Long Dash off Poems
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In late hours when I should be sleeping
Peacefully beneath the down duvet
My mind races on and tumbles over words
And thinks of things I've yet to say.
It starts poems running through my head
With endings just a little out of reach
And so I stay awake and write.
My creativity I beseech.
If thoughts would come by wholes not halves,
Poems I could dash off left and right.
But bits and pieces is what I get
While trying to sleep late at night.
So pen and paper my bed-mates be.
I keep them close in case of need.
To jot my jumbled thoughts down on
When the start of a poem plants a seed.
I should be sleeping this I know
But turn them off I cannot do.
So poetry starts and stops all night,
And these sleepless nights, I've had a few.
As the darker days are approaching and it's nearly Halloween I wrote this poem. . Also on my Instagram account daisymeadows2023.
HALLOWEEN
Lighting up the lanterns all around,
Witches cackling by the cauldron,
Can you hear that chilling sound??
Mixing up their mysterious potions,
Menacing looks in their eyes,
Don't be fooled by the witchcraft,
Or of any disguise!!
They are full of trickery!!
Don't hang around!! Run!!
Hide somewhere they can't see.
There are monsters and spooky shadows,
Children in costumes, roaming around,
Halloween again!!
Trick or treaters have they found??
The moon looking down with a watchful eye,
The misty, dark night scene unfolds,
Halloween begins,
As the mysterious story is told.
Chill in the air and howling sounds of dread,
I quickly shut my curtains, lock the door,
And dash off to my bed!!
Birdsong wakens me at the crack of dawn
I try hard to get back to sleep until the early morn
Heading for the bathroom I ‘tinkle’ on the loo
On rousing I think its something that most people do!
Straight off to the kitchen and I turn the kettle on
I hear the button ‘click’ then make a cup of tea for one
The toaster pops up and I spread jam on the toasted bread
I always have some breakfast so I can face the day ahead
The radio greets me with news, some happy and some bad
Tragic events across the globe make me oh so very sad
I run the bath and relax then splash in the soapy bubbles
Wash away my cares and de-stress from my life troubles
Then after I get dressed I slam shut the front door
I’m off to supervise exams; it’s a job that I adore
My car engine purrs softly during my trip to work
I sing along to the radio, I sound a complete berk!
Into the exam room hall we creep and get it all prepared
Soon student’s sit in silence – some of them look so scared!
I dash off to the grocery store; tills bleep as they are really busy
The music in the shop is so loud it makes me feel quite dizzy
Soon I am home again and its time to prepare our tea
Steaks sizzling in the pan for my husband and me
I clatter around the kitchen busily clearing up the mess
Carelessly drop a plate on the floor, it shatters I confess
After tea I hear my husband loudly snoring away!!
These are a few sounds I have heard during my day
Sounds of the Day Contest Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
06~18~16
Joie de vivre courtesy Melitte A Goldsby -
NMLS ID#639704
Citizens Bank manager
in Trooper, Pennsylvania
lit up space like a live wire,
and I braced myself
against shaking our hands
(upon first greeting me
after walking thru the doors)
lest a shock pass thru me
analogous to a lightning bolt
striking yours truly out of the blue
after seeing her
standing righteous and proud
(as she rightfully deserved
acquired her station in life
courtesy indomitable perseverance,
I presume most likely never did tire
what with an outsize personality
that would charm
the skin off a snake
and the smarts to match),
thus prompting me
to dash off a feeble attempt
regarding this wordsmith
to resolve his
checking account quagmire
after being suckered
into one after
another centsless imbroglio
falling prey into poor man's
monied pipe bombed dream
gullible and naive to compromise
relative safekeeping his deposits
yet somehow found myself
at the mercy of short,
nasty and brutish
trolls rubbing their
weather beaten hands in glee
when ensnaring a once
happy go lucky boy
essentially being affected courtesy
an anonymous byte size notifier
that meekness and submissiveness
signaled to bullies think Charlie Brown
the renown targeted
victim as a vulnerable kite-flier
whose kite went no higher
than the kite eating tree,
whose foiled attempt
at a Lucy free empire
like a metaphor
for the writer of these words
stumbling into pitfalls
most of his own making a buyer
into the implication of the maxim
"if something is too good
to be true, it probably is"
disregarding a warning to be skeptical
of offers or situations
that seem unrealistically
positive or beneficial
taking the bait
from snake oil salesman
pitching me head over heels
into a grave situation
of my own making
exhausting every last ounce of energy
only to find myself
deeper in a black hole
where red is the new black,
especially pertaining to money matters,
and I pay thru
emotional/psychological nose
exacerbating an already
anxiety prone baby boomer
soon after the beneficence
as high a caliber individual,
but interestingly enough
none can exceed
the esprit de corps of Melitte A Goldsby
principally with knack
to rectify his out of balance accounts.
