Every day I thread my way
along high wire tightrope,
strung between:
promise and doubt;
resolve and quit;
hold on and fall off;
with a safety net set out below to catch me.
But, try as I must,
I can't get the hang of it.
I can't get to the other side,
without falling into the net.
The task is too taunting,
taut and daunting,
even when I use a balance pole.
So Here's the Rub!
Perchance to Dream!
Scrub the Net!
Hit me again this game
is rigged tell that fat guy
with the fat suitcase
to bring my money back
don’t you dare try to put
my money to sleep again
I’m awake my money is
awakened as well
what’s done in Vegas
stays in Vegas this is
Atlantic City that’s what
I said where’s my sponsor
don’t you screw with me
hit me again Sam sweetie
you looked so familiar
but you’ll get the hang
of it I won again
thanks Tony I was
getting so bored
give my chips to
Tony the ant
for the books make
sure Chicago is happy
Tony Spilotro comes
to mind this time of
year killed by the
Chicago Outfit
June 14th 1986
The bosses actually
let him say a little
prayer first .
Soon as you think you have it all together
A gust of wind knocks down the house of cards
I thought I was starting to get the hang of me but now I don't know which hand I'm playing
Holding a full hand only to get straight flushed down the toilet
The tissue is gone because I've been crying and blowing my nose like I'm sick
Well, I'm sick of you
So, sick I run right back to you
I can't shake this cold from the shivers of loneliness
And you're only a text away
Another road to you filling potholes with broken concrete
Feels like my heart is set in stone because it's hard to move away from you
Even though it's better for you...
I say to myself
Well, this will be the last time
Which is what I said the last time
Lying to myself to feel better about the poison I continue to digest as if it's healthy for me
Maybe you're good for me
Lying to myself
p.s. when are you going to tell the truth...
I remember long ago
Every year we would go
Northern Mississippi
a piece from Tupelo
Ackers of land
My childhood did know
Children of the daughters
in our grandmothers trust
every summer we spent
from before we could lust
picked peas by the bushell
and loaded hay by the bale
our first taste of work
in the suns regail
Hot we sweated
yet food we were supplied
an abundant table
we were never denighed
I milked the cows
Papa taught us how
Those old ways remembered
but not done now
Never could get the hang
of walking without shoes
one way the country boys
give city boys the blues
Put the jug in the freezer
so it would melt cold in the sun
run and catch the horses
was a way to have fun
When ever they had church
it was church all day
certian of the men
would pray and say
the verse of a song
while others drug
the moan and melody
Night would fall while
we sat on the porch
Wasn't enough television
to really have a choice
Papa never said much
cept mostly on his knees
right beside his bed
Before he'd sleep.
To follow the example
was ment for me
the bible on his lap
even though He couldn't read.
Anti-Poem – “At Pinks With Little Susie”
maybe if we hold hands the dizziness will go away
little susie be driving a ‘62 gray pontiac grand prix
she say driving is easy once you get the hang of it
tan nyloned legs caress the gas pedal with mettle
flying fast now she stops at melrose and van ness
susie say she feels sick and thinks it’s the roadkill
i just hit something bad she say it ain’t alive now
maybe if we play parcheesi all day it will go away
my problems be like sticky ants she say they stay
susie parks the pontiac in a shaded lot on la brea
she says she wants a pinks hot dog and a yoohoo
cool guys with duck tails and taps hang out there
their scarf-wearing chicks smoke filter cigarettes
susie thinks life is a vicious monster with no eyes
it just attacks and kills everyday and everywhere
susie say her hot dog tastes good tastes like love
will you marry me susie i says suddenly laughing
maybe if we marry all the bad things will go away
little susie be driving home now holding my hand
You will just have to teach yourself
one poor female victim at a time
for kissing is a dangerous occupation
for adolescents and virgins.
Angles and shapes have to be factored in
at lightning speed
before the plunge is undertaken.
The neck must be adjusted to height and
the trajectory of the pursed lips meet
as a natural occurrence
like two butterfly wings
brushing each other in flight.
On first dates
short-sighted rhino clashes
must be avoided at all cost.
Noses and teeth
will always get in the way somehow
just a fact.
In time, with much trial and error
the young will get the hang of it
and it's rather nice
in an often sloppy sort of way.
Eventually tongues are employed
in strange animalistic tasks
that they were never designed for
but in the heat of the moment
eating is often mistaken for kissing.
Go forth confidently then
you young men, but always remember
"though a kiss might be gentle
and oh so elemental
diamonds are a girl's best friend."
At night, he dons the mask, and closes tight his eyes.
