Long Take a breather Poems
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National Panic Wednesday March 9th, 2022 actually... every day
Founded by Tom and Ruth Roy
solely to acknowledge hardship
of A. R. Harris
and her husband M.S. Harris,
who cope poorly
(even courtesy medication)
with anxiety attacks, especially when
violated, probed, interrogated courtesy
Highland Manor inquisition,
which traumatizing event happened
on aforementioned date
included with poem title.
J. G. and P. F.
constitute management team
under jurisdiction of Quoss
(pronounced chhath tt) and Grade,
who espouse principle laissez faire
but whose exhibited heavy handedness
pertaining to the married couple
named in the third line of this poem.
Either one or the other gals
who attend these premises
here at the Schwenksville location
(I won't mention
the state as penile solitude)
alluded to a peculiarly nasty odor
emanating from unit B44,
our man/woman cave.
We received a twenty four hour deadline
to get into shipshape the disarray
messiness even Pigpen
would find abominable,
yet upon receiving both
oral and written admonition,
me and the missus
buckled down and kickstarted
frenzied whirlwind one bedroom
apartment cleaning spree
zoned out like zombies of Sugar Hill
when the clock struck bewitching hour,
more specifically that alluded time
synonymous with midnight.
No matter we felt dead tired
whereat neither option
to acquire additional time,
nor desist existed,
and yet nearly impossible mission
to continue, but appealing
to temptation of sandman
out of the question.
Deep sleep for the weary
appeared oh so heavenly,
on par with plate
of powder milk biscuits,
our mandate (analogous to pilgrims
adults and children -
forced to fight in crusades)
forbid cessation, thus to plod
and plow onward
despite overwhelming urge to plotz,
(not the slang definition)
found yours truly
blissfully in dreamland
when me noggin hit the pillow,
Not for a minute
could yours truly
sit down and take a breather,
despite severe lower
(rightside) back pain.
Said dull throbbing ache
diagnosed as tight muscles
by Doctor (physical therapist)
John R. Mishock,
he would not countenance
(approve, comply, honor...)
I popped one Ibuprofen.
Wordsmith's Veneration...
Aye willy nilly understate (trying 2)
tantalize, hypnotize, galvanize...
with "FAKE" trumpeting
spellbinding, rambling, quivering...
intoxicating, hallucinating, gyrating,
stop to take a breather...
English Language vocabulary, a
fascination, intoxication, provocation...
upon me ocular, neurological, mental...
faculties of this nattering nabob
from outer limits of twilight zone
i.e. literary krazy Jewish jabberwocky
issuing haphazard global toll till
fallout exacting deserved damn
cratering nascent (inchoate) career
digitally/electronically bi:
ne'er re: carpet bombing
away upon modus operandi, sans
sesquipedalian shrapnel strafes wrought
realization literary scaffolding
complex edifice thought
out in mind of yours truly,
not popularly sought
opportunity to experience
rush of excitement,
asper choice winner equals naught
inexorable effort to cobble innovative
linkedin words disappointment fraught
submissions witness polite declinations
attesting, lamenting, regarding poetic
expansive glommed language, unlikely
success tubby brought
adulation, commendation, enunciation...
fades into afterthought.
Ablest adept adroit aficionado
applauded aspiring authors accorded
absolute badge because
brevity brews brilliant burnished
bravado bubbling budding bulwark
captivatingly collates, communicates,
constitutes conveys avast literary
Grand Canyon chiseled, sans scribe's
Colorado devoid, asper driven desperado
contrariwise, through prevalent
persistent pinterest proclivity,
plus plethora pronounced propensity
resoundingly regaling readers
re: raffish ridiculous rumination
renders endeavor incommunicado
diligent doggedness ironically -
dampens dueling dynamic dud
dutifully dramatically diminishing
divine dream deemed darling
distinguished doodling I sip
prose poe hit tick drafter
equally or exceeding
prospects envisioning El Dorado,
thus this Neanderthal sites his lumbering
lugubrious trademark, an
immediate attribute sensing
missive heading directly
to Davy Jones locker
dead reckoning deep virtual
waters of cyber sea!
