Where there is no trust
there is no point in ‘talks’
Terms one side proposes
the other will reject ...
But 'keep the momentum going’
'Schedule another round of talks'
Fancy tuxedos drone on and yawn
boy soldiers fall ~ families up in arms
Candle tongue stirs the skin within my skin,
Glass red with so many tears —
Romance personified by the melting of wick,
Though shadows drone on walls, a phantasmic tango
These French lips worth reading —
Inside heart highs and lows
Timing
Glimpsing
Stealing
Candle tongue stirs the skin within my skin —
These French lips worth reading,
Stealing
Reflective listening
Thats the one
People can say how they have been undone
Or have a glorious tale
Of adventure
Bad guys went to jail
Listening carefully
Too all they say
Can perceive their life story
In five minutes
A day
Often they drone on
The story is repeated
Elongated
Embellished
Stretching the five minutes
Until they call it a day
No one knows how that goes
Except for the therapist
Who is picking her nose
Repeats back one or two words
And on the story goes
Just
sitting there
hanging on my eyes;
Sober up, that’s not enough.
Nah.
Already forgot your name.
You drone on ‘Pookie,
just feed on
me.
Nothings new, I wake up, same hour,
Greet the mirror, same reflection, no power.
Off to school, same tiredness, all days,
Routine repeats, in a monotonous maze.
Nothings new, as the sun rises high,
Same old routine, beneath the same sky.
Morning echoes, a familiar tune,
A cycle of sameness, like a tired monsoon.
Nothings new, in the classroom's embrace,
Same desks, same faces, in the same space.
Lectures drone on, a predictable song,
Day after day, it seems so long.
Nothings new, as the bell finally rings,
Same footsteps, same corridors, the same old things.
Homework awaits, a relentless demand,
In this never-changing, repetitive land.
Nothings new, as the night descends,
Same tired thoughts, as the day ends.
I lie in bed, the same weary sigh,
A lullaby of sameness, beneath the starry sky.
Nothings new, yet the world spins around,
In the same orbit, in silence, profound.
Life unfolds, in its unchanging view,
And I wonder if there's more, or if it's all true.
Nothings new, but I dream of a change,
A break from the cycle, a chance to rearrange.
For in the echoes of monotony's song,
May there be a whisper of something new, before too long.
Anti-Poem — “Nuclear Noah”
i turned the white sidewalk extending to beverly boulevard
my street teeming with oozing life the stilled human voices
the decades dead coming out of their houses again coming
down the dim sidewalk wearing the colors of remembrance
electric mothers with babies on porches spying the galaxies
i saw them all watched them climb the open skies at sunset
their resurrected arms extending to the apexes to the stars
supersonic specter opens the chest plate carves the future
trumpet peels reverberate like singing priests at noon tide
the host is lifted the choirs of the redeemed drone on now
i saw them go up climbing spiraling upward into the tumult
nuclear noah with eyes of jasper descending to the throng
the dream door is closed is locked for seven black autumns
I need to be patient with some folks I know
Who prattle on about nothing and loudly proclaim,
They are experts on this or that … hot air they blow
I suppose to acquire for themselves a bit of fame.
To be known for blathering and loquaciousness,
With no understanding of the value of dead silence
Causes me utter consternation, I must confess,
And sometimes almost provokes me to violence.
I am too polite to say, “Will you please shut up!”
My gut starts churning as they drone on and on
With meaningless bloviating at a horse’s gallop,
So, excusing myself, am to nearest restroom gone.
written January 14, 2022
SANTA WISHES YOU A BLOOMING CHRISTMAS
Oh deer, did the night drone on and on,
the liftoff of a midnight clear.
Away from The Pole, he drinks a ton of beer,
and plants 100 flamingoes in each lawn.
12/27/2021
How did the jungle get here?
Did it come on a train
like an old time circus
rolling in before dawn
while we splattered safety-nets
with doomsday drivel.
A rainforest has invaded;
has manifested out of alarm and
a far too high quotient
of native dumbness.
The clacking of parrots
mutes the lowing of milk cows,
only the cicada drone on
happy to click along.
This green thunder is oppressive.
The domestic canopies of backyards
are sprouting mythic Triffids.
Grass is getting spikey and carnivorous.
Tabby cats are abducted
by prowling panthers.
Giant sloths hang from the hedgerows.
Did we dream up this primal Eden?
