Lassoed Poems | Examples

From Death to Grave

~Running~ death steps behind ~ don't stop to tell how close.
Swallowing a clump of cacti. Throat skewers. 
Aubergine blood clots. Cough, life's wick smaller. 
Struggle effective so long ago, like swinging axes,
which kerf felled the tall tree and brought the timberwolves sorrows?
Can't celebrate on broken lips ~nihilistic providence~
the cancer of Hope eating body as it canonizes soul.
Roasting in this blue basilisk without a cloud over Hell,
lassoed by titian sands, shall our desert enshrine martyrs' bones?

I cannot play Poker

Some people can play poker
Not me
My thoughts and feelings sit at the edge of my face
Jumping on the necks and backs of people
If you disgust me, my disgust might take a bite out of you

If I listed all the things that irritate and disgust me
You would feel put upon and irritated
No one wants to hear this
Instead I bring my rant back to my unhidden feelings

When I am sad they yell, stomp, scream, and screech.
All without benefit of voice
But you see my face and you know
See now why I cannot play poker?

When I have a winning hand my crescent smile lights up Manhattan.
And I live in Kansas.
My thoughts and feelings cannot be secured, lassoed or hidden.
They blaze forward like a super hero on speed.
In spite of my best efforts to act aloof or indifferent.

Imagination

Imagination

When I was young
just a bright eyed child
Magic meshed with imagination 
Both mystical and wild

Fairytale kingdoms
Colourful real
The grey world outside me
Held such little appeal

I rode metallic moonbeams,
Lassoed shooting stars
Collected turquoise oceans 
in my mason jars

My best friend was a monkey 
King Bongo ruled my toys
Although small in stature
I was somehow more than other boys

Nothing seemed impossible 
I travelled at the speed of thought 
Everything wasn’t what it was
And some things were what they were not

I rushed to grow up 
Yes it’s true
It seems boys often do
Still my friend I have a secret
I might have kept from you

When I close my eyes
Imagination reappears
I travel back to yesterday 
and all those years they disappear.

Jimmy is Intent On Beating His Own Record

Jimmy was intent on beating his own record.
Forty-six hours of straight video game playing.
He heard some crashing outside.
Thought it was a garbage truck.
Never looked out. It would quit eventually.

The bashing and crashing sounded closer now.
More like Armageddon than a garbage truck.
Jimmy turned up the volume on his console.
Twenty-eight million and sixty-three his golden star said.
He was ahead of his own record by sixteen points!

The building began to jerk, as if a giant spaceship had lassoed it.
Jimmy ignored this the best he could, which was not easy.
Pop! The power went out. The apartment went solid black.
Darker than it had ever been; Jimmy felt exasperated.
Looked out the window as the building plummeted into a giant sinkhole.

Refurbished Legends: Pecos Bill Or Tall In the Saddle

There is a legend of a cowboy down in Texas
To whom they give the sobriquet of Pecos Bill.
It's said he rooted and he tooted
As across the plains he scooted,
Stetsoned, jeaned, bowlegged, and booted,
Pursuing cows and wooing gals
As was his skill.

The story goes one day while Bill was out romancing,
A cyclone came and rudely whisked the gal away.
He hopped atop the thing to ride it,
Quickly lassoed and hogtied it,
Then none the worse for wear and tear and rough foreplay,
Out stepped the gal,
And Pecos Bill had saved the day.

Now, legends often tend to get a bit inflated,
And this one here is no exception to the rule.
Some say it's too exaggerated,
I say it's well imaginated.
Like alimony oilmen often pay their exes,
Things are always so much bigger down in Texas.
Of course, it's hogwash, rubbish, bunk,
And yet how often have I thunk
That the tale of Pecos Bill is kinda cool.

Cat Lassoes the Moon

The moon cannot be lassoed, the persnickety opossum said.
Cat next to him laughed so hard, his face turned pink, then red.
Depends on how magical you are, the feline said with knowledge of many.
He lassoed the moon, which gave us enough swiss cheese to feed twenty.

Swing Low

I lassoed with my lariat
a laureate named Harriet;
I rope-a-doped a pope
and washed his mouth with soap.
The wheel broke on my chariot;
it was too big to carry it.
The poet and the pope got hitched;
I’ll be home soon, I hope.

Rain Is a Gypsy

Rain is a gypsy we once knew,
singing her melancholy songs.
A restless nomad, quickly flew,
left crystal tears to wish upon.

Swirling skirts in dry river bed,
rain is a gypsy we once knew.
Danced in trees near a watershed,
as she coaxed clouds to spill anew.

