Long Beltway Poems
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April fools' day - (ordinarily) all manner of tomfoolery abounds
Pandemic straps tightly plied girded beltway
unlike any other All fools day
in annals of recorded ("fake") history
western civilization tapestry doth fray
April first two thousand and twenty
neigh, no time for horseplay
what with coronavirus (COVID-19)
boarded ship of jilted fools
(think *****sapiens)
barred courtesy omnipotent jackstay
furloughed workers analogous
grumpy minions lay
dwarfed by unfortunate global events, née...
germinating, jackknifing, and wreaking havoc
Mother Earth nonchalantly toying
(indiscriminately) regarding humanity
as bestrewing bajillion biohazards berserkly
bequeathing bedlam child's play
just desserts, she doth understandably repay
man/womankind flicked as flotsam and jetsam
vile treatment diabolically heaped,
jubilantly loosed, maniacally pitched
upon her terrestrial firma oy vey
she chokes, gags, laughs raspily yea
rebuffs, refuses, and renounces further abuse.
Nevertheless toothless gumption, albeit feeble
fighting spirit, her survival instincts assail
cumulative environmental destruction
triggered casus belli expelling deadly toxins,
when Gaia doth exhale
since onset of global interregnum
(think virulent spreading poisonous Kudzu
like wildfire biohazard)
since world wide webbed disease
brought grinding halt
consumerist paradigm in lockdown,
nonetheless within brief interim
noticeable clearer air to inhale
amazingly enough postal system...
intact voila... uninterrupted delivery of mail,
the daily highlight experienced
among people emotionally crippled
pasty faced and pale
finds quivering captain Kangaroo
plus good n plenti proud primates
each quivering like a captive quail.
The Revving Roar of Rolling Thunder
Through the revving roar of Rolling Thunder,
amplifying along air and asphalt,
silent complacency’s cast asunder,
by the tour de force its riders exalt.
On roads and bridges, spectators await
the annual coast-to-coast migration
of Run For The Wall passing through their state
in tightly unified group formation.
Reflecting our country’s crossroads on chrome
the riders of Rolling Thunder emerge,
returning en mass to The Mall and Dome,
gathering strength as their chapters converge!
From Heartland to Beltway, we won’t forget
the debt we owe the American vet!
E. V. Wyler
Into the blue, another new dimension;
into the blue- our destiny is Mars.
A strong reality, long-term ascension-
into the blue among the planets, stars.
Those former sci-fi program memories
will soon become a realistic fact;
our NASA teams now speak of guarantees
that man of Earth on Mars is not abstract.
Into the blue they'll go; six months asleep,
suspended animation all the way,
in modules filled with six and wired to keep
all fed and breathing on their space beltway.
A new frontier for earthlings to soon tool-
to Mars, perhaps a planet in that space
where not too hot- too cold will meet the rule
that Mars is in our Goldilocks Zone place.
January 11, 2016 (revised 03/18/2020)
`Honorable Mention~
Contest: Goldilocks Zone
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Judged:
=======================================
Note:The term "The Goldilocks Zone" is used to describe the
"habitable zone around a star when the temperature is
not too hot or too cold." Dr. Charley Lineweaver, Stuart Gary
After the Earth, Mars is the most habitable planet in our
solar system due to several reasons: Its soil contains water
to extract. It isn't too cold or too hot. There is enough
sunlight to use solar panels.
Ah what fair moan
laden fantasy lassitude looms
large if this
chaste ole buoy got cornered
into an alleyway
by a bevy of beefy
buxom babes dead set
on hounding this
doggone codger anyway
shape or form eying
sole asylum madly
sprinting thru a narrow
cookie cutter archway
overlooking a multilane beltway
risky business risking
life and limb leaping
the immense height to
make a breakaway
inevitably configuring myself
into unrecognizable
Rorschach Test, when
ganged up by goo goo dolls
suddenly become permanently faraway
unless of course some fluke,
disguised a big yellow bird
rescues yours truly talons linkedin
to flesh pot, a gateway
timed perfectly with
what I surmised
as doomed getaway,
though while dangling aloft
(imagining myself sanity clause)
minus the reindeer sleigh trademark
accouterment and nary a giveaway,
but no idea when...
