Long Dinging Poems
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"That's a dead triangle" the boy proclaimed without even a mention of his good name.
"Gotta smoke...?" the old man asked as he unlatched his case at hand. Pulling out sticks.
His time at the table to challenge the band, was upon him soon. His pinkie ring has an
onyx moon.
"You shoot lefty.... and a bridge is the quarter turn of a One"
"Seven sees four eyes of a sun....! You're good to move on."
What? There's a quarter turn on the horizon?
"The Angel isn't dead and the Dead aren't done...."
How many games have you played I asked him. His blue jeans were dirty and his hair was
thin. His hands were shaking as he drew one in... a long and steady breath, full of smoke
while his eyes sat firm. The hall was dim and around me I could hear the echoing players
call. I could hear clashing of the solidly striped balls.
Then without a reply, the old man turned his back to the wall. Removed his eyes from my
questioning stare and lifting his arm, took a shot through the air.
"Why am I here...." with the angels again...
Hey little girl, did you watch me play? I won that game the red head said. All I could do
was smile. Not knowing yet why once in a while, I'm confronted with strange realities, not
especially mine, but yours you see?
In her face with just seconds to spare I saw her life in a flash of red.... bloodshot.
Eyes in her head were not the kind I'm used to. Something about her ruby lips too.... the
elevator moved ever so slow as we stood there. Her towering height became quite,
apparent, my eyes to roll from my sight as I'm staring. Click please! Let the elevator
floor ding, I'm praying. I see her knees am I shrinking? I start blinking and breathing,
just waiting for the door to start dinging.
And then it did.
And the air finally came.
"Love an Angle and be quick on your game!"... her ruby lips flapping.
Then the red head was gone and I was still.Left standing.
76 tables in the den remaining...I'm exhausted when came
the first of a dawning while driving away in the morning, I realized...
I was called to the table, in play for their lives.
"But I'm not a man..." a whisper cried....
"Only sLight of a human inside...."
A fractal of Light now....
As homeward I drive, wondering how can it be?
As they're not alive. So what exactly, does that mean about me?
Form:
[Written last year, or perhaps the year before
But youtube was awash with parodies in a
Similar vein. Unless I didn’t look properly, I
Haven’t posted it before... so here you go...]
***
I don’t want a lot for Christmas
Food is the one thing I need
I just care that it tastes pleasant
Can you eat a Christmas tree
I just want ham on the bone
And fresh cream profiteroles
And some cheese that’s blue
All I want for Christmas is food
I just want hot nosh for Christmas
Food is the one thing I need
I just care that it tastes pleasant
Can you eat a Christmas tree
Make sure you don’t hang my choccies
Just above the fireplace
Sausage rolls would make me happy
Food is joy on Christmas Day
I just want ham on the bone
And fresh cream profiteroles
And some cheese that’s blue
All I want for Christmas is food baby
I won’t ask for stuff this Christmas
I can’t eat a dish of snow
I’m just gonna keep on eating
Under eating’s a no no
I want marmite crisps and salted
A Tuna and corn sandwich
I might even stay awake to
Eat a reindeer till I’m sick
’cause I drank some beer tonight
Hold on mate, my bladder’s tight
What more can I chew
Baby all I want for Christmas is food
Food
Fairy lights are shining
On the chocolates over there
And I found some chips and
Lager in my lair
And ’cause the oven’s minging
I hear microwaves dinging
Santa won’t you bring me the thing I really need
Won’t you bring peas and bacon to me
Oh I just want some nosh for Christmas
Chips is all I’m asking for
I just want to drink my gravy
Spam is right outside my door
Oh I just want to gnaw this bone
More than you could ever know
Make me chicken stew
Baby all I want for Christmas is food
All I want for Christmas is food baby
All I want for Christmas is food baby
The fact is you rhyme
like a flatulent behind
and that’s me kind
you’re a waste of time
and time isn’t indication you climb
stuck same place is basically decline
So it’s something you got in to
but it’s not what all do
many have a little clue
others listen to you
cus unlike you they ain’t ignorant
don't believe they know every stunt
like you do in an instant
furthest back far from front
I think this your only way too shine
but you over complicate the rhymes
with the image of a fake fool
singing songs unrelatable
about experience you aint been through
speak of ways that ain’t in you
Talk of being true
who you
acting red when mister blue
smoking on the green zoot
hello delude a yellow belly you
for years a career no one hears
a know-it-all without a clue
couldn't find a flow looking at water in the ocean
face it you're hopeless you're no one
dopey desperate and groping
a legless antelope anti-sloping
a deadweight wearing jokes thin
Ha ha as the years go by
other settle for a normal life
they had more talent and are more wise
but of course the size of the competition demise
so you think you’re one of the better guys
though not heard by ears or seen by eyes
sending out signals don't reach satellites
your albums and singles never satisfy
your gift was a throw away couldn’t sell
maybe you should go into your shell
and go away
cus the telephone ain’t gonna ring
you won’t live the dream and know what it bring
you can try from every angle
but you are up against guitars dinging a triangle
It’s time to unplug the mic and abandon the band
cus you a man they don’t demand
quit the hobby you call a job
get a job and shut up your gob
Twas the night before
'Twas the night before Christmas and all around soup
Not a poet was writing, no words from the group
And I, with my paper and pencil in hand
Had just settled down at my new writing stand
I wrote out a poem, but waited to post
To hope for one poet, well two at the most
Then turned off the site as nobody was stirring
It was getting late and my eyes they were blurring
I thought that tomorrow would be a good time
Or maybe the next day to send out my rhyme
I closed my computer, it shut with a snap
Decided to go take that long winters nap
When all of the sudden my phone started dinging
Like church bells on Sunday, just constantly ringing
With messages falling like snow from the sky
One after the other, they did multiply
I opened my laptop and clicked on the site
And waited until it was glowing so bright
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
So many soup poets were spreading good cheer
I reached for my words and then typing so quick
My poem a gift and I felt like Saint Nick
When I had to pause and just think for a while
Because all I wanted was to bring a smile
They don’t need a poem that’s written by me
Just nice happy thoughts that each poet could see
So I paced and I thought and I thought and I paced
Then wrote down some words that I quickly erased
I had a few cookies, a nice glass of milk
Put on my pajamas, they were made of silk
I glanced out the window, the street was aglow
With bright colored lights, such a beautiful show
Tossed some more tinsel atop of the tree
Straightened the star so the neighbors could see
Wrapped some more presents with ribbons and bows
Not very good and each package it shows
Sat down again every thought it was whirling
Like red and white sugar on candy canes swirling
When suddenly something came clear to my mind
Such wonderful words that were happy and kind
So I typed out this message to post on the site
“Merry Christmas dear Soupers, to all a good write”
11/26/18
Written for: The Night Before Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
I wore my new shoes to the store.