Did we cancel
the regular unpredictable weather
of predictable Ohio?
Global Warming
could never have appeared to be real
if we had not made it so
by thinking it so,
and as so many here
think very little -
we had it coming.
How did the jungle get here?
Did it come on a train
like an old time circus
rolling in before dawn
while we splattered mind-nets
with our secrets?
A rainforest has invaded;
has manifested out of alarm and
a far too high quotient
of native dumbness.
The clacking of parrots
drowns out far off whale songs,
mutes the lowing of milk cows,
only the cicada drone on
happy to click along.
This green thunder is oppressive.
The domestic canopies of backyards
are sprouting mythical Triffids.
Grass is getting spikey and carnivorous.
Tabby cat are being abducted
by roaming panthers.
Giant sloths hang from the hedgerows.
Did we dream up this primal Eden?
Did we cancel
the regular unpredictable weather
of predictable Ohio?
Global Warming
could never have appeared to be real
if we had not made it so
by thinking it so,
and as so many here
think very little -
we had it coming.
During one year of my high school (I can’t remember which),
Everything was beautiful in one particular class.
Books were not required.
Only imagination and creativity were
Revered!
An outstanding teacher fresh out of college
Held me enraptured that one entire semester.
Rather than drone on with lectures, she inspired us to
Own our uniqueness!
Zestfully she approached
Each “teaching” moment with interesting lessons.
By having us sit in a circle really listening to one another, she
Opened up our minds, allowing us to voice
Our opinions and then express them through descriptive writing.
Much appreciation I have for the amazing teaching of Ms. Rozeboom.
Oct. 20, 2019
for Chantelle Anne Cooke's "Favorite Teacher or Professor" Poetry Contest
”You Can Become Dreamy In A Spa”
(by Rainbow ?? Promise)
Soft Erie-like musical strains -
Guitars, flutes, banjos, violins
Float in the Air with rhythmic flare.
With rhythmic flare you lay bare,
Soft lights, candle lit, flicker there,
As Erie-like strains drone on.
As Erie-like strains drone on
Facial being done, masques run
Dripping, nostrils squeezing, squeeze.
Nostrils squeezed, can you breathe?
Hot chemical-filled towel like a wreath
Placed in triangular form, chin to nose
Triangular form chin to nose
Droning, Recurring soft music you pose,
in solitaire,
O, a Spa can be Erie like a Morgue!
I’ll never forget what’s her name;
That teacher who bored us to tears
Whose voice seemed to drone on and on
And lessons appeared to last years.
Her minuscule lacklustre eyes
Peered over a spectacled nose
No glimmer of passion in sight
No colourful facts to expose.
She reeled off the kings and the queens
The plight of Marie Antoinette,
Victorians, Tudors and wars
And all with a face firmly set.
I’ll never forget what’s her name
Oh how I was left uninspired.
It’s rumoured her smile first appeared
The day when at last she retired.
16.09.19
'I'll never forget what's her name contest' : sponsored by John Lawless
Dismiss me so gently like swishing chiffon
To dream like a phoenix, time to drone on
But dead like a doormat,unable to pain
Pillar of salt , summoned by the urgent sea
There to be drowned but for the buoyancy
Pavemented path of ceaseless regret
Appartion goes past I try to forget
Oh that was us, why is this what we do?
We smash our beliefs so deliberately
Hopes doleful travellers, loves amputees
Tore out the page yet swore to be true
Promises made with a foot in the door
Eavesdrop a thought ,oh God I miss you
Not So Precious Moments
They call
these nameless voices
introduced by
insipient rings
droning on
their piercing voices
shattering the moment.
They insist
on speaking breathlessly
running past the
comma’s
hurdling the
periods
racing toward
some distant goal.
Oblivious to
barking dogs
screaming children
whistling tea kettles
beeping smoke detectors
droningonandonandon
in mantric monotony.
Who imposes
such a penance,
demands such restitution?
What past life indiscretion
could bring about
such karmic contingency?
They call
yet I cannot offer
forgiveness.
Nor will I save the
endangered
kaigiwalligalopolous
by sharing
my credit card info.
Not even if they send me
a picture of
the kaigiwalligalopolous
my contribution saved.
They drone on
as I have set
the receiver down
and walked away.
The dog barks
the kids scream
the kettle whistles
the smoke detector beeps
the pan cakes are really done.
John G. Lawless
© 3/4/2017
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