The limericks that herein you meet
Were tested for pressure and heat.
Confirmed for all nozzles,
And yet, if one wozzles,
Return, if you kept the receipt.
First, you see the tip
Next, the nozzle of the lead
Then, tube of an ink.
Down by the pond,
you know, the one behind the bare hedgerow,
a pond dug out as a feature,
for condominiums to surround,
as if they just had to have,
a basic single nozzle fountain,
and an ornamental plastic swan
just to off-set the isolation
and disassociation
that comes with
the last urban hold-out
you will ever own or know.
OBSCURE LIFE CHARACTERS
Hero
Your terror is palid..
fear is your greatest gesture!
Soldier
your loneliness
is greater than death...
smaller than an enigma,
a data..!
COMMANDED
The bigger the well
from the horror,
more exposed to
subordinate...
THIEF
eternal processor
of other people's gestures..
overeacting prophylaxis
poorly provided,
usurper of
compromising crumbs,,,
NOZZLE
verbose word
among deaf...
brilliant gesticulator
among blinds...!
First, the lead,
Next, the nozzle,
Then, the tube of an ink.
How I miss Spring with showers supreme
rainy weather kept everything green
But now it's June in the summer heat
have to water or it's your garden's defeat
An early heatwave it is blazing hot
everything gets scorched especially in a pot
so watering each morning never stops
thirsty plants need watering a lot
With a garden hose and nozzle galore
I water and spray and water some more
Over a hundred the temperature rise
how much of the poor garden survive
I sat in my chair and aim the nozzle clear
watering watering everywhere
The shower setting when I am near
the jet, full, center for way over there
A soaker used if I need a break
the cone is playful the angle great
Mist for my face to keep cool
flat for spraying as the leaves drool
Use jet setting to spray away
birdbath's dirty water from birdies play
then fill it high to the top
holding spray down when full stop
I like to water it's almost like play
with my nozzle so many ways to spray
The garden remains green and the birdies sing
pretty flowers, fruits and veggies it brings.
~ Reveille ~
Put a little sugar in my shower nozzle
Pour hot coffee on my towel
If I ever finally wake up
Will I ever howl ...
With my socks completely inside out
and my shirt half-buttoned wrong
Comes crashing the percussion of
the morning's first loud gong ...
that summons me to breakfast
cold tuna, day-old cheese
I wash it down with Listerine
How can I go wrong ...
And now it's time for morning prayers
which I mumble in Swahili
Then back I go right up the stairs
Another round of sleep ~ ideally
Flight by Terence Cummings-Smith,
I ride the path ballistic,
in a screaming, scorching arc.
From perigee in flaming hell
to apogee far beyond Arcturus.
Neutrons and tachyons spray,
from magnetic nozzles.
Through burning twisting vortex,
of syncopated space and time.
Reality compresses into pinpoint ultraviolet before,
Mote infrared behind.
My very thoughts lingering,
most far behind.
Time's march freezes,
rolls retrograde.
Nuclei dance, atomically chattering,
Quarks trance.
And I'm there.
Whatever turns your crank
Whatever tickles your pickle
Whatever dunks your donut
Whatever waxes your dolphin
Whatever buffs your buddha
Whatever pops your cork
Whatever pets your monkey
Whatever frosts your cookies
Whatever spills your pills
Whatever trips your trigger
Whatever humps your camel
Whatever melts your chocolate
Whatever peels your onion
Whatever chafes your carrot
Whatever flops your mop
Whatever rocks your socks
Whatever teeters your totter
Whatever milks your goat
Whatever pings your pong
