My fabric lanyard will often coil
Around the strap of my satchel.
My work lanyard is an easy choke hazard for adults
-What is the failure key?
They imagine!
-What is wrong about that?
They do sleep on the job! That is the general idea!
-What is dream then?
A subconscious urge that yarns for non-aspiring unfulfilled reticent.
-Now what is non-aspiring?
Without mediocrity, some kind of ambition.
-Why is it needed?
They are absolutely needed to egress, as these are toxic like mothball!
-Did you ever try mothball?
Nope! Did you?
-Nope! I did not declare too!
I did! Is it not your problem?
-How so?
And so on.....
The lanyard is a verse: evangelical
"Finish what he started!"
My work lanyard is an easy choking hazard for adults
Fancy a quickie
Scuse me my darlin’
I notice you smilin’
Obviously enchanted by me??
Well i’m exhilerated to say…..
Its valentine…s day!
And im horny as horny can be!
The name is Peter!
Aroused to meet ya!
Whats a gal like you doing
in a place like this?
Your lanyard says Vicky…,
Do you fancy a quickie?
On your break or
After your shift?
Like a pendulum,
Those navajo beads swinging
Upon clothing rack
On which my robes are hanging,
With an aqua quartz dangling.
The sunflower,
The symbol of hidden disabilities,
To show people that not all disabilities are visible.
The lanyard,
For people with hidden disabilities,
To show they need support.
Don’t ignore it,
Don’t discriminate,
Give support.
Don’t say the wrong thing,
Don’t do the wrong thing,
Let us do what we can do.
The sunflower lanyard,
A very important part
Of our lives.
02/06/22
The bugles will sound in the distant courtyard
The proud soldier came home from the cause,
Many tears will be shed with noted regard.
A much-decorated warrior in the vanguard,
The dress military uniform he will wear because
The bugles will sound in the distant courtyard.
The family will receive a beautiful mass card
“Our Fathers” will be recited without pause,
Many tears will be shed with noted regard.
He died so young, consciences will be jarred
Candles will be lighted with silent applause,
The bugles will sound in the distant courtyard.
For many understanding his sacrifice is hard
Was he born just to die for this unworthy cause?
Many tears will be shed with noted regard.
His family will receive a flag and his lanyard
His soul is entrusted to the man on the cross,
The bugles will sound in the distant courtyard
Many tears will be shed with noted regard.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
written June 23, 2021
Brian Strand's "All Yours" Poetry Contest
languid doldrums, swaying lanyard, sails hanging loose
dreary small drums reverberate, neurons dumbing down
nerve ends fuse, sunlit shadows depict my numbing frown
feelings grind dull, thoughts stranded in the dangling sluice
sudden intermittent draught, strengthening breeze
mind and body free-falling, spontaneous pressure
sinews stretch, skin on skin, pulsating probing pleasure
senses tingle, tickling laugh, lengthening squeeze
breathe in deep, sniff olfactory aroma drift
gustatory tasting plates licked and tongued
erotic amalgam squished and belly-bunged
nostrils flare, exotic pungent odour whiffed
cavort, canoodle, drooling lips, flavours of the beast
rhythms rise where delirious frenzy can often be
harmonic screaming near the edge of cacophony
weave distorted images, dream-dancing above the feast
fleers, seekers, washed-up innocent sinning on the beach
subdividers and King Canute howling at the wind
viral loads onboard, invisible invaders grinned
collective cowardice casts the truth spinning out of reach
I was inconveniently waiting
For your interest to show
But that never came
Should have kept my hope low
You were conveniently using
My time to your standards
As if I was a key
Hanging from your key lanyard
You only wanted me around
When you wanted my hands
You only needed me to be
Your convenient man
Conveniently it's not how this works
I'm not just a tool
So what do you take me for
Do I look like a fool
It's a good thing I saw
The ways your wheels worked
So it is very convenient
I saw not to hurt
You messed up thinking
You can conveniently trick me
You almost succeeded
The thought is so sickening
Although conveniently so
I am smarter than you
I saw it coming
And now we are through
Written 2-19-19
Bicycle tires spinning, carefree with no helmet —
The nineteen-sixties, the neighborhood is our space.
In Summertime, the playground’s a haven with friends —
Sunny smiles, weaving potholders and lanyard lace.
We peers are miniatures — unpolished future selves —
Revolving at a mesmerizing merry-go-round pace.
Snowballs swinging at us as we run and laugh —
The boys have taken over the entire space.
We slide from trees, get stung, ride cycles without shoes.
The stars and the moon tap their watch — Mother’s chase.
9/28/2018
Silent One’s Lines of Ten
Oh hearken the struggle, life's gossamer threads,
The delicate sway of hope ...
Framed by churning white of Lord Neptune's might,
Faith dangles a slender rope.
Wan maiden, her savior, and a scarlet shawl,
Battered by surf and gale ...
Yet our faceless hero and his capable arms,
As sure as the damsel, frail.
Mostly monochromatic, all its tones of gray,
Save for the kerchief, red ...
While turbulent struggles around them rage on,
We center that shawl instead.
We see not the others who attend the line,
But imagine them nonetheless ...
The artist connects them with the lanyard, strong,
And so intimates their distress.
The distinctive edges and leaf-like waves
Are peculiar to Winslow's style ...
As are the rare stories his paintings tell,
That enamor us, and beguile.
While he traveled afar and painted it all,
And was a celebrated roamer ...
He loved my home state of Maine the best,
And so truly was a HOMER.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Celebration of Art Poetry Contest", Kim Rodrigues, Judge & Sponsor.
-Quiet voices with low decibels are taken with offense. Preconceived notions, spoken words without thought, inserting smileys to disclaim. Invertebrate personas can be seen evaporating from the skin, with the naked eye. Forming a resin that keeps building up over time. Labeling you with defects of character. Beating around the bush, hiding from problems; loose ends form. Texts twist the dough sprinkled with good intentions. Life's a *****, it hurts, don't it? Untied shoes are today's special, featuring potential failure. Intentional lack of preparation. Detached from the lanyard of civilization. Eyes disconnect; declining their calls. Reading the texts with disregard. Getting notifications and silencing alarms. Misdirected; free-falling off the imaginary edge of fictional beliefs. Playing a new version of make believe. Pretending with the help of it's big brother assumption, the answers we do not know. Taking offense to the actions committed with good intent. Overthinking the simple things in life. Misinterpretations of the harmless innuendos.
If You Would Be So Kind
It is almost as if I am wearing a long lanyard
Showing that I have set a new standard
As my performance reaches a higher peak
For another new poem will hunt and seek.
Things look promising as I start to compare
My poems with Poetry Soup that are there
With them I continually try to compete
Hoping that I never have to suffer defeat.
Time always moves and goes on as well as I
Possessed and obsessed by poems cannot deny
Writing each poem that may come to my mind
Please pass the salt if you would be so kind.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
River Sea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
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