T railing along a serpentine lane, curiosity allows
H unt of one mysterious journey where glimpses trace
E vening's silhouette reflecting a dream-like scenery.
H eavy vines enshroud an old manor’s archway
A s I peep quickly through its blood-stained corners --
U nderneath, ravens hover while evening befalls
N ot knowing my dress gets caught on a thick nail,
T hat hands quake while freeing its hem. Grotesque the room’s decor
E ntwined are torn drapes, candelabra, and antiquated portraits... I run
D efying moon’s bold sheen almost vague now, undone.
H eart pulsates from loud whimper of voices in hiding--
O angels dear, I need to escape, what could be my options?
U ntil a knob opens through zoom of intemperate breeze
S hrieking, hollering down a cracked ladder, feet dash off to
E nd this TERROR, a night’s venture, macabre.
The Haunted House (Scare Me or Make Me Laugh) Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart 8/29/2018
I pump my arms, my legs
through chlorinated fluidity,
hopeful of shaping up,
not shipping out.
up and down, side to side.
sinking weights.
still wet, dash off to my car.
vinyl and towels on the seat.
wouldn’t want to be pulled
over, wearing only a coverup,
but I want
for my shower.
to the top of the hill.
Oh! Deer!
spotted. no two. done.
no three. the fourth
has huge antlers. stops.
I’ve opened my window
so we can stare at each other.
we have our moment.
so four. no, five.
the final oh-deer
pulling up the rear,
not as robust as the last. done.
now, for the shower;
and to show hub’ the pics
of trees wagging tails,
antlers in the midst,
and the watered down animal
snapped in my itty bitty forest.
(alternately titled: venerated
uber transcendent state haint give me no lyft)
Ultimate mission (ofttimes possible)
closed eyed insight courtesy meditation
ideally buoys state of consciousness
to naturally induced doze zen realm
disgruntlement arises if yours truly
unaware headstrong winds overtake helm
I invariably drift into light sleep
hours later jostle awake
(analogously experience self named
compressed Rip Van Winkle syndrome)
just smidgen fifty plus shades
gray grizzle coating chin
clumsily amble toward nearest sink
splash cold water across face
apply towel - daub cheeks
various sundry mucus loosened
thick globs phlegm
subsequently, significantly, satisfactorily
expel smallish secretion
out nostrils (pressing
one damned nostril closed
expelling repeating process
other nostril cleared) Semitic nose
clean as a whistle
don glasses to espy time
digitally printed white
within rectangular panel
courtesy electricity illuminating
Verizon set top box
reckon eyes clockface reads
what the ƒ*©* in dog's name...
of Sam Hill, Judas Priest, Matthew Scott...
dadgummit yikes, the time
way past bewitching hour
relaxation cast sleeping spell,
I awoke with a start
'curse saliva drooling and curdling
chin see? ole beastie boy body (mine)
aging baby boomer codger
don't be fooled by
boyish good looks (mine)
nevertheless feral, corporeal
being somewhat refreshed
particularly quaffing
CALIFIA COLD BREW MOCHA
to smooth edges jagged grogginess
thus set self able, eager,
ready, and willing to dash off
aforementioned poem at expense
handily deferred (furloughed)
exercise ma moose hills with
two fifteen pound dumbbells
least till complete literary task
which syrup rise ending snuck up
from outer limits of twilight zone.
