Long Pulse rate Poems
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Today was the day for a medical appointment
to prove he was fit enough to drive
It's an annual event for which one must present,
when you reach the ripe old age of seventy five
What's the medication for your pulse rate
at forty three beats per minute why is it so low ?
Fifty years no medication, with gusto he decided,
he would surely let them know
Firstly he revealed , whatever he did eat
was only ever, organic raw
No food is ever cooked, no coffee tea or drugs
it's been that way for thirty years or more
At age of seventy seven he still can swing an axe
to chop a pile of wood
Still quite able to do all the things
as a younger man he could
Be it physical or mental
he has energy aplenty
To run six kilometres daily
be it ten or twenty
Daily exercise, play musical instruments
or just sitting in the sun
Choosing activities
that offer lots of fun
Focus on the breath
through the nose both in and out
Be aware of beauty, the birds , the trees , the clouds
where ever you may find yourself everywhere about
Complete a cryptic crossword, a trivia quiz or two
works the mind , slows the onset of senility
Meditation in the morning perhaps again at night
exhilaration, a sense of guided tranquility
Introduce Tibetan Rites, an ancient form of yoga
a therapy to reduce the ageing rate
As a soul upon this planet, we have free will for our selections
Face reality there's an outcome for the choices we create
It's almost to the point we will need another licence
for the vehicle called the body, which we inhabit twenty four hours a day
It's called a microchip or an ID card. Will you give it your consent ???
I request that every one of us, votes an emphatic nay
Susie’s cheeks glowed, her face burning with desire
She began licking her ruby red lips with expectation
So sure tonight was going to be THE night
Susie had waited so so long for this moment …
She was certain she wasn’t going to be disappointed
When she saw me her pupils dilated
She was feeling hot, so damned hot
Beads of sweat began to form on her brow
Her long dark hair stuck to her forehead
She brushed it away with a flick of her hand
Her pulse rate quickened
She reached out and held me in her hand
Her probing fingers examining every inch
She opened her mouth
Pearly white teeth gripped and she bit so hard
YES! YES! YES! YES! Her fiancé screamed,
He knew how much this moment meant to her ….
After five years Susie had finally won the National Chili eating contest!
Contest – How hot was it! – John Lawless
07~23~15
Time changes with life and life changes with time.
October grows too old,
Hobbling backwards
With the burden of years,
On the sinuous alcove of time,
Tenebrous and feathery,
Her hidden lamps blinking furiously
At the silhouettes of wasted days.
The wasted leaves of autumn
Break forth and dance down
With the weak speed of burnt confetti.
The clocks go back several ticks,
Schlepping on the tired sinews of
Broken slumbers interrupted by the alarm bells
Which ring up the dreaming souls of boarding schools.
There’s darkness upon the face of the dial.
I wonder how the hourglass fared back then.
Passers-by hasten their questionings ? “Fellow, tell me, please.
What is it o’clock?”
Oh, it is late. Roosting time!
“But why so late now when it smells so early?”
The clocks have gone back one hour.
And so darkness covers the earth for three months.
Then March, the bearer of thirty-one offspring,
Sprints with the brio of a restless stripling.
A Phillipedes,
Running from the sleepy west to the yawning east,
Fanning the embers of dawn as he speeds along.
And light fills the world.
The cockerels record each other's crows
In one-strength choir.
Venus is viewed yonder smiling proudly like a crowned star.
And light fills the earth.
The clocks sprint forward,
Ticking with the pulse rate of Ancient Greek runners.
Spring is the light at the end of the tunnel we know as winter.
Good morning! Wake up now… greet this day with joyous wow
God is good --- to Him, bow; trust His heart, He knows how!
Get up now, today’s great… exercise; check pulse-rate
Be well-fit midst health’s state; don’t get caught in sleep’s bait!
Enjoy life, keep glowing; with faith’s work, go sowing
Win God’s smile in doing; help others; grace, showing!
Lose not hope; stand up strong; choose to love; right the wrong
Worship God; sing praise song with true friends you belong!
