I’m not on social media
And yet I have a group
Of buddies I have never met;
I know them from the Soup.
We comment on each other’s poems
And through each varied post,
We learn, in dribs and drabs, about
What matters to us most.
My fellow poets span the globe
And one above the rest
Took time each day to let me know
He’d read what I’d expressed.
His repertoire of limericks,
Which no one could resist,
Were funny, often bawdy,
But a day was never missed.
So when I didn’t see a post
From my Hawaiian friend,
I had a sinking feeling
It might signify the end.
Dear Rico, may you rest in peace.
I’ll miss our warm rapport
And your signature Aloha!
Will not greet me anymore.
The concept of emptiness
The vanity of vanity
What is enjoyment in you
The opaque that walks in the night
Like a strange soul upon the stygian bank
Wallowing in the pool of abomination
Dribs and drabs man is dashing away
Like smoke in the air
No one can stop the dregs of you
Life, the femme fatale
You enchant and en masse all
You ensnare the brilliant against the dull
You excel as light excels darkness
You ensconce nature with your charm
You enshroud the fact of nature
Your threnody is ambiguous
Now the sacred hope is stained
Man triumph another woe
Who will preach the woe that beside man
Taboo is an icon commemorating
Arrive, white aliens and save our soil
You make the minutes dribble
Down the meanderings of time
First drizzling
Then dripping
In dribs and drabs
Then dropping
In driblets
That drain the hours
And drown the days
And I
With my drowsy eyes
My drifting mind
And shaking hand
Turn a deaf ear
To the hue and cry
To the whys
And the wherefores
of your fatal lure
For I have no time
To let go of you
And live my life
As you have already
eaten it up
Sobriety
to reclaim momentum like a thrown fast ball
to get beyond the confinement of a booze-haze
when beer came before bread
an escape from one's self
submerged under foam
free from the bottle
no longer on the edge of living with bits and drabs of rot
a colorful landscape that re-boots resilience
tapestry hues
that sheath images, glowing
recovering a lost sense of time
brought into focus
the resolve: to weave a new reality of self
narrative change
clear eyes that sweep the world clean
newly knitted to others
a tapestry
no longer threadbare
no sense of unraveling
no more screaming at the stars
the surprising clarity of giant strides
a renewal
rising
Composed: November 8th, 2021
BITS AND PIECES
Bits and pieces they say makes the whole
A whole of what I can't help but ask
Bits and pieces of pain - despondence
Bits and pieces of lies - distrust
Bits and pieces of self - egocentricity
Whatever be your chosen assort.
So,
The bits and pieces you chose to gather
In mind do bear the responsibility of
that the bits and pieces you then do sow
To lend from the French "des choses"
Are the sort of dribs and drabs ......
You should feel no fear to harvest.
ripples of water torture accepted
the wrinkle of time descending
mannahly marantic romance
torticollis dribs and drabs of syringe
honey’d seeds remain; cakes fade away
dawn will erase; placidity will forget
but the depths release their seamonsters
reflected in the honeymoon, between palms
with firework stars overhead; eternal bliss
9/25/2020
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Impact and Metaphors Poetry Contest
*mannahly - mannah turned into an adverb
Aerial dribs and drabs, a sidewalk canvas
As a toddler chases bubbles her mother blows
from confectionary soap,
Fluttering fluidity in spring air
Child's laugh, a mosaic of innocence, discovery and glee
Her run after each globe, unsteady, twisted gravity
Her footwork shifts in warfare wobble, no sinkhole falling
Her reach to pop each bubble, circus kerfuffle, giddy,
giggles that swing like a trapeze artist,
while a mother retrieves
unexpected memory
shards of recovery
that coat a guarded self
Neverland jester, a child's guileless glow,
routing air baubles
unconstrained by space,
untethered from fear,
avoiding a fall off the planet
to limited mobility
For sometimes life's march
doesn't start on time
Poem revised: April 19, 2021
This you see is a draft
Minds little notes of lines and verse
In dribs and drabs
In prose, I stab and stab
Repeating oft said words
Expressions rehashed to be reheard
Yearning only for that one to see
This my attempt at being me
The ebb and flow of a sadness boat
Feeble attempts to keep afloat
Yet drowning in words it seems to be
Prose no longer setting me free
Learning more and knowing less
Wise words not heeded at best
For lingering in the dampness there
Is death, burning slow with its evil stare
Icicles arrested in time freeze over tears cried and abandoned
they shear and fear in torn abandon when solutions have dried
and our mind’s flow screams in silence as a dark crystal night hangs
like daggers from thunderous storms
Once the solar eclipse rewinds and points at the sky there is a tiny
glimpse of the rainbow as drips and drops turn drabs into hope
when sepia seeps out and the soul gathers colour
Beware of the wetlands and cherish the moment
endings are beginnings and time does not stand still
Midnight
and the darkened silence
dreams
waking in shadows
looking for you.
