A setted carving,
Written by privation
Words that leak through unfilled ink
Gawping empty between ridges.
Then those canyon cliffs retreat again
Back down to their weary plains
Brothers undo brothers, as
All plains worn away.
And those letters of privation
Are gone, as empty were their valley hollows
Their hollow fame ungained.
Vectors collide head into head, their
Perpendicular paths to ruin
Skidding, crashing, melting, bubbling,
Paths fuse and fissure, which spitter into nothing.
In death’s head shell, a poltergeist cackle
A ghoul of concave echo walls
It throws flaming cocktails to profuse undo
And set alight the beams of memory.
And knowledge stolid, solid meals,
Waste to famine, thoughts
To hollow dreams, not recollections,
What deceit
Are believed imaginations.
Set alight those beams
And worn down hollows of privation
I am left with hollow dreams,
Not recollections. What deceit
Are believed imaginations.
Categories:
gawping, confusion, dream, memory,
Form: Free verse
Hermit thrush
hops, hovers, flips, flicks
gawping shy
modest nest
cup of moss, weeds, twigs, rootlets
sings so Oh! holy
Categories:
gawping, bird,
Form: Shadorma
She wore her skirt short,
her lingerie to be seen.
Such sights aplenty!
Gawking, gawping eyes
lusted at shear nudity.
They burned with hunger.
She proudly stood in
ruffled edges of cheap chintz,
dimmed and stained with wear.
Though worn and weathered,
her shoes had seven-inch heels -
a platform for love.
She was hardworking,
a rough road for seven years,
never a complaint.
She saved her rewards,
wed an investment banker,
retired at 30,
and laughed her way to the bank.
Categories:
gawping, funny, giggle, humorous, money,
Form: Choka
Gazing the stars in the heaven
Contemplating on the mysteries of the hidden.
Counting the petals of flowers in the meadow
Astonishingly its Fibonacci sequence though.
Diving deep into the cell nucleus
Phi ratio of DNA makes me curious.
Does infinity lie within everything?
That made my mind gawping.
Perhaps our destination is infinity.
That gives our soul serenity.
Like two parallel lines
Destiny will make us align.
At infinity we will reunite
To rejoice in the moonlight.
Categories:
gawping, deep,
Form: Rhyme
The street is full of cell-phone zombies;
I’m grateful that my parents didn’t murder me,
and for other small blessing;
content to be this moving figure
In a badly sketched landscape.
Liquor store servers
always make a point of saying ‘have a nice day,’
they are professionals,
they know you are not buying all that booze
for a backyard party with your many friends.
The bookstore is lit-up like a Christmas tree.
It does not sell the kind of books I want to read,
my life story is out of print anyway.
The stores end about here,
the road wanders off into a more aggressively
painted cityscape
where well-chewed over words
are buried in gawping mouths.
I wish I liked this grey, spit-stained strip mall,
It’s not a mean place, just trodden down by
the weight and blare of too much festive trampling.
My inner Grinch is showing up, my jolly smile
Is stitched to a masked and hooded mind.
Going home I write these words inside my head
as if they had just now been spoken.
Categories:
gawping, poetry,
Form: Free verse
My auntie wears 'Bridget Jones' knickers
But last week at tea at the vicars
She’d purloined MY lace thong
It was morally wrong
T’was the cause of very loud snickers
My thong’s wedged between her butt crack
Stuck firmly between front and back
But it’s not a surprise
As it’s not in her size
There’s no room to cut any slack
Aunt waddles around like a duck
Like a chicken she begins to cluck
‘Yes I took her G-string
Get me out of this thing’
Stop gawping, help me get unstuck
The Vicar say’s I’ll get my pliers
On reflection it’s what this requires
The vicar doesn’t shirk
As he gets down to work
But after an hour he tires
My auntie’s visage is not pale
(Her embarrassment is off the scale)
When my G string gets cut
It pings clean off her butt
It’s a shame she’s the tush of a whale!
For a ‘sweet’ friend BB xx
07/22/21
Categories:
gawping, clothes, humorous,
Form: Limerick
All night unto dawn
a gentle sadness
a comforting...
there is a dreaming rain falling
it is younger than morning mist
it is the first and last teardrop
as the world recalls its ancient roots.
I rest in the backwash of my own ebbing waves.
My breath cleansed in the light-stepping rain.
Distantly I hear soccer moms backing-out of driveways,
the last moment rumpus of heel-dragging kids.
I listen as a mail van trundles-by,
hear it pushing messages into gawping spaces.
Trains merge with geese
in long slipstreams of sound.
Plants fold fronds and leaflets
while dripping blooms bathe.
All is well, all unspoiled.
The world is a child again.
It rains gently now within.
Categories:
gawping, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Nature held a Beauty Pageant
Guess who was crowned a crest?
A flowery green meadow was the stage and rostrum
Watch who won the contest.
Well, the peacock from India was crowned beauty King
The bird of paradise from New Guinea became Beauty queen.
And last but not least was the Indian tiger, runner up
But care he for beauty that he might as well sup?
And what care any of them
for accolades, crown or cup?
Other contestants were the gorgeous leopards
and the flimsy beauteous butterflies
They'll be crowned
next time around.
For beauty tis rich in supplies.
But nature-lovers alone applauded the flamboyant winners
who gaily stood upon the flora
They did come out with 'flying colors'
Around them nature's beauty an aura.
Miss world bird of paradise yet unaware of her placing
The peacock endowed by God a crown
They might never know of this showcasing
At our staring, gawping, they might just frown!
Then there are those unsung unawarded yet perfect beauties
both among mortals and animals
who join no display contests nor pageants
yet are undeniably glamorous nonetheless
for beauty ain't exclusive
to önly beauty contestants.
Categories:
gawping, animal, appreciation, beauty, creation,
Form: Tazkira