A detour, from off her time's
Shop-haggling usage.
Aligns with, through abuses
Working for a wage.
Snaps one back again, into
The old pleasantries.
Child's childish; with these about;
Hoppers; winged for bird!
And for rooks, as rantors heard!
Fun, fun parodies.
We dickered and haggled the vendor and me
The price I wanted to pay he could not see
Fifty US dollars is my final offer, I said.
I’ll keep it he replied; probably until he is dead.
thin moon hangs in the blurring light
when the red tape of work ends
day's end
before darkness darts onto idling pillows
a too slight shine to navigate the strain of living
wounds unstitched
like a heart unhealing from over-crowded transgressions
a feel that's too familiar
nestled in the treads of tired
where we can't always control the skidding
crescent moon
dangling, unsettled in the sky
shrunk in a sparseness of graying
pinched edges from a light threadbare
unable to lift toil from labor's bones
haggling for some salvation
7th October, 2023. Israel.
“Shabbat Mourning”
the War commenced
with morning, rudely awakened,
unrest.
some say,
it has arrived,
the biblical Apocalypse.
some say,
not war, just another
haggling loose rabble skirmish.
Hamas
says,
“God is Great!”
Netanyahu
says,
“we are at War!
And we will
win
this War!”
everything over
before begun;
Winter is coming
harsher than
before
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Our enemy will pay a price the type of which it has never known,” Netanyahu said in a video statement.
What's fresh new delight could you
possibly
Have to offer onto me that I have not
yet had before
Or you have kept from me and
in your locker left
So pretty please now feel free
to go ahead and finish what you
started
Since you have just ever so cleverly
drawn me in and now have my full
undivided attention
As I am now more than a little intrigued to
know what indeed in fact if exactly anything
you have up your sleeve
So go ahead I call and let's see and
find out if you were bluffing after all
And whether or not I myself then have
anything to counter offer you back in
return with
Otherwise haggling then at that point
is positively pointless
As I have no cards left to play and the
only offer left on the table
Is the initial one you made i naively
choose to turn down
Every day I wake up to the cacophony
Of a murder of crows cawing on tree tops
As the sun emerges from behind the hills
They take to the skies in one and two,
Sometimes together in unison they fly
Cruise out in air like small boats
Though dark, they are the emissaries of light!
Never in the sky for long,
They land down and glide up shrieking
Flying from hedge to fence
Hopping from mound to plane
These noisy folks remind me
Of the haggling fisher women never silent
Cocking their heads to and fro,
They keep a watchful eye
Everything falls in their eyeshot
Picking up scraps and crumbs
And tit bits from garbage piles
They thrive in gregarious company
With dusk fall, they come back homes
Full of gossip and tales of travel
These ubiquitous birds of all seasons
Are the unpaid scavengers of the Earth!
Sept. 25.2022
A Flock of Birds Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward
Folks say I'm struggling
That I'm old and confused,
They don't see all the haggling
Which leaves them bemused.
My colleagues are wordy
My enemies too,
But my willpower is sturdy
As I'm all for the Blue.
If now a bit slower
Even friends I seem faze,
But post Trump the bar's lower
And that's my fail safe.
The Media's a pain
What's with the shouting,
I shan't play their game
Their continual doubting.
Then there's old Bernie
And his Marxists galore,
With their bone headed journey
To simply point score.
Republicans matter not a bit in my mind
Obstructive and loudly they wail,
But Politics taught to never be kind
So let them act up and sullenly rail.
As to the Trumpers, what can I say
They live in a universe all of their own,
Their partisan anger a cause for dismay
While the stolen election they relive every day.
When all's said and done I'm proud of my job
Obama's on side to bring me relief,
My one secret weapon to quieten the mob
Sharing the load to make my weeks brief.
haggling a huckster’s horse trade
ignoring imaginary ideas of Iodine’s
joyful jubilant jabbering jabberwocky
kibitzing kickapoo kindnesses toward Kelly
lambasting Lilliputin leprechauns leaving Larry
Voices raised in merriment and mirth.