He pulls back on the stick, and heads up to the skies.
The wind is whistling around the canopy.
Besides the panel light, none far as eyes can see.
His breathing’s somewhat forced, more than a little bit;
He’s told it will take time to get the hang of it.
He’s soaring through the clouds; he knows because the night,
Once filled with points of light, is strangely opaque white.
He smiles to think the fog is slowly rolling in,
For that’s where dreams are found and difficulty ends.
The autopilot set, he doesn’t fight the yawn.
Then tipping to the east, looks forward to the dawn.
Of late, I seem unable
To write a song or fable.
Perhaps it’s too much caffeine;
I seem to be unstable.
Now recently, I’m shaking;
My muscles have been aching.
I may be lacking protein,
Or maybe I’m just faking.
A certain strange malodor;
Those germs are all freeloaders.
Perhaps it is my hygiene,
My wife complained, I showed her.
Perhaps it’s too much caffeine,
I may be lacking protein.
Of late, I seem unable;
Perhaps it is my hygiene.
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Another of the 4 stanza poems where the 4th is constructed from the non-rhyming lines from first 3 and the first line from the first.
This one is 7 syllables throughout, so depending on the definition of a jueju, it fits that category, as described in "Dawn song".
It's also fairly stupid, just trying to get the hang of this 4th stanza as
a summary of the first 3...
I think love is a flare
We were beautiful and you were there
I wonder how much I can loose to you
The sun shined for the sake of our nakedness
Holding each other unto every ounce of space
And I thought you'd become bitter but only strength led you
Take your sword and bite through the edge of it
Maybe you'll get the hang of it
Cause I love the dark and you are the dark
It sure took me a while to get the hang of that bat.
The grip just wasn’t right.
With a friends’ help, I swung and hit;
probably, hundreds of times.
In the end, I felt that I could,
smack a mountain and send it sailing for yards,
with that bat.
Softball was a blast, when I was a teen;
Every swing of that bat; every ball that I smacked;
swelled my chest with pride.
A dusty slide into home base;
Jettisoned me into ego-space;
oh, it took awhile to come back down to earth.
There were, cheers from the bleachers
and the smell of popcorn,
hot dogs and soda pop permeated the air,
like a winter fog.
Perhaps it was those succulent scents, more than the cheers, that kept us winning.
Personification is my favorite poem to write.
I can fly to my nest and feed my eaglets,
or I can scare humans to death with my wolf howl.
Personification forces me to enter my subject's heart and soul
Not easily done unless you have experience, and enthusiasm for it.
I love this type of poem the best, for I have mastered it in some ways.
I have been a Sears catalog, a Merry-go-round, and a rabbit.
My pages, ponies, and carrot munching teeth show you this, right?
Personification makes me feel safe, flows over my dendrites gladly.
My muse gets excited and begins typing before I have time to agree.
I have been a pirate's parrot, and a Iron's spray bottle.
I have been a mountain range, and a mouse's mistress.
Once you get the hang of it, you may feel joy and excitement.
Developing more character traits like self-respect and self-control
is a mere sideline benefit. Personification. My favorite poetry type.
Come sit by me, we can write your first one together, my friend.
Get The Hang of Things
Once of things will finally get the hang,
Maybe you might start learning slang;
Knowing for sure,
And can endure;
Appear that you do belong to the gang.
Jim Horn
never hanging up
always being there
never will be used to it
welcome mat still shining
never hanging up
encouraging words forever endless
never will be comfortable with it
taking her coat anyway
never hanging up
eyes never rolling either way
never will get the hang of it
preparing her favorite adult beverage still
never hanging up
platonic chemistry intact
never will come close to loosening up
still cuts her cell phone off for the duration
Learn how to play Sudoku was recently asked of me,
Sure no problem I thought, how hard could it be?
I studied the grid of nine squares partially filled with numbers,
How do I get them to add up, I had started to wonder?
The more I looked at the page, the harder it certainly got,
To makes sense of the game, I most definitely could not.
After three days I gave in and looked at a beginner’s guide,
Read up on the rules of the game, that had to be applied.
Finally I managed to comprehend, oh how daft of me,
I had to fit the numbers into grids of three times by three.
It’s not really that hard at all, my understanding was a little restricted
Once you get the hang of it, I warn you it gets very addictive.
Love one another do
not stutter, say it
loud and say it proud.
Be renowned for love.
Let Lord Jesus pronounce
our words. The word is
true, the message need
not be confused.
Lord Jesus is in our hearts,
the message is “love one
another” love your neighbour,
show love to a complete
stranger.
Get the hang of this, even with
the slips and trips and life will be bliss.
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