In the city of the living,
A place where all are breathing
Few miles away from the well-known barber shop
Down the road with an inclined slope
He laid down there underneath the bridge
Helpless, gasping for new air
The virus had long taken life from him
Only spared him his body and soul.
Dirt spread all over his body, he was a coal
He let it like that as he could not even skim.
Not to mention his hair,
as he laid there like he came out from a fridge.
Citizens had hearts of stone,
leaving him like that all alone.
Cars passing by, he was ignored,
they only laughed at the way he snored.
This had now become his life
It was his pain maker, peak of a knife.
Whenever he tried to wonder alone at night
Many knew he was up to no right,
Just trying to put food in his stomach
Before rushing to the hummock.
Categories:
hummock, community,
Form: Rhyme
The hummock
There is a hill behind the houses round and soft,
I call it a mother hill it welcomes you and murmur
How do you do?” and let you sit on a boulder
to enjoy the peace.
If you sit too long enjoying your sentimentality,
it wakes, the boulder gets cold and hard to sit on.
The wind suddenly blows, has a fragrance of Siberia and Vodka.
So, you walk around to keep warm and see wildflowers
hiding behind big stones.
You cannot pick them if you do? They will wizen and bring rain.
Walk gently now the aroma of spring is in the grass.
Behind the knoll, it is October grey and out of sight where no trees grow.
It is the mother´s hill burden concealed from the world.
Categories:
hummock, beautiful, blessing,
Form: Blank verse
On the sky's hummock
she is like a ziggurat;
a gardener of
stars who takes care of
their shining watching over
their sparkling glimpses.
My only hope that
maybe she intend to look
after our little
and unfortunate
star too. The dim one under
whom our love was born to beam.
Categories:
hummock, city, light, love, sad
Form: Choka
The Hummock
There is a hill behind the houses rounded and soft
I call it a -mother hill- and it welcome you and softly
Murmur, how do you do and leave you alone to sit
On a boulder and think how incredible life is.
If you sit there too long enjoying your sentimentality
It wakes you up the rock get cold and the northerly
Blow that has a fragrance of Siberia, reindeer and vodka
So you walk about to keep warm and see wildflowers
Hiding behind stones, but pick them you cannot they
Are not yours will wizen in your hands and bring rain
Walk softly now the aroma of spring is in the grass.
Just behind the hill a hillock grey as October fall, but
Out of sight and no trees grow on it scrawny side it
The mother hill`s burden which it bears with fortitude
Categories:
hummock, aubade, baptism, beauty, blessing,
Form: Sonnet
The Hummock
There is a hill behind the houses rounded and soft
I call it a -mother hill- and it welcome you and softly
Murmur, how do you do and leave you alone to sit
On a boulder and think how incredible life is.
If you sit there too long enjoying your sentimentality
It wakes you up the rock get cold and the northerly
Blow that has a fragrance of Siberia, reindeer and vodka
So you walk about to keep warm and see wildflowers
Hiding behind stones, but pick them you cannot they
Are not yours will wizen in your hands and bring rain
Walk softly now the aroma of spring is in the grass.
Just behind the hill a hillock grey as October fall, but
Out of sight and no trees grow on it scrawny side it
The mother hill`s burden which it bears with fortitude
Categories:
hummock, absence, age, analogy, anniversary,
Form: Sonnet
1
O, e’er she cometh and calleth me from the barren wolds whereupon lieth the first palpitation of the laconic exchange of bashful glances;
O, whensoe’er thy dulcet voice wafteth o’er the hummock, and thy throat trilleth for none but me, mine eccentric euphoria is celebrated by nature;
O, in the untrodden tryst wouldst thou palliate the passion of mine? I pray you, do love me, fair damsel, only because I really love thee.
2
Prithee, my ladie, my beautie, tell me wouldst thou fain love me? Knowest thou I am fain to gain thee, and hope I thou art so. Once hither thou camest and didst canoodle me, wert thou fearless and didst enrapture me. Thou , undaunted, snuggle’dst, kiss’dst , embrace’dst a swain. E’er thou wast fain to have me lain on the lovers’ crimson bed. And when dost thou bestow upon me the ancient ecstasy, and sleek is the cheek of my kingly belle, feel I relieved i’th’ glaring tryst, my sweet love !
Categories:
hummock, eulogy, love, romantic, ,
Form: Prose Poetry
on a hummock of Tane
he Practiced legerdemain
saw a girl
had to whirl
his trip down memory lane
Categories:
hummock, fun, funny,
Form: Limerick
Wild are the spring flowers which win my heart
wood violets blue, and those Johnnie jump-Up starts
waves of ajunta burgundy glow
pierced with lost daffodils standing apart
a gourmands delight admired a la carte
'mong seas of forsythia fences are draped.
Bushes of fuzzywillows looking smart,
cozy up to dirt roads soften the heart.
even the dandelions make a fine tableaux
as off I go my head spinning with art
to paint images, the sweet and the tart
expressionist posies, as if for VanGogh.
Indian strawberries dot gardens in beds
as buttercups yellow, slip through rye grass
tickled by warm winds and skies overcast.
Oh, I'm ready to paint the beauty ahead
with crimson, vermilion and titanium lead.
Sitting on a hummock I draw the repast
mixing my colors on a piece of glass
stunned by the wild flowers, most over tread.
*Dante's variation on the Italian sonnet.
Categories:
hummock, nature, daffodils,
Form: Sonnet