Long Yellow bellied Poems
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We looked at the world through rose-colored glasses,
sped through the night under blue moons,
parked in cars and gave boys the green light.
Explored gray areas, dreamed of golden boys,
painted the town red and got caught red-handed.
We saw adult freedoms and were green with envy,
we experienced blackouts (I’m talkin’ to you 151 rum),
swam in black water alone and talked to strangers,
told little white lies, yet somehow, we didn’t die young.
I think of college students as dyed-in-the-wool adults.
The grass always looked greener on the adult side,
and we’re tickled pink not to be infantilized any more.
We’ll show the world our true colors
and pass college with flying colors.
Life won't be handed to us on silver platters,
we’ll get white collar jobs.
Of course, as adults, we’ll have to deal with red tape,
and we can’t be yellow-bellied or try to whitewash things.
We’ll stay out of the red or sing the blues.
We’ll stay off the yellow lines, seek golden opportunities,
attend black tie events, obey the golden rule, avoid pink slips,
support our men in blue and look for silver linings.
Adulthood sounds exhausting.
On the positive side, I’m told adults practice safe sex.
Practice means what it’s always meant - right?
Is that why adults go to bed so early?
Besides, as adults, we won’t be kept in the dark anymore,
and we’ll get to chase rainbows!
Let us color
the colors
in their right
shades and hues;
Is white, white?
Or, red, green
and blue, too?
Red is red but
Green is not green--
It’s yellow and blue,
As yellow is
red and green.
Black is black,
It's in black and white
Black as night
White as a ghost,
Not black and blue,
You get the blues
Out of the blue
Once in a blue moon.
Red is blood red,
Paint the town red,
Red in the face
but not off color,
Always in the pink
never in the red.
Show your true colors,
Raise a white flag
if you see red,
Not your green thumb.
Get the green light
Not green with envy,
Chase the rainbow
Be not a black sheep
Or yellow-bellied.
~1/15/2015
~Anacreontic Verse 2 contest by Edward Ebbs
LIFE IS LIKE A MAYPOLE
Outstretch above are blue skies and golden sunshine
as train of threads is softly thug and braid to a pole.
Behold, this sky high pole of bright crayon colors,
they speak slowly about life in quite a number. . .
Sturdy wooden pole standing high and tall
is like a man endowed with wit and strength
The lengthy colored ribbons children install
are the shifting, rolling faces of life's events
Black as night sometimes dawn in life,
one maybe blue but not long, instead
do stand and chase rainbows on green belt bend.
Being a tickled pink to explore, never strife!
See, how the color red blush as it dance in the wind
so must we as we share love along kinship line
we aren't all born with a green finger
yet, each kindness touch, grin lingers!
Shed that yellow-bellied skin
to mingle without any charign.
Our life is given by God in silver plate.
Hence, let our daily goal be a red-letter day!
If we do, earth and sky may wed of rapport
like the ribbons together pulled and blend
by hands of dancing children that mend...
Raising the Maypole aloft with ribbon pour
so is a lived life despite black and blues decor.
As the threads slide smoothly in span of minutes
we, humans, must climb to reach our full limits.
The intertwining colors that fused, all roar
salad differences of man can be sorted, united to be one.
Screaming colors tickle lowly spirits' to fire
daring man to live before his body will retire. . .
Living life to the fullest before each setting sun!
_____________________________________________________________
©O.E. Guillermo
11:23 pm-- February 02, 2015
Sponsor: Seren Roberts
Contest Name: Life is like a Maypole
Placed 1st
An abecedarian Australian animal activist
Bagged bodacious big bucks
Caustically criticizing crocodiles,
Driving darling dragons
Essentially extinct. Eschewing
Fact, fabricating fanciful fiction,
Grifting gloriously,
He haughtily held hostage
Important, instructive information,
Juxtaposed jaundiced, junk
Kangaroo kills,
Leveling large lizard libel,
Manufacturing marsupial misinformation malevolently.
On other ominous occasions,
Preferring pernicious propaganda,
Quickly, querulously, quashed
Real, rational reports, rather,
Substituted several substantially
Tarnished technical travesties,
Undermining unified understanding.
Very vociferously, viciously
Wrote works without warrant,
Xenophobic xenotypic
yarns, yammering yellow-bellied yawps,
Zombie-like, zealously.
Death is not a due destination deserved;
rather, it’s a God privilege that’s reserved.
Yet, you yellow-bellied bigots feel frightfully
free to stalk and murder us—
Prey to be hung, shot, kneed, or by any means
to stop the Black Exodus.
Playing the Greek-like god that you are not, you’ve sought
to “whiteout” all who are black.
But with a Casper-The-Ghost comic-like eerie dumbness, you
can’t fathom what you lack—
That we hued ones of God have had hued eyes on the prize
far too long to be turned back.
As we continue to trek over a way that has been like sojourning
the valley of the shadow of death
And have more often than not been the unjustified victims of that
5th Amendment-like shadow’s fate—
Know that there’s no longer any apathy in us left and that judgment
day is coming to your bigoted racist hate.
Imagine ... our continental divide,
seen by nose lengthers who are not sharp-eyed.
The Yellow-Bellied Marmots, host the most,
from the northernmost down off the west coast.
There are six varieties of marmots
that live in the area, and what parts
them from the other five marmot species
are that they are polygamous? Unease
males, penance ... more than one mother-in-law.
They're gamey, thought by some that use a claw,
and squirrely; their defining term. There's
a cousin whose shadow's in the crosshairs.
Late winter, early spring, Yellow Bellies,
seasons bring ... the nights, Machiavelli's.
Orange ball of fire
slips down sky
Igniting navy blue night
Like a kid sliding down
The sliding board
In slow motion
Stars seem to peek
As if watching me
Casting dreams upon
Silvery steam of their light
Watch them rinse repeat
Wishing upon stars bring peace
Wind seems to hold
Whims hopes goals
Like a kite against clouds
I feel solar energy warm
Yet cool like black breeze
Yesterday’s yellow bellied laugh
Purple psychosomatics of past
Optimistic views of one madd
Despite the pessimism in that
Embracing even chasing rainbows
Could shooting stars be my destiny
Transforming souls of gold
Fading into heaven’s horizon
As a story to be retold rewritten
Reinventing universe of light
So much more than mankind
With fingers crossed seeking to find
Nests of weaver birds
hanging down from the palmyra palm
An example for community living ?
exclaimed my friend a realtor ;
his friend an architect said
it is all awesome my friend.....hm...
absolutely unbelievable, the
' handy' work of such tiny black-beaked
yellow-bellied ploceidae -the weaver birds !
I have no hesitation to call these sparrows
avian architects even human architects,
my clan may ever match in excellence !
and his friend who formed one among us
bird watchers.... a seasoned textile engineer
hath said this unhesitatingly, 'my God
what I am seeing on this palm ,,, these nests
of weaver birds.... can I call it the
'hanging textile work of avian genius!
absolutely beautiful and heavenly.....
I fail to describe any further....I am stunned 'he further said.
As we were thus watching these nests in awe
night's darkness came hanging... soon to be
driven by the rays of cool stunning silvery moonlight
the light focussed on these nests of weavers
transformed them at once into
heavenly nests of silver ....
with a hear unwilling to leave
we bid 'adieu.... to these birds of wonder
treading on the coastal silvery sands
like angels in a wonder land.