Lassoed an early breeze that blew
her perfume followed where she went.
Rain is a gypsy we once knew,
yet precious raindrops she but  leant.

We wait for her to ride in skies,
a flash of skirts in lilac-blue.
Lightning afire in silver eyes,
rain is a gypsy we once knew.

August 30, 2022

Grandpas Boat

grandpa’s pride on the water
sitting by the dock of the bay
barely lassoed, relaxed and happy

reflecting calm waters
not a breeze in sight
worries dissipate

catfish smell
a slumbering peacefulness
I know God is at the helm

A small ripple
Splash!
the world is waking up

I open my eyes and see grandpa disappearing
There is his smile
I love you I tell him

Gone fifteen years
but as long as I have his boat
never really gone.

We Lassoed the Moon

We lassoed the moon and it gave us a wink.
My friend Teddy and I. Giraffe took a drink.
We were in the waters of the Nile, a beautiful place.
The moon glowed brilliantly, shone bright on my face.

Where should we keep her? I asked Teddy, concerned.
Storing a moon safely, is a skill that I never learned.
He looked thoughtful. ”Not in the closet or under the bed.”
“Let’s take it to Dun buggy land, friend Teddy said.

Dun buggy land was over the hill, and past the gators.
We would have to be watch out for them and their maters.
Giraffe offered to help, but hooves are not able to grab.
So we ended up calling ourselves a big yellow cab.

The driver said I will help. He got out and gave it a try.
The moon did not budge and I kind of know why.
That moon was full, all round and heavy and such.
Let’s come back another time, I suggested. But thanks very much!

I Lassoed Some Stars

I lassoed some stars from near and far
and kept the dark at bay.
I hugged the moon and danced a tune
until the break of day.
The covers I flung as I kissed the sun
and asked it please to stay.
I sung a verse to the universe
and then I knelt to pray.

The Horses

THE HORSES 
 There was grassland with a river crossing, a natural barrier.
White horses on one side, and muscular brown horses on the other side.
If one looks well, there are foals of mixed race, they good genes and will
in time carve out their land, higher up, near the hills and water.
When farmers wanted a horse for ploughing, they lassoed a brown horse,
for lighter work, like driving the ladies to the church in a buggy, a white horse
was chosen mainly because they were malleable to handle.
 Tragedy struck, developers bought the land, houses were built, filling
the grassland with noise streets and polluting the river.
The horses fled to a sparse mountain slope on the grass, and many
starved, their life span short, and the puma was a constant threat.
The horses mixed freely they had to when their survival was at stake.

Midnight Sonata

They kept telling her to leave!
But her heart didn't hear their
loud thumping voices.

Like an idiot staying up all night,
this grandmother,quite old,
Physically worn out, decided it
was time to fold.

After all, few years had she left!
She put away her quill in her oak
desk, more than bereft.

Knowing to them she was nothing but 
a "thumbs down."
But knew that was fine, as one
day, she would wear a heavenly
crown.

Loathed because she was a patriot!
Knew truth, not lassoed by fake
news lariats!

Glad she was in the PS Anthology,
She grinned with humble satisfaction.
Staring at her friend.the lone, moonlit 
Oak tree.

The quill rustled softly in it's velvet 
green holder.
No quitter, she, hard times always made 
her far bolder.


              12/19/20320

Along the Shortest Road Ever a Treacherous Journey

Along the shortest road ever (a treacherous journey)
  An opening appeared before me;
bright equations bleeding time squished all memory
of who i was, am, or might be -- a preponderance
of suddenly)meets the long shaman of my Thoughts.

  I lassoed upon a mote of dust (cherubs swinging
Cherubs singing) & rode myself )not that way( Toward
a Whole certain corner ) ___and touched mySelf
Searched mySelf ...forget mySelf when i think of
How many broken Kewpie dolls cry silently for-
Everfully & mySelf & and myHeart and mySoul
Invent grand ideas of Enormous Language
   that touches allHearts!

::02-08-2020

Sixty Years - My Life - I Live

My life, I've lived...for sixty years 
Like you, some days...were filled with tears 
In life, I've tried, my best...be good 
To share, my love...with brotherhood
 
Lassoed by satin's rope...a few 
Cut loose, myself...my whole life through 
To walk a path...in promise land 
In times of need... to lend my hand
 
Sixty years, of life...I live 
Still, I've got so much more...to give 


Story Of My Life Poetry Contest (10 lines)
Sponsor: Silent One 
9-29-2019

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