From downfall, you arise; call to God with your cries
His answers of surprise cheer you up from pain-tries!
Continue with God’s might... pressing on upward height
Ever pray; show your plight, thank always His bright light!
Stay faithful, God’s servant; He blesses with grand grant
Providing need and want, making you triumphant!
*Psalm 73:1 Truly God is good...
Carpe Diem in Couplet form
August 7, 2018
Edited on May 1, 2020
1st place, "BRIAN'S CHOICE 1,any form,any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/3/2020.
sits a little swift
amidst violet flowers ~
flying bud on tied fly
mesmerizing tune
in the midst of blaring horns~
magpie Robin sings
long train swiftly moves
without a loco pilot~
trail of busy ants
engrossing odor
nearby sewage mess reek~
pure white flowers bloom
a pleasant moment
in the mid of worldly stress~
birds relishing pool
a rainbow springs up
in the monotonous life~
colorful flowers bloom
my plain flat pulse rate
embraces bright buoyancy~
perky squirrels roam
colorful jewels
walks around the fallen leaves~
cute centipede crawls
a bright beaming mouth
amid the slanderous words~
divine dawn Chorus
true hope emanates
even after failures hit~
a barren tree sprouts
a joyful write up
amidst the arousing thoughts~
stroll in my garden
A monochrome of boho days
segue one another surreptitiously.
Endless pantomimes of idle chatter flutter by.
Cantilever bridge, a one stop halting site for gossip and suspense.
Small talk, bespoke winged creature, Combe of pleuron.
Turin shroud spotter in the mise en scene melting pot.
The spirited stride of pavement strollers prompted by
agenda.
Metatarsals on the march.
Street vendor’s spooky cry with banjo beating busker at his side.
Dirt pan bellow and brittle strum about the
orange alert ahead.
Crowded car park, careening bus, frustrated taxi driver rank and file.
Backstreet Barney or kerfuffle on the lawn.
Swing sign overhead, a pawn in every trending breeze.
Office block malarkey cutting capers for the press.
New age ante-fix, the cover tile for corruption.
Whistle blowing wag inside the
city centre fault line.
Brass neck
reservoir of hoodwink high and low.
Harassed mother, barefoot beggar
nervously extends her rusted tin.
Guilt edge coin as bandage to our shoddy scruple.
Bag lady on the fringe of some haute couture complex.
Stasi-like security whose bluff veneer belies an inner
bludgeon.
Crouton salad diner has his finger on the pulse but not his pulse rate!
Tycoon in transition with an open brief!
Teflon tyrant
back to the future.
Ambulance chaser …. legal eagle…..with fortune in misfortune their calling card .
To the limit and beyond like an offshore Ansbacher.
Noonday bell
interloper at the scuttlebutt tavern.
Seconds out,
moments out,
hours in a hari kari haze.
Sensei’s of the left filling void with vacuum.
Laboured diatribe against dynasty, trite slogans, empty rhetoric, mannah from heaven?
All this from the cadres of social despotism!
Passage, the
pollinating insect of aroha.
Behind the rhythm of the grind a broad leaf grain of hope may sprout.
Green shoots of bounty.
Latent sidewalk bloomer.
Blossom by default or tender impulse
From a gem-encrusted window’s moonlit sash,
I peer vacantly on monetesque impressions,
as they wander every ink shade hue pathway.
bag lady street hail loner,
water colour lachrymose plight,
across the spillway nights-cape,
cul-de-sac of shadow flitting,
sprites begging to be daubed,
on some genie artist’s easel.
surreal urban pulse rate ,
spooky ghost form atom charge,
of tomb laden solemness,
sodden eerie platform where,
my silver bob tail auntie,
booked her tickets to southern rustic idylls.
she sang of autumn sunset blight,
its wan perusal o’er moisture ashen realm.
her final year on earth evoked dichotomy,
defying dissertation on that grey stone bridge,
between a luminous parade of diamond,
glitter and mirrorball municipal,
sandwich filler to that lamb,
of many bleats amid lush pastures,.
blossom facial hyacinth relation,
who once did eyelash blink,
those natural world Edens flowing,
thru her lyric laden pysche.