Morning rises
slow and steady in the sky
burning
inner passions
seeking for you.
Mid afternoon
falls in dribs and drabs
tearing
in hot summer sun
waiting for you.
Mid evening shade
cools and calms the heart
beating
tired of the day
wanting you still.
Midnight calls
slip sliding to sleep
dreaming
pulling images and figures in
I'll be back for you.
I slip into a circle
Or a circle becomes my surrounding
With certainty i can’t tell you
Now I feel the avoidance
The criminal negligence
And the cruel apathy
From the vibrant neighbours
Eating, sleeping and hoarding
Laughing at the cost of dignity
To tell spade a spade
Against the piece of drabs
And inspire someone
Striving for the best
They all are brave enough
To nourish the sycophant
But too coward to face this fool
Hammering on with words
Their inborn follies
Being a narrow minded
On caste, religion and race
They behave like they are
On the tip of an apex
But they are really small
Like a speck of cloud
Floating in the lap of
Vastness of endless space
Yet they feel proud of
For their being born
In a house where
Only meanness grows
For the blood they carry
In their swollen veins
Though it is not blue
Yet they go arrogant
With stubbornness of a mule
With mulishness of a wild goat
They will reach nowhere
Whereas I will rise
Like the sparing smoke
As I know to burn myself
Alone in the fire
In the hearth of all indifference.
“TIME”
Time is life and necessary
It inhales in dribs and drabs
It exhales colossally-
It is gradual and progressive
It is time, he hiccups and talks
He sucks and chews
She crawls and walks
It is time she learns and drives
Time is work
And should be hold tenaciously
For it is shimmering but billowing
When fiddle while Rome burns.
Time is situational and circumstantial
For all the hustle and bustle of life
For it strides with thorns, love and merry
It sinks contemporarily and fashionably.
Time is rendezvous
But stings in a haste
It is merry in a state of trust
And it bites in betrayal
Time is death anyway
For as it beats in seconds and minutes
It magnetizes five-years to fifty-years
Until thou kiss thy mother earth
Moreover, time is everything!
for compassion...
hate like silent venom flows
spewing forth in dribs and drabs
how will the wounds ever heal
with such vitriol tearing at the scabs
we shudder at the words of hate
and wonder will it ever cease
but hope springs forth for
we know it begins within us, now, today
with the simplest acts of human compassion
so that gentle love may banish the hate away
I flipped through the pages of my brain
Hoping the words would spill out from the notes.
Although I didn’t know the letters to play
But once it pops up, I would surely know.
Ideas started dropping in dribs and drabs
But none could wet the ground of my desire.
Its sound I should know with a few playbacks.
All I heard shocked me, till I was tired
So I sought an extra head which I found
Full and small hence so light for my neck
Ideas now flowed ceaselessly as we ploughed
We came so close but could not get there yet
Finally out the blue now appeared
Spillingwillie, the name my blog now bears
A poem dedicated to my friend Onuh Dorcas without whom the name wouldn’t exist.. Hope you love it
Now ladies and gents, let's bring no offense
to the lads that wear tightly clad drabs
They liked the film Kinky Boots
And have watched The Full Monty
So now they dance naked and/or dress drag!
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