cathartic Cathy cautioned counted cucumbers
distressing dungeon dragon’s delicate Dalmatian
effective Evie enthusiastically explained efforts
following five frolicking frisky French francs
giving grateful granny goose grumpy grits
handily helping Helena’s high hysterics
igniting illustrious iguana’s intricate ideals
I kill for tomatoes
if only they were satisfied
with some~ the fat, green
caterpillars --
Weeds seem always to thrive --
like children somehow in the
gutter – soil of the street
never needs tilling, or nitrogen
added, handily replenishes its own
filth and acrid scent --
Occasionally one ripe
with good seed is spared
both plate and gutter
then to be crucified
An isolated silhouette grows
amongst cowering greens as
an aimless impression yonder
trace mimicking lifeless postures.
Outlines vanish from the capture
as that raises a different outcome,
yet the instinctive mingling seems
to handily host its surroundings.
An uncomfortable challenge awaits
the undaunted souls whose remapping
and charting of the intriguing stranger
that disarms their unused weapons.
A laid-out weave of strong fibers and
the jungle gifts neatly covers it as a
large freshly killed Peccary lies in the
middle. Woosh! Snarls the elusive one!
"Pipeline: Hawaii's North Shore where Championship Surfing Meets are held, remains the deadliest since records began in the 60s."
Golden shores surfed duo gift essence new threshold,
History made two by sea,
Footprint holds their granule sunk traces, queues the bold,
Long woods wee came two by sea,
Boarders store their sea tools drift faces, cue behold,
Fantasy dreams two by sea,
Reckon calls pair home schools feet races fuel's the sold,
Handily swims two by sea,
Loop unfolds those who rules hunk intense corkscrew rolled,
Gone absentees are two by sea,
Fathom pulls remain cool surfaces, two consoled,
Breathing-free crawls two by sea,
Jettisons beached dual shift places cruise controlled,
Rest at ease lays two by sea,
Ponder hauls twain unspool whiffed graces schooled withhold,
Bended knees pray two by sea,
Covered boards bros no fools--but in case, 'Win the Gold',
*Pipeline be? Two if's by sea?
*HMS; Anapestic tetrameter.
Do you still set a place for them
At the dining table at day’s end
Handily polishing their knife and fork
And make with them the usual small talk
Do you leave their bed turned down
After putting on their favourite sounds
All those things they used to do
Bring a smile or a tear to you
But those were different days past
When you thought that it would last
And the things that you now recall
Keep them alive in your heart and all.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Hunger and roses
I have not spoken of Brexit find it trivial
False pride and old people thinking of was time
When they said, saved the world single handily
The arrogance of superiority is unavoidable.
The pampa is full of horses on yellow/green grass
If I were a horse, I would miss the forest.
Rowes of people wait outside a foodbank often
Overtired nurses who can’t feed their families
Skeleton looking pensioners hope for corn flakes
The experimental economy benefits the rich.
The apples, scented the kitchen,
Reminding me so much of Eden.
Odd, how we love this fruit!
That stands for ultimate disrepute.
Man's desire to be so dandy,
With souls hard as rock candy.
To topple anyone in our way,
At any cost, leads to my dismay.
Alas, seems our human disposition.
To avoid at all costs being an inspiration.
Just to win in any competition?
Destroying souls handily in a frenzied
human demolition!
Many Americans, at least it would seem,
Win Megabuck lotteries, inside their day dreams;
What will I do now, with all of this loot?
I’ll jet far and wide, like a Rock Star en route.
And yet, there’s a man, at the head of our state,
Worth many vast billions—no weak featherweight;
Who could have declined, to avoid all the grief,
But instead serves us tirelessly, providing relief.
THANKS to the millions—‘Deplorables’ strong,
Who saw his potential, and sang his theme song;
About Making us Great, restoring times past,
Returning jobs lost with fair trade deals—at last!
Yet mainstream ‘the media,’ despise you and peeps,
Their Deep State criminal, lost to your sweep;
MAGA did resonate—you won handily,
Our thin skin now thickened, by their blasphemy.
In the end no collusion—just more of the same,
Fake news by leftists, with HATE on the brain;
So thank you kind sir, and please drain that swamp,
A patriotic act perfectly befitting...
...#45, PRESIDENT DONALD J. TRUMP!
