Long Accelerates Poems
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Youth speeds out the driveway slings
dust and rocks, leaving mayhem
Accelerates, wrecks occur in wake
Those youthful little gems_
Adults settle somewhat yet still
gathering dust 'pon faults.
Able to brush away the dust
Clean up rest with bath salts.
Seniors worst personality traits
Like dust gathered just stay
Hanging upon every deep rut
Unless strong efforts play.
Winter with cold, rain, snow, and sleet
Won't wash the dust away
The winter of youth's life will cling
Gathering dust more each day
Sponsor: John Lawless
Contest: Gathering Dust
Written: March 2, 2015
******((Army of love))******
beautiful mattress
hot and riled explosive gift
nature at her best
************************
***((Gone with the wind))***
the music
listen to the moaning wind
biting to the pain
*************************
******((Over & Over))******
the rainbow
fingertips touch a few drops
kiss of dew
*************************
*****((Midnight Cowgirl))*****
Texas scat, scat
puts it in, in the muddy hole
Cowgirls get it on
*************************
*****((rattle my bones))*****
taste my sweet spot
touch it, feel it, make it move
the earthquake
*************************
****((American Graffiti))******
their limbs trace,
breathing accelerates
pulse race, excessively
************************
*****((Spice or Slice))******
haikus cake for two
hope you enjoy more than one
leaving you arouse
************************
Sexy-U-Contest
An all-but-empty Interstate stretches
straight, streaking horizon to horizon:
it is a ribbon with no bow, wrapping
northern Nevada.
The eye fixes
on absent fences, looks for limits,
scans scenery overwhelmed by sky.
I cock my thumb to beg a ride;
a tear forms at the corner of my eye.
"Damn wind!"
I mutter, half believing the lie.
A dusty pickup rolls toward me
then accelerates, leaves me staring.
It dwindles into distance. -- "OK!",
I snarl.
I kick a rock, pick up my pack
and start to walk, left thumb poked
out to nothing.
Someone will stop.
Two cars speed by; I wave to them.
My belly rumbles and I count
the steps I take. My wet eyes ache.
Someone will stop.
Or won't.
She takes what isn't hers like a burglar.
Her spouse wed his lover.
She shut her eyes and once more she lost him to that *witch*.
She views him as all-powerful.
Finally! She wears his ring.
Now it’s time to hold her tongue and demonstrate to the world that she belongs to Master Shingh.
What goes around comes back around; karma is a *trickster*.
Now it’s casual intimacy with Tess the *slutty switch*.
He smiles; she chuckles.
He slows down; she accelerates.
He sneezes, she responds with “bless you.”
She embarked on her new life without hesitation.
To her, the man is all-powerful.
She reverses the ground he treads.
“Yes, master; no, master”—somehow, she manages to love, respect, and obey.
She takes things like a thief.
Argentina's son, a lineage to immigrants
shaped by boyhood aspirations
diminutive left foot striker
taunted "dwarf" in childhood
his growth hormone deficiency
overcome through meds and workouts
a counter to foes physically imposing
Messi's daily slog of skills
agility and balance
slow grind of mastery to mesh the skills to speed
on the football field, Messi dribbles through opponents
pivots round defenders, takes an opposite direction
accelerates
de-accelerates
takes stock of field positions
awareness like a lordly hawk that calculates its prey
a kick triggered whittles through the air
the ball's stinging centre,
flight controlled
at a goal keeper spiralling to the ground
this FIFA World Cup champion
devout in faith
celebrates goals by a gaze upward
a pointed hand to the heavens
another field of his embracing
790 - Messi's career goals for Barcelona clubs and
Argentinean glory
football awards that roll on like credits on a movie screen
on field moves that burrow into memory
through the entanglement of limbs
Messi's footwork, like a dancer's gift
his sprints to fill the field with unheeding power
midst the bulging roar of fans
a homage to glorify the footballer
before he fades
to legend
Poem written January 4, 2023
Life is a Series of Unmade Choices
Written: by Tom Wright
2/12/2018
Our life path is populated with unmade choices,
And mode of travel accelerates us on our way.
Too often we’re influenced by clamoring voices,
Leaving un-defendable choices on judgment day;
We face each day with a propensity of choice,
Then, by others, discover our options predisposed.
In allowing another to resonate as our voice,
We’ll soon realize that we’ve just been hosed.
One path was made for the straight and narrow,
The opposite encumbered by gimmicks and turn;
To be left as the ground of a pulverizing harrow,
And along with hushed voices, as chaff they burn.
