The time is now such
All must Dutch up.'
In 2023 speak out free.!
Value freedoms prize
Not humanity's demise
There's scum afloat
On a stagnant moat.'
Skim the surface
And ready the boats '
Travel is zero, nil ...
my great journeys have only been in reading books,
it takes skill !
Travel books great ...
zero expense or costly hooks,
frustrate !
Cost free ...
zero for looks,
see !
Travel is zero, nil ...
zero expense expense or costly hooks,
see !
_____________________
April 15, 2022
Poetry/Minichu/Rhyme/Zero, Nil, Zilch
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1447-973-15
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Lets Minichu on Zero
sponsor, Mohan Chutani, Judged 05/08/2022
Seventh Place
Nil Poi!
Nil poi, shove it under there.
Nil Poi, coz we don’t really care.
Nil poi, we are quite elated.
Nil poi, we are vaccinated.
Nil poi, it’s fixed, and it’s done.
Nil poi, but we’re still number one.
Nil poi, you all used our tongue.
Nil poi, with bad diction, bad song.
Nil poi, again Europe’s in tatters.
Nil poi, we win when it matters.
Nil poi, so what’s all the fuss?
Nil poi, you’re nothing without us!
Nil poi, nil poi, nil poi, nil poi,
Nil poi, nil poi, nil poi, nil poi!!!!!
David Cox 22/05/21
The wise man asks the same question each year, again and again.
But the wise answer, year after year still does not come.
The outcome of the match is ever...
One-nil.
Nil desperandum.
Cada dia de julho
é um treinamento
Existe uma lição em tudo.
Aprenda e torne-se sábio.
Portanto, nil desperandum.
Julho, em frente
I AM BEYOND ME
BLIND AND COWERING
GASPING FOR AIR
EYES FOGGY
MY THROAT
FULL OF GLASS
I REACH OUT
FOR YOU
SHINY AND SHARP
ERASE ME
I SLINK AWAY
INTO THE NIGHT
THE BLEAK DARK
CALLS OUT TO ME
PULSATING WAVES
ENGULF ME
FLOOD MY BODY
WITH THE SHAME.
Plink. Plink.
Drip...
follows drop,
follows drip,
follows drop.
Plink. Plink.
Resolutely, incessantly,
each precious globule
snakes, languidly, along
labyrinthine tunnel.
Plink. Plink.
Seemingly-innocuous fluid
conveys crucial content
and necessary nourishment:
sole source of sustenance.
Plink. Plink.
Life-affirming droplets
are welcomed, eagerly, into
damaged vessel's system.
Plink. Plink.
Naught but air to pass lips,
"NBM" had been decreed.
Plink. Plink.
Temporarily,
but indelibly,
branded.
Plink. Plink.
-----------------------------------
8 October 2017
NBM / Nil by Mouth is a medical instruction to prevent patients from consuming any food or water orally, often replaced by intravenous fluids.
Submitted to Julia Ward's "Your Favourite Free Verse Poem From October 2017 or November 2017" contest.
(2nd Place)
Entered in Butterfly Wings' "Could You, Please" contest.
(6th Place)
Imagination Nil !!!-
Daydreams Still !!!
Inspiration - no long born of, imagination lying in deaths arms.
Creation - no longer lives in, daydreams in decay alarms.
Imagination and daydreams have little force and no charms.
Function for this brain seemed best served at realities door.
Compunction, for inspiration and creation – for me – where little more
than some insignificant attainments resurrected from my memories store.
All is gone, slips into the a void, an abyss of the forgotten,
where all decays, lays there in the dark and goes rotten.
Thank heavens for imagination, daydreams from some,
for inspiration and creation brings forth what’s to come
that can, that will bring the good, or the bad, from
the minds with imagination and daydreams – it’s done.
B. J. “A” 2
July 10th 2005
Expectations ?, - Nil !
Yet, I would still love your heart to beat out a tune !,
on a soft bed of multi coloured rose petals.
I would love to feel your heart beat, midnight till noon,
so softly, sweetly, fragrantly - a bed made of precious metals
to lay upon, to play upon, to make love on, under a full moon.
I would love for your thoughts, your feeling for me to be
a hive, honey combed, filled with sweet nectar from the bee.
I would love that your feelings for me be a positive flowering,
not the negative force, souring the moment, over powering
all the good that could come, that could be the you
I would love to experience, the you I thought I knew
- believed lived beneath that mountain of stone cold
indifference to me, those walls you’ve built, standing so bold
upon the shoulders so straight, so beautiful, so strong.
For you, you are always right and I am always wrong !
That seems to be the guard, essence, the tune of your song.
B. J. “A” 2
December 30th 2008
He wears the world like a loose garment,
nothing can bring him down,
they all think he's a jester
but the jokes not on this clown.
They've condemned and tried to hang him
but they could not bleed him dry,
for he said I have a talent,
a talent you cannot, deny.
You see, your bars are just an illusion,
the eagle in my mind soars south,
the words in my head are too good for you,
note, to the sheriff, nil by mouth.
Much less of what I have is much less of that I need
Much less of what I’ve lost is much less of all my deeds
More than that I’ve lost is less of what I’ll get
More than love in my heart is filled by much of hate
Things once I had are the things that now I need
The plants that are grown are all with those broken seeds
Want we do much but we get so less
Life is like chess make right move or end up in mess
More than of what I get is less than that of what I give
More is the reason there to die and there’s so less to live
More than a start for me is the less the end
More than a broken glass is my life hard to mend
More than a wish in me is less than my will
For my life is always nil to nil
Deep in your heart
Keep the flame of love burning.
Though far apart
For you my soul is yearning.
No need to rue
What stands in the way of desire.
We'll remain true
If we hang on to our fire.
One day we'll be free
To embrace,kiss and caress.
Then right it will be
Our complete love to express.
Nothing eaten, nothing drunk.
Waiting, waiting.
The clock ticks on with hourly chime,
A dull metronome of passing time.
Waiting, waiting.
Food grows cold, drink grows warm.
Waiting, waiting.
Nightfall scuttles heliotrope claws
Across the ceiling, walls and floors.
Waiting, waiting.
Shadows cleave the paling face.
Waiting, waiting.
Expressionless with staring eyes,
Breath reduced to vapid sighs.
Waiting, waiting.
No raven quothing “Nevermore!”
Waiting, waiting.
The chimes toll death again, again,
Prayers to ashes, all in vain.
Waiting, waiting,
waiting…