Ride a city bus or train
And you will get a sense
Of humankind of every strain -
Behold the evidence:
The old, the young, the thin, the fat,
The handicapped, the frail,
The homeless, jock or spoiled brat,
The baby set to wail.
The strollers hogging too much space,
The walkers inching past,
The bodies crushed up everyplace
Until your stop - at last!
You exit, glad to be outside
And grateful you can walk,
But that's the price you pay to ride
On transit in New Yawk.
CONTRADICTIONS
given the
presence
of connotations
perhaps
simpler
to list
the
delicate
diminutive
&
embrace
the barbed
serrated
&
prevalent
traditions
have access
to the
extraordinary
encased
with
narrative
siloing
in
directions
&
hogging
the
outlines
with
minutiae
measured
of
pleasured
pools of
reflected light
of
the
defiant
rewarding
revelations
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Punxsutawney Phil
a whole line in this haiku ~
hogging the limelight
When a change in your surroundings
Makes you mad or discontent,
You might question if the houndings
Of some friends did represent
Truths that you were blind to seeing
For your urban love runs deep,
So much so that you hate being
Without noise to help you sleep.
Yet when former subway users
Get that “lease a car now!” spark,
Their new autos leave us losers
With no place in which to park.
And when bikers meet for riding,
Hogging every single lane,
Central Park is, you’re deciding,
For pedestrians, a pain.
Though the city still has magic
And its praises yet are sung,
All these changes feel quite tragic
To New Yorkers not quite young.
Laughing inside I wiped my
Coffee rimmed lips
With my shirt sleeve
A cat drunk on cream
Finally at peace.
We all know
Days like these
Nothing matters
When nothing makes
Sense anymore
Questions don't always have
Answers. Sometimes we
Are faced with answers
We don't have questions for.
And then. You give up hogging
The control panels and let
Light touches on the joystick
Keep yourself from crashing
A little bit of free fall
Does wonders for the soul
Killing terror with terror.
Oh the safety net
If it exists
Is only our own minds
Bouncing back flexible
Trampoline.
The springy ground under
Our worn out soles.
So lick up the surreptitious cream
Upon the lips of life
Dream on
And share the dream
Laugh with pain
And pen the hurt
Till the quill is a surreal
Tool
And prophesies on its own,
Frenzied beautiful and devilish
Bold.
© Amrita Valan 2020
I have a octopus on my roof, yes I have the photos, I have the proof
He is not quite your regular octopus; he is rather dignified and aloof
He is eating bananas by the dozen, sent by a cousin from Costa Rica
He is just sat with his best friend, who is none other, than a cheetah
Yes, he cheats at cards, and drives fast cars, and dodges all his fines
To speeding down the freeway well over the speed limit sometimes
Both are blocking my TV aerial and playing havoc with the reception
And down on me they display their need to reflect their disaffection
With no David Attenborough on my TV channels, so both are dissed
They are glaring down at me as demanding, that I get a satellite dish
I am on the phone to the satellite guys with an order quick as can be
So octopus can go back hogging the sofa, as cheetah sits on my knee
Cotton fluff Frames the tree tops;
brother sun salutes a wandering sky.
Cardinal sits in the pear tree;
few are left of his kind.
A bright red visage on a green canvas.
Sipping mocha bliss is a delight amid blues and
greens of a Kentucky morning.
Grass of bluish haze carpets the land
once rich with tobaccos offspring;
white clouds against azure sky and
hazy blue carpet are a stunning display.
In the garden of produce delight sits a bunny;
explorer on a quest for breakfast.
He is not fazed by squirrels hogging acorns.
I sip my bliss and pray that Mr. Bunny does not become the breakfast of nesting hawks nearby. Squirrels often hold their own counter-attack, but bunny is an all too trusting soul.
By the completion of my bliss; bunny begins his;
lettuce venture resulting in a bigger batch of bunnies, moving into the neighborhood.
Some gardeners, prejudiced against bunnies,
would spark with fiery rage;
I don’t mind sharing.
Everyone must eat to survive.
If I have to move on/regardless won’t lose myself/ alarming like Charlie Chaplin/took a while to get a reaction/ hogging the role of who loves me the most/narcissistic or action figure/ we all gotta grow /if I turn Muslim would god give me stories unmask the beast Goldie Israel black Wall Street I’ve already done it/double up everything it/charge the game up/ any ring or trigger finger could give a who’s with her/blow abbreviations misses don’t be a roach and get caught up slipping /sacrifice me my conscious high jacks anybody/ in a regular mood had insecurity issues/ it’s strange how valuable food/ digest in your system/ get it?/give to charity more and you increase overall income/ over your shoulder cuz facts will target your feelings/turn to gadgets and drown all your freedom. its bull how now your awoke/suddenly just a victim/ opportunity goals position I team up/ the youth looking good/ first look at yourself and then lead them. I’m drinking a lot more but I blaze the weed up/ I sleep less all my battles keep me edgy/focus fines
My childhood daydreams much like any boy's,
to be an astronaut or fly a jet
enact their daring exploits with my toys
dreaming a life like people I'd not met.
