Long Slip on Poems
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Have you ever had this happen to you?
You're walking along, minding your business
When a pole leaps out in front of you
Rattles your brain leaving you senseless
Inanimate objects aren't so inanimate
It seems they have a mind of their own
You're strolling along when a boulder appears
Stub your toe and it hurts to the bone
Sometimes when your patio doors are clean
It's just like there's no glass at all
With a confident stride, you slam into them
Smash your nose and you try not to bawl
You're running for a bus and then it happens
You slip on a discarded banana peel
You wind up with your bum high in the air
Doing amazing acrobatic cartwheels
You wonder how these inanimate objects
Seem to know when it's right to attack
It happens when you surely least expect it
And your wheels come right off the track!
© Jack Ellison 2014
Pleasure is pain
When touch sparks gain
Pain prompts pleasure
In fake measure
Think upon thoughts
In shady plots
Thoughts that you think
Slip on vain brink
Pure physics tells
Space and time gel
Tell physics then
As form grows when
Truth is a face
When time knows grace
A face greets truth
Feel grace fund proof
Time and space mesh
A funny flash
Mesh space and time
In cosmic rhyme
Sense ample spheres
Abrupt right here
Spheres beyond sense
Transfix odd tense
Old makes new how
How circles now
Leon Enriquez
26 July 2017
Singapore
(continued from While Caesar watches for Brutus Part One)
Then you think of a face you love, those prayers begin
You try to crawl safely back in
The crowd disperse with taunts of " chicken"
You reach for the priest's hand, you begin to stand
But you slip on a pigeon's shhhhhh........
You awaken in a body cast from head to toe
Napoleon and Caesar are debating the earth's woe
Nurse Ratchet comes in and blows a pill down your spout
You've bought a one way ticket to loony bin, with no way out
The world is so mechanical
It's becoming so scientific
It is getting to be so-so difficult
Your eyes search for answers
Your lips mutter why
Then you glance and Napoleon walks by
He salutes you, his wounded comrade
And kisses your cheeks
You smile, Napoleon smiles
While Caesar watches for Brutus.
I only tell of sunny hours…
For me the trail of time disappears
in the depth of darkness at sundown,
but my mind doesn’t harbor any qualm,
I dream drenched in stardust of stellar sky…
I’ll trace the blazing heliacal trail
across another dazzling day waiting.
Let the beam of each new sun
slip on time-telling edge of your style,*
count the tides of time on the dial of life.
The chronology of your journey I’ll chronicle
as the defined shadow of soul revolves
around the static centre of timelessness
till it glitters in bliss eternal.
Watch with me the girdle of rotating time,
you’ll see the dawn open petals of wisdom,
in the best of times you’ll live the sunny hours…
(Note : *style is the edge of the gnomon which casts a
shadow on the sundial)
Written : February 4, 2019
April 13, 2020
Contest : Strand Pick 11, Any Theme, Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand
What does it mean to be a dream? To lose yourself in the veil of forgetfulness,
Moments after you were born from the dust of past time,
Unraveling the thread of the story, piece by piece, without order,
Trying to grasp the meaning but never fully knowing it.
Some dreams throw me into the middle of a cold and desolate desert,
Sweating and gasping for air that seems a mirage.
I slip on ice hard as stone, yet fragile as a dream,
Which shatters and throws me into warm, steamy waters.
Submerged under frozen ice, in a strange desert,
My floating body feels no pain, only silence,
While the one on the bed dreams in the dark room,
A dirty and empty room, like a lost heart.
In my mind, a desperate cry demands release,
A pain pulsing like an echo of hidden guilt.
I silence the cries with tears and brute force,
Binding it in chains, only to weep in isolation.
The poor soul hopes that one day I might free it,
But it doesn't know of my love for emptiness and silence.
Every night, it shows me elaborate paths of torture,
Grotesque and tormenting methods, yet I do not change.
When the sun rises, with tears in red eyes,
I lie motionless on the bed soaked with dreams and dirt.
I sew my heart only to have it torn apart again,
And I wonder, what does it mean to be a dream to you?
You don't always hear me complain.
I love the warm sun, the summer rain:
The springtime flowers and the autumn leaves;
But when winter arrives, unfortunately I start to freeze.
I like it when the temperature is 40 degrees,
And not when the snow is halfway to my knees.
Now I don't mean to sound snooty.
When I slip on the ice and fall on my booty,
And the cold North winds hit my face and nose,
There's nothing I can do, I suppose.
The fact remains that I don't want to be frozen.
Now I leave you with my favorite slogan:
Some folks like to frolic in the snow for kicks,
But brothas, like me, and cold weather just don't mix.
M,
"If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around, does it still make a sound?"
the sound akin
a honey bee
guarding her hive
alive
with tiny wings
not letting
not forgetting
anyone
shan't slip on by
the dance
floors tapped
mouths taped
trapped
together
as shuffles brush the polish
illuminating
off the dwellings
of her naked floor
resound
praise
a knock upon the door
echoes
chambers
on knee
begetting
soul
deepened in pools of green
a serenade
the world hath never seen
inside
growing rings
wrapped upon a tree
beginnings
blooming
branch reaching branch
two entrance
eye to eye
we climb, we climb
worlds escape
eclipsing to be free
passed in between
intrigue
allure, amoré
attracting
moments evermore
a tongue, a key
a Bee
ever free
Do You Know What Really Get's Me Going?
When I'm about to slip on a banana and someone yells " Wait" way too late.
When someone hurts or wounds an animal and
call it a sport.
When I'm waiting at the bus stop and the
bus driver passes me up.
When people are staring at me and I wonder why, I find out later that I have toilet paper hanging out of my pants.
When I greet someone in a friendly manner and that don't say a word.
When I go to a restaurant and order soup and its lukewarm.
When someone wakes me out of a peaceful sleep at 12:00 am.
When department stores put the wrong clothe size on clothes on purpose.
And that just to name a few!!!!!
Inspired by the " It Really Gets Me Going Contest" by Kevin Shaw
5-18-19
Alexis Y
It feels like today
is falling into place
when I determine your face
It is bright…
A touch of light
is shone
as glorious as the sun
Then I slip on my own face
What a fine day
I’m not ashamed to say it
It’s a perfect occasion to say it
I can’t believe it’s happening
so abruptly,
intruding a long,
fatigued day
I’m just rolling along
Beside the ocean
Behind the mountains
Lift up my lowly spirits
Laughing maniacally
like a freaky clown
This fine day…
Soon withers away
with murky clouds
turning my smile
into a frown
singing tenderly
a most calming rhythm
sending dismay
in my urbanized bones
Hiking…climbing
on vast mountains
caught in the tone
of my withering voice
and it’s about time I rejoice
better than earning a fortune
the way I sing that tune
will flip the day like a dime
revolving the night to day
echoing the same tune
like a lullaby
The time is coming soon
What a fine day
I’m not ashamed to say it
It’s a perfect occasion to say it
I can’t believe it’s happening,
but I must roam
home and sparkle
my duty
and fulfill
My fine day
no more dismay
Elspeth returned home early from the party.
Kept her fancy earrings and her slip on.
They made her feel jazzy
Sat on the floor to get cool
Ran her fingers up the frosted glass of the window
Began to write
Was not satisfied, so turned her words into an airplane.
Wondered why she is always the first one home
Is it because she is hard to please?
Or because she knows she would rather be alone
Than spend time with a date who is banal and boring?
Maybe a little bit of both
Her fingers drummed on the cold glass
She felt herself humming. her spirits lifted a bit
Proud she was not willing to waste time with Mr. Wrong