Greetings to all the precious friends in this class...
All of us, understandly, are equally stressed....
I thought I can, prepare a prose to lighten spirits and provide company....
Knowing well and understand that stress and misery finds company...
Exam stress are terribly bad and flag down your spirits...
So for all of us who are young and green behind the ears...
Please welcome my unsolicited words of wisdom into your ears...
Our exams is merely a hurdle just as in the countless exams before...
Only difference is that it sounds so final that you feel you have to score...
I understand things are tough, stress is high and failure is in the mind...
But be of stout hearts, people, it is not the end of life...
Persevere in your studies, put in the best you can when you sit in the final time...
Our success in your life ahead is not measured how fast you get ahead....
But how willing are you to get up, try and try again...
You only lose a race if and when you give up, not if you try again...
But we need to be smart and to make it fine in the long journey of life...
Here then is a blessed sage saying from some wise old guy we do not know...
If Life deals you a rotten deck of cards even as you strive...
Add a little magic into your life and you'll thrive...
If you do not get what you like, then it is best you better like what you get...
Sometimes in the long journey of Life, you'll need to shift some goal posts..
So that you'll be in the front and command the area between the posts...
So we as the young people out to mount the last exam hurdles..
My best and sincere wishes for your exams, I pray none will stumble...
But if we do, step back, take a breather and try another whack...
Success comes to those who fall, get up and take a mightier whack...
Motivation gurus extol unceasingly, Never give up nor be caught in a rut..
Cheers to you all, and of course, best of luck in the exam hall!
Flowers climb the branches
exhibit their full blossom
flowers visit drawing rooms
They visit temples
and then they vanish.
defying fixed shapes
rivers hasten to no destination.
carrying countless goals
roads get lost in a maze.
Unceasingly
I stand
holding the selfsame earth.
Many couples came under my shade
and rose to ecstatic heights
of imagination,
tired porters
put down their baskets
by my side
and slept out dreams
like lives of longings.
children who hopped branches,
left as they grew
carrying mementos
to remind childhood.
Wild winds’ whirling clusters
whispered a while
perching on my leaves
and raced towards horizons
chasing sky,
chicks hatched on my branches
grew wings and flew out
carrying tiny lives,
travelers who arrived
passed out from exhaustion
but they came round under my shade
and carried themselves away.
Many a time
slogging me through the day
the sun sought to chase me away
from my standing position,
rain battered me into water
threatening to wash me down,
storm nearly blew me by force
by melting me into air
somewhere like itself.
Rays carrying rainbows
could not stay with me
sounds of Naumati band and
monotonous conch-shell drones
rose in sky by turns
and faded somewhere.
Traveler living in a distance
four days from here
before leaving home
thinks of relaxing under my shade
and catching up with his journey,
birds herald the spring
resolved to hatch on my branches,
roads part to meet here
in case they got lost,
dusts and shriveled leaves
take a breather behind my leaves
escaping chasing hurricane.
soil a muddy flow hit by rain
turns to its essence holding my roots.
lightning dancing with winking eyes
continued to tempt
thunderbolts played threat games
clouds acted as though
they were splashing water
to wake me up.
Never did I feel like
leaving this place
and walk.
---
Translated from Nepali by Prof. Abhi Subedi
Voices in my head are babbling everything vicious.
I can't take it anymore, Life has been a tyrant to us for so many years.
Time to let loose and not let the super reign over us with his fears.
Yay, daddy! I wanna go to the park! I've never been there before!
Not a problem, my dear, we shall go to the park...
Huffing and puffing, Lil Sally hears her very first victim.
Who be the unlucky fella, we're gonna call him Tim.
Sadly, he ain't got a clue what's coming at him.
I plunged Lil Sally right through the side of his sternum.
Daddy, daddy!
Hearing his screams makes my atoms jump like rabbits!
Looking at the gushing blood makes my mind go rabid!
