I was thinking of travelling to the USA.?
But on consideration i visited a
Mc'donalds, its just down the street.'
I'm not sure on the meat? but i don't have
To eat.' I just soaked up the ambience..
And the plastic.? Well its fan-tastic..'
A cutural icon.? Of a world that loves icons
Is that religious.? A type of holy.? Or heresy? That is u-biq-uit-os.? Yet reflecting
I think the worlds always been fickle.' Its
Just there wasn't the plastic, like we are
Blessed with in the world of today.)
Holidaying in the Dominican for a week
Will sure do wonders for my psyche
Appreciating what we have and a whole lot more
Aside from the absolutely gorgeous
All-inclusive resort we'll stay in
Living conditions there are sad to see
But in spite of it all, Dominicans have a lust for life
The smallest thing makes them smile
A great big wide sparkling smile!
Will I be impressed? You can bet your sweet bippy I'll be!
Uptight North Americans could learn a lot from them
About what's REALLY important in life
As long as we have loved ones who care
Everything else just amounts to a hill of beans!<>
The sun is shining, and the sky is blue
The robin on an olive tree singing;
Chirp, chirp, chirp until it flew
I wonder what’s it saying?
School’s out, and the children are holidaying.
In an isolated field, the girl walks;
The paedophile had been watching
To lure her to his home with sweet talks.
The apple dropped and fell to the ground
By my feet, it has been crushed;
How long will it be around
Or from existence, it will be brushed?
From a distance, the lady arrived at a house,
With sophisticated clothes and good looks;
The old man waiting for her like a timid mouse
Later he paid her and another date he books.
From yesterday, continued today, also tomorrow,
Episodes in life pass, and more will be created;
As for me, I see events becoming deathblow
The thirst for evil it’s unbelievable underrated.
05/01/22
This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
With a call like a Kuia,
the wail commenced our ride.
Gently bathed by mighties
Marama and Matariki,
our path lay clear and bright.
Ko Te Tohoraa, the nurturer,
hikers nestled nicely by her nipple.
Strolling on with Te Tohoraa,
on a breathless yet perfect stride.
Honoured journeys
both near and far,
are lovingly remembered with aroha.
Memories remain with such sunny smiles,
and a staunch salute to
Te Tohoraa.
______________________
Ika Moana: Traditional name for a Whale.
Kuia: an elderly woman, especially a female relative or ancestor.
Marama: Clear, light, moon.
Matariki: Matariki is the Maori name for the cluster of stars also known as the Pleiades
Te Tohoraa: The Whale. Also, the name affectionately given to a 1998 Toyota Dyna - campervan that I recently had the utmost pleasure of driving (and holidaying) for 1300km. Hence this tribute!
Aroha: Love
Some holidaying Kissinger
And once intact passenger
Pays the miserable penalty
Of a crushed casualty,
The vehicle's life - snatching somersault
Not but any stretch his fault
The crucified, mangled car
One which had licked a distant real far.
The event after Kissinger's justified fears
of driver's flirtatious romances with the gear
And the satanic speed
It does feed.
Now, it's a shattered windscreen
Through which nothing ever would be seen
The journey choosing a new direction to hospital
With impatient mortuary:
The quickest employment of the digital
Affirming life's being a sanctuary.
Not at all free, our Road Accidents
For we had the fares paid before the incident
Man it keeps worrying
About the safety of Traffic Rules;
I myself, stop hurrying
The very minute drive start acting ' fool '.
On my return from London
Happiness of meeting dears
and then the pain of parting;
My longings fail to give up
to the things most heartening;
Back to memory lane ....
When Sun rose with tender smiles
and opening of those little eyes;
As giggles marked end of the day
with everyone draped in clay;
Those were the days ...
When we were purely at will
appetite of the chimney and grill,
Holidaying whole day through
with melody of lyrics imbued;
Those were the days ....
Then thick books kept us awake
getting up in the mornings late,
So many questions, how, when and why?
till curious mind rested to tunes of lullaby;
Those were the days ...
Time has flown, memories remain
over the years wasn’t tough terrain;
Colourful person turned to drip
solitude hits hard like a whip;
These are the days ....
My soul stays there
as I halfheartedly return,
Putting smile on the face
while those irresistible tears burn.
Written July 31, 2020
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
Intelligence
Knowledge
Ivy League
State Educated
Working Class
Upper Class
Held in high regard
Or a lowly security guard
Single Parent
Family of 10
Reared in a Pen
Holidaying in the Hampton's
Penthouse suite on the corner of 5th and Central
Bus commute to work
Or Chauffeur driven limos
And Broadway shows
Or pint of beer and salt and vinegar crisps
Hand me downs and a handshake from dad for a birthday gift
Can't buy love
Can't put a monetary price upon it
Its priceless
Everything else is window dressing
There are as many if not more
Unhappy wealthy people than there are poor
These woods are like a mother
putting all embers out.
Sweet wind winnows me out of
all secret worries.
As I dip myself into the woody stream,
tension termites disappear.
Throats of birds broadcast unceasing songs
like our FM station.
When a tribesman squeezes a honey-comb, I
ride my tongue up the palm.
My mind convalesces slowly here
under the foliage.
Fireflies fly out through the windows
of my skull.