Alas that end of term eviction,
lifespan tenure landlord surreptitious,
in their reach cast a mural,
strain upon this tower block,
mythic folklore woman
It seems difficult to witness the last moments
Of your near and dear ones
But in reality I witnessed
The last calm heaves of my father
Without the slightest agony
My father
Lain on the hospital bed
Eyes half closed
With only the stare of death
Hazily glittering through the half ajar lids
Heaved once or twice
The monitor indifferently recording
The fast decreasing pulse rate
The incessant AC chilling the air
And then
It was all over
It was the perfect moment
I should have broken down on his still warm body
All the agony, pangs, tears abound
Following the impeccable script
But
I could not
I didn’t weep out
I just stepped out of the cabin
And felt dazed amidst the crowd
I even slept untroubled that night
The next morning
As I entered the lonely room of my father
And looked at the empty bed
With his specs waiting sullenly
His stick leaning on the wall
All his books pining silently
Perhaps they guessed their master’s absence
At that very moment
I felt something happening inside me
A benumbing cry rose from my heart
An uncontrollable one, it choked my throat
Tears, holy tears, bless me, enchant me
I really want to break myself free
From the deep, dark crevices of life
At the outset of the pandemic, a conspiracy theorist I was dubbed
Like many others who had doubts, an elephant in the room had now arrived
In many families and also friendships, as theorists, we were scrubbed
So five years down the track, I received a message from my seventy six aged accuser,
describing symptoms she has suffered , I believe ,as a result of being a vaccine user
Post operation to replace a dicky knee
immediate pulse rate , two hundred plus or minus thirty three
So what has been prescribed, it's called a beta blocker
keeps the pulse rate somewhere in the ball park
It's still pulsing around, one hundred and forty beats per minute
seemingly to me, still a rather rapid mark
Protection from the "virus" through the jab does not seem at all to exist
with covid reoccurring for this woman more times than the knuckles on the fist
There's also viral meningitis, allergies as well, she wonders is it the jab
what else would have caused it?
Was it forced? Twas a voluntary action,
no government agency enforced it
Here's a statement that she made: I'm fairly healthy compared to all my peers
Does she maintain beliefs about conspiracy theorists?
For me there's now much proof that validates my suspected vaccination fears
Footnote: this woman has decided to have no further vaccinations
I remember every minute of the first day we met,
It was raining, coming in to the reception you got wet,
At a mutual friend’s wedding, you came with a date,
You sat next to me, this was our destiny and fate!
You flirted outrageously with me from the start,
Love at first sight, cupid’s arrow reaching each heart.
You spilled your red wine on my skimpy evening dress,
You apologised my new dress looked an absolute mess.
But I had to quiet my pulse rate, which I instantly felt,
Cupid was in control, causing my heart to melt.
I fell madly in love that magic filled fascinating night,
I loved you from the moment you came into my sight,
You asked me to dance, I looked at you quizzically,
Oh don’t worry about Mary, you answered instantly,
She wanted to attend a Greek wedding and break plates,
Just a friend, certainly not one of my dates.
You kissed me goodnight on my cheek as we both left,
In my diary that same night I accused you of theft,
You had stolen my heart, my soul, and my senses,
I had let down my guard, there were no more fences.
The following day I got a huge bunch of red roses,
I love you, said the card, I was on fire, no amount of hoses
Could put this girl down, I was in a complete daze,
Everything misty with love, I was walking through haze.
You had to do a three week army camp, no cell phones
Then, so I just had to wait in nether land zones.
What happened we don’t know, to this day ourselves blame,
We were in love, but silly, aren’t all youngsters the same,
We should have got married then, but it took many years
Married, divorced, each with a son, met up with heartfelt tears,
Got married 6 months later, with family and friends present,
A very ecstatic couple, this lady and gent!