Half A Dozen Poems | Examples

thinking

go to bed  •think bemusingly of you
loop (cond) { tomorrow }
I rise in the morning,
jog an 8K  •thinking of you, wash up
drink some flavored, black coffee
watch the morning sun balloon
eat toast while reading a set amount
write my unique and uninteresting analysis
work on half a dozen, odd assignments
walk .8 miles to campus  •thinking of you
team up, with some older, uninteresting guys
interview a focus group, present dataset interpretations
walk .8 miles back to my flat  •thinking of you
eat while reading a set amount
go to bed  •think bemusingly of you
loop (cond) { tomorrow }
I rise in the morning…
.
.
Songs for this:
Falling Down a Wellby Jack J
Overtime (pt 1) by Mk.gee  [E]

Retired Traveller

I’ve finished with travels, for I can’t agree
With the reasons I’m discriminated
Won’t pay for the visa a notable fee 
Won’t wait in the queue of migrated
I’m blamed for the crimes which I didn’t commit
Stigmatized for a thing they call “nation” 
I’ve nowhere to go and I’ve no one to meet
My train doesn’t stop at your station
I may not be happy about it, but such
Is the case that I’ve to comprehend 
My dear foreign friend, I don’t know you that much
As you seem to know who I am
I’m lazy, incurious, spoiled and defiant
I live in the land of the snow
I’m a parallel world to political giants
That all of you are, as I know
Think better of me, if you can, for I’m not
Your enemy or cater cousin
Who dreams to come over with problems he’s got
To share at least half a dozen.

My Truths

"Half-truth and lie; six of one, half a dozen of the other. How about the whole truth?" - quote by poet.


                        I live and breathe my truths 
            as much as I speak them; I believe...
what I believe and I stubbornly stick to my convictions.
I believe Jesus Christ, my savior, died for my sins. 
                        I lack patience for disingenuous folks. 
What you give, you get back in the end, two-fold.
I express myself freely without fear of scorn or criticism. 
      I'm a coconut...tough exterior, soft on inside; gentle giant.  
            I'm moved by sincerity and thoughtfulness in people. 
                        I applaud courage, selflessness and humility.
Quasi-masochistic, i'm unsatisfied until I've bled to achieve an end. 
            One of the greatest things I've ever done; serving America. 
      Fatherhood has turned me into mush.
                        My most salient characteristic is my inner humanity.

Blueprint for Devastation

They interviewed the artist 
inside of her large blueprint mansion.
At one point she criticized America 
for being overtly materialistic.
Her painting studio alone, was large enough to
house half a dozen desperados...
but instead, it harbored dozens of giant unsold paintings.
I was amazed by how bright a person could be
but at the same time completely blind to their own 
devastating hypocrisy.

Far goes when love affair with gun

Grazing Trump’s ear gunshot when goes,
It nicks nation’s much-fancied nose,
World’s keen to know-- sharp ears,
Should things change in near years,
Republican romance,
Passion with pro-gun stance
Should slow, if ray of remorse shows.
_______________________________
Happenings |08.07.2024| USA, political
Poet’s note: This bullet might divide America more. For, four of the 46 presidents have been assassinated in office. More than half a dozen others have survived. Like Trump, democracy may survive, but will face some more fears. Violence can’t be vouchsafed, but if it causes the country’s love affair with gun a rethink, it will serve some purpose, if Trump be any wiser, any sober.

Black Powder Mountain

Just about a mile outside pyrite town
there's black powder mountain, forever looking down.
It has a grizzly disposition and a couple veins of mean
lightning licks the summit at every opportunity.

Some went up to tame it and vanished like a dream
some say they saw the ghost of an old Chickasaw chief. 

One night, a 90-proof bet got the better of me 
I quickly packed up some grub and a fifth of bravery
I brought my four-legged chum, for a little company.

We made our way through the speckled forest
waded half a dozen icy creeks
thick mist slithered up the valley
that night I prayed up a little fire 
to keep the ghosts from icing dream.

The night dealt nothing but jokers and spades
Something barreled through the forest 
to where the two of us lay.
My eyes were wider than the barrel of my gun
I fired off a warning shot to keep the phantoms on the run.

Imagination was beating like a war drum
and somewhere in the trickster's night
I lost my little chum.

I never made it to the summit and lost the 90 proof bet.
A day later, when I was airing out my tent...
out popped the feintest chant and a pale green arrowhead.

Vices

The refrigerator door opens,
the light illuminates the wine.
Still we just can’t seem to comprehend,
why we feel like crap all the time.

Don’t speak before our morning coffee,
just one more menthol cigarette.
Half a dozen donuts for breakfast, 
and all the sugar we can get.

But we go to church every Sunday,
though we might nod off cause we’re bored.
So we can tell folks we’re Christians,
and follow the words of our Lord.

We can interpret the Bible,
make it say what we want it to.
Does it say always love your neighbor,
long as they think the same as you.

The Blue Chisel

Way north of the mind, is where you'll find them.
A million shards of memories
trapped deep inside the blue ice
of a terminal disease, called time.

