We sleep on each other,
lick on each other,
run around and nip on each other,
we are wholly 'each other,'
personalities
hid
in the ruff and fur around our necks
and the snaggle of our teeth.
We wag in unison
heart-timers synchronized.
When out in the big smell
we seek every scent
that sprout's
from the muddy baths and the great
wafting sky-waves that call to our blood
to come join,
come lope and snuffle.
The trails of other's drives us crazy,
we roll in bundles of ecstasy,
squat, squirt and snap at the thick odiferous airs
then inhale the news from every rump
we greet.
Under our skittering paws
leaf and grass, spatter and scatter
as we charge into each other.
What are these leaves of grass?
Each one could be a page
in poem of sniff and scratch.
The wind threads through our snouts
and we shake our heads
until our brains rattle in wonder.
Old Walt Whitman forgets to mention us,
but deep within his far pacing musings
we are there like an itch.
When he pauses his pen to nap and dream
our breathy huff huffiness
tickles his toes.
All good deeds stem from a belief
That we can effect change and bring relief
To people in need or those in grief
Hope gives us motive, to be brief
Eternal springs hope in the human breast
To this the lives of great folks best attest
No hope and life’s heart will forthwith arrest
Hope sends you high atop life’s crest
None but the hopeful can weather life
In troubled times and in strife
When despair pours in thick and rife
Cut through it fast with hope’s knife
In darkness find a ray of hope
To help you with problems cope
Wash off doldrums with the soap of hope
Get up afresh and up your lope
The jack-a-lope, he is a dope.
He eats bar soap, he eats bar soap
Jack-a-lope did not know what bar soup was.
But he was angry now, because it tastes as bad as fuzz.
you tore that letter
in which we told the situation
never loved anyone except you
We used to torture all the people before you.
You didn't even feel that person
Whose feelings we had narrated
Well leave it, where will you understand those stories
what we hid all along
Tell me why you tore that letter
in which we told the situation
For hygiene no hope,
No recourse to soap,
Cleanliness for rope
Germs no longer grope;
Easy patrols: lope
To those who hate soap
Do you ever cope?
All Catholics Nope!”
For I could tell Pope.
Soap is Next father
Of laundry’s lather
Dwarfed only by surf
But to Dirt still rough
Use it no odour
You’ll smell the other.
spires stretch heavenward in a twilight sky
crimson hues and nighttime blues do battle
as people lope lazily over a dusky bridge
like cattle with cameras;
snapping the domed limestone giant
below, boatmen skim across a shimmering mirror
reflecting fragmented moments
cast down from the world above
floating like flotsam; lifeblood
coursing through the city’s stone heart
amid those masses, we watched
the shadows grow steadily longer
and balls of soft lamplight glow gently brighter
until, suspended in the darkening air
they floated like no post was there
then, just like that -
the city shrugged off day’s last light
wrapping herself in the mysteries of night
where amorous wishes and twisting seine scenes
led to candlelit kisses and solitaire dreams
distant wolves sniff at the winds,
sense what you do not.
your death hums in the air!
pings run through your heart
to raise a berm of hair!
Baskerville hounds now shift
from lope to lunge.
their thirst for blood has come!
rapacious tongues make clear
your death is in their mouths!
What would happen if you embraced the possibility that the God of the Bible really did create the world and really does care for you?
Allow me to be a child again
even if only in my mind
for only in your love's contain
did that first Christmas truly find
a child afresh to You consigned
Inside my heart I'll place each hope
like a fresh poinsettia in the snow
in that wintergarden of love's lope
each bauble will be hung with glow
right above Your sweet Halo
May I be privy to your birth
like Mary was that blessed day
Twas' only You she could unearth
inside that lowly stable's ray
You really saved the day
My Lord, My Lord, I am in awe
each time my heart re-calibrates
You are the light of Christmas law
the one that clears the world of hate
and opens wide the Trojan gates.
