Coffee-Maker – drip drips
As coffee-blenders…zip zips
Brought my morning sippy-cup
For a quick zip from your caftan mug.
I don’t need a lot
Just a snippy-zippy single shot
To start the day and awaken my mind,
Speed my pace - fall not behind.
There’s much to accomplish and much to do
Just takes a minute to heap a brew!
Of all rounded beans, coffee beans are the best
Add some chai for a zest
Sipping a sip from my sippy-cup
My slumbering eyes do wake up!
Oozing comfort warms my throat
Warms my soul like a coat
A Rush of kinetic energy electrify
Procrastination and sluggishness desensitize
A sudden burst to run a race
Productivity produces a rhythmic pace
Word-clutters arise like the morning sun
Time for work…Time for fun!
Coffee certainly is a legal drug!
I’m all wired-up - though unplugged -
From one little zippy drip
Of a coffee sip
From the grinded drug
Poured into my sipping-mug…?•
Strike me with your ligjtning of love,
electrify every fiber of my being
with the violet voltage
that your soul can unleash,
spell love upon my soul
with a bolt of tongue thunder,
make me vibrate vulnerable,
deliver unto me the raw of passion
flashing like a cyclone
of lethal caress,
buckle me blind to my knees
pleading for revelation ruthless,
I tremble in your storm of seduction,
bleeding straight into your mouth
of wet fire,
shock me strikingky into the center of salvation,
elevate my erected ethos of eternity,
let me lavish You with a lodestone
of unmistakable loyalty,
I pour upon your majesty
a lava from the bowels of bravery,
I harness your storm heat
in the palms of my oceanic urge,
exploding through a riptide of desire surge,
I want every part of your wild atmosphere,
the lips of your thunder tempting my testimony
to speak the truth of temptation,
Light my sky with lust,
make me star gaze
into your eyes of terrible amor,
I want you like I want the crown of the Universe,
I collapse into your catastrophe of love,
knowing that you will not abandon Me,
that You will serve Me the love that I need -
J.A.B.
Good Old Grandpa
My grandpa,
is as round shouldered as a question mark
and he is led about all day
by his wobbly walking stick,
with teeth that aren’t real,
hidden behind a moustache that is
while his memories simmer warmly
inside his crinkled paper bag of a face.
My grandpa,
old and worn on the outside
but sparky and fresh on the in.
For he often,
shakes my hand with fifty pence pieces,
makes sweets pop out from behind his ears
then smokes all like a train
and laughs like one as well.
My grandpa,
Plays jokes on my mother
to freshen her face with a smile
then tells me stories which electrify my brain.
But best of all,
when my dad loses his temper,
Gandpa just tells him
to sit down and behave himself.
Good old grandpa!
Dickering aches December me,
tragedy squeaks in knotted knees.
Banana back bent in the sack,
paddywack foot arches
bone of a moan,
no bounce in this frozen morn.
Non-elastic, erratically rheumatic,
I need a mechanic, a spanner
to wrench upon
this brainless stammer,
this dither and shiver
or spark plugs to electrify
an out-of-tune mind
as it circles
behind
a reluctantly thawing
eye.
Awake me muse, for I need to commit,
To something, anything that will keep me fit
Before me sits, an unbuilt kit,
waiting for me to assemble it
With steady hands ready to work,
Unboxing, pulling out pieces,
for all they are worth
Parts and pieces dispersed here and there,
instructions interpreted as somewhat fair
Leave it to me, I’ll get it done,
better late than never, I told someone.
Time has come, to glue this to that,
prime, sand, then paint all that
To finish the task at one’s feet,
the process calls for it to repeat
Don’t call me a bad guy,
if I justify why you should electrify
You can paint or wallpaper any wall,
it doesn’t much matter to me at all
With all those lights still so dark,
plug in with “AC” to get a spark
Once we throw the thumb-wheel switch,
we behold all that glows,
hopefully, without a hitch.
I can proudly say to you this day,
this dolls house is ready and on its way
Ready for you to decorate
with folks gathering to participate
Thanking you in advance
for this build of mine
and approving of my timeline
At some point, you might say,
at his best, he was a gifted Miniaturist
A bizarre light show streaked across the sky.
The blinding lightning seemed to explode and electrify.
a
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Vivid flashes of color to the clouds and everything under.
Striking blasts of illumination floodlit the night.
In total awe we eagerly witnessed this amazing sight.
