Long Circumnavigating Poems
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Anchors Aweigh...
destination unknown
for this Earthling
stardate: February 26th, 2022
At sea since time immemorial
I relish being alone
upon oceanic expanse
yours truly doth bemoan
me gal Sal (one among
numerous female confidantes),
no matter, she easily
mistaken as a crone
magical powers keep
her manning far aloft drone
as surveillance hovers above me
(to intercept encrypted
communication maintained
courtesy bluetooth earphone)
the two of us sol survivors
I feel like a foreigner since
global thermonuclear war
bombed webbed wide world
into pulverized power
vaguely similar landscape
to age of Fred Flintstone
and Barney Rubble
recurring memories redolent
of yesteryear, whereby I groan
though simple living
such as me and the missus
did Potschke coaxing homegrown
organic fruits and vegetables,
though, I attest we did
get violently angry with each other
and unwittingly cross interzone
where brickbats exchanged,
especially after she discovered
an illicit extramarital affair
between myself and Joan
since kindergarten her I known.
Weather beaten cap'n,
and watertight bewitched craft
time tested since maiden voyage
(circumnavigating the globe
back in the day of my youth),
I ranked tough as a pitbull,
when severely pitted
against raw elements
of swiftly tailored,
harried stylish nature
against leathery faced
reptilian skin, hard drinking
(actually as corked
poetic convenience - vermouth
arbitrary bottle of choice
if for no other reason,
than to rhyme
with the above line),
and tobacco spitting, while
colorfully swearing as an uncouth
Furies (of Agamemnon)
fighting (tooth
and nail) Pirate,
where rickets, scurvy,
and thrice unconscious,
currently ample proof
could not forsooth
bring me to Davy Jones's locker,
cuz I never wanna
get relegated to an underwater
whale schooled booth,
this raconteur can nonchalantly,
glibly, and blithely attest,
with braggadocio, despite
no warm welcome will
ever greet mine tinnitus
pained ears, I can plainly
imagine acrimonious retort
upon me behest
his far more'n lifetime
bobbing (like a sponge)
square pants float
buoyed atop crest longing e'en for
(carping, caviling, hen pecking,
or shrewish) wife.
Anchors Aweigh...Destination Unknown
Weather beaten cap'n,
and watertight bewitched craft
time tested since maiden voyage
(circumnavigating the globe
back in the day
of my youth),
I ranked tough as a pitbull,
when severely pitted
against raw elements
of swiftly tailored,
harried stylish nature
against leathery faced
reptilian skin, hard drinking
(actually as corked
poetic convenience - vermouth
arbitrary bottle of choice
if for no other reason,
than to rhyme
with the above line),
and tobacco spitting, while
colorfully swearing as an uncouth
Furies (of Agamemnon) fighting (tooth
and nail) Pirate,
where rickets, scurvy,
and thrice unconscious,
currently ample proof
could not forsooth
bring me to
Davy Jones's locker,
cuz I never wanna
get relegated to an underwater
whale schooled booth,
this raconteur can nonchalantly,
glibly, and blithely attest,
with braggadocio, despite
no warm welcome will
ever greet mine tinnitus
pained ears, I can plainly
imagine acrimonious retort
upon me behest
his far more'n lifetime
bobbing (like a sponge)
buoyed atop crest
longing e'en for
(carping, caviling, hen pecking,
or shrewish) wife,
and loving family
forsaken, sans living
antisocial upon briny deep divest
many opportunities to
experience wedded, webbed
and whirled bliss,
and hence for everest
as bachelor, especially
at present junction
of twilight years,
my crude manners
makes foreign (for
an) ill suited guest
boot e'en if yours truly
became inured to life on land,
(as a "FAKE" father figure
feathering his nest
my coarse behavior, as basic
electric koolaid acid test
would force even
the most tolerant proprietor,
perhaps a bank
manager at Univest
would utter VAMOOSE,
e'en if eye covered up
my heavily pierced,
and tattooed breast.
PHANTOM ROY
The Roy moves out
its an hour past mid nite
moves into the street
Phantom moving through the near empty streets
not much going on at this late empty nite hour
not a word uttered to the motor cyclist
the motor transport cyclist are strategically placed
waiting for their late night customer from i don know...
Phantom slides past them and moves up the street
purposefully as if on an assignment of great importance
sights patrol car which slows down on seeing phantom
the armed officers make a u turn mid street and go back
go back to where coppers emerge daily from
phantom movers further up the empty streets
another cyclist gang strategically positioned
gang disturbs his night peace.. where to bro..
phantom shaking his head not a word uttered
phantom entering an unlit street.. not a look back
phantom eying an approaching saloon car
which has just one right eye light...
saloon slows down driver saying something...
saloon driver reversing going back to wherever
saloon drivers come from in the hour past mid-nite
phantom proceeding further into a randomly...
randomly lit street.. its obvious hes now circumnavigating
the entire residential estate.... the phantom takes out
a camera phone and take a photo of his shadow...
which appears from the lighting by the overhead random
lighting.. phantom accessing a social network application
he uploads the photo under his real profile name on the site
he names it night of the silver sentinel
phantom moves back home and closes
his door behind him escapade over..
Its finally over.. such was the nite
of the Roy became the silver sentinel..