aerial salvation halfway
to destination thinking,
perchance mebbe adventure
will comprise entering
a wormhole hatchway,
an out of this world experience,
and without doubt
the most remote hideaway,
a thought raced thru my mind
this captive within
hinterlands of space/time
could be heading
along the highway
to hell, no matter where pathway
takes this beastie boy
even if fate somehow
finds me in Rockaway
or possibly alternate
universe of said placename
nothing infuses Earthling
with greater excitement
than feeling like a
truant proud runaway
entranced by the infinite skyway
analogous to ascending stairway
to heaven, only for
this celestial stowaway
that does land him
smack dab straightaway
into a parallel dimension wafting
my buttonose with decor of dames
intent to commence
cupid ditty underway
coon scent of woman actually
ache'n since commencement
of this "FAKE" quasi poem.
Confused
By Franklin Price
11/5/2016
I'm really quite confused
About the chosen few
Who run our Federal Government
And the things they say and do
How they got there in the first place
How they climbed the ladder up
How they went with best intentions
Then found they could fill the cup
Could make more than their salary
If they responded to the pitch
Now that they were in the beltway
And were noticed by the rich
They are still elected
By the voters at the poll
Are supposed to be there for us
Instead of being on the dole
Supposed to be a public servant
Paid more than living wage
If found they're taking pay-offs
Should be put within a cage
There's a problem with that thinking
If we removed all of the crooks
Would be few left there in Washington
To put the laws within the books
Would be few left there to serve us
To pass along the people's say
Must be crazy here to say that
They don't do that anyway
April fools' day - (ordinarily) all manner of tomfoolery abounds
(written last year
unlike any other
when out of this world
outlandish accouterments
people did wear
hermetically sealed
of even faintest tear
to avoid contamination
against coronavirus
when wing and prayer
soul saving amazing grace).
Pandemic straps tightly plied girded beltway
unlike any other All fools day
in annals of recorded ("fake") history
western civilization tapestry doth fray
April first two thousand and twenty one
neigh, no time for horseplay
what with coronavirus (COVID-19)
boarded ship of jilted fools
(think *****sapiens)
barred courtesy omnipotent jackstay
furloughed workers analogous
grumpy minions lay
dwarfed by unfortunate global events, née...
germinating, jackknifing, and wreaking havoc
Mother Earth nonchalantly toying
(indiscriminately) regarding humanity
as bestrewing bajillion biohazards berserkly
bequeathing bedlam child's play
just desserts, she doth understandably repay
man/womankind flicked as flotsam and jetsam
vile treatment diabolically heaped,
jubilantly loosed, maniacally pitched
upon her terrestrial firma oy vey
she chokes, gags, laughs raspily yea
rebuffs, refuses, and renounces further abuse.
Nevertheless toothless gumption, albeit feeble
fighting spirit, her survival instincts assail
cumulative environmental destruction
triggered casus belli expelling deadly toxins,
when Gaia doth exhale
since onset of global interregnum
(think virulent spreading poisonous Kudzu
like wildfire biohazard)
since world wide webbed disease
brought grinding halt
consumerist paradigm in lockdown,
nonetheless within brief interim
noticeable clearer air to inhale
amazingly enough postal system...
intact voila... uninterrupted delivery of mail,
the daily highlight experienced
among people emotionally crippled
pasty faced and pale
finds quivering Captain Kangaroo
plus good n plenti proud primates
each dancing and quivering
like a captive quail.
Here is a romantic love poem based on the specific situation provided, blending the dark narrative of the lyrics with the requested sweetly nostalgic tone of a first crush.
To My First Crush
I remember you in the school cafeteria,
Where the neon lights hummed like a distant prayer.
We traded glances over plastic trays,
In those innocent, Manhattan-style days.
You were the candy that I couldn't afford,
A secret treasure that my heart adored.
I sold my soul just to hold your hand,
A foolish bargain I didn't understand.
Now I wait by the phone booth in my mind,
Hoping for a love I left behind.
You took every dollar of my youthful trust,
And left me buried in the cafeteria dust.
Jesus is in heaven, but you were my saint,
Before the world made me learn restraint.
My poppa’s in the graveyard, my momma’s far away,
Praying for the words I never dared to say.
I missed the ride at the fair that day with you,
Now I can't get it back—no, I can't get it through.
So I’ll ride out on the beltway of my dreams,
Where nothing is as bad as it seems.
I won't let them take this memory back,
No, they won't get it—no, they won't get it back.
It was a candygram from a life unknown,
The sweetest sin I’ve ever known.
