The Spring sings,
her voice sweet and true.
Her spirit,
she gave away...
to ride the Earth through her voice,
through the clouds of cotton drifting through the sky,
through invisible soft gales that shake the little blossoms of flowers awake.
Her spirit kisses, the open petals so soft...
the tender leaves that search her light...
and she brings life to the rippling brook.
Oh, hear her song,
which the shaking trees shall bring.
Sing along with her,
to feel her warm kiss on your cheek.
*My fellow friends from PS wrote about spring a long time ago, but I didn't feel like it because 1. There are no seasons in Sri Lanka, 2. It had been super hot for about a month. Finally, last night there was rain and now everything is quite normal.
Besides, I haven't been around for a long time, quite because I had my term end exams at school. the holidays started about a week ago, which I just spent mooching around.
Categories:
mooching, nature, seasons, spring,
Form: Free verse
The Principle of Seed Sowing
By: Miracle Man
1-24-2019
Many endeavor to exist,
By mooching fruits from others.
Smugly sharing yours,
When they have their druthers.
But there's a lesson in life,
They don't seem to grasp.
Feeling entitled is an attitude,
From which they must unclasp.
An attitude of entitlement,
Means they've taken a knee.
But “You can't reap the fruit,
Without first planting the tree.”
Categories:
mooching, how i feel, society,
Form: Lyric
Every year it's the same troop
Who seem to show up in a group
Relations that you never see
But, still they are your family
Gifts are opened, clear the floor
Then you hear them at the door
Relations that you never see
Except to eat your food for free
They never write, they never phone
All they do is sit and moan
Relations that you never see
They don't look like either you or me
Every year it is the same
They burst on in, don't know your name
Relations that you never see
Thieving hospitality
We don't know where these people live
They always take, they never give
Relations that you never see
That's how it will always be
Merry Christmas, how's the folks
Drink your drink, and smoke your smokes
Relations that you never see
Fulfill their Christmas dream for free.
Categories:
mooching, christmas, family, funny,
Form: Rhyme
Guitar case Buddha
Out back is a room with a tin roof
& there somewhere among
The old paint cans
& broken furniture
Is a guitar case
& in the flap where you
Stash picks & spare strings
Is a small wooden Buddha
At least I think he´s still there
20 yrs ago mooching around
Chinatown San Francisco
I bought him for a buck
From a street stall
Put him inside my jacket
& went for lunch
Upstairs in a place
With flying duck wallpaper
& dirty windows
We ate won ton soup
Waited until the rain eased off
& part of me is sad
I will never see San Francisco
Again & eat won ton soup
In Chinatown
& part of me thinks
I might go free that
Little Buddha
& put him up on the
Mantelpiece
& toast him with my first
Glass of evening wine
Salut my friend
Your exile is over
Categories:
mooching, drink,
Form: Free verse
We stage a dazing drama
Impetuously unfolding with scenes
Spelled by our minds and moods
Where all things happen
With the scripts discarded
We watch keenly a curious comedy
Everyone scheming for greased palms
Gone...when the rules were without exceptions
When shady kingpins bow to Justicia
And their sizzling sleaze unraveled
Now justicia sick of sightlessness
And has sold herself for Greek gifts
For the nuts of political juggernauts
We see strange scenes
Consciences sold out for their bellies
Easily welshing on their ideals
Mooching to munch around god-fathers
Who at pleasure push them around like pointless pawns
And who are they not to play their proprietors' tunes
Or dance to their rhythm?
We stage a tangled tale
A show of shame
Mindlessly becoming butts of jokes
Before our curious children
And validating ourselves with laughable excuses
Categories:
mooching, character, corruption, satire,
Form: Free verse
Drunken Moon Haiku
smokeless tobacco
seeking light from another
mooching off the sun
loitering in dusk’s
drunken aura of darkness
last call at sunrise
a lone wolf’s farewell
song of life’s broken spirit
hobos serenade
round moon – square window
cold framing whiskey’s wisdom
red cheeked aftermath
John G. Lawless
7/3/2015
written for prompt of DRUNKEN MOON HAIKU
Categories:
mooching, moon,
Form: Haiku
shelter has been found
to its warmth i am bound
i enjoy not hearing a sound
i am now the contented one, and not the mooching hound
my life is now filled with glee
my conscience can finally be free
i long for sand, breeze, and sea
now that i am the wiser, myself i can comfortably be
Categories:
mooching, blessing, growth,
Form: Rhyme
BLACK BEAUTY
One sunny afternoon
Mooching about the streets to kill time,
Lo and behold! What did I see?
A damsel
A very pretty damsel walking the streets alone.
She had dark oily skin which glittered conspicuously
Under the espy of the hot sun
Her skin was without blemish and
Was as smooth as the sands of the Sahara.
She was nattily dressed in a blue-black gown
And a necklace of pearls was dangling from her neck.
She walked daintily about like a springbok
And had long graceful legs
And very piercing eyes.
By Jove!
This pretty damsel was the cynosure of all eyes
Even a sightless man would have been thrilled by her beauty
A monk would have forgotten his monastic vows
And fall for her charm on sighting her
For her beauty was beyond words.
I was held spell-bound by her beauty
She put me in a state of perpetual delirium
And immediately I wished she was mine
But then she was somebody elses'.
Categories:
mooching, imagination, passion,
Form: Free verse
Somewhere in Maida Vale
A penthouse trendy flat
Somehow I’ve wound up here
Getting daggers from the cat
My wraps still in my pocket
I dare not take it out
I’ll just sit here all paranoid
And kill myself with snout
Actors, models, Djs
They’re all mooching around
Kissing on both cheeks
A cab home’s twenty pound
Just can’t seem to blend in
The conversation’s weird
White people with dreadlocks
And silly goatee beards
Once again the gear
Is in the driving seat
It’s took me out all night
I won’t admit defeat
She’s beautiful the dark haired girl
She don’t fit in like me
If only my jaw’d stop rotating
I’d ask her home with me
Better check on my mate Charlie
He’s waiting in the loo
After this I’m going home
Two fat lines, one, two
That’s better, that’s the stuff
Now I’m blending in
I’ve gotta kick that f 'ing cat
No beer left, only gin
Shall I make a phone call
Shall I get more gear
This lot will give me sixty quids
Coke in Maida Vale is dear
The dark haired tart
She’s bang on me
She smiles from ear to ear
Oh she’s coming towards me
D’you know who’s got any gear ?
Categories:
mooching, life, social, visionary, dark,
Form: Verse