Loafing Poems

A Liar’s Living - Mar 4

The luckless leper’s lousily lobbing
Lame libel at Lords and Ladies along
His lonesome lane, a lizard in limbo
Loafing on his lowly laurels, laughing.

Shoulda Seen It

Got fired for loafing on the job.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
Crossing a street, a car hit me.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
A foul ball hit me on the head.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
My girl fled with a gigolo.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
Got arrested as a tax cheat dolt.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
Went broke buying high, selling low.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
Got bit playing with a Great White.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
Sold hens to pay bills, eggs got high.
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
Voted for change but have none left.
         I shoulda seen it comin’. 
Don’t know how to end this poem!
         I shoulda seen it comin’.
1/31/2023

Girl On the Street

Good evening sir. 
 Do you perhaps have a few cents to spare?
 You want to know what I am doing at this time of the night,
 Out here?
 If you have time I will tell you my life story. 

 My mother had me when she was only thirteen.
 She was raped by her stepdaddy.
 Her alcoholic mum spun a story.
 Told all her friends and family it was a “skollie”.
 She tried to commit suicide but in the end, pop me out.

 You see mister when I was born. 
 My mummy was very young.
 She still wanted to enjoy her young life.
 She dumped me by friends or family,
 When she wanted to go to a party.
  She did not care what happened to me.
 All she wants is her next fix.
  Her mother chased us out to the streets
  We live now under a bridge. 
   
  When I was five one of her “tikkop” friends.
  Decided it is time for me to feel the hardness of a man.
  He hurt me bad.
  I tried to scream and was very scared.
  My mummy has done nothing she just looks at me,
  While enjoying her puffing.
  You see mister now I am loafing.
  For a few cents to sustain my cravings.

Fly

Sitting on a snug chair, I was staring out a window 
How a little bird on the surface was trying to fly 
Little kid, was finding difficult to do a task 
Which others of the same age did with ease 
Tried his best, but was not achieving the result 
Not because he was idle but because of luckless 
Stepped back, ran forward with greater force 
Lasted above earth for a millisecond and again fell down 
Cried hard, saw his friend flew away doing the same 
He another time stepped away and repeated his actions 
But, for the same method, is always the same outcome 
Comparing little birds with small kids 
How fortunate are the ones who get success 
How dreadful is the situation for the one's who fail 
By doing the same as others, working hard all day 
But in the end, left all alone dejected 
He's considered indolent and loafing by the world 
But if anyone had seen the process, knows the depressed one 
He, might not achieve the height, his partner did 
But surely one day, this hapless bird will also FLY

Pat-A-Cake Pat-A-Cake

“You have to get a job, my son,
Your mother and I agree.
You can’t spend your life just loafing around,
Sponging on her and me.”

And, although it went against the grain,
I realized I must.
So I got a job as a baker
To earn an honest crust.

My father and mother egged me on
And, to make sure I wasn’t lazing,
They bought me an alarm clock,
So I could be self-raising.

I made the occasional bloomer,
As anyone new might have done.
I forgot to turn the oven on
And invented the cold cross bun.

My rich fruit cake was sometimes poor;
My sponge cake sometimes flat.
But now I have the hang of it,
I’ve got it all off pat.

I’m really on a roll now,
Forever on the go.
I have to keep on working,
Because I kneed the dough.

31st May 2022
Merger With Food poetry contest
Sponsor Natasha L Scragg

A Wintry Night

A wintry night 

Beam of scorching sunlight 
Eventually stifling inside through the curtain's strands
Loafing over the escritoire and olden snaps 
(some years ago i spend the time snapping him)

Indulging in traditional afternoon tea
Some dainty sandwiches, scones
Served with clotted cream and preserved memories 
Bleak breeze snuggled down the tresses, nape and a keen nip in the spine
(his reminiscences of his early days haunts me)

'O girl! You are so much drunk'.
(He yelled...)

Was she so much drunk with him or the whiskey?

A wintry night in January 
Diurnal seven o'clock hold Irish music evenings
What more burly in the air?
The Irish latte 
Or
His aftershave
(her sniff grappled with whiff)
She emptied the whole bottle of whiskey 
And both bonked upstairs 
He mumbled something she didn't catch
He made a grab before she had a fall
Laid back and enfolded her
With his arms and the denim jacket
(nodded their noses)
Ahh! She spewed the festered whiskey 
The sided where he laid

'O girl! You are so much drunk'.
(a voice echoed)

Was she so much drunk with him or the whiskey?
(a thought relived)

The Leaves and the Winds

The leaves,
                  they are not crazy
                 They also live
                     playing...
                  They took off the clothes
                     of trees
                   and depart whirling ...
                   It was the audacious wind,
                   who took them out to dance ...
                   It was the lovely wind
                   who took them for a walk!
                   It was the wind sorrel who
                   invited them to the party ...
                   But when the party is over,
                   they did not desire to come back ...!
                   They gone running worlds,
                   were to visit other pests ...
                   Have been to another place ...!
                   That's why my friend
                   do not be scared when passing ....
                   There comes a time in life ...
                   say it's "fall"
                   which the beloved leaves,
                    they just do loafing ...!