Bursts Of Creativity...
Asper myself tend
to occur late at night,
or early morn 'o follow
wing day unbeknownst
despite acute insight
how, when, where, why...
ideas swarm and bite
inspiration doth alight
try as I might to
coax, anchor right,
burning candlebox at
both ends during midnight
oil, and pry open hermetically airtight
noggin, where my poetic
(side) juices glommed up tight
blew silly blackened, and barbed
as though cold anthracite
ash coal lest futile effort
fueling mental cogs synaps (snaps),
sans each axon and dendrite,
and damn pinwheeling frenzied
writer's block won't budge,
no matter intense aghast fright
regarding drawing nothing,
but blank screen, an unpleasant sight
which activates greater fright
concentration stoppers appetite
to satiate agile literary skill
invoked with all mum might
encountering severe
resistance along well worn
nicked, pitted, rutted...
central processing unit abysmal sight
core cratered tracks analogous trite
other places blasted as if by dynamite
nanobot size infrastructure blight
hmm... huff frayed
to admit fifty plus shades
of grey pock marked beltway abustle
with at least bajillion
self important cosmopolite
avast friggin buzzfeed contrasted with bevy
of heavily rowdy, yet polite
sumo wrestlers exuding
spongy dimpled cellulite,
nonetheless grueling effort experienced
with craven half starved diabolical spite
undermining, jackknifing,
dogging... literary endeavor to expedite
satisfactory pièce de résistance flight
of fancy, though challenged
every step of the way,
once ambition fired up...at twilight
as mortal passion
unstoppable to complete
crafting daily poem
kindled with emotional lignite!
Oh, for a while it’s been crazy inside
the beltway,
no telling what insanity arises each day,
with a seemingly psychologically challenged
Prez,
for crying out loud listen to some of the
gibberish he sez!
He cares nothing for the environment,
he takes a wrecking ball to it, I’m spent.
Grocery prices can’t go down,
with our poor Earth’s global warming,
you clown.
Hey, the shutdown is hurting many
Including veteran troops,
as government workers are your target
you nincompoop.
We need to find migrant children who
disappeared,
not you worrying about suspending
late night hosts you jeered.
What’s with the bizarre hairdo,
and the orange makeup that looks
like you’re a new species in the zoo.
It’s crazy inside the beltway,
can we as a country find coherent
and thoughtful candidates, not goofs,
instead of a real life Mad magazine spoof. ~
Time and again
jovial imp does succeed
at collecting aggregate of infinite moments
nabbing, snagging and yoking yours truly,
a fortitudinous erstwhile
citizen banker travels at warp speed
impossible mission to thwart tempus fugit
analogous to ambuscade by time thief
little rascal who steals
most precious commodity
right before mine myopic eyes
abstract artificial construct
hastens cradle to grave lifespan
hoping chance fellow
space traveler will read
these words, though quite futile
one skeptic could believe
he would experience salvation
prayerfully clasping hands
he doth gently plead
for nought, cuz greed
for immortality a wish
that does exede
by lightyears the outward bounds
for *****sapien breed
damned to die at birth
destroyed by space debris
aliens purportedly buzzfeed
feeling akin to crash test dummy
at mercy where asteroid
can annihilate me I accede.
Seconds, minutes, hours
days, weeks, months
and years speed away
free falling thru space/time continuum
superfluous to request belay,
nevertheless yours asks
for custom made sturdy rope
quite an accomplishment
given such short notice,
which said contrivance
would necessitate being wrapped
(while remaining rapt)
ensconced within outsize
full body jacket beltway
resembling human cocoon
after I pulled up the slack
essentially gifted to dark shadows
twenty four seven -
resembling edge of night
all the while
loosely tethered courtesy gravity
though feeling comfortably numb
zipping by the dark side of the moon
dreaming about Old rotten Gotham
sliding thru behavioral sink,
this while yahoo (me)
courtesy tenuous connection
suddenly severed Earthlink
simultaneously mouthing "Aw, Snap!"
No longer linkedin
with webbed wide world
bitta bing bitta bang
voodoo spell suddenly cast upon
uber hotmail, whereby
his poetic side tumblr unlocked
subsequently he resembles
an infinitesimal across
celestial sea ethereal
poetrysoup amidst creation,
a mere cosmic speck afloat
canvas studded heavens
starry night gallery.