Election Time
The winters are long even when
Someone is singing a song without
A clock that goes bong regardless of
The temperatures anywhere in the country
Election time is seldom right on the dime
except for always being the same month
Every year which is when our spears
get stuck in frozen trees
If only there was a way to vote from boats
While boiling some oats as our coats hang
Above our fake goat but no matter where we
go or even vote we will forever be Americans
By nature
Contest: The Logic of Longing
Sponsor: Ink Empress
Granted. I may be getting old and grey;
And I know that things are different today;
And the culture is flowing another way;
And some things are in disarray.
But there is something that I must say.
Some fundamentals must be allowed to stay.
It does not pay To be LOVE-DRUNK ON DESIRE.
The cost could be very pricy and dire.
Why should one get stuck in the mire?
Or get one's self entangled in wires?
Anything that has the word love attached
Should by all means have a sobering dispatch.
I’m chocolate kisses in mid air
Lillies get stuck in my licorice hair
Not a beauty by American standards
But I intrigue courters and enchanters
I like to fancy myself a purple poet
Though my muse is often stoic
He dangles ideas above my head
Just out of reach making me beg
For one hint at greatness in a night
A song a poem the world’s delight
But I’m stuck in maroon mediocrity
Sailing to blue moon from black sea
My mind searches for results,
Often at multiple times a day, like a dictionary, one may say.
I ask to define depth,
Something I can get stuck in for hours,
Whirl pooling blues, greys, even greens,
And just the odd streak of brown,
And endless darkness at the centre.
It’s something I am willing to search for again and again.
I ask to define soft,
Rougher edges of a pretence of harshness,
Melanin and melanin-lacking hay carved so imperfectly,
It tells me that I would sink within it if I were to indulge in you,
I shake my head and red appears when I do so.
I ask to define perfection,
And I receive nothing.
I ask to define target,
A framework for what we should all be,
Tender kindness that I am reminded of so often,
Unending ambition that I look forward to with a sickening sigh,
As your silhouette is what I have received.
It tells me to pursue you,
Something I will never do, but entertaining the thought is not so bad.
Your eyes, your softness, you.
That is the result of perfection, or what I know it as.
When in the U.S.A., and morning has broken,
'I'll fix breakfast,' are the words I heard spoken.
In reply, I would say, “To the kitchen I'll repair,
mend the coffee and, then, when I'm there,
what's more, I can restore the trash within our dustbin,
just refurbish the rubbish, and take it out, or leave it in.”
Altho' I tend not to be hungry, I've been supine all night,
yet I'll savour the flavour of her fine earthly delight(s).
Get stuck in and tuck in, with gusto, for a fry-up,
as 'shrooms, eggs, rashers and toms will all soon dry up.
But bring on the best of British brekkers,
black pudding, bangers and beans,
as bubble and squeak speaks to me,
if you know what I mean(s).
In younger days we booked a trip
And never gave a thought
To reasons we might cancel
And what refunds would be sought.
We rarely took insurance,
Health was not a big concern
And we never worried ‘bout the need
To suddenly return.
But age has made us cautious;
Carefree travel makes no sense
And by reading all the fine print,
Suddenly I’m on the fence.
Do we take a chance and go
Because our time is ticking fast
Or get stuck in the minutiae
‘Til the options have all passed?
There you are exposed to the lick of a big tongue
Even though you are a soft green which is beautiful
Away you go on your journey to another country
So much farther than you could go in real life
Maybe Luna Moth Stamp you will end up in
Paris, France or The Neverlands
Made from a high-resolution digital print
By the artist, Joseph Scheer
Such softness to the design
Soft brown, sunshine yellow
In a gentle curved style
I'm reminded of the morn when one lay dead on drive
Captured in print you can live on and on
Travel the world and maybe someday
Space travel will complete your journey
Or you might get stuck in a scrapbook
Luna Moth USPS Stamp life has much in store
Giorgio rode his red Ducati to climb a mountain
without a helmet to protect the fragile brain
from damage, then all sirens started wailing
as if an earthquake or a hurricane were coming!
