wasting borrowed time
another screw up
ducking between doorways
haunted city streets
walking among ghosts
chasing the void
between neons lights
and falling stars
beer and blood
a body baptismal
a soul revival
punks need contact
A word or two about my view of the politicians
we presumably put in positions of power
hobbyists bought and paid for under the table
catering to manipulating lobbyists by the hour
where saying nothing yet flapping their gums
offending no one when sitting on the fence
doing naught but wagging their tongues
and all the while protesting their innocence
dodging the bullet by ducking the question
avoiding the topic with digression
self-serving landing votes with glad-handing
fingers firmly crossed behind the back
conscience-free they sleep well at night
there's nothing (short of gun) can be done to keep them on track
those more than a few who are quite literally
caught red-handed with their pants down
making a mockery of you and me
should be tarred feathered and run out of town
It burns real sore..Much despair is tendered.' Like it or not? Like could your soul be up-ended?
Its under the fence.? Beyond those pales.' It whispers there are screams; and epic fails.'
An example of the ducking stool.? No matter your standing ( the labelling tools?) Are blunt
And forcefully handled. Too...' ad-nauseum Rules.. dunk dunk dunk.' We observe the thunk,? And
Timbreless'ness second guess..Or ten thousand more 'artificial input un-topical' man are
These doughnuts RAW.!! I guess chocolate is their vanilla? Who nightmared this up? In a
Tangle of interdiction.' At an insanity hub.? Ekow.' and how! my summation in the main, I think.? I guess.
They are out.' Yet never free.' There just seems to be no gain? Is this just like 'twister?' From those
Who have an allergy to deeper games' such as chess.? Or bridge? Or poker.? Or any thing that.. Tries your wits.' ENOUGH.! Of such boring format." With choice straightjacket? Or chocolate
Suit.?
Dr. Death, sure that be your name?
Looking for you day and night
Ducking and dodging was the old game
Some may say my mind not right
Seeking to face you in different ways
Many opportunities to see if you show
Longing for your presence now days
Running from me, that I surely know
Don't won't me to expect your arrival
Sneaking around those that walk in fear
Welcoming with no intentions of survival
There's no noise; a feeling is what I hear
Hounding you may sound very unusual
Looking forward to my new identification
Maxed this character out; it's too casual
Heard you waste no time, without hesitation
Letting you know the time is now I'm ready
Busy, you seem to be no where to be found
Seems to be a line; death has become trendy
Completed my assignments, ready to be crowned
I guess I'm eager to start the next assignment
Job well done, another completion here on Earth
Some are chasing alignment and enlightenment
Wait till they figure out it's a game value $0 worth!
Watching & waiting while in hiding
and faking
Views for the taking but unaware
what is waiting
Freezing & shaking but is it fear or
its weather?
Snapshots for the taking posing for
them cuz it's clever
Good best & better to shy away
from the faking
Shade is made by the sun but it's
above what it's making
Shaking what has been rooted
leaving behind hollow winds
Seeds will grow from your efforts
toward the sky lose or win
Unoriginal in sin as we have seen
this before
Jumping the broom of timelines
looking for knobs on the door
Turning in bed with a snore as if
you've slept through the test
Sleepy & lost in a dream snoozing
on good better best
Picture a snap at its best frozen
in moments of time
Painting a picture in jest with a
stoic face like a mime
Mimicking raps like a mime with
painted face like a canvas
The dry humor so wet that only
fish understand it
Above thee underhanded so keep
the slightest of hand
Close to the vest like a secret
ducking birds on their Stan
Peacock with a colorful stance
with truth outshining the lies
Your essence shines like the sun
& this is what is despised
After the novel
The elderly gent next door drinks a few beers
before going to bed, to fall asleep quickly and
avoid unwanted dreams
We can say his dreams are a myriad of chaos
of thoughts ducking up like mushrooms
after rain
A rhapsody of life lived, a colored tapestry
lightening up the dreamless, who, in utter
despair, no, no, this can't be true
You are mixing up your life with books you
have read and made the content a part of the
truth, to give you strength to meet the day
and not fall into apathy playing poker with life
slowly, the morning came, and night had been
hectic, love stories and romance, nothing
for it, books have helped ruin his life
She led me by the hand
Through a green forest.
Twisting around the trunks,
Ducking beneath low branches.
