May we be blessed in this life each day we’re notching…
to do what we know is right
even…when we think no one is watching
Categories:
notching, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme
When did you start hearing voices,
when did they start making choices
to determine your world
and crack that first bottle
or did the first pipe full smash on the throttle
sending you racing
downhill into the unescapable maze,
driving deeper into the dense purple haze
of paranoia?
I don't see the people you say are watching,
or the man living under the floorboards
and the plan he is notching
to murder you while you sleep,
if the drones "they" keep sending
don't sweep in and reap
your forma mentis for metanalysis,
or psychoscopic phenomenographic cogitation,
or steal your cannabis first,
and I can barely comprehend;
your unreal reality is a fine damned
mess for the rest of us!
Categories:
notching, mental illness,
Form: Rhyme
clearly hard being different
will take a strong flexible spine
despite how inconsiderate
must obey each and every sign
not so easy being odd
physically out of tune
spat on with words from god
vilified inside cartoons
existence well defined
by prigs and blissful ignorance
all must be tight aligned
to others’ selfish interests
don't step out of line
for they are ever watching
hate is not benign
your hang rope could be notching
the masses won't be swayed
left with little choice
traditions must be obeyed
don't dare raise your voice
operate on the down low
hide true feelings deep inside
let very few people know
normal's so hard to abide
clearly hard being different
despite how inconsiderate
physically out of tune
vilified inside cartoons
existence well defined
all must be tight aligned
don't step out of line
hate is not benign
the masses won't be swayed
traditions must be obeyed
hide those true feelings held inside
acting normal’s hard to abide
Categories:
notching, allusion, discrimination, feelings, identity,
Form: Lyric
There was a priceless moment
When he smiled openly, innocent
To the careful way I’d held him to my heart
As he laced a path across my soul
Notching out breaths of hope and joy
Serrating hollows of serenity and faith
Feelings flowing through my crimson veins
In whispers of laughing pleasure
Songs of winds shifted through my hair
Beckoning my thoughts with grace
Painting vibrant flames of wisdom across
My life, where he giggled and grinned
Caressing my spirit with the love
Only a babe in arms could have given
size 6
"Footprints" Old or New for a Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
April 30, 2021
Categories:
notching, baby,
Form: Free verse
Without you there would be no dirty hoes or moldy dishes
I'd hook up with a wild one in less than a New York minute~
Every night I'd go out hungry sharking with the guys
circling around neon boobs until it was closing time~
Fishing and all night poker games would be the norm
sure would beat listening all night to an ogress' snore~
and I wouldn't have to always be the perfect gentleman
I could proudly pick my nose and break the sweetest wind~
and never again would I fall victim to a case of deep blue balls
I'd be notching headboards and knocking pictures off the wall~
but then again nobody else but you has always had my back
so I'll stick it out until my heart leaves no more tracks~
5/29/20
Categories:
notching, absence, adventure, candy,
Form: Couplet
If you've recently watched Jeopardy, Austin's a mind blower
With unbelievable knowledge and a delightful antics ogre
Keeps all of us watching
Big dollars he's notching
But someone will end the reign of this brilliant all knower
Categories:
notching, celebrity,
Form: Limerick
"Gleaming diamonds in sediment seams,
The trickling washes slithering into streams,
Notching clouds serrating luminescent beams,
Hazy mirage of mosaic jigsaw dreams,
The interlocking notches of ones jeans,
Assorted tiles of pixelated screens,
Grinding, grooved cogs of steam machines,
Double-edged relief on drawn up vaccines,
Grasping at far away stars to stay up on a wave,
Gravity, anchoring has mankind shackled as a slave,
The bearing of antimatter flash in the black of a cave,
Fireballs, spiralling in diluted spheres at a rave,
The bipolar compass roots scattered forming a knave,
Burning sensations of liberty that which we crave,
Straying from hard beaten paths that others pave,
Ever lurching, learning with one foot in the grave"
LF
Categories:
notching, adventure, allusion, beauty, blessing,
Form: Limerick
On an early and one misty morn
Our incredible Christ child was born
When the sun soon started to rise,
God's Son was born to our surprise.
In a manager, Jesus was meant to be;
The Holy Savior for both you and me
To save us from each and every sin
We had done often again and again.
Shepherds by night sheep were watching
And into stick they had been notching
Each day when Jesus would be coming soon;
Night before birth might be a full moon.
Such a wonderful morning it had been;
Jesus was here to save women and men;
For one more Christmas can hardly wait
So we one more time can celebrate.
Categories:
notching, religious,
Form: Couplet
What Is “A Man”?
A man is:
when you sculpt a piggy bank of clay giving it the shape of a man,
notching a slot where a rib should be.
A man is:
when you sculpt a piggy bank of clay giving it the shape of a man
to bring to the market to sell.
A man is:
when you sculpt a piggy bank of clay giving it the shape of a man
to turn the heads of children carried in their parent’s arms.
A man is:
when you sculpt a piggy bank of clay giving it the shape of a man
to return home barely wrapped after failing to sell.
A man is:
when you sculpt a piggy bank of clay giving it the shape of a man
to bequeath to your children to break its belly when
coins reach the throat.
A man is:
when you sculpt a piggy bank of clay giving it the shape of a man
without being able to explain how.
Categories:
notching, music, children, giving,
Form: Free verse
One more breath
notching the scarred pole
that I carry
walking down my path,
passing thousands
sitting on the side
sapped of their will,
on I trudge,
sticking clicking
on loose stones.
My soles might be worn
but they support
this harbinger
with an appetite for destruction
as I amble on
leaving glyphs
to mark my passing,
tasting the wisps of energy
rising off the lost ones
lining the road.
My staff,
imbued with ink,
scrolls upon my trail
leaving knowledge
for the lesser to figure out.
Categories:
notching, introspection,
Form: Free verse