It’s hard to clear your head when you’re the clutter.
I write poems compulsively
on elevators, in food service lines
most are rotten, some are quite fine,
you may have read ones unforgotten.
Do you look sad on the coffee shop line?
I give you a back-story and write you a tale.
How you loved, tried your best but failed.
My idle world is one of imagination
My mind’s a hummingbird of poem generation.
It's evening and we're at a fine restaurant.
“Are you listening?” My bf might ask.
“No, sorry,” I admit, chagrined.
I'd been making up a poem
and how I'd lost the thread.
Hey, I’m in on the joke
I embrace stupid things.
I work when I work -
I mean I study when I study
But the moment - and I mean the moment
that structure is overthrown
My mind is free to roam and poem.
.
.
Songs for this:
Can't Tame Her by Zara Larsson
Boyfriend by Mabel
Flimflamming flighty fairyland
Hidden in hills, next to solid sand
Subterfuge for elves and king elf grand
Sought out by curious Mariachi band
Resilient are those, who are seemingly broken;
Mighty are the ones so flighty, who own truths left unspoken.
A flighty butterfly, was he
trapped in space;
how came he to be,
in this stellar place?
His lovely colors of,
translucent lace streams;
orange and pink,
blue, white and green;
lovely colors only,
astronomers see.
Perhaps, flying too high,
in space, he arrived,
he flew into a deep black hole;
a nebula echoes, the colors of his soul.
Written 5-27-19
Chose #1. The Butterfly Nebula to write about.
For Contest: Nifty Named Nebula's Poetry Contest”
Sponsor: William Kekaula
She was a flighty bird,
A lighty bird,
A zippy, dippy, slighty bird.
She ran in fast, and built the worst nest.
The male birds all ran to help,
Showing her their next-building prowess.
Their mate-birds were mad, but they started to relax
When she told them her story, she shared all her facts.
She was a She-she-bird, not looking for a mate.
She built nests for other she’s, some with a bad fate.
She built nests for she-she’s who needed shelter.
She used all the help she could, for her nests were helter-skelter.
The other fem-birds were glad to welcome her aboard.
They sat and they watched their husbands, without any accord,
Building flighty bird’s nest, readying it for a family in need.
And they shared with these families every bit of their seed.
Colonel Flighty is a cad
Thinks himself a funny wag
Thinks he's mighty, ain't that sad
"Look at me! A strutting stag!"
Jiggly belly, jowls that sag
Throat all phlegmy, such a drag
Trousers smelly, makes you gag
Leaky colostomy bag.
Toss him quickly drown a crag
If he lives we'll be so mad
End his sickly feeble brag
Hear his fading shout, "Egad!"
There are times I feel
I’m like a small flighty bird
Endlessly and powerfully drawn by the wind
To the sky
The clouds
The sun and moon and sea and world
The colors I wear and the words I sing often attract the interest of humans
Approaching clumsily hands outstretched
They interest me
My head cocks from side to side
Studying
I sing and draw them, tease them, intrigue them
It’s a game I play
But the instant they take one step too many, compromising my space, threatening my freedom
I’m gone
Back to the peaceful independence of the lonely sky
Tied to nothing and no one
But one came singing a song of his own
A song that harmonized perfectly with mine
He approached slowly, sweetly, thoughtfully
And I listened and watched
Felt
Took the slightest of hops toward him
Impulsively
Timidly
Longingly
Captivated
Nearly within arms reach
Nearly surrendering
Too close, I fled
For if I were to become a caged bird
I fear I would cease to sing
Scrub floors or walk the plank
Cook continuously
Emotions flighty felt
Swim vigorously in sea
What bad could happen next
On sea floating within inch
Of boat with slow gait
What an experience
Next time I'll just say,
"Yes, dear" for it will be
Much safer than the plank
And sharks in open sea.
I would like to thank you for your visit.
I have removed these poems for a distant future book publication.
I believe we poets, can make a difference
in this world. We live in the 21st century,
we have tools( technology), we have our past, and imagination.
We just don't have the courage, because
I guess most are afraid to fail, to loose money.
All I have to say is we can't take money with us,
when we die. I also say hasn't mankind failed enough,
and isn't mankind worth the effort, our children is worth the effort..
Thank you, and my your God Bless you
John E WordSlinger
I would like to thank you for your visit.
I have removed these poems for a distant future book publication.
I believe we poets, can make a difference
in this world. We live in the 21st century,
we have tools( technology), we have our past, and imagination.
We just don't have the courage, because
I guess most are afraid to fail, to loose money.
All I have to say is we can't take money with us,
when we die. I also say hasn't mankind failed enough,
and isn't mankind worth the effort, our children is worth the effort..
Thank you, and my your God Bless you
John E WordSlinger
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