Fresh thoughts are cooked in the seclusion
of the woods.
Shoots of dreams reappear, breaking the dried
pods of my memory.
I see the fossils of a paradise, which we had lost
under the past.
First printed in Poetry Nook Magazine, US.
Synchronised zephyrs are holidaying in giant zones. It is interesting to note that this experience is not an easy excursion. For such weight is waving and waving is not a noted duty for any passing shoal of cuttlefish appearing on a highway. To watch a duck eating a four course dinner and drinks is often an enlightening experience. But exploding beach balls can make quite a large amount of mess. Measure messages metrically. And so the talking tiger traverses a roped bridge bringing the lively little cakes. A centimetre chats to a kilometer. And static sailors are looking at the peas. Take no silvery signal box to a five star hotel. Ok then. Wear a silky suit then. Good. That should please a pantry pickle. Hahaha waving washing machine passing. Xxxx Broomfield brook xxxx dodecahedron zzzz
A dish issue is whether the verb forms a series of events containing two or three ingredients. Ingredients are often officially interesting when placed. And material such as Velcro is very very useful when balancing on a widespread bed of crockery. Well cook then. Worldy worldwide without waste. And a hare is never a problem when hopping through an abyss. Calibres of officialdom. Wow. No problem at a beach house and home and away for the weekend is fine but the other side of the United Methodist Church is the name of the first place of worship. Oh dare one meet a jackdaw in a cardboard car. Or a ministerial monkey. Holidaying hopping hippies have havens. And bend not over a crevasse as dangers stem from rock. And blades spawn from spacial secrets. Secretary then. A portly lady humming. Hahahaha and now a salty dew. Hahahaha and an additional android arguing. Hahahaha dare to swim with the dog. *** multiplication z
I was stuck in the back of a small car again,
Not enough air, raging heat, suffocating sun,
Thinking of physical exercise, freedom and poetry,
And of the French and their liberty run.
I spoke English sometimes with a speech problem,
But I always spoke French without,
So stars collided when a man on a motorbike,
Pulled up, and in French directed us with clout.
It was in Ibiza where we were holidaying,
Having persuaded mum and dad to go,
But being so confined in that car distressed me,
So I was relieved then, ‘cos French I did know.
When I journeyed out for walks on my own,
In my blue electric wheelchair so serving,
I had conversations with the locals in French,
And for me they were their smiles reserving.
A Belgium born lady of sweet refine
but an inspiration in all she overcame
emerging from the darkness of the war
to be a real star but always remain the same
Became a royal princess holidaying in Rome
this set her off to star like filming fame
Sabrina, Charade, Funny Face were four fav
her leading men hearts being cast aflame
Breakfast at Tiffany's set in Manhattan
places Audrey as the modern fashion icon
so many movies bringing rich acclaim
now just memories as Audrey's gone
Although a famous Hollywood star
loved her home among the Swiss
there her and it's beauty ideally matched
where Miss Hepburn enjoyed such bliss
A great lover of little children
did so much for those tragically poor
a real star with a human touch
Audrey an inspiration truly you are
(My tribute to my favourite star - Audrey Hepburn, who oozed class and beauty, who was truly humble and human.)
A cascoid on a pool table is often likened to a queen in a pan of noodles. How amazing is the flowing waters of the many taps. And when the moon rides a flower it can be said that the hands on a clock could spin rather rapidly. Although a sunshine sheath is awaiting a cattle train it is notable that numbers of herds alter dramatically so it is always wise to jump around carrying fifty nine canes, a flan of many colours, a large amount of curries (all strengths), a bowl of cereal, and at least ten fish forks. It is neither the time nor place for a peculiarly built rabbit to speak. And mind the senility of that vest top in a drawer and a bangle and a necklace often have great fun holidaying with a scarf. It is the tentacle of a great ancient fish. In a fabulously written historical college drinking its air. *** villagers view *** valour cavalry and bring two hundred speaking clocks. Hahahaha xx and bean *** collaboration collaborative colourings colliding's of spinning particles. Hahaha specification categorisation xxxxx ha
All your poems on this site are
automatically deleted in the event of;
1. Your death
2. You voting conservative
3. You just missing an ******
4. You holidaying in Clacton
5. You urinating on Buckingham Palace gates
6. You bringing the game of rugby into disrepute
I will never visit Clacton again.
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying am I amidst the valley of said sins
Such joyous commotions viewing children's fun
Seeing happiness abound in wondrous spin
But it's the nature of being here, knowing it's begun
Cotton wool clouds caught by grayed demons be
It's just a matter of moments that they engulf all we
Next morning I awaken to skies of deadened grey
In the distance funnels of evil rotate their dread
Swirling spiral vortexes never shy in their display
Their ignorance now shared delivered imbed
Such her power no prisoners she now portrays
Overturned cars, houses adrift trees now stripped
If such were to be human on a drug fueled trip
God, build me some mountains to surround this plain
Allow said sins to be attracted to forever dissipate
Never to allow grief as such, these tremendous pains
Their height being there simply closes the vortex gate
Lets learn from said angers that they never will again
I'm in the town called Tranquility absorbing the sun
Holidaying where am I, seeing parasols in lightly spun
.
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