I have crushes like everyone else
what intrigues me is that I have no idea what they are thinking
conversations with them scare me because I have no idea what is coming next
this has obviously gotten me nowhere
it leaves my pondering are my feeling everlasting or just for the moment
a envious feeling occurs when observing other individuals who handle things quite handily
I would imagine I carry this weird aura clouding me, weird to other people and to myself
at times I don't know what to think of myself
but I hope my feeling are somewhat cute
Earlier in the day, dipped
into a little Thucydides,
and revived my memories of
Corinth and Corcyra.
Alliances and duplicity,
trophies taken and lost,
innocents slaughtered handily,
for revenge,
and thoughts of Syria
and Fallujah came to mind.
Things in THAT part of the world
don't seem to ever change.
Watched a piece on road rage,
recently,
about tailgating and cut-offs,
and stop sign stand-offs,
families killed in cross walks,
bicyclists crushed and
carnage sometimes for miles.
Ending with a well spoken
man in prison orange
who said he could do
nothing else, but
accept a single digit challenge.
Whose only regret was
that he had.
been there,
at the time.
sad eyes
from deep within
cold sockets
He lay there in silence, concealed for the moment
No movement now for about an hour and he had
consumed five cigarettes handily.
Geez he thought, enough already, give me a break.
Give me a patrol or something. The three or so men
he had shot earlier had finally stopped making noises.
“What is that?” he thought as light changed through
the leaves in front of his face. Leaning forward into the
reeds slightly he was soon almost nose to nose with the
big cat. He knew he was dead already, but he slowly
pulled out the revolver. The Bengal seemed to sense
the defiant nature of the young soldier. He was only
on the prowl having just feasted on a water buffalo.
Looking for a place to rest he was in no mood for
confrontation, so he moved on. The young man
mused on it for a while. Happy in the fact that he was
not harmed, yet visibly disturbed by “why not”.
truth floats
on the shifting wind
a higher power
By thirteen I was quite tall—
Five-foot seven—friends were small
Always tallest in my class
On school lines—was always last.
Friends were shorter, more petite
Always looked to size-up feet
Compare shoes, I do not fib
Was self-conscious—mine were big.
Their size five to seven, fine—
I was BigFoot! Mine was nine!
Teenage complex anguished me
BigFoot phobia, you see!
Later friends caught up with me
Height and feet grew handily
Soon size nine in grownup form
Looked upon as kind of norm.
Thinking back on “BigFoot” years
To fit in, drove me to tears!
Teenage stresses to compete—
Happy now with normal feet!
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
~3rd Place~
Contest: BigFoot
Sponsor: Skat A
Judged: 05/07/2015
Bless You, bless You, praise You Lord.
Thank you for Your holy Word.
I thank You that You’ve set me free.
I thank You for the victory.
You beat the devil handily.
And took his keys away.
You’ve given me the victory.
You died to set me free.
Bless You, bless You, praise You Lord.
Thank You for Your holy Word.
I thank You that You’ve set me free.
I thank You for the victory.
Victory, sweet victory
The battle has been won
Victory, sweet victory
With Jesus Christ God’s Son.
I Loved Her for the Dance ,
as moving and so becomely like no other.
She stirred Me.Thine faltered Angel's Stately Grace,
showed me once , such things with lone and whispered word .
soul spoke Anon's thrumming Heart a litany did bring.
A Grace that Felled My Daemons Grail aPt trick , it twere and twas .
Reviled now I see them clear , so Crystaline in Shame.
I loved her for the chance , within our times encounter. Infinitely so entangled by design .
So spirited and fractal , whirling while tender turnings did stream a River Blue.Caught handily so firmly there was a time I knew ,
such gravity , so raptured by a dragon .
Flown fast and for the asking for the firmly bodied lasting .
She the Tiamat d'amour woken fresh and born anew.
The Well of what begat this need of Mine now finds its Whetted Wantonness of Having felt the Hardness of This Longing over Time.This Quill of Lust that Pricks at Her awakened Thoughts that She Filled it With now Inked Deeply in Her Mind.Seeking so Hot and Handily to Feel Therein the Rub of it and Comely still so Covets it an Unexpected Lurid Knowing of what it Means , Now Feeling it , the Thrust of Barely Just the Tip of It So Hotly Held in Hand its Urgent Need To Plumb the Depths of Her at Last so Breathlessly Comes a Need to Grasp the Length and Breadth of What The Quill was Made For That Which is The Same as What it Always Was.The Quill of Lust Still Filled With Needs of Hers now Soon to be Fulfilled in This Well of Knowing it so Intimate as it Fills the Place She Kept from it.So Deeply There Inside.
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