I know
you're wondering
who's really
pulling the strings
Puppeting things
unbeknownst
to you
The lines between
the lies & truth
are blurry
They hide what's true
in a hurry
to blind you to
the weight of the storm
You're beneath
a bevy of flurries
that weigh more
than imagined
The reality is heavy
& I imagine you're
looking for answers in
all the wrong places
Empty spaces
where clean mirrors
used to be
You can no longer
glean a clear reflection
due to all the
dirty projections
Harsh lessons
being taught in
the dead of winter
classes
No one passes
in the thick of it all
unless you're shoveling
your fastest
Watch as snowballs
metastasize into the size
of glaciers & roll before
you've had a chance
There's no running from
this avalanche no matter
where you go or
what angle you take
I suppose
they want you to
just accept your fate
& make a snow angel
I let the clock tick away
as if it were my choice,
it is a silent voice,
the years have now gone to decades
passing all too quick
while back in the early days
I felt in the thick of it;
a child waiting on the age to pass,
a teenager wishing it would go fast,
an adult working for the dream,
a middle-aged king or queen,
a senior citizen wakes
older now,
aware of the successes and mistakes
retired and still questioning fate
along the hour hand
within seconds of the clock
living between the tick and the tock.
PythonPotamus, "Abaddon" Quetzacoatliciously rises from the pit.
Helliopolis' ruins remains; "in the thick of it."
Ra, "Familiars the breeze" a God-imposter, sedicious, piece of Set.
Set Ing the diodes of scene.
All the same, on demand-
quid pro troll for human sacrificing...
icing in their assumed, -
exhumed names of representation-glands,
Idols in strange hands.
Decorating blue,
filling with strangers to one's own land.
Paradise Lost, seeking ills, -ills, ill gotten gains.
Kismetic Frosts relations
of cover-incestuous-religions
summoned in symbiotic trends,
of the means of the end.
On Alien soil, Ra, soon to return
to asphyxiate freedom's change, of wind,
whisping death's-bloom.
DeCoffinated break, drink !
Skywriters, Contracting...
Watching in aiding abetting, the elites.
The discreeted
scuttled upon the otherworldly-
Chariots called PleasureCrafts and Triremes and Juggernautivity Nets.
Lasers to strain in loom, everything you say or do-
you... buy, sell, eat, drink, breathe, think?
Utopia, Trojan Whores Riding a Beast.
My hair was thick for a moment
My heart was thick for a week
My love is thick when you want it
Though afterwards, I can't speak
If you won't come by the bedside,
You can still come to the back door
There's all kinds of fish in a red tide
And a hopeless few still down the shore
Everybody's dealing with sickness
Nobody knows any cure
The worst kind of debt is thickness
Against that, no one's insured
The red meat is thick in the middle
The dark meat is thick like the past
They're now thickening individuals
I guess so they're fit to be gassed
If you find that you're in the thick of it,
Maybe you'll be amazed
The plague don't care if you're sick of it
And God lets you know when He prays
Thick as thieves —
Thin out the herd —
Isn’t it funny
How the line between thick and thin
Is often blurred
You know I’ll be yours through thick and thin
I won’t fly out the door when the money rolls in
I’ll be the singer you always wanted
I’ll be the glamor you never flaunted
Time stands still
in a tranquil spring afternoon
how invigorating
to be in the thick of it;
far removed
from the roaring hustle and bustle.
I'm imbibing moments so peaceful.
The ambience...
couldn't be more serene.
A roaring wind now calm,
as if asleep. The birds are quiet;
all flying mute...
under the canopy of the heavens.
The faint whispers of rustling foliage,
so relaxing.
What a wondrous day!
Submitted for...
Writing Prompt - Calm - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date written: 05/13/2021
If this is where I leave you, I deny
the moments of our last goodbye
let the tears fall fast and quick
without restraint or a walking stick
we once were well mixed, love bound in the thick of it.
I have loved you always and forever
moments of our times of joy and pleasure
never truly yours, just a point measured
realizing I never once possessed you,
you were never mine, how well I knew.
