spring saunters into the convention wearing his usual hat
a tiny goldfinch dipped in red stares us other seasons down
he is surrounded by flowers and butterflies, I look for his cat
But she decided to stay home, away from this usual clown
He brings an infusion of enthusiasm and glee
we other seasons try to ignore him, but there is no way
He has a wasp today, a dragonfly and a bee
Wearing a smug swagger, a gentleman’s sway
He knows he is all that, probably the favorite season of all
His fans are trailing him, fawning in stupidity
Let’s try to ignore him says my best friend, Fall
He is too full of himself; there is no humility
He skips in
With a large happy grin
Full of himself
He continues walking in
The sun is shining
The sky is clear
All his worries disappear.
He walks in
with a stale simple look
Confused by himself
He stops at the door
Rain is patting down the windows
Light clouds in the sky
His worries begin to appear once again.
He stutters in
With a small noticeable grin
Not sure anymore
He walks back out
Heavy rain is attacking the windows
Dark clouds in the sky
His worries are much stronger than before.
He never showed up
Didn't even show his face
Completely carefree
He never showed up
The sun is shining
The sky is clear
And all his worries have disappeared.
he was sick of the racing stripes on his automobiles
a modern-day Buddha in his garage full of himself
and vintage cars of classical acclaim and chrome
had become nauseous at the mere site of his Lotus
decided to live like the monk who sold his Ferrari
ascetic instead he would attempt to move mountains
traded his bicycle for begging bowl and orange robe
roamed the streets like a vagrant off his or her trolley
eventually sold his puncture kit for a can full of petrol
and considered his enlightenment by self-immolation
the service station attendant had other plans however
a beautiful woman with olive tanned skin and a bindi
‘you don’t have to emulate Siddhartha to find the path of
the third way between all or nothing greed and starvation’
she whispered and gave him a lotus flower from her heart
29th December 2020
Nelumbo nucifera is the botanical name of the lotus
Push the ed
S------------t----------e---------- --t------------ch----------------ed the line
a little con STRAINT
watching words f
---------------------a
----------------------l
----------------------l
Were-Theywant
Some Times are outback for a smoke
Others drink to croak
My ex has quizzed an it
Be Aut is full of himself
For flirts with got
Sup never found its port
Otherwise is causing an argument
f jumped think he got it right
Never ferred once to do it again
Dis just tracks you
Watt ewe scene ewe saw
A Cardinal’s trill, peep…peep…peep…peep…peep…
often full of himself, wakes me from sleep.
peep…peep…pretty…pretty…pretty; rings out his bliss;
across Kentucky’s bluegrass in the morning mist.
A tad egocentric but, he’s allowed;
his bright red plumes make him oh, so proud.
He’s a splash of color in the trees,
a scarlet, rose red dot, singing in the breeze.
Peep…peep…pretty…pretty…birdie; I’m a pretty…birdie;
must get on his partner’s nerves; he can be over-chirpy.
the female is who is a, rusty brown.
Has to be jealous of that noisy clown!
Written 2-14-19
Rudolph's name is really Adolf
But was coined for he was thought rude
Assumed to be full of himself
As leader of the reindeer brood
His red nose stayed up in the air
That part of the story is right
But he only kept it that way
To see around the blinding light
About that "rude olf" moniker
He would always spread the word
To please only call him Adolf
Ironically that was preferred!
Baby girl please listen to me
Don't fall in love so soon
He's fooling you
Don't let your innocent mind be fooled from his sweet charming
Read the lies in his eyes
Don't get comfortable with his hugs
He's an empty soul
Be the one with a mature sense because you're smart and know better
He's full of himself
Look beyond his handsomeness
His heart is a black coal
He's nothing but trouble
Baby girl please listen to me
Don't go fall in love with him because he's got a BMW and a few bucks to treat you
He's a show off heartbreaker no good for you
Don't sell your pure heart to him my girl
He's not the one... Trust me!