Breaking the silence, more crashes of thunder came booming down.
Deafening the unsuspecting residence of our Sydney town.
A mind boggling spectacle was being played out.
Unable to hear ourselves think, we couldn't even shout.
A memorable night, never happened before, maybe never again.
Now along with the thunder, comes torrents of rain.
In a canvas alive with whispers of green and blue/
A giant buffalo stands, proud, bold, with majesty pride/
Its horns, like arching galaxies reach for the sky/
The buffalo stands, proud, bold, a spirit true in hues that electrify the vibrant African plans long and wide/
Against the vibrant tapestry he commands your sight, a symbol of strength, a guardian of the night/
With every stroke of color, the heartbeat of the wild, a masterpiece of nature, untamed and undefiled/
Two black birds, guardians, perch near its might, they dance on the buffalo, in the soft morning light, Contrasting silhouettes, sharp against the hue, they whisper stories of the earth, in the vast African blue/
For in this vivid moment, in this sacred space, lives the spirit of the buffalo, his the freedom we embrace/
In the dance of the buffalo, where nature's voice resounds/ African history must be recognized as the birthplace of all humankind/
Vibrations burst in my muscles
Like warring armies of
Water and wave that
Surge to electrify a city--
I want to leap on the red hill
At the village arena
Like a mighty leopard
And pounce on a willing opponent,
Throw him in the dust
To proclaim a sounding victory
But there is no red hill
At the village arena anymore
Wrestling is no longer
A dear spot among my clansmen
Gold, diamond and rubies
Have lost their shine in the dust.
childlike spontaneity and pure intent
as innate propensity of our soul
in judging poetry contests
where focus is upon
a line of inquiry
seeks an ethereal scent
made alive by words symbolic
cajoling presence to imbibe the fragrance
assimilated in stillness by the mind of our heart
as renowned masteroes electrify the stage
with flawless renderings of their music
an almost imperceptible subtle note
possesses the fabric of our soul
playing as a healing refrain
which is what grips our attention
compellingly as a wave form magical
conjuring in toroidal heart a smokeless fire
exerting upon mind full potency of magnetism
"Ink Lit"
electrify me
words on the page
no longer necessary
illumination is
held in the hidden
reach of your ink
music is never
shallow
excite me
touch me
sing me in
before
we drown
(LadyLabyrinth/2023)
at Christmas, 2023
Music is my therapy,
and yet, confusion rewinds,
in my mind,
dynamic notes of melancholy.
But when ebony keys electrify,
harmony bids darkness goodbye.
To this blank page I summon the Muse,
I’ll give you time if you give me fire;
Electrify my pen light that fuse;
Whisper in my ear let us conspire,
where shall we venture to today?
To say I don’t want you I’d be a liar;
Make my thoughts and words sway
with playful phrases not heard before;
It’s even money no need for a parlay;
Heat lightning is impossible to ignore
let’s capture the world and shake it’s core.
Diving into the wind
reaching for the sunlight,
aglow with the fire of a thousand wishes
granules pulse with prosperity;
Once in a lifetime every time,
negligent to think otherwise;
Fiercely fleeting so grab it
little dragonfly,
invite sparks into the smallest moment;
Electrify
supersonic energy
(Wems Henry Temmy Psalm 84)
Slow commercial car drivers are best picks
How passengers want haste bring conflicts
Slow cement-sand mixers are amazing
Other than impatient fast mixers cum razing
But slow sales make traders crazy
Defining the efforts and trials lazy
Slow minds are confusing to decide
Holding unto failure fear turning tide
Nevertheless, slow students answer better
Yearning faster turns wrongly eyes bitter
Slow cooker burns less or no food
Why boosted one fires in manner so rude
Slow female dancer electrify the hearts
But only the eyes fast dancer do earths
Mind you, slow sprinter wont seize first
Though, sometimes may not be the worst
Slow logic can design one a big fool
Where new mirror isn't a reflecting tool
Slow light can patiently burn farm down
Caging flames unlike the fury light's frown
Slow speed would conserve fuel and lives
Unless a packaged drunk reluctantly sieves
Slow convert knows the truth to live by
Waving day-by-day the world, goodbye...
eleven engrossed esteemed Eastern elves elected Evie, eligible electric elk. Embracing her enthusiastic, energetically evasive elusiveness, enabling enchantment to engage, enhance and excite extra enthusiastic electoralelk endorsement to electrify elfish election.
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