Hika Bay
Silent hawks appear
outside our window
two,then four,now six
form a floating dimond
A kettle of hawks roam high
on ancient air
sent by first peoples
to remind us
We dont own these wonders
they belong to Hika Bay
we are just the latest
interlopers
Frozen in place
in the sky
the gray sky
before the rain comes
PJB
Categories:
interloper, animal, appreciation, bird, environment,
Form: Narrative
A fierce eagle in mid-flight
Was overcome with fearful fright.
He could not believe his eyes,
“What’s this doing in my skies?
First, there was Ben Franklin’s kite.
Now, I deal with Wilbur Wright.”
Categories:
interloper, bird, flying, humor, humorous,
Form: Couplet
I was cautioned, he is a master chessman, so if we go ….
We have to not even whisper, and we have to tiptoe
I was expecting an owl, for I had heard he was a fowl.
I was shocked to see it was a parakeet and uttered a vowel.
The parakeet said get rid of the interloper and I was led away
So I did not see the match between him and Alice that day.
I never went back, for they had put me in jail.
And I decided to stay, for it was a place to get mail.
Categories:
interloper, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Rhyme
“I suggest we break the ice”, the interloper said.
I began chopping with a snow axe, and she laughed.
You must have been born with a silver spoon, she threw out.
I threw the snow axe at her; irritated she had called it a spoon.
She ducked, as cool as a cucumber.
I was irritated now.
“I’ve got your number,” she told me.
I had no idea how she had gotten it.
“I was not born yesterday,” she added.
I knew from her wrinkles she was not lying.
“This is as easy as ABC,” she said. “You are transparent.”
I was not a happy camper now, she was getting under my skin.
“Hold your horses,” I told her. “You are coming on too strong.”
“You’ll be in hot water if you continue egging me on like this.”
She laughed. “Let me put a bug in your ear,” she said.
“Hot water is something I do best after falling through a hole in the ice.”
Categories:
interloper, word play,
Form: Free verse
I'm a tangling weed, always have been.
I am the blot on a fine painting,
Beautiful people stampede when I blow my nose.
I mess up the too tidy,
stick out like a crow in a cage for a cannery,
My Adams Apple can be seen from space. -
okay slight exaggeration said for comic effect
but it's a fact,
in a lush meadow full of buttercups
I would be the hairy weed
crashing that bottom-land with my bottom.
Some call my calling, my poetic bawling
too weedy, weedy enough to be pulled up
so as to let the lovely flowers bloom and spread,
but I get my scrawny roots around such pretty words
and squeeze.
Categories:
interloper, poetry,
Form: Free verse
lovely scene defaced
prima facie photobomb
interloper me
Categories:
interloper, image,
Form: Senryu
They fortified themselves into an Alamo of their own making
Walled themselves to keep the weird one out –namely me.
I thought it was brilliant, and it was totally unexpected.
I knew them, and had no idea they were this creative
I had grown up with them, in spite of them, fading them.
My little sister wanted a window, but she was outvoted
They had dusted off their sandals, they wanted nothing to do with me
I had been born an interloper, and had remained an outsider all my life
Which was okay with me, for I never felt less welcome anywhere
Okay, maybe one place, but that was just for a couple of seconds.
Finally my little sister escaped the family status quo
She had never believed in my evilness, for she knew me
She remembered some good things; maybe all good things
I had adored her, and frankly, you cannot fool a child.
She looked me up, and we began a friendship.
It was an opportunity for me to worm my way back.
But I was an eagle now, no longer a worm,
So I allowed the walls to remain tightly bound shut
Glad she had created a door though.
Categories:
interloper, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Prose Poetry
His hands are worn smooth
they work in the soft ether of his thoughts,
only two fingertips
plunge to earth and peck
at a world he hardly knows.
His poetry is sea soaked and spattered
with English fishing villages
where he first learned
to interpret waves and the collected works
of kelp and rockpools.
As he grows older
he explores places he has never set foot upon,
Ulan Batur, Vladivostok, Harbin,
these are grey places that bloom
in summer when fur hats are taken off.
He was born in a grey ghetto
and knows the power of cherry blossoms.
He believes in spirit animals,
prays to owls
whenever a death wish visits him.
No doubt he was born into
the wrong time, but he makes the best
of all places that have survived,
He has come to terms
with situation and circumstance,
though humankind never fails
to disappoint.
Curiosity prevails though,
he still visits without invitation,
takes notes, and sneaks in
wherever a window opens.
Categories:
interloper, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A bully is a criminal caught red-handed in Japan,*
Vietnam,† Afghanistan, Iraq; a culprit or a marked man
Who entitles only himself to missiles, putting a ban
On possessing them by others; and try as much as you can
To put into his empty skull with your best-laid scheme and plan
That he is wrong, he won’t perceive. You should only weigh and scan
All ways to find one to teach him a lesson for his life span.
1.26.2020
* Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed with the USA’s nuclear bombs
† In a prolonged war (1954-1975) between the USA and North Vietnam
No comments, please!
Categories:
interloper, america,
Form: Monorhyme
There is a small eternity
'Twixt my coming and my going.
Though it be filled with riddles
And words crawling in the mud,
Time is no interloper, and I freeze.
Up from the shale and storm,
Up from the majesty crawling forth to mate,
Life shouts like a thunder shock.
The earth retches,
And a form arises from the thin mud,
amphibian as a cross.
Part fish,
Part rat,
It is inscribed on the genes,
And I read it like a nettled book.
I read the record of the dead
And wonder, could this be us?
Or from a passing comet do we hail?
Categories:
interloper, creation, life,
Form: Free verse
Look to the outside, look within,
The penciling trees, the straw of the sun,
Skin white as milk, cheeks turn to cherries,
The gaze falls deeper within.
No more shall this stranger taunt me,
Its eyes glistening with the deep bordeaux of blood,
In which moment the heart begins to bleed,
Consciousness lost in the reflection of another.
Its palms gently caress its cheeks,
Mirroring my every move, my every breath,
A sheeny droplet passes down its complexion,
Yet I feel the sadness bound in my heart.
And still it stares, trapped before me,
Hands gripping the nearby porcelain vase,
Eyes lustrous, almost mad,
It sends the delicate prop against the cold surface.
Crimson, scarlet streams descend gently,
It still stares - bewildered and dazed,
Both our hands seen only through thick brooks of ruby,
And a smile appears.
Hello stranger,
The soul within remains unchanged,
Our gaze saunters and with a final glance of approval,
I turn and gait forth, sensing no more the bothering embodiment.
Categories:
interloper, introspection, life, people,
Form: Imagism
Crows sound the alarm
Blue jays confirm the report...
Man is in the woods!
Timothy I. Brumley
Categories:
interloper, animals, nature
Form: Haiku