Smile
Akkina R Downing
someone stole
my soul while
I look for
another one
He all ready
got one
but wants
mine to
I give him
my gun and
try to send him
on his way
but he fights
like a mercenaries
with no place
to go
he thinks
nothing of death
and wants to
blow himself up
protector of anything
full of himself
eyes afraid
and empty
stands in the
middle of the
road and watches
cars go by
tells me I’m
worth nothing
unless I
worship myself
He’s my brother
but he steals
my soul
all the time
meanwhile she
calls my name
and I wait for
the sky to open
i see her
smile and
think how
alone I am
she sings
songs
but not
mine
I give
her my soul
but she won't
take it
I say a prayer
and shake
myself
out of it
I dance
but not
cause
I want to
I dance
because
the wind
blows hard
dying every
day because
someone tries
to steal my soul
HIS and HERS - limericks
HERS
SWEET MOLLY SHE SET OUT THE BAIT
ORDERED A DRINK FOR THE WAIT
LIFTED HER SKIRT
FANNED SCENTED FLIRT
WHILE WATCHING THEIR EGOS INFLATE
HIS
Young Buster was full of himself
a bruiser devoid of all stealth
he measured his worth
by its length and its girth
had it bronzed and put on a shelf
John G. Lawless
7/17/2015
Life is a bastard son, prodding the fertile horizon
poking into places tender, tearing the expanse of dawn
he taunts, rude and bellicose, so full of himself
spewing into the weakest streams, a wet dream.
With platitudes he prances, son of a fearsome father
promising eternity, singing a lover's song of praise.
Light bearer, holder of the golden scalpel, night cutter
leaving glare where softness once held sway.
May the abyss, the gentle dark, the yin forgive you..son.
From the pear-shaped loins of sister Eve, you have burst
washed in the waters of she, a caul of white adorned,
pray, stay your hand, do not bludgeon your better half.
Existence, endless, fleeting, meld and join this randy pair
for universes swing between this bastard and his dreams.
Dedicated to my muse Brenda Atry
please read her "Black Diamond Night"
help mrs. muse is gone and my mind is shooting blanks
my friend called inspiration is trying to walk the plank
motivation just married mr lazy
and confidence started acting really crazy
cousin common sense is on vacation out of town
and aunt intelligence is nowhere to be found
uncle rational is at the casino gambling his life away
and my best friend happiness never wants to stay
my neighbor opportunity doesnt knock on my door anymore
and my girlfriend love is really just a whore
my partner pride is always full of himself
and sister sympathy is busy with someone else
grandpa wisdom is smart enough not to say a word
and grandma compassion is seen but never heard
the only friends that ever come to town
is anger and disgust and they always hang around
my high school sweat heart infatuation doesnt really call
and my childhood friend imagination doesnt exist at all
A ten-foot-high sunflower man
with a gold-capped tooth in his mouth but
there ain't no plan
yet he wears the same old knotty
dreadlocks again and again
While walking himself through
Black Folk's yard in that bebop-style
no doubt along the avenue road
while smoking some of that sweet sweet Gunga
Yet, him so full of himself
rasta man young rapper
you rapscallion, did you bring the juice
a most rare diamond
in a crevice of the deepest cave
its radiance hidden from the world
the human eye deprived of its luster
a waste
what a waste
the magenta bloom of a rose
behind the winding thorny vines
of the thickened forest
its aroma diminished
before it can be breathed in
a waste
what a waste
a vibrant beauty longing for love
to be treasured but ignored
willing to promise her very being
to an indifferent man
full of his own interests
full of himself
a waste
what a waste
He makes me laugh when I’m about to cry.
He is very different than I am; but that’s what makes him, him.
He makes no sense to me sometimes.
He admits that he’s full of himself.
He doesn’t know how much I care about him.
He calls me his angel.
He also lives in New Mexico.
He has never seen me face to face.
He has seen me in pictures, and said I’m beautiful.
He is indescribable.
He is my best friend.
He is my Mexican Jerky.
I love him.
He's called a Pistashe
Now isn't that a odd sounding name for a tree?
A more likely name would be Dashing
With his bold personality
He's not meek, or discreet
He has a daring streak!
He steals the limelight
From every other tree in sight!
It's not very humble, with all his pride
Standing out from the other's on our mountainside
But I must admit, he outshines the maple
He outshines the ash
With his bright, bold, red leaves
He's quite right to be rash....he's the Pistashe!
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