Pain In the Butt

The hater with the gun,
the loafing lover
with all my fun,
may be horrid,
too florid,

And may, like me,
merely want to be effective,
a dramatic part, affective
on and in this great staged show
we share
and sometimes care to listen
and too often speak
and shoot off too deadly much.

When we want to blow up competitively fast,
we go it alone, 
as universally hungry egos.

When we want to go far
we go together,
cooperatively ego/eco-united.

When we want to go fast and far
we travel together
synergy's intentional resilience
quickly listening for cooperative warm resonance.

Active lovers
together having all our fast fun
remelting cooperative plowshares
from hot and steely guns.

Back In Harmony

Shards of oblivion
Life in a dice
Annoying nudges
Approaching self reproach

Bent on levity
Head on a plate
Empurpling serenity
Instigating the triumph

Sigh for a sigh
A poke in the rib
Brows and gestures
Counting colours and calories

Back in harmony
Five thousand light years from the void
Ardent feelings of love
Happier than thou

Back in harmony
Particular measures pleasures and treasures
Hands in air
We own the sky

Back in harmony
Unchained melody and a crazy pose
Beautifully unconventional
Idly loafing

Keep

7/11/15




I continue to keep growing
During every season as it continues to keep snowing
I move forward and keep going
As the winds keep blowing

I remember to keep noting
Before the door keeps closing


what good comes from when you keep loathing
And when (if) you keep loafing

Don't be surprised if you keep seeing death approaching
If you only contine to keep slowing


When you know better and should keep rowing
Regardless of if the stars in the sky keep glowing

No reason for me to keep gloating
Or be the one to keep hoping

As I continue to keep coasting
With an excessive amount of raps that I continued to keep posting

There was a screen that always wanted to keep loading
But I payed it no mind as the molecules in the air continued to keep floating

Others wanted to keep voting
And some just cared to keep roaming

By: Dalton Ogletree

Flower Power-God's Must Be Crazy

There’s a prickly old man who seemed lazy
Yet while loafing he pushed up a daisy
And said with some practice
He’d force up a cactus
Just to prove that the gods must be crazy

Lockdown

Here I am
loafing away
like a king
on the roof
when princes
have gone to battle
petting his senses
on a naked eve's navel

I do no evil
though, but idleness is evil
I can't be there
'cause I have to work
But now I stare
at an empty chair
with no one to clerk
Lab coat
and steth'scope
taking coffee

My crew's performing
I'm here sulking,
angry at my joblessness
and restlessness
Even the rain is at work
catering, cleaning, making music
I sprawl on my table
like one that's lost a gamble

This is solitary confinement,
lockdown, detainment
Who knew today'd be like this?
So sickness takes public holidays

They go on stage
while I'm in this cage
The world applauds
I bow and nod

Who is taking my character? who's
replaced my role?
I need a counsellor, there's
war within my soul
Should I leave this silent bird
to go nurse a wailing whale?
To be or not to be
That is the question

Here I Rhyme Only Once

There is a street in town
Where porridge is drawn up,
Where loafing is a virtue
And spitting is the sport of kings.

Old London town would be so proud
Of all the knaves and fools
Who frolic all day long
Then sleep amid the ruins.

Edgar was the given name
Of one young fool
Who skipped along the padded street
One whistle to his name.

He loved the maiden Joan of Arc
Whose beauty was untrue.
Both expired the self-same day,
No penny to their names.

And me, I get along somehow
Standing on a rock,
While fishing in a muddy hole,
I never watch the clock.

Sudbury the Rock

Poem about Sudbury, Ontario, Canada



Sudbury The Rock
Black and crusty surfaces
Loafing in the sun

Soldiers Strait

Wandering And Loafing thither-stunned I knew,
Scorching sweat-and a grim creature view,
Aye troubled and loaded vista of misery,
Swirling with abjectness seeming weary,
 
Nor they stand upright neither they sit calm,
Where they where ,never in placid nay in ominous realm,
Prepare for prepare on this abominable flame of war,
They freaked out through futile power,
 
Hence ‘tis a royal road through eke’ out but volatile,
Ye- grudgingly yet’ a way but vile,
What he must –must he be, but far and away,
Gibbet solemnly- but utter mere no word-to say,
 
Confined yea bind ah! Archaic men-at-arms,
You’d be among these, with no charm and warms,
Maunder surreal-y even in the day-and night watch,
Discern–castles in air while-lying on a patch,
 
Fair a mere simpleton creature, when dies,
Forgot at-once posthumously with no suspiration and sighs,
No well being and vivification where he dwelt and grew,
Aye beneath the troubled shallow’y spring under the yoke of fo,
 
Regime demand integrity, excelence and professionalism,
They say trinquality, solace, and humanism,
Tongue introverted, knees knocked, head stood,
Muster out as OAP, at hoar,man-made-wood.

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