Feeling his blood splatter makes my heartbeat rapid!
Smelling the fragrance of his blood makes me wanna taste it!
Tasting his adolescent blood makes my stomach lust for more of it!
My sweet little boy, don't resist your beautiful death, embrace it!
Your mummy and daddy would've loved to see how magnificent it is!
One stab, two stabs, three stabs, blast it, I'm just gonna slice and dice you in half!
Look at my fine cutting, just like my daddy, a transcending psychopath!
Oh sharp little baby, won’t you take a breather for a minute?
No, daddy, I want to savor every delicious droplet!
Alright baby, enough talking, how bout I grab you that bloodthirsty shiny goblet?
Notes
This verse (adapted from one of my WIP rap) is made as an outlet for me to vent my frustration so I'm sorry if it in anyway disgusts, offends or even scares you. But if you're interested, the poem is about a personified machete named Lil Sally and the wielder, or "Daddy", who is a psychopath that could no longer deal with life's problems and also considers Lil Sally to be his life companion, and their experience with their first cold-blooded murder of a young boy.
The pain the curse called cancer or mildew let us pray a prayer for you
Now spirits behind this curse we petition the root every root to meet the truth.
Cauldron of witchcraft cooking the flesh of others we dismiss the powers that be and replace the plant that is planted by the sea tree of life upon every flesh to be healed if Jesus Christ our friend is real dismantle every hand of witchcraft every threat to life for we shall not die but live we will see this request happen by the power of the beaten stripes of our precious Lord a command is made and by his grace Lord give us this day our daily bread your words will never pass away heaven and earth may not stand. Still, we stand on this rock the name that is above all names and all things come forth and present yourself in this room now every spirit behind this cancer comes out every root every power of cancer leave as we place our spiritual hands on the pain and take a breather spirits dismantle the anchor's vehicles malignant tumors all demons involved in this sickness we rebuke you before the judge of all judges in the book of commands we command you to be plucked out of the earth and be planted in the sea you must obey nill and void yourself now to every evil growth dry and die in the name of our beloved Jesus Christ any and all satanic instructions to the body be dismantled this nanosecond all the poisons you gave and fed a spirit of death is charged in the presence of our all-seeing Great trinity God give it up evil spirit through the mouth or through the nose just a sneeze or through the tears of another Holy Ghost fire hotter than hot burn away every cancer cell we claim this already done our decree our petition before the Kingdoms table is granted! Amen and Amen!
Today is Pancake Day and there’s to be a pancake race
folk are on the starting line with a smile upon their face
Ted is ready with his frying pan, he is a fat old josser
but when it comes to pancakes, Ted’s an expert tosser.
The gun goes BANG and off they go, Ted’s busy tossing away
busty Maureen's in the lead, if she wins there’ll be hell to pay!
Ted’s won the race the last five years, he tosses night and day
He’s had the trophy on his shelf and hopes that’s where it’ll stay
Maureen stumbles, her pancake drops and she begins to cry
Ted sneakily stamps on her pancake; he’s such a crafty guy
The finishing line is in sight, there’s just fifty yards to go
Ted frantically tosses his pancake, his wrist is fast not slow
Bill makes a sterling effort and comes at Ted from behind
tossing their pans in unison; Bill's got winning on his in mind
Ted lunges for the white tape, but the race is declared a draw
Bill suggests a ‘toss off’ as there’s never been a draw before
Both men take a breather and get a fresh pancake to toss
if either drops their pancake then it will be to their loss
They both stand on the finish line and flip and toss like mad
neither of them will concede, whoever loses will be quite sad
A crowd gathers, desperate to know who’ll be crowned the winner
suddenly a seagull swoops grabbing Ted’s pancake for its dinner
He starts to shout, he’s quite irate when its declared Bill's won
Ted takes it all to seriously, Bill thought the toss off was such fun!
In England Shrove Tuesday is also known as pancake day and pancake races are held all over the UK.