Let me hold my breath a moment
pausing, as I breathe the end of our atonement
take your time to reminisce about the old days
years that lagged in the sadness of our life play
and each of us can leave, to go our separate way.
For a moment in the thrusts of passion
a memory of love has come and gone, not everlasting
insecure and disbelieving in a soul mate's bond
life begins to slowly move along
once yours, I am no more.
Brian Dtrand's contest
All Yours 2/9/21
Written By: D. Collins 6/30/20
Sometimes people underestimate how much you may know.
That's when you sell your skills just like a $2.00 'Ho.
Drop down to their level in order to raise them up.
Describe what you know, until they've had enough.
Sell your skills, young man, its just like going west.
Instead of finding gold, the world has found the best.
After this pandemic, it is going to be extremely hard.
In line with 47 million to find a decent job.
Those kind of numbers just do not bounce back quick.
Then try to imagine we're not even in the thick of it.
But, when it all shakes out, if ever it will.
Express your knowledge, and highlight your skills.
IT's a pandemic you twit
your decisions should be in the thick of it,
but alas,
you barely fill the glass
only proving my first thought as you pass
what an a...
Being presidential
must be circumstantial
and every word you utter
slips into confusion poorly buttered
unkind and harsh in the gutter
go to the course and putter.
Shine your horns
if only you could be a beacon in the storm
yet your present id is ever diminished
by yourself trumpeting endless and unfinished
causing every word heard to be felt with grimace
blow the trumpets, beat the drums and leave us.
Yes there are
The teacher who cares
The fireman who dares
The police who simply just do
The nurse who won't tire for you
Yes there are
The vet who burns the night light
The doctor who makes it right
The carer who's word is more than alright
The volunteer who won't quit
The social worker who'll make sure
The friend who'll stand by you
Yes there are
The soldiers who'll protect
The sailors who'll defend
The airmen who will not quit
when they're in the thick of it
Yes there are
Good people in our lives
Good people with no disguise
Good people who we should all praise
To all the good people out there
I salute you because you really care.
TV Reporters
By Franklin Price
4/1/2015
TV reporters in the field
They're there to make the news
Must be in the thick of it
Must have the best of views
Expose themselves to elements
To gunshots and to gore
To show you they are part of it
So you'll come back for more
Hurricanes will blow them down
Wild fires burn their skin
The risks they take phenomenal
Part of the story once again
Early in the morning
In the middle of the night
A peaceful march reporting
Might turn into a fight
To be there just to watch it
To record it and partake
If they do it well enough
More money they will make
Will become quite famous
And if everything goes well
Will safely anchor evening news
And embellish what they tell
In conclusion to this tale
Of reporters you may know
In danger right there with them
Are the ones who shot the video
A voice calls to me in dreams
if only I could open this mind
to all of the fairy tale legends
enchanting every meaning
softly memories flow
remembering back dreaming
as a young lad.
How magic the old Celtic tales were
wishing I was in the thick of it
even thinking back they would all make
magical movies
they would bring magic to children's eyes
even adults would enjoy.
Taking everyone into a different realm
where butterflies are fairy princesses chariots
with their beautiful colors
waltzing in a cool summer breeze.
Sailing into the glen among'st heather
softly blossoming all shades
flowering to the softest pink
also lilac to purple
gently whispering winds carrying her moaning
sad romantic tales whistling through the trees
Over the ages white dots on a soul
breathless rings around loves beauty
peace under the hawthorn bush
dreaming within petals of you my love
the fairy princess becomes queen.
Over and over I see them.
Life's questions, lacking answers.
There!--our genesis,
our history, the steering post
for all the world,
and I am in the thick of it,
unleashing chaos in the wings
with breathless wonder teeming over
at the very thought we have it
under our control. No,
for if that be true
creation is a lie; the thrill is gone,
and all our toys lie useless
as a fantasy.
Here we are again, with our "perhaps"
eliciting the smile of any wiser God
who happens by... for we've achieved
a wisdom that we didn't see.
The brain has gone into an active mode,
aware that we are not alone,
and reaching out into the font
of riches ever at our side.
There is a fresh eternity to make our choice.
And there is one more gift to choose
if we retain the will to make it so:
the caveat of love.
~
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.