Grab your flaccid chisel old boy.
Try and rescue them if you must.
Release their lonely orphan cries
bore deep into their blue misty eyes...
Until hope turns to pyrite dust.
Bore in deep. 
Maybe taste a speck of sea salt-memory.
What was her name?
The one who made you crave her everything.
The one who could knead a jester from a king.

From a quarter century ago...
with half a dozen other ghosts.
She arrives cascading down 
the icy rut of winter's blush. 
Where you have no chance 
to ever make her cut.

Loud and Clear

Fiction.  It's not what it seems

but we can start here and 

I'll call them all dreams...



The eagle nodded 

so I'm good to start

I kept the nine feathers

and started on the stars...



" Annuit Coeptis "

it was written to see

that we are of God

and continue to be

"... hear ..."



are the Reason

for 13 layers



God made Knights

in half a dozen pairs

but it takes the light of days

to see them write here...



and if you start at dawn

you can make it to the sun... 

by One.



" ... it's detectable ..."

My agreement 

with Eagle

is proper.



So the Founders who are Fathers

came closer...



" Does she know 

about the other Omega...?"



It was a whisper

I heard in the Chamber

when Chance came in to claim me

but in the never which was ever after

he saw ...

that it was best 
to just leave me, write

" ... hear ..."





" ... 22 leaves ..." God said

and so I said to God, ..." loud and clear. "

Are Bats Blind

Must see an optometrist next week
Not saying I'm blind as a bat, but bats see better
The tiny type on TV... forget it
Don't know why they bother
Might as well be greek as far as I'm concerned
Oh for the days of my youth
When type didn't have to be billboard size
Such happy days they were
When stop signs were even difficult to read
How about that!!!
Almost hit half a dozen old people in one day
Started to record them... tried to set a new record daily
There must be something to alleviate the problem
OH GLASSES... RIGHT!
Forgot about them! Even Ray Charles wore them
And the success he enjoyed
Can you imagine bats wearing glasses
Optometrist would be flooding the workplace
So nuff said... going out to buy a better pair!

It's a Date

IT’S A DATE

I tried an on-line dating site to find a perfect mate.
I wasn’t getting younger, soon it would be too late.
I’d met with half a dozen but none of them seemed right
But I’d had great expectations of the one I met last night.
I sat there in the restaurant and watched as she drew near.
Alas, it was the woman that I’d divorced last year.

16th March 2022
Bitesize Poem No. 40 contest
Sponsor Line Gauthier

Some Deer, a Dog, a Monster Hill

They’re off! A half a dozen deer
Lept, racing up the hill.
For sure, it caught us by surprise;
An unexpected thrill!

We tried to remain motionless,
To hold perfectly still.
She lacks a certain discipline;
It’s not in Missy’s will.

It seems my little sledding dog
Then found me quite off guard.
Though she is partly Labrador, 
She played her Husky card.

She pulled and pulled and we gave chase
Seemed near a hundred yards.
Successful, straining ‘gainst the leash,
She tried to move my lard.

I much preferred remaining still,
I’m now a breathless, sweaty bard.
On her, I guess I won’t be hard;
We too are now atop the hill!

3-6-9 Hors D'Oeuvres

3's a crowd
A triplet,
trio loud

6 is a pair of three's
It's half a dozen eggs
A sextet strums to please
'tis the sixth planet, Saturn
Biggest score thrown on die
Perfect number pattern

3 plus 6, and 3 times 3 is 9
Months mum must wait for bub to be born
Number of lives enjoyed by cat, kind
Pluto's buddy out beyond Neptune
Riding on cloud nine, to the nines dressed
Stitched in time to save nine rags be strewn
In your possession, its nine tenths yours
A cat-o'-nine-tails metes a flogging
There it's done, 3-6-9 hors d'oeuvres

Halfway To Somewhere Else

[this was written to celebrate July 2nd, the halfway point of the year]


I've been called...
half pint
half wit
half awake
...and half a dozen other half-baked 
semi-insults that I have
half a mind 
to half-heartedly
ignore

I'm somewhere in the middle now...
mid-career
middle class
middle of the road
excess baggage in my midsection
dodging a mid-life crisis
I woke up in the middle
of a good dream

Told my friends I ran a half marathon
"so, you couldn't finish a whole one?" they joke
as I half smile
for some reason I half expected to be
half the distance to the goal by now
though the roadmap keeps changing
I'm happy to be
halfway to somewhere else

Sharla Feels Pretty Today

Sharla feels pretty today, dainty and girly.
Her pink dress is new, it has a built in petticoat.
The bodice is lined, and her tanned shoulders like it.
She feels as close to beautiful as she ever has.

“Do you want to wait until after breakfast?” Grandma asks.
“No, I want to do it now, when the sun is coming up.”
“Take some flowers then.”
Sharla stops by the garden and plucks half a dozen tulips.

They are pink like her dress; wet from the dew.
She is excited as she comes up the hill of the meadow.
It is a gorgeous day; the sun is outstanding.
May fifteenth, Grandpa Dick’s birthday!

“Happy birthday Grandpa,” she says.
The sun sparkles on his tombstone. 
The mica in it shimmers.
She feels him watching her, and she smiles.

A slight breeze lifts her hair a bit.
She hears his voice in her head.
“You have a gorgeous heart!”
She will never forget that.

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