Date 02/28/17
Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor Nina Parmenter
Today it’s Pancake Day and there’s to be a pancake race
Entrants are on the starting line with a smile upon their face
Old Ted ‘s ready with his frying pan, he is a fat old josser
but when it comes to pancakes, Ted’s an expert tosser
The gun goes BANG and off they go, Ted’s busy tossing away
busty Bertha's in the lead, if she wins there’ll be hell to pay!
Ted’s won the race the last five years, he tosses night and day
the trophy’s been on his top shelf, he hopes that’s where it’ll stay
Bertha stumbles, her pancake drops and she begins to cry
Ted sneakily stamps on her pancake; he’s such a crafty guy
The finishing line is in sight, there’s about fifty yards to go
Ted frantically tosses his pancake; his wrist goes fast not slow
Bill makes a sterling effort and comes at Ted from behind
they toss their pans in unison; Bill's got winning on his in mind
Ted lunges at the white tape, but the result’s declared a draw
Bill suggests they have a ‘toss off’ - there’s not been a draw before
Both men take a breather, awaiting a fresh pancake to toss
if either of them drops their pancake it will be a great loss
Both men stand on the finish line and flip and toss like mad
neither of them will concede, whoever loses will be quite sad
A crowd gathers, all eager to know who’ll be crowned the winner
suddenly a seagull swoops and grabs Ted’s pancake for its dinner
Ted starts to shout and stamps his feet when it’s announced Bill's won
he takes it all too seriously, but Bill declared the toss off was such fun!
Poem edited - originally posted in 2017
02/16/21
Holy Georgina
Mother of Regina
Pray for me in this sanctified arena
That I may escape your Hurricane Katrina
With your scintillating fingers around my oesophagus
How do I stop your wind and take a breather?
Maybe it was I that summoned the phoenix
From the ashes,
Granted!
I must have conjured your sleeping affection
And swung you to the realm of suffocating emotion,
Granted!
I must have tilled your wanting dry soil
And sailed you to wonderland with my toil,
Granted!
Yet, have I not evinced a crystal clear intention,
Through my dodging and parrying of your ignition,
That I defy your indiscriminate lucre demand
Or must I be blunt and outrageously spit out my reprimand?
In the morn…
You caressed me with a Circe-like embrace
That I might part with reason and pay your price
But I parried and escaped your cage.
In the noon…
You kissed my lips with the hips of the Sirens
That I might lose myself to your voyage as Odysseus
But I parried and escape your cage.
In the dead of the night…
You romanced my sleep as the trespassing succubus
That I might get scavenged by your nocturnal octopus
But I parried and escaped your cage.
Maybe…
My dangling diggy and the twin pendulum
Together with their fastening frenulum
That has rested in passivity for half a decade
Is the ultimate solace you seek in-between your bushy barricade
That you might rear a seed in my frenzied façade
While I reduce myself to a lifetime of regretful escapade.
Holy Georgina.
Mother of Regina
Pray for me in this sanctified arena
That I may escape your Hurricane Katrina.
Bolaji Ramos
copyright 2017
You know what I bought this bed sofa the other day
It was the sort for a lofa,yeah it was blue and grey
But yeah I had to take it back, because it had a rip
And would you believe in the middle had a huge dip
I was simply stunned as there was not a lot in there range
I was hoping they'd give me a refund or some exchange
I mean I was apprehensive about buying in the first place
But that's me as always got to be expensive in taste
The shop assistant got me so tense, that I lost my cool
I was so persistent because it just made no sense at all
But neither did I know what I had done with my receipt
All I wanted then was to take a breather and have a seat
You know I had to flip because the sofa fell on my knee
What a trip I felt like a right gofa carrying that bed settee
I did not want to cause a sence, but then how do you react?
I wanted to scream but eventually I did get my money back
A poem idea inspierd by dawn and tony(2001)
Written july/august( 2002) about a time when moved in to belgrade quare
It was carrying it back to the shop me and brotherinlaw tony
just playing around with words trying different subject matter
Adding a bit of humer similer to love thy neigbour
Travelling a poem for coventry and parasights