I followed blindly in love
With the feel of her hand
And the utter sweetness
Of her breath on my cheek,
And her – encompassment.
She stopped in a clearing
But a few yards across,
Pulled herself against my hand
Until her lips covered mine
And her breast impressed
Pertly on my nakedness.
Our kiss was unending
And filled me with fire,
With secret understanding,
And a lust for life itself.
She breathed into my body
Something greater than air.
We held each others hands
As our twinned lips parted,
And I? I breathed out lust.
She mouthed silent words,
Smiled an angelic smile,
Unfurled her gorgeous wings,
And in a column of white
Rose toward the open sky –
Hands and arms outstretched
As if she had just placed
Me in this wooded scene.
The trees and I once more alone –
Free to navigate a way
Though the multitude of leaves
And questionable maneuvers.
I watched her elevation
‘Till she was a star, afar,
As night had brushed dark
Colours over her euphoric clouds.
I found myself reborn.
© Griffonner 2024
Your skin glows like apple blossoms crispy as the sunflower in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your cymbals voice and leaps like a lion at the whisper of your name.
The evening ascends in on a great vulture wing.
I am calmed by your heavy ducking that I carry into the twilight of money beams and hold next to my pancreas.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of coke-a-cola.
As my heart falls from your brain, I am reminded of your frown.
In the hushed, I listen for the last splash of the spring.
My heated gallbladder breathes inside my feet. I wait in the crystal moonlight for your secret toes so that we may seek as one, gallbladder to gallbladder, in search of the glorious rust sensual tools of love.
Poetry soup has a section on here that you can use called, "The love poem generator". I put in some words and boy did I laugh. LOL...
rabbits in tall grass
ducks ducking underwater
deer along tree line
squirrels running up tree
naughty cats in hiding spots
I know where to look
It is all about you
For god's sake - you are exhausting to be around - I can't stand you
You just drain me and use me
You are supposed to be there for me
Where are you?!
Swanning and ducking your way out
Trouble
You have so many reasons
But I never understand
Never get the full picture
Never the truth
This truth
Those words we have and have promised each other
Do they mean anything to you?
Do you spend them?
Do you tear them up?
Melting
The walls are falling down
I blame you
Your name is tattooed to mine
You are signed to me
You are me
strife and war are never far away ~ just like xmas and new years day
six months at most either way ~ can santa keep ducking the ricochet
killing in the name…. i heard him say ~ last seventeen lines on replay
I don’t sense that God keeps score --
my guess, believing He already
has enough pollsters and priests for that,
man’s predisposed world of numbers and
profitable confessions,
ballot slips and extra altar sips,
less Jung and more Freudian
myself reasoning that, Lover and
Judge are not compatible, the best
leaving their robes at the courthouse,
their own dwellings Duty Free
For sure, by now, have learned my ideas
often not mainstream, avoiding prescribed
social templates, ducking Bibles, my heart and head
a record of lumps
attempting to understand and follow Christ
not always a Sunday picnic, the devil in
the weather, and “keep off the grass” --
Pale brimstone
on days windblown
hover flower to flower
ducking Spring's sudden shower
Common butterflies so blue
each season,two generations new
small heath,argus,marbled white
&speckled brown,slow in flight
Winter's caterpillars green &small
fragile miracles,to enthrall
In the tall many-eyed hospital
I am shrunken into a small pocket of isolation
waiting for a man to die or
the replanting of a once mislaid miracle.
I'm ducking beneath time and place waiting for something
I dare not name yet.
A stranger walks by,
he looks at me as if I am known to him
I want to tell him I hardly know myself anymore
but now his eyes are glazing over with indifference.
I’ve been here before,
a little further down this corridor
as a person blanked to off-white for the ease of finding;
a fearless medical concern, laid-out,
detailed, prepped for the probing,
one wrist banded just in case the unforeseen
grew too large to be ignored.
Today I am only a figure on a bench
visiting, hoping for news of death postponed
trying to recall one iota of the fear I once left here
as I, bundled against a heartless wind
was delivered back into a living space,
a place my friend may not find anymore.
"Anything is possible through Christ who strengthens me" He walked the plank for me he did it thankfully and to the ranks who bleed you have my envy for your strength you see!
I ask myself, am I running from the papacy I'd do it greatfully for all the blood that shed tred luckily trust me no one's ducking me
All I can breathe is the moment I rise up in all my armor like come F with me
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