The wierd phantom ROY.. Strange Roy
Lewis k Nyaga
20/11/2014
The tip of a finger, barely touching ulcerated skin
Chamfered ache of reason, or finely balanced whim
Forced through a reality, where spoons become bent
Into the pleasure dome, they inject gaseous cement
Climbing on rope ladders, spiraling around a kite
Wrestling fallen angels, fighting dirty feel them bite
Lost all my inhibitions, its so embarrassing to say
Oscillating and twitching, surreal pictures portray
Sensing victory I keep goofing, running out of time
Finish line is furious, for committing such crimes
Living with rules is for suckers, I’m partial to a kiss
Goalposts keep changing, guess it’s worth the risk
Haphazard directions, circumnavigating the void
I’m delirious anyway, eventually all life is destroyed
Chasing weird dreams, in this semiconscious state
Staring blank at the ceiling, while my agony abates
At last the heavens open, broken arrow was called
O God it’s beautiful, cascading insouciance befalls
Forensics tend to differ, I’ve probably gone insane
Don’t care anymore, cos these drugs numb my pain
Writing Prompt - Ache - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
24/04/2021
plowing ahead she rises to the occasional
pique of future flowing moments unfurling from
the pages of the book stuck together like morning
eyelashes fluttering, no cause necessary, just practicing
push pull not the same as yes or no...paralyzed in some
moments along the river bank of fog, lazily drifting
doing some fishin’ I think...not sure for what
no bait...none taken, none given...albatross wings span
the globe, circumnavigating for something like years
age old pieces of me surfacing...can I really do this again?
pits in my stomach of excitement and whatever else
I can’t call it out because I don’t know what it is right now
trepidation about movement and yet, movement is having
her way with me sort of. The mess no longer supports so
something must give now...I cannot keep up the illusion that
I no long care...I do care...I want more than I have given myself
for a very long time...unspooling threads...cannot see as I am
apparently not a weaver of time...praise for the old folks who
walked the wisdom paths in our illustrious world...
Good night for now...eyes drifting into the downward dog...
Asta la vista baby...
Trees in my neighborhood walk around naked
On land, on ground, out loud below the clouds
Rooted in history stepping out on the town
Out of their depths somehow in hurricanes
Dreaming of becoming pirates lost at sea
Wooden limbs or legs that once limped along highways at home
Leap over waves, branching out opened to the ocean's roar
Sails unfurl on their mighty mast of power as hearty creaks
Circumnavigating not only the world but flowing sheets
Bushes can only shake in place as shrubbery
Everyone knows how boring shrubbery can be
Trees stop traffic when they fall on the streets
They can't walk on water
But given half a chance they can float
At sea it is easy being a tree
My husband and I were newly wed and cash poor. It was Easter weekend and the weather unusually fine for the time of year. Both loving the outdoors, we decided to cycle, circumnavigating our county over three nights. We traversed hill and dale, intoxicated by the beauty of the landscape. But late on the Saturday evening, just as Joseph and Mary had found on Christmas eve, every lodging was booked out for the festival. Locals eventually directed us to the abode of two elderly sisters, long retired from running a boarding house. As darkness was falling, they took us in. So weary was I, the bed felt as soft as eiderdown. A blessed sleep descended immediately. Before retiring, the sisters mentioned they would both be up at dawn, as always on Easter Sunday, to watch the sun dance with joy to see Our Lord rise again.
rising with the sun
those wishing to see it dance
on easter morn
They write me off when I'm down
say it's my place to underachieve
some say it to the point it's what I believe
putting belief in me makes a rumbling sound
fires deep down in me fire up breeding heat
self doubt annoys me up out of my seat
as the fury spreads new motive's found
when my thoughts obsess over the grief
and suddenly tricks pour from out my sleeve
surging tech tonic energy gains ambitious growls
shifting my focus positive with the air I breathe
and down from the bottom the tension relieves
thus propelling a catapult force up at the clouds
and I morph from my written off rock bottom seed
into a Superman circumnavigating the seas
killing the silent shy recluse now shouting loud
I may fall down, but I'm never out
and that means never, I love the doubt,
it's the start of the best I house,
I love silencing doubting mouths
Herald the star that blooms, the trumpet and the scroll.
O God the bluest eye, it magnifies my soul.
Encompass calvary, the greatest light that shines.
Beautiful Bethlehem, the azure Winter pines.
Infant swaddled in love, the lamb in his stable.
The Great Shepherd asleep, star’s clearest timetable.
The rhythm of the sky, adoration of blue.*
Wrapped in azure blanket, star hangs over the Jew.
Circumnavigating, ornaments of the earth.
O see the living tree, little hands scarred at birth.
Predilection to save, open your newborn eyes.
The cross present in star, the blue heavens arise.
At birth…his death waiting, The Light opens her womb.
Before he turns 40, he walks out of the tomb.
A blizzard of azure, two men frozen in fear.
They’d get a taste of death, fearsome angels they’d hear.
I sifted through my insides and decided to wear them on the outside
Just for the pleasure of it
Also to see the reactions of people who are flimsy and easily scared
My spleen is my greatest accomplishment
As it is so iridescent and pulsating
have you seen inside-out reversed eyeballs before?
It's a very introspective moment
I also decided that I don't want to pay for anything anymore
Yet, I don't want to steal from poor CEO's because they have a hard life
I just want steel bones
So that I won't bang myself up when cutting a corner too close while circumnavigating the
Globe
I feel your pain and it makes me horripilate in its glorious uprising
Of new thought process
Oh how I love this
Excuse me for a moment
The oxygen iz gettn...