December 5, 2022
Sponsor Emile Pinet
Contest Name A Christmas Special |
I’d not thought of it before
But could swear “Two” not “Four”
Or aren’t we His planned image,
Later with Sinners’ Damage?
Please tell others: “Dazzling Bright!”
Shone that way Met Moses’ sight!
A Pair for The Furthest Probe,
No help from Man’s Screening Robe;
All corners see of The Globe,
Your Stolen Wealth’s Built Adobe…
A Breast for Cancerous Lobe,
Waiting–in–Blood–Stream Microbe,
Necks that shall wear a rope,
Ears that could never a lope;
Men who shall soon cease to cope,
Though not blind but begun to grope
For long courting. Killer Dope…
Lips with ‘Yep’ that ring as ‘Nope’…
See! I have described God’s Eyes:
They are both Eyes and The Wise!”
What to say......time itself knows
it's the inner soul which bows
for the water in rivers when it glows
where it runs with a pace not so slow.
Then comes the mist n the fog
which falls on another side of log
in it's other form it touches the surface with a slog
as if runs a person in his clogs
Bringing a ray of great hope
for the coming time's hurdles to cope
resembling a horse's lope
it's a true form of rope
The grace of a raindrop when it falls
it's like a feeling as if our heaven calls
all of them r like miniature balls
creating huge n live walls
It's nature makes me thrilled
taking the vessel's shape in which it is filled
whether it is warm or is chilled
makes me think how can it be so skilled
makes me think how can it be so skilled
Pecos Bill rode herd in the vast forlorn.
His quiet Paint gobbled buttered popcorn.
A tornado, in a fit,
Came for a whirlwind visit.
“Paint, meet Curley. His back I will adorn.”
Bill grabbed his rope and threw a loop with hope
And saddled the whirlwind so Paint could lope,
Leisurely grazing along
While Bill sang a peaceful song
Though the twister used top spin, Bill could cope.
Whirly raced north swift as antelope might.
Picking up barns, tossing them left and right,
Heaving a freight train five miles.
Bill hung on with joyful smiles,
“Almost beats chasing roadrunners at night.”
Bill rode that twister into a broke nag,
That lay city curbside limp as a rag,
A sadder, but wiser storm.
Where his horse Paint, true to form,
Whinnied by the nag, wanting to play tag.
A jolly sheriff saw Bill ride in view,
He chose at least three tickets to issue:
Parking in a tow away;
No emissions valve that day;
Driving a twister with no license too.
Tale Tales 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jeff Kyser
Date Written: 3/14/2022
Used Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
Day Dreaming Cowboy
Wish I was a cowboy
Just for you tonight
We’d Waltz and two step
Across this bar room floor
We’d put quarters in the juke box
Till they spilled upon the floor
We’d sing along with
Hank and Willy
Till they couldn’t take it anymore
I’d smother you in
Belt buckles
From my latest rodeo
I’d be the cowboy
Who rode that bull
Ten seconds more
I’d put you on a stallion
Let you lope across the
Wind swept prairies of my mind
I’d trade my Stetson
For your Levi’s
And lacy underwear
I’d place your boots
Beneath my bed
Till the little ones came
And kissed us both goodnight
I wish I was that cowboy
Just for you tonight
Lon 4/19/2021
Let the time pass by
In a sigh
Let the candle gleam
In a dream
Let the heart go dance
In a trance
Let words embellish
In a wish
Let the soul sing first
In a thirst
Let the brown feet lope
In a hope
Let the bold eyes laze
In a gaze
Let the mind face death
In a breath
08.21.2020
(5.3 syllables)
What if we had everything that we wanted
what would become of hope
would it spend its days
hiding in the shade
never finding any use to trade
Hope lies here
none to eat cold sausage rolls
or cry as final bell tolls
as all hope is lost
life has no longer cause
What if we had everything that we wanted
what would become of hope
would it spend its days
hiding in the shade
never finding any use to trade
Hope lies here
none to eat cold sausage rolls
or cry as final bell tolls
as all hope is lost
life has no longer cause
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