" They won't catch me because cars
can't ride mountains or steep hills,
they get stuck in between rocks."
A large crowd gathered below, they yelled,
" Don't crash into big trees and break your neck like Bill did;
your dad is furious about the terrifying news and brandishes
a leather belt. Cops get out of patrol cars but soon realize,
climbing will give them a heart attack and called it quits!
Riding without a helmet may cost a precious life anytime,
use your noodle: motorcycles are more dangerous than cars;
I've seen dead bodies across highways to be replaced by crosses,
don't be the next victim and be listed in the obituary of the Enquire.
Giorgio found his hiding place in a small cave,
where fat, chittering rats roamed and snakes chased them for food;
he shivered and called his mom, she never came
to rescue him: his fear was worse than wrestling an enemy in a feud!
So when you are in my life.
And you have created a map with a star on the destination to your heart.
Know that I might get lost on the way, missing billboard signs and road signs.
But most importantly, missing exits to return home to myself when the traffic jams and honks are too unbearable to get stuck in.
Sometimes others' destinations to their hearts aren't always a road you have to travel on if it requires you to take roads you know aren't safe.
Love me like you only have 3 hours to live and I'm 5 hours away
Let your heart listen to my dreams, so you can hear me serenade you to our future
Love me like yes, you can have the last cookie, and I'll give you my whole heart not just a piece
Because heaven shared you, so earth is my slice
Let your words affirm me when my wavering thoughts get stuck in the tides at sea
Love me like time can't be taken for granted and watch how much more you can see
Let your hidden words shower me and I'll wash the places you can't reach
Love me like the reaper on a Harley because I need a ride or die
Let’s go beyond their comprehension
p.s. adventure is at the corner where love awaits...
Why is a word that can cause an argument. Why do I get stuck in the my head? Why do I have labels on my skin? Why are you being so dramatic? Why do talk that? Why aren't you happy? Why are you happy? Why do ask so many questions? Why can't you be like the others? Why cant you sit still? Why don't you just shut up and get over it?
Why would you say that? Why is he doing this that to me? Why won't he stop? Why am I wearing clothes associated with my age yet he sees me as an adult? Why is this a tradition? Why is it common? Why won't she be nice to me? Why won't she just love me as a sister and not as a punching bag a reminder of the past the face she saw crying in the back as the show goes on!?
Why do strangers get the love of a blood when I get the fat that's collected when separated!? Why do I have to yell the same only to be met with confusion expression and laughter? Why do I get the feeling of being selfish when I always had my self and why do I have to be the bigger person with smallest number out of three?
I guess the biggest why is ( why me?).
You shut me out as if I did some crime
All I tried was to share my thoughts
But all you did was just leave me on read
now it feels our relationship is dead
My heart is aching as I feel unheard once again
Misunderstood and not allowed to express
As if it was better to be born mute
Cause silence in this world is perceived as cute
I am longing to reach out and connect with you again
But I know if you pull away again, I shall not be able to take that stress
May be for now I shall disappear in oblivion, but deep inside I scream “ don’t let me go so far "
That my love for you will get stuck in a limbo,
please lets communicate and "raise the bar"!
"'If I'm the world's biggest failure
Does that make me a success?'' -Peter Dome.
Life is a series of stepping stones
A challenge we have to face
Each every day
We try to keep our balance
Winds may blow us over
We either make it or we fall
Obstacles may get in our way
Sometimes we don't make it at all
Many try to live their lives all at once
And trip over
It's hard if we try to get
From one step to the next
Blinded by darkness
We have to be careful
If our feet don't know where to go
So we take a breath
And go real slow
Sometimes our feet get stuck in the mud
We struggle with all our mite
Or we find ourselves in quicksand
And we lose the fight
I have accomplished nothing.
Yet.
I keep on dreaming.
Though some of the dreams
slowly get stuck in the deeps
of my wrinkled face.
That keeps on smiling,
to avoid the talk.
today you can still see
although more wet you can get
you get stuck in snow
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