As my tripping footsteps
enter deeper into the path of intense darkness,
I start feeling the trance of trepidation
and much despised misery
seaps through me with a sense of admonition;
the night owls cold eyes immovably glare
to confine me into their scary stare...
until I dash off rapidly!
Sunrise,come quickly
to subdue my forethoughts of dreadfulness
into this night without stars!
I look up to a dark and unwinkling Universe...
exposing me to an enormous unrest:
will it be a deluge or a tempest
to end all traquillity?
Whatever threatens me invisibly,
or compels me to fret...
won't cause my courage to lessen:
contrarily, it will increase it even more...
'till I find another path;
its a risk worth-taking to befuddle any enemy!
Sunrise,come quickly
to bring radiance and harmonious sounds
over this tempestous sea,
which keeps away all the discontented gulls;
sunrise, come quickly...
my entrapped spirit longs for liberty!
Our eyes met across a crowded room
You blew me a kiss and it lifted the gloom
Strode over to me and asked me to dance
I held on tightly – wasn’t missing this chance
The attraction between us now is woken
Our eyes conversing the only words spoken
I pull you close your shapely bottom I'm clutching
Our lips so close though not yet touching.
My eyes fall upon your left hand
There was a telltale ring sign – I didn’t understand
How could you be acting like you were really ‘free’
I don’t want to hear 'my wife doesn’t understand me'
There is no ring because I was betrayed
If she had been faithful I would have stayed
I won't deny it was painful but life is too short for regret
Truth I've been seeking and truth I've just met.
Well I’ve heard it a thousand times before
We’ll end up as lovers then you’ll walk out the door
I need a man that I can really trust
Not one whose eyes are simply filled with lust
It is not lust within my eyes you see
But an appreciation of all that could be
Feel our hearts beating chest to breast
Allow the truth from our hearts put your fears to rest.
There is a look of honesty in your big brown eyes
I find you so attractive that fact I can't disguise
So lets take things slowly it's a chance we cannot miss
Out lips lock together in a tender kiss
Happy to take things slowly, what need have we of haste
I feel I am in heaven with my arms around your waist
I swear I almost fainted when we sat down on the bench
You reveal your inner passion with our kisses turning French.
Just as passion is rising my mobile phone it rings
I pause so I can answer it and the news it brings
My husband he is on his way, oh damn I forgot about him
Better dash off my love and forget this night of sin.
6th May 2014
Written by 'JaDazzle' - Jan Allison and Darren Watson
I wrote a great book, part memoir, part novel
Shopped it around, I ain’t too proud to grovel
Got kicked upstairs to a big publishing head
He invited me in, and here's what was said:
This screed you call Crack House of the 13 Gables
Is one long rant mixed with recycled fables
It wanders aimlessly, but never resolves
Characters pop out of nowhere, then simply dissolve
But the symbolism, sir, allow me to explain
The Victorian parlor represents pathos and pain
In the attic are mothballed broken dreams and betrayals
It's gonna shift your paradigm right off its rails
It’s a thousand-page odyssey into the surreal
The hedge maze is where all 14 sub-plots congeal
Enough! The only reason I called you in, punk
Is to meet the lunatic who scribbled this junk
So I slunk away, not a little dejected
Ain’t much fun being literarily rejected
Trudged back to my grueling, stale coffee grind
Working 15-hour days, going out of my mind
Then one day I met an old pal for some beers
Hadn't seen him in quite a few years
I told him about my rejection slip wrangle
He said buck up, you just need the right angle
I like reading novels, now don’t get me wrong
But writin' 'em, man, that just takes too damn long
And what a huge risk, 16 years you devoted
For no payday at all, just your ego imploded
There's no need to pen the next Moby Dick
Try something short, now that is the trick!
So, I thanked my friend for his most sage advice
And took it to heart without thinkin' thrice
And now I am back as a voice for the ages
Except I'm makin' my mark in far fewer pages
I write sound bites and maxims and pithy remarks
T-shirt slogans and jokes, I just do on a lark
I bang out poems and lyrics at the drop of a hat
Dash off 17 syllables in ten seconds flat
Haikus by the bunch
Cook up a batch before lunch
Put that in your pipe
____________________________
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