Hannah’s handiwork heartily hailed in on Halloween
hackneyed and haggard, but not easily seen
Her hagridden hawk hovered over his holistic queen
Half-witted husband was as fresh as grass is green
Happy-go-lucky hag’s horrific hallucinations were keen
Haphazard hardships harmonized with her cousin Jean
Hannah’s harebrained ideas could easily turn mean
potential for hurried hasty nastiness on this Halloween
Euphoric, I rush to you, Lord, unaware I'm naked.
In your presence, my physique and psyche are elated
On my way, I trampled them—thus my kith and kin complained.
In my mad, single-minded pursuit, had I gone harebrained?
Am I a rebel that I've given up all social norms?
Drunk with your thoughts, have I forgotten all gregarious forms?
My home and all within it, seem to me nonexistent.
In my sleeping and waking I've become inconsistent.
I'm filled with hallucinations of heaven day and night.
With devils and furnaces, in my nightmares, I often fight.
I feel your Spirit flowing like a stream and washing me.
From my sins of commissions and omissions, I rise free
Transcending each mundane infinitesimal dharma
That fetters me in a birth-rebirth cycle of Karma.
Like a mad mullah or like a crazy priest of Allah
In each drama, am I not seeking you, the Param Brahma?
“HAREBRAINED”
some females are fickle.
there's a boyfriend every
other month.
it's always the same ****
inside the same changes:
smiles where there were
none.
new clothes where there
were none.
makeup where there was
none.
hairdos where there were
none.
quickly followed by new
words where words never
existed.
it is new, happy and smeared
with the fresh scent of new
love.
for those of us who have
lived,
for those of us who watch
the boyfriends come in and
out according to the needs
of emotion and sexuality,
for those of us who watch
the riding of the horse,
for those of us who have
seen the fall before,
we know the next fall is
right around the corner on
heartache street.
soon the smile will go,
soon the clothes will be a
defining point of laziness,
so too will be the lack of
makeup.
the hair will return to it's
careless state.
the words will become less,
down to none.
the smell of **** will fill
their noses as another love
lost, enters their log book
of failed loves.
grab a seat.
the show is about to
start.
By: Chicano Eddie
10-5-2016
================================
Hiding in the shadows, there
at the corner of my eye,
I am slowly made aware
there is someone else nearby...
"Who is that?!" I bellow then,
"Hiding in the shadows there?"
"I've no use for boogeymen!",
I yell into empty air.
One more sheepish peek I dare,
feeling harebrained to have thought,
hiding in the shadows, there
was some scare that there was not....
But my heart begins to race
when that cursed glance I spare,
suddenly reveals a FACE
hiding in the shadows there!
================================
Need I ask what dreams are made of
or why they enter in slumber.
One can dream during light of day
when brain needs rest from encumber.
To sleep perhaps a chance to dream
alike words of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”.
Dreams free souls from constant worry
giving strength within to forget.
Dreams are meant to achieve, strive for
when a longing heart learns desire.
Whether it be of human sort
or an idea to acquire.
Verve is what all dreams are made of
to probe uncertainty beyond.
Dream on with your most harebrained dream
but do not forget to respond.
Copyright © 2012 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Written: 7/29/12
Eighth Place Winner ~ "What Dreams Are Made Of” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Merryman
Sept. 1, 2012
Auburn lady envious of the blue night with its gleaming, capturing stars;
those rare diamonds, belonging to the silent and vast Universe,
you've stolen to adorn your undulating hair,
brushed by the July's harebrained breeze,
so temptingly soft and adorably fair;
if no admirer or lover seeks you, can I offer you my first dance?
Your melancholic look is fixed downward,
and you refuse to look above, nothing excites you tonight;
your external beauty cannot be resisted or ignored,
and will an harlequin, in his vividly colored costume, make you smile?
I'll play the flute brightly and make him dance to cheer you with his wit...
until your sadness leaves no sign on that sad face!
The shrill sound of the crickets can darken your spirit; listen closely, auburn lady...
sing along with the blue night, while your musical tones become the chords of my harmony!
Inspired by Edward Robert Hughes's painting: Night
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Pursue the pursed lips
Of woman with scarlet heels
Intricate design of appeal
On rounded bodies sexily dressed
With naked treachery in their porcelain faces
Let me laugh away your harebrained actions
My dear, my dearest, fool of a man
Unlock your gaze from my arresting truth
Rising upon the pedestal on which I stand
For I am the ultimate
Source of your discourse
That occurs between the beast in your heart
And that angel in the looking glass
Violate my heart again and again
I’ll still smile
For karma is my best friend
Big red buckets and yellow elephants
Standing on mice wearing pink flared pants
Oil filled puddles of many rainbow hews
And crocodile upholstered chapel pews
Armies of platform shoe wearing dogs
Wearing wigs made from living frogs
Thick carpets made of real living fur
That when walked on emits a soft purr
Deep swimming pools of strawberry jelly
Hand painted sandals by Botticelli
Gold plated gloves and silver shoes
Invisible paper for reading the news
Custard foot spas and florescent trees
Serviced by an army of giant bees
Giant bales of pink sugar-candy hay
Drenched in a honey flavoured sun ray
Glow in the dark butlers and purple maids
Liquorice flavoured garden sun shades
World domination through sensuous massage
A herd of wild hippos kept in the garage
My day dreams contain the silly and daft
Strange thing blow through on every draft
My mind is cluttered with harebrained schemes
But every single one of them sparkles and gleams
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