For manic, listless, bipolar, mad souls,
the rate of solitude increases fast,
like the second derivative; to last,
velocity accelerates near black holes,
which tug light into singularity's sinkhole.
If isolation never speeds up past,
if desolation, forever steadfast,
must for eternity blast, then controls
despair all? Not so! Space-time's curvature
let's us all firmly stand on Earth's hard ground
of hope: shielded by her vaulted feature
of pure blue sky, and atmosphere all-round
this sun-bathed orb (free from mankind's nature,
this life's dismay, and gamma-ray background)!
Time accelerates our brief existence like those summer's storms
that bring on fright, lasting minutes only;
and age with its feebleness, allows years
to deepen ugly wrinkles and cause endless fear...inducing pure folly!
Youth days were a reflection of an eternal beauty
which adorned our faces with uncontrollable excitement,
looking forward to the next day with joy and certainty,
but when it started to fade...we noticed much discontent!
Time remains an unresolved mystery we cannot comprehend:
it flees from our gaze, to return with resplendent sunlight
and elude us that's not a curse for those nearing their end...
what's the purpose of being alive and then vanish into the twilight?
If that apple had not been bitten by a disobedient woman so weak:
we wouldn't have experienced any frightful events but happiness,
and certainly, our skin would have been smoother than a baby's cheek;
be assured that no attempt will stop neither time nor age from ravaging us!
Those of us
who have had guilty pleasures
of owning valuable real property,
like a car
and rental property
and office equipment
Office buildings,
solar inverters,
and nuclear holocaust delivery systems
but not privately owned MBA degrees
or merely intellectual property
or more intimately owned emotional properties,
Those of us
who know the mixed blessings
of owning organic and technocratic fragments
of climate pathologized,
yet still breathing, planet Earth,
especially if taxable property,
have heard about depreciation of values
over their natural/mechanical life/utility
health/power time.
We might recall
depreciation of property value
decelerates more gradually as time marches forward,
barring any unfortunate head-on accidents,
flying and melting and fragmenting damage,
accelerating astronomical crises
eliminating long-term realistic health-wealth values.
Depreciated suddenly to total loss of asset value,
now a global junk-dealer liability.
Anyway,
just as depreciation decelerates over time,
appreciation accelerates empowering resilience
with time's enduring health/wealth cooperative life-experience,
Organic systems accelerate
robust cooperative integrity
over a deep learning nutritious multiculturing life-time
of Win/Win climax learning
deeply curving synergetic ego/eco-relationships,
Growing in good-humored co-investment priorities
for story telling and listening
to resonant fulfillment co-opportunities
Rather than continuing historic depreciated taking
and Win/Lose epic slow-losing ego/economic depressions,
Anti-systemic pathologies,
realistic predictions of global chaos.
Retributive injustice depreciations
slowly fade toward entropic disorganization,
just the suffering and loss opposite
of exponentially appreciative Win/Win compassion
Explicitly conscious
of living interdependently between and within
autonomously natural depreciative law
and appreciative open-systemic/spiritual
yang/yin multicultural
left/right psychological
self/other empowering
appreciative
spiraling
deep listening and wide learning order
re-mixing depreciating curses
into old-aged exponentially appreciating blessings
of co-opportune climaxing climates.
Busses, cars, and airplanes, time flies so fast
minutes accelerates through the dial, small things lost to the past.
The world’s fragile treasures beg to be seen in a slower light,
simple things are fleeting indeed, when seen through the bug speckled glass.
The world is ever changing, clamoring to welcome defeat,
like a motorcycle running wild with the devil in the seat.
The earth spines through the cosmic winds, life is on a speeding course.
My view is slower, looking between the ears of a horse.
I see the madness and loss of freedom; the Bible reveals that’s the way it’ll go
when God is pushed away, rot takes his place, can’t be any clearer. I suppose.
They say, It’s better to close the eye and not see things so clear,
let it slip into shades of gray, like the shadow cast by a horse’s ear.
But what about the soldiers who fought the wars, so many paid the price.
What of a country that truants Christ’s blood and laughs at his sacrifice?
Concerning the little children, Jesus’s word rings clear
“He who harms one of these little ones there’s hell’s fire to fear.”
What goes into a man does not defile him but what comes out.
When the blind leads the blind, both fall into the ditch, that’s without doubt.
The downfall of a once blessed nation, like fools she leaves her borders porous.
I’m swaying away in ignorance, looking between the ears of a horse.
Romans 1:22 -Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools.
Romans1:28 And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge,
God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do that which is not natural.