Holding a tennis racket at chest height
before a mirror, swaying at the hips
imaginary rock star, hogging the limelight
the latest chart songs streaming from my lips.
But age brings less desire, more thankfulness
for all, no matter how little, I've got
when so many around have so much less,
thank God for who I am, and what I'm not.
The years unfold, those daydreams left behind
just daytime TV for the human mind.
I know that is my special day,
But I’m writing this just to say,
Thank you from the bottom of my heart,
For all you’ve done from the start.
You make my life ten times better,
I hope you know this from my letters.
My birthday is not the same without you.
I miss all the little things you do.
Like waking up and squeezing me,
Making sure yours' the first face I see
Today I miss you just a little more,
Even the bed hogging and your snore.
I cannot wait to have it all back,
Not sure how much longer I can hack
Without you here right by my side.
When you left a part of me died.
200 days and counting down
Until you come and replace my crown.
Return to your Queen on May the 8th,
My King, please come and restore my faith.
Can I have just one? we'll take this in baby steps
Nevermind the bravado and holding up your rep
You're hogging them all, won't share, that isn't fair
It's so easy to say, now do it stare upon stare
You say you don't care, let's take it to brass tacks
I'm giving you flack, for acting like that
If you give a damn, it proves you're a man
Not taking a stand against something we can't understand
A soul tarnished can still be polished to a bright shine
Anyone can do it if you're in the right mind
Saying you don't, and saying you won't
In a meme or a quote, it just doesn't float
You've sunk your own boat, how long can you swim?
Before the sharks or reality finally sink in?
I found a bit of poetry
tacked up on a door
while wandering through the halls
of the latest-greatest war
So I scootchied up my dungarees,
and with squinty eyes I read,
“If you can read this poetry
you are likely dead.
Because there is no door here,
nothing written on a gate,
the poem which you are looking at
is nothing but your fate.
‘Cause the hogging hungry war machine
run by grinchy greedy men
has an appetite for carnage,
which seems to have no end.
Chaos is it’s business,
making bucks for those,
who’ve no regard for living things.
That’s the way it goes.
By turning life to death
(the basics of their plan)
they pad their purse and pockets
just because they can.”
I thought I thought a thought
(or, I guess, I thought I did),
“Before the latest-greatest war,
I surely wish I’d hid.”
I learned skills for making kills,
but two things I abhor:
those kills which give folks thrills
and the latest-greatest war.
My wallet has credit cards
And my I.D.
(My license to drive
With a picture of me.)
My library card and
My store discount stash
Share limited space with
My limited cash.
Insurance I.D.'s,
Safety pins and receipts
Nestle next to my photos,
Such room-hogging treats.
Appointment reminders,
My pass for the Zoo
Stretch the leather along with
My Garden pass, too.
Add a band-aid and stamps
And a bunch of loose change;
When I take out my wallet,
Folks look at me strange.
I bought a small pocketbook -
Thought I would try it -
But first off, my wallet
Must go on a diet!
8:55 3 Nov 2014
Cold snowy day
Wind blowing the heat away
Fire in the stove is hot
Bringing a whistle from the kettle pot
Dog is hogging the rug by the fire
I see my love in the kitchen and my heart fills with desire
A quiet day as creation snuggles in
Keeping warm the best they can
Playing games enjoying hot drinks
Not worried about the cold or what anyone thinks
Yes it is cold and nasty outside
But love is growing and keeping things warm inside
I am in my house,
With a panicked mouse.
Coming back from the fridge
Going through the sand-ridge
Into its hole in a jiffy
Then squeaking out - Yippee !
Then come two rats
With a hard pat on the back
Running along with its mate
Making things obfuscate
Around the bagful of nickels
Crossing the jar full of pickles
The rat and its mate came back trotting
With a block of cheese that was rotting
After some time in a line
Came a parade f rats and mice
With and hats and lice.
Everyone was mournful
But a mouse eating a mouthful
Who was happy and glad
Was making everyone sad.
He ate with nosh
Wearing a hat that was posh
After hogging and stuffing
He got up puffing,
Ready for his quest
Sqeaking good bye to the rest,
He leaped across a runnel
And ran into a thicket
Never to be spotted again.
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