The shouting and touting of wares
Bustling busily through the crowds
Baskets of fresh fruit and veg held aloft
Weaving and swerving to avoid collisions
Some standing to examine the stalls
Others haggling to get a good price
Friends in knots chatting ,exchanging news and views
Women gliding in their enveloping robes
Intent upon gathering the rations of the day
Colour,movement and sound,all blend into one whole
On this, the carefree glorious market day.
Unnoticed evil sliding among them
Eyes averted and tense
Until the thickest part of the throng
And then the mere flick of a switch
The boom,blast and bits of bloodied bodies
A stricken silence
Broken by the chilling cocktail of siren and scream
Would you take a dollar?
No.
Okay. Thanks.
Would you take a fifty-cent piece?
No.
Okay. Thanks.
Would you take a quarter?
No.
Okay. Thanks.
The haggler has no idea how to haggle really, the
vendor thinks, not realizing she gets more things for
a dollar, a fifty cent piece and a quarter than anyone
else in the world.
The buyer leaves with her dollar intact.
There is another garage sale two houses down, right?
Would you take a dollar?
No.
Okay. Thanks.
Would you take a fifty-cent piece?
No.
Okay. Thanks.
Would you take a quarter?
Yes. Sure.
Thank you very much! I love it!
I’ve watched the news turn into a reality show
of well-rehearsed melodramas, designed to sell time.
Alternative realities promote hate;
there is blood on our streets!
Politicians grift; everything revolves around
obtaining money and power.
We live in critical times;
our children's futures are in jeopardy!
Today, kids use the internet for companionship,
and friends are replaced by emojis and likes,
lacking any physical interface.
Global warming is absolute;
yet people deny that climate change is real—
and when proven wrong, they defer blame to someone else.
We're addicted to technology; it's the monkey on our backs,
and humanity may be the cost we pay.
We rally to false flags, forming groups of them versus us,
while worshiping the almighty dollar,
and haggling over the price of our souls.
Fearing what the future holds, I offer this silent prayer—
Lord, forgive us in our time of greed. Amen!
Baggy elbow
Whisking a wow
Flapping & flopping
Constrained by conforming
With ambition
Baggy elbow
Blowing a bow
Swinging & swagging
Hung from haggling
With normalcy
Baggy elbow
Trying a toe
Cracking & creaking
Tired from trusting
Itself
Ah, when men are men not mere fools
Then to be men means more than just
Dangling biological tools
Wise young women must hunt for clues
To find those few whom they may trust
Wise men who do not punt with fools
Care and crave those family jewels,
But palm them off if pawn you must,
Haggling the cost more handy tools
Don’t treat asses like they’re good mules
Asses get thrashed while mules stay trussed
Young women must know men from fools
Hearts and hands may both be cruel
Hard or soft likewise they may crush
Be wise: bad workers blame their tools
Beasts may prey, so may Beauty fool,
Betray their love, give in to lust…
Men and women may both be fools
Poor hearts, poor handling, blaming tools.
22/07/2016
Pale sleep awakens.
Another light scorns the earth
as crooked fingers lash down,
their jagged streaks slashed by
nagging pall puffs, shattered
by lofty white swirls.
Breath drawn in- then out,
burying itself in rusted, fallowed
dreams and nettled streams of
daylight bleeding through
slatted blinds.
Humming drones of life
whine along bustling streets.
Sphinxian machinery grinds
stone to dust, settling somewhere,
lost in a terra incognita- finding homes
in pink blushed skies, and seaports where
the smell of fish and oil hover over wharfs.
Market flowers wag brilliant heads,
seeking homes. Songbirds scold,
haggling over baptism in shallow basins.
Dead leaves rattle on pavement,
scratching destinies, left to southern winds.
The sun tips its hat to the moon,
and slides to an end...to begin again.
Battle of the Sexes??
Amorphous metrosexuals haggling over who’s going to hold the bags.
Sight seeing
Never ask directions of a man standing naked in a kayak
Hick up
Whiskey never asks permission of the permissive.
So sew
Thirty-three thimbles teetered on the table top.
Knothead
He drove the nail from one side of town to the other.
John G. Lawless
12/10/2015
submitted to – One liners 6,7,8,9,10
sponsor – Bev Smith
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