last evening there was a sense of restlessness,
I wasn’t able to grasp why this abjectness;
The sun was slowly dying in a goodbye to a father,
The pain once again manifested my grief to gather;
I wish he could’ve lived and loved eternally and forever,
I’ll walk miles to love him and be loved again allover,
The clouds amass as the shadows come out to play:
Inevitably the creeping night smothers out the day,
A beast howls in aloofness as darkness pitches black…
Doubts start to peep behind life, tend to double back;
But living goes on and on and it happens ev’ryday,
Memories lie stored in the mind refusing to die away;
How do I mask my vulnerability and my truth?
I was a natty little child with emotions for him to soothe:
Father time lumbers on tapering my living soul to cope,
The stars blink, in a flicker of light as I still hold on to hope!

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