They ask the tool and take the answer fast,
With no uncertain doubts they ever cast.
The words look good, the lines are smooth and neat,
But funny faults lie low in the sheet.
They skip the work that builds a curious mind,
And leave their deeper thoughts way behind.
Their borrowed lines will fade and fall away,
Like morning dews that vanish in the day.
So, learn to think, to doubt, to test and see,
Or lose your voice and your personality.
7/5/2026
You lied
I cried
Lie low
Hello
My dear
Her rear
Was flake
You snake
Slitter
Hitter
Batter
Scatter
Foul balls
Who falls
I did
You squid
I plea
Leave me
Your eyes
Like pies
And sweets
And tweets
That sing
And bling
That sate
Your plate
Without
A doubt
Peter
Cheater
Pumpin
Bumpkin
Bowwow
Chow Chow
It's clear
Leave here
connie pachecho
1/12/25
Note-A prelude to this poem, "If I Were Your Love," dated 5/1/23.
London growls under the tread
of diesel driven dreams.
A stork visits,
an attic full of discarded toys.
White mice sleep in pajamas,
made of childish nightmares.
Barges reek still, just as when,
sweat was as common as dirt.
A window in Baker Street,
opens to let pipe smoke out,
it uncoils in the air
like a left-handed genie.
Meat mongers return to their,
gore-soaked cradles
before the dawns leery light.
The city is a fable,
there is fuel oil seeping,
through tunnels and runnels,
where entrenched gutter snipes
lie low and wait.
Denizens' crabwalk
along Regents Street
barking Chinese commands
at oppressed corgis.
Stately towers are pressure washed,
until they shed a dark sunlight
that fractures ferrous raindrops.
Tenements sink under the weight,
of red carpets
until the blood flows
out of them.
London by night,
is a veneer,
a crust
of low expectations.
Now having been retired for a decade
this has given me time to think
now having so much me time on hand
consider the benefits, put down in ink
This time makes me feel so glad
deep down inside there's a real peace
knowing my times are my own to be alone
wishing for these times never to cease
Relaxing the brain is so cool
just lie back and soak in your thoughts
listen to pure smooth classical sounds
so soothing to ponder catching each shot
So much quality time to take in
just there feeling nice to be alone
enjoy your silence so very still
moments keep close never blown
Personally in my special me time
love to lie low being just still
bringing thoughts to my mind poetically
metaphorically climbing up my rhymeful hill
truth if we’d know
stop thoughts flowing
lie low awhile
12-May-2023
The rumbling sound,
While I lie low to the ground-
Calling upon the cuffs of sleep -
To keep me in the jails deep-
It is a wave that strikes;
A hungry tummy to get a slice,
Of bread,
Of breath.
With a frothed mouth,
The emptiness goes south.
In this darkness, craving for food,
I remember the nuts unchewed.
With my head under the pillow, I yawn;
And the stomach enzymes spawn.
Midnight hunger is disaster,
That needs to be served like a master.
Even
S U N
faces
ECLIPSE
but
World still
upholds
power of
Fire Ball
SUN
does not
waste time
in cribbing
in blaming
Moon for
blackout
SUN
lets the
Nature's
cyclic design
manifest
without
trying to
claim it's
supreme
Star status
and continues
sending rays
everyday to
everyone
SON
of Sun
need to
learn
from Sun
Believe in Self
No blame game
Lie low at times
Be consistent
in responsibilities
Burn for others
Shine for others
___________________
©Dr Hitendra Mehta
Lie low, as the noise whizzes by
overhead, side to side, undertow
Echoes reverberate ‘cross the canyon
plunge into the bone-dry riverbank
~ Lie low, as the noise whizzes by
Walking along the Harbours
Walking along the rocky harbour,
I looked off into the clouds above,
The moon was shining ever so bright;
And I remembered the labour of love.
Artillery was being fired far and wide;
Where could I go?
Stuck in a musty chamber;
I tried to lie low.
For weeks, I hadn’t seen her,
Her face a fragile memory;
I yearned to be with her;
The week felt like a century.
Holding the letter in my hands,
Tears streamed down my face.
I collapsed onto the pavement
And I wished I could press ‘backspace’.
night pulse
weird creaks
dim shapes
move neath
tall trees
ferns vines
pits mounds
of trees
that fell
time has
claim with
moss mats
lie low
small bugs
mice stir
earth floor
2/2/2022
A Strand (1065) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
You have just blown your last candle out
It does no good to scream and shout.
Even if you try to lie low,
When you gotta go, you gotta go.
The time has come for you to find out,
Who possesses all the clout.
“Life’s a long day’s journey into night.” – by poet.
It’s been a long road and I am tired,
I tried to go back where it all began
but my soul got lost along the way.
I live in a world of death,
All the ones I’ve loved are now gone,
like birds freed from the cage,
but I’ll fight to keep their memories alive.
Man is permeable like a sieve
and he sifts for nuggets of intimacy.
The furrows are leveled
The harvest is in,
And I guess I’ll go some place quiet,
put my feet up, and lie low for now.
But some day…
I’ll find my way back home.
~11/21/21
~Contest: "W" (Weary)
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
We made haste as friends
I chase her fragrant scent
into the air and the winds
that the autumn ardour had sent.
Running rush of time well spent,
To unravel the treasured chase
with every fleeting moment
For humour, we laugh and gaze.
Into a place lie low, we embrace
The caresses of a hidden race
To make the thrill of this chase
Put the strides of rhythm upon our face.
The glee filled our hearts,
With a million worth of treasure
Mysterious steps into the depths
Hurled the winds we share.
And passions never seemed to tire,
But throw the chase into the winter
And keep the procession of hope on fire
Till the gallant grey comes back to summer.
Within a land of Virgin Forest mystical wonders flourish
Trembles the pulsing heart of heavenly laden body at night
Ghostly figures shadows shoutout, dance, and nourish
Soft weaving mellifluous emerald-mist awaiting daylight
Chasms filled and mounds of decaying fallen trees below
Eloquent lace lichen and mats of moss embrace nature's seasons
Improbable flickering amber windows aglow
Amongst high-tower contorted trees bestow reasons
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low
Beneath enclosing trees bough
And susurration fluttering leaves
As brownies are busy all night tweaking chores
Alicorn, centaurs, fairies, and dwarf stir leaves of trees
High overhead night creaks, cries, and laughter flow
Sailing passage through moist earthy scent breeze
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low euphoric
Within a land of Virgin Forest
9/16/2021
''M'' Contest, New Poems Only - Poetry Contest 6. Mystical
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I want to make myself clear,
So all might understand
I'll try to pen something here.
Something that's not bland.
I pick up my pen with a flourish.
To try to make a stand.
Thirty minutes later,
The pen's still in my hand
Poised over the paper
Ignoring my command
The pen would not flow
Should I unhand
The pen
And let it lie low
Amen.
Amen, indeed
Wake up, muse and write
A great read
One that inspires all to think
Is, what I need
Before I sink
Into oblivion,
As I state the obvious
With good reason
23 April 2021
Just Stating The Obvious Poetry Contest Poetry Contest
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