Long Lizard Poems
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A coworker once warned me
"You'd better have a plan when you retire."
I half-joked, I was going to "turn lizard and sleep on a rock
and have the most spectacular weeds on the block."
Eventually I retired .... without a plan.
A rather reckless split-second decision.
I'd grown tired of the rats and the piper man.
Endless role-playing- shallow shop talk-the mundane tasks.
Halls filled with frog-mouthed back jabbers.
So, I walked away without a parade.
Like I'd done in high school decades before.
I tasted the illusion of freedom but was thoroughly clueless.
There was also the slow simmer of terror in my brain pan.
I retired without a plan.
40 hours/per is a large black hole to placate.
Goals are vague, a lounge in the shade of no urgency.
I've no sharp desire to tango with a society that's turned frantic and feral.
A hyper-rabid froth of mayhem and peril.
Time has turned into an amphetamine-popping entity.
While space is imploding and fragmenting.
My thinking is shallow, condensed without continuity.
I retired without a plan.
The months are blowing by.
Loves die, painting black holes where there once was light.
Acquaintances drifting away in nonchalant clusters.
I feel little desire to shock the world.
I sleep like a drunk infant.
Exhaustion is a treasured friend that stayed too long.
My hygiene has taken a big hit.
There are no company picnics to prim for.
I'm waddling around the last bends.
Paying hell's rent...a few months in advance.
I sleep on a rock bathed in blue light.
I retired without a plan, then turned into a lizard man.
"Blue Avians and the Poetic State of Mind
post apocalypse
the mother
sought the assistance
of Blue Avians.
when it came to
eggs stolen from a nest
who better than to
seek the assistance
of those ancient
wise creatures.
they had a keen sense
of the poetic.
without speaking,
they intuitively
understand
the misunderstood.
The Blues
shot right through
to the heart
of the matter.
Triangulation.
seated in
lapis lazuli
Merkaba
thrones
they fly
in fierce squadrons
sharp eyes, and minds
surveying the In-Between Place.
extra sensory perception
they lock into targets
reading signals hidden
under the radar
the cloaked
co-ordinates
of the Draconian
the great pretenders,
finding weakness
in the criminals’
fading camouflage.
slippery scales, light weights,
the Draconian
are bird bait;
too shiny,
inherent and inherited
reptilian, lizard minds
unsettling reprobates
in false light armour;
their dangerous enabling
supporting the
underbelly of it all,
their brother,
the venomous
Arachnid army.
The Blue Avians
saw deep inside
the Necromancer’s
deep indigo heart,
the blue heart of true mother.
they were for her
with faith
every time;
for like them, after all,
she also could fly
with the full strength,
the force of will in her mind.
they would fly
by her side. anytime.
they held no fear
of her motives,
her just moment,
her calling mission
for return of her child,
in the fullness of time.
they see
and they feel
the fierce call
of the Necromancer’s
true mind.
post apocalypse
the mother
sought the assistance
of Blue Avians.
when it came to
eggs stolen from a nest
who better than to
seek the assistance
of those ancient
wise creatures,
they possessed a keen sense
of swift justice.
they read
without speaking
truth in
the poetic,
a unifying
undying
poetically alienated
state of mind
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"I am the blue-lidded daughter of Sunset;
I am the naked brilliance of the voluptuous night-sky."
"In the sphere I am everywhere the centre,
as She, the circumference, is nowhere found."
Eye of Horus.
Horus.
Thoth.
Nuit.
It only took me one cap and one stem,
For the Halloween feeling to kick right in.
I took to the night,
Like a ride in a bike.
Please do not quote me on this,
But I really had to piss.
And in my one piece clown costume—
My poor pecker was not free to pee I was doomed.
A lush, drinking like a fish,
Plus I am lazy as it gets...
So I cut myself a pee-pee hole and found mushroom's tip.
And I continued to party, fading deep into my trip.
I was so high and way passed drunk that—
I had completely forgotton about my junk—I was lit.
Somehow I left out my magic wand; my lizard;
Hanging out like honey i shrunk the kids or a tiny little sliver.
If it hadnt been for the shrooms, no way could have I remembered;
What's her name tapping me on the shoulder pointing downward at my member.
My package was on display.
Man meat, free for all to gaze.
It was limp as limp could be, as if I was part of a parade.
The cat's out of the bag now.
My poor kitty was so sad, wow!
And to this very day it is blister,
Hearing, Hey buddy! How's little mister?
And this is how my story goes.
My life really sucks but it never blows.
I even changed my name; moved all around.
But the joke of Halloween never fails,
It follows me and we are bound.
No escape can be round from every farm to every town.
I tried every last trick in the book and
Finally, I have found,
An enhanced new look.
And now they tell tall tails
Of how it hooks along the ground.
Although I still eat shooms every year on Halloween,
I take time too think about my costume, just in case have to pee.
The End...
7-16-16
Poem submitted for My Most Embarrassing Moment Contest
DINOSAUR
Get combined term ‘dinosaur’!
‘terrible’ means ‘deinos’
and ‘lizard’ means ‘souros’
as Greek language follows.
Largest heaviest dinosaur!
Named Argentinosaurus,
looking nice and marvelous,
loved to sing song in chorus.
The tallest type of dinosaur!
with long neck, giraffe-like stance,
loved to leap, jump and to dance.
Long legs had great performance.
Think of predator dinosaur!
Preying on stegosaurus,
really ferocious,
but funny clown in circus.
Archaeopteryx: Small dinosaur!
Ancestor of modern bird,
not flying, seemed to be absurd,
expert to play billiard.
Troodon: Brainy dinosaur!
Belonging to wisdom-class,
always achieving marks: A-plus.
Nick name given: Thesaurus.
02/07/19
HM
'DINOSAUR (S) FOR CHILDREN' Contest by Line Gauthier
Lonely Lenny lizard was as sad as sad can be
He lived in the rain forest in a leafy green tree
Prayed his dreams for a lady lizard would finally come true
But he was so quiet and shy what could poor Lenny do
Wandering around so sadly with his head held low
He had problems with his long tongue so he’d tied it in a bow
Lenny crawled slowly and found a craggy rock
Climbed up onto it and oh boy he got a shock
A stunning lady lizard was basking in the shade
Lenny blushed bashfully; should her privacy he invade
She flicked her tongue towards him and caught a tasty fly
Lenny was delighted that he'd caught this beauty’s eye
He went and sidled next to her, she did undo his bow
Now no longer tongue tied Lenny’s words began to flow
That day they found true love on that mossy green stone
Lenny is thrilled with his life and no longer lives alone
2nd June 2014
Submitted to Carol Eastmans contest
'Favourite Poem I've ever written'
Achieved No 1 position along with all the other poems entered :-)
Submitted to L poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
This poem was inspired by just three little words from Darren Watson and my dream now is to turn it into an illustrated children's book.
I’ve walked a mile in the other man's shoes that have left me tired and sore. Each step has piled up through the years,
He had problems galore.
I jumped off a fright in Nashville,
my pockets can’t find a dime.
My stomach hungers for a burger and fries But my lips thirst for whiskey or wine.
I cling to the wagon, grabbing for a chance
So, I’ve traded my thumb for a boxcar,
swaying to the devil’s dance
The rain is slowly falling, and the lights of a bus stop come into view.
It’s a chance to rest my bones
and a roof to cover me too.
I start a little lizard as he hides
from the passers-by.
His perch is safe from worry his home is dusty and dry.
He eyes me with suspicion, his little legs
pumping up and down.
He lives his life in colors,
changing from green to brown.
He seems to except my failures
and he peeps up without a blink.
Could a lizard have pity for a tramp? It’s a notion, too shameful to think
An old, dejected dog trots by,
with pause he stands exposed.
The rain washing his ragged coat
and wetting his dripping nose.
I welcome him in for the night
making it a lowly band of three. Considering as far down as I am
It’s a step up for the likes of me
Summer speaks to me by waking me up early
Playing tunes of beautiful song bird melodies
Blowing cool breezes in early mornings
Creating chimes of rustling tree leaves
She speaks to me through marvels of elaborate spider webs
Through various trees’ dazzling green shades
Through fascinating designs on butterfly wings
Through flutters of humming birds and dances of dragonflies
She speaks to me by offering plums, peaches and numerous berries
And various melons, figs and delicious cherries
Growing scrumptious tomatoes in the garden for my luxury
Exhibiting vivacious blooms on rose bushes and crape myrtle trees
She speaks to me shining bright through brilliance of sunlight
Warming the afternoons and dehydrating grasses on hillsides
Crafting radiant sunsets and captivating afterglows of twilight skies
Generating buzzing mosquitoes in stillness of evenings’ dim lights
She speaks to me through an astonishing sight of a skunk mama and her adorable babies
Showing a watchful face of a raccoon sitting in an oak tree
Displaying an occasional slithering of a rattler or a snake native
Birthing numerous insects and active lizard progenies
Through magnificence of marvelous starry nights
Through frog croaks and cricket lullabies
Through precious waters of the lake
Summer speaks to me and I listen with gratitude in my heart……
*the full title is: Is It Art? (Something Higher than the Apparent) - Ode to Rudyard Kipling.
A Trickster mutters at it all:
"These pretty shapes from muck and clay,
And the sounds they bellow out,
Is any of it anymore than the shout,
Of a wounded bird?"
"And the politic, and the reason,
And the science, and all religion,
Is it ever anymore than the shout,
Of some triumphant lizard?"
"And when they mass and they mob
In armies like leviathan
Is it really anymore, than
A peacock in display?"
"And as they hunt and they harvest
In the field, is there any reason higher
Than, the ant hill crawling 'cross
The forest floor?"
"And why is it I will weep, as the mother
Coo's a babe back to sleep?"
. . . *i had to place the full title in the body of the poem because the title uses 3 different special characters not allowed in the title field.
I am low to the ground, covered lizard, I will always be
I am not easy to catch, even more difficult to see.
I have not been around for ages, this pun thanks to ice.
If I do say so, and I do, my rounded back is very nice.
Forensic experts spent many years wiring bones to see
What I looked like when I was alive, for the ice age truly scattered me.
My tail was my weapon, a mighty blade, tipped with big spikes.
Other dinosaurs stayed away from me and my vicious cousin, Tykes.
My favorite foods were brad-berry bushes, and lawns-cloth grass,
Bushes as extinct as me, probably unknown as the Ice Age came up fast!
We did not have TV, we did not have a car, but we had a terrific life.
Spoiler alert to this riddle now, a sweet stegosaurus was my wife.
this middle aged rue stirring bummer
haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold
ding Atlantic Seaboard
in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
brutally sub zero temperatures
from an occasional nor'easter
fiercely gripping hold
the majority years, sans this prolific
recalcitrant scrivener lived
in various and sundry abode
housed within Southeastern
Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
with 19*** zip code,
and during my boyhood recall,
how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
in preparation for planting time,
where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
many a green acre got tilled and hoed
despite feeling energized and refreshed
with arms and legs n'er fro zen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric
experiencing hearthstone nook
designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
and toes to make sure, i still got ten
soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
and floral kaleidoscope of color
aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
drifted toward approaching spring,
the season revitalizing
dormant natural inhabitants,
whose excite (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching from the lizard king.
This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date:
12:15 PM Tuesday,
March twentieth two thousand eighteen)
doth rejuvenate
inviolable hibernating animals
and plants, and me equate
to experience sensation,
whereby entire being does inflate
and (despite marital status),
nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate
no...no...no...please do not think this chap
mean spirited and under rate
the woman (at present taking a siesta,
and i breathe easy),
who oft times doth henpeck, a trait
inherited many a chic hen
(with tantalizing tail feathers)
now (until she awakens)
proscribing yours truly to wait
for my repast most likely ad hoc
moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock
senseless, the worst facet of self important jock
consisting of pop slop mock
Hungarian Goulash, a melange
of relics from age old meals
transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.