They fit but they hurt.
I love how the laces come undone and trip me.
I love the chicken salad sandwich I get at the deli.
I love the notebook I write my list of groceries in.
Waiting in line to check out.
The thing about lines is, no matter how long they are, you can’t die.
Or you will lose your turn.
Dinging and beeping sounds.
We pretend it’s ok.
I hope the store doesn’t lock me inside of it.
Maybe I should have bought the cream cheese…
It was on sale.
Nothing will ever be ok again.
I almost tripped.
I dropped my grocery list.
Nothing will ever be ok again.
Neon lights twinkle against the velvet, dark skies,
Ferris wheel spins like a huge ring of fireflies;
Shadows sway in the pavement, tents, booths, and crowds,
As bright bulbs bring glare to cotton candy clouds .
Iron tunes from colorful carousel
Equalize clanking ride near the dinging bell;
Laughter listens to chatter screams in delight,
As hush whispers before the ride drops from height.
Sweet smell of chocolate, popcorn, and browned dough
Blends with oil from ride's engine in hot wind's blow;
Jumbo burger melts on the tongue bathed by Coke,
While the air is mixed with words of grease and smoke.
Young ones in a dreamlike world within nighttide
Savor the spot where pain pauses and woes hide.
The memory of your voice
bounces off barricades I've built in my mind
It pinballs around the rooms of my heart
looking for a vacant space that will listen
Dinging unheard bells, rerouted by
little plastic swinging gates
Bumping blindly into walls
You'll never find a way in again
Anything you scream now
only lands, quiet as a moth-dusty and pale
on closed ears
The most ghostly earth exhale
could not deliver, to the deepest parts of me
what it is you want to say
That voice. I sent it to the fires long ago
And planted an ocean all around
to keep it contained
I am far away now, calmly cool, refreshed by freedom
With every clean inhale
I sail closer to the silent horizon
Phones are dinging. Pinging. Singing.
Different melodies, some loud, most proud.
Skinny girls are walking around, not eating lunch.
Maybe they have not eaten lunch for months.
They are all taller than I am, probably thirteen or fourteen.
It is a preteen clothing store, and I am with my granddaughter
She is trying on swimming suits, over my protests.
I said “Your mom does not want me to let you buy a bikini.”
“Oh, Grandma!” she said, and laughed at my old-fashioned ways.
She ended up buying two of them; they both fit in a sack big enough
For a pair of salt and pepper shakers.
We are shopping for her birthday.
She will be fourteen on Friday.
In medieval times, peasants began to weep
when beneath the castle, in a stronghold deep,
flames from mouths of dragons began to sweep
over the realm, tired of dinging too long on sheep.
They took to wing, soaring with swift speed
Searching for tastier meals upon which to feed.
"South" screamed Blathazor, the eldest decreed!
The others obeyed him. Glad they had been freed!
Weeks passed and humans lay dead.
Others tried hiding, living life with dread
but the gluttonous dragons were all well-fed
feasting on villagers with rampant bloodshed.
They gutted the land of cattle and deer.
Each day another dragon seemed to appear.
Those who remained alive were terrified with fear.
Word of the demon dragons had spread far and near.
What brave hero would be found so adept
to kill the evil dragons in the cave as they slept?
A wizard flew down on his magic dragon, Culdecept.
whose flaming power destroyed them on his intercept.
October 20, 2022
Painting Prompted Contest sponsored by Lisa YY
Written to coincide with painting #4 in 157 words.
As the evening draws to a close ,
the clock ticks fast and time goes past.
Soon time reaches to midnight thus a new day begins. All is peaceful and quite no birds dinging their morning song. No foxes cats howling to disturb the peace.
What tranqulity greets the morning even though thenights darkness still resides till morning rise.This Nature stirs snd the birds too. For some their night shift is finished
hip, hip hooray.
The Early risers it is a brand new day.
As for the Night Owls who's mind is so alert
but yet your eyes hurt. Your brain is finding one and a million things to do except the one thing your eyes and body crave.
Sleep ,rest your wary mind .
Let go of the stimulus , unwind , relaxe and close your eyes.Let sleep embrace the night owl now .pleasant dreams night owl for the day is risen. Fear not you are safe things will still be there when you awake and
All will be well.