Long Nosing Poems
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A dozen or so things I'd teach my guys,
school children and grandchildren likewise.
When they are young kids, I would make it plain
they’re not to be blamed for a neighbor’s pain.
Simple: no biting, no pulling hair, no hitting,
no screaming, no pinching and no spitting.
Keep your hands to yourself, unless asked,
personal space should not be trespassed.
Kind words offered in peaceful voices,
sharing delight when someone rejoices.
Go out of your way to help those in need;
return disfavor with a friendly deed.
Avoid nosing in another’s business;
when you have done wrong, you promptly confess.
The Golden Rule I would teach inch by inch
over and over, their mischief to quench.
February 10, 2023
Beneath the high cliff, a river flowed,
Just near a bridge across a wide road.
On the other side of the river
A sandy beach stretched wide forever.
A canoe appeared just you and me,
We dragged the canoe on pebbles-free.
We saw a willow that gave us shade.
Just you and I in bathing suits stayed.
We talked and planned our prospective life.
Suddenly we found a bit of strife.
A bear came nosing in our canoe
In search of food, most birds away flew.
Bear went away, the canoe useless.
Killing the bear I would be ruthless.
We dressed just me and you, called the guard.
Soon he came and gave him a reward.
Next day we met, you and I, alone.
But in a garden in a soft tone
So we talked a lot, just you and I,
I gave her a ring and did she cry!
That's the story of just you and I
Placed 1
OLD AND NEW 2 : BOARDROOM
Jackal preyed on dimpled dolls
smiling gold on slender wrist
nosing down a slippery path
scowling schoolboy promoted
beyond his mediocre castle
Mammals sat on polished teak
coiffed moustaches, tonged peaks
feeding unclipped grapevines
old words and wounds
eating raisin muffins
Falcon scribbled notes
watching eyes serving
newly ordained masters
legalese from a previous
age flowed from fine shifting
fingers in a cage
Overgrown thyroid sat there
his infantry lost in teeming
townships blaring transistors
interrogators of another time
peeped at a polished tiger-eye
on his seat
Minds like noisy tools
drilled atomic holes in
the boardroom table
beaded headdresses falling
from fat oozing french seams
They will learn Christmas carols
in mint retirement homes
when the table losses its legs
©GhairoDanielsPoetry1997
Good n plenti riches abound
unreachable to gentle
hermit while aboveground,
human ship of state
fore'er stranded aground
only thru death do him part will
his grievous soul get spirited airbound
chokehold sensation ceased when freedom
against debtor's prison unshackled
humongous human corporeal being all around
to little monetary largesse
arrived too late to astound
pipe dream eternally left within background
jackass kippered, milquetoast pockmarked,
Goliath scarred, voodoo battleground
visible near completely bloody lovely bones
partly denuded flesh
buried shallow belowground
scouting, scenting, scrabbling
one after another bloodhound
clamors leaps and doth bound
nosing, trumpeting, yelping...
despite snout muzzled reinforced brassbound,
no deterrent grisly bared, limp, lifeless body
sacrificed at skull and bones campground,
despite decay tell tale
hunch unearthed mound
picked over remains evince sound
a sestet
If I didn't know what I know about truth
I'd give a wink, join the ranks of the uncouth.
Logical conclusion when dealing with guile:
Half-truths are just exaggeration's test
hyperbole - inaccuracy at best.
Little white lies? spout off, and smile.
"Thus yellow does for white (behind your back),
when what you put for yellow's, simply black."
to quote Fra Lippo Lippi's epigram
In conversation with someone who lies;
one-up-put-downmanship is not so wise.
Pretending to lie is just one more sham.
September 1, 2012
Author's Notes:
Fra Lippo Lippi is a poem by Robert Browning
Waterfowler’s Delight
Clouded marshes masking what may come.
Suzy's boisterous invitation over yonder grass
Dark shadowed spreads set to entice some.
As the glow of the East begins to amass.
Newly anointed awaiting the first blessing.
Old dogs hoping the spark will catch fire.
Light of day upon the horizon pressing.
Nosing sweet dew upon the poignant mire.
Blue and grays approaching whiter shades.
Dark decoys amidst water hazed with hue.
Breaths of pink winds follow forecasted trades.
Nestling in, head up, taking in one last view.
Grasses, reeds, trees and limb begin their claps,
Rattling and brushing in a standing ovation.
Shedding nights tears, tapping coats and caps,
Encouraging shivers of warm tingling anticipation.
Night choruses blend with day’s percussion
Clicks and rasps of metal, wood and springs.
Last words, rules whispered in group discussion
Silenced by sudden whistling of cupped wings.
Glancing at time wishing the watch was there
Edging toward one half hour before this sunrise.
A single, lonely, echoing report from over there,
Waterfowler's delight, peeling eyes to the skies.
09/25/2017
Bad breath Betty
Never had a steady
Or anything
Be it friend or foe.
Everyone avoided her don't cha know.
Then she went to the zoo
Met Evalynn
Who blew flowers through her nose.
Betty had to find out how that goes.
Evalynn said, "step near,
I'll tell you the secret
That no one must hear.
Lean closer now!"
And Betty did.
What she said would have shocked you,
But remember,
This is a zoo.
Animals talk,
And know what to do!
Betty was instructed this day,
To visit the zebra bay.
They ate bulbs,
Then pooped them away.
Betty scooted down,
And scooped the bulbs up,
Injected them all,
Without a hiccup!
A few days later,
Much to her surprise,
Flowers began to grow,
Out of her eyes!
Sweet smelling gardenias,
Fragrant roses,
Covered Betty's bad breath,
Better than all the rest!
She went out to town,
Started nosing around,
Soon made friends,
Became the class clown!
Now she is called Blooming Betty,
Even has a steady.
Has so many friends,
Her steady wasn't ready!
But Blooming Betty doesn't care,
Her blooming breath,
Goes everywhere!
Fake pyrotechnics bloom inside plastic strips.
The night gets colder
as Christmas carols limp on.
I slip away from the dull concert
into the unlit zoo,
sure that among the sculptured
caves and enclosures
beasts pace their plots.
Close by a large animal looms.
I smell the weight of it, a matted moonlight
awake under a thick pelt.
Eyes spy each other through electric bodies.
A restless prowler coughs,
fearful Impressions escape their enclosures
to hunt upon dark lost paths.
I have seen enough, or rather
I have not seen but sensed,
a curious peril nosing my presence.
Grizzly Bear or Bogey beast -
hard to tell.
Behind me
I hear children still singing…
a 1000 pound Hammerhead shark
swims past my cringing mind
on its way back to an unlit aquarium.
Wife's job vanished
Bank account diminishing
Future uncertain
Wolves are nosing at the door again.
My children smile at me,
Dance for joy when I come home;
Suddenly, no more fear, no worries for awhile
Funny how it takes all my concentration,
Such an effort of will,
To acheive, now and again,
The state of mind they take for granted.
The background noise of the big world is so high
One can barely think.
So I strive to rise above it,
To lift up and out of my little self
Climbing higher and higher
'Til the horizon's edges
Fall Away
And everything is Present:
No Future No Past
No Necessities
Only the one Conscious Moment
Shining here unbounded.
I see once more that I shall suffer for awhile,
But can this really touch my joys, my freedom?
- Only by my own permission.
No Joy without Pain
No Light without Dark
No Life without Death
Where are the sufferings of yesterday, of the years before?
Memories now, fading into the distance.
Troubles roll in, break over our lives
Then go, then come again
Sliding forwards and back on the tides of tomorrows.
I feel my pain, and close behind it
The world's far greater pain screaming
From its thousand daily wounds
Yet every day we go on, regardless
Fight the strain and it strengthens,
Let it break, then it recedes.
Do something, or nothing
The Wheel turns just the same.
Easily said, yet hard to do;
Nothing's more difficult
Than doing nothing.
My love runs deep, my senses alive and vibrant with her,
Countless small delights lay near to hand.
I've two children more beautiful than the stars
To gaze on as they sleep; drunken with love of them
- What matters some struggle, next to this?
Yesterday is lost to time, and tomorrow yet to be;
All I can hold is this One Moment - I must not let it fall!
I look within the Moment
Horizons Fall Away.
Reach for It - It slides away
Listen for It - no sound will come
- But glance away, be still awhile and wait
- It steals up in the wind and blows right though you, Singing.
It is like deep water.
On the surface everything changes, flows
But down below abides a Great Stillness.
Horizons Fall Away.
I Asked Myself A Rhetorical Question...
Asper daily expounding fostering
inchoate manifesting mod
er writ writing quality,
solitary scrimmage tackling
undertaking, yielding whir
ring, sputtering, kickstarting, and
buzz-feeding at competitive, communal
crowed did metaphorical trough,
where household named author's
top New York Times best seller
tier, overshadowing under
rated genre bending, breakout aspiring,
story board qualifying,
opportunistic newbie man
use script artful dodgers
mere dust collecting drafts,
anticipating to stir infectious interest
incumbent - at mercy,
tripwire activating quint
essential key, which anchors print
ting projected uncertain
popularity first edition,
awakening, guiding, nosing
asymptote analogy steering
reader toward nascent
scribe, where paper
back writer wannabe,
toils away incorporating subtle
(hook, line and sinker) techniques,
(albeit apropos literary
ploys, a true test tum ment,
viz sophisticated gambits
to massage late tint
prestidigitation abra ca dab rah,
sine non qua cogent
see kant, and tangent triggers
modest mien fortified, exemplified,
and downplayed akin
to unassuming Clark Kent
in his cape ably nonchalant
transformation into superman,
and/or more pointedly,
some original heft leant
to set apart striking
poignant implement
exhibited by aspiring
writer daily revising,
albeit gal or gent
his/her uniquely obscure
trademark, but
eventually keen agent
assays non-boastful writing style
im prim mature print,
sans unassuming swiftly tailored
harried style seduces seek
curing sincere overnight reverent,
well deserved kudos
comically marveling
at thee most im portent
salient strengths, per
hops hue moored opulent
quality instigates
affinity toward nascent,
bar riddle be, bill leading,
bud ding scrivener,
not necessary alluding
to a hypothetical outlier
thus, any similarity between the
above statement and
a living person perchance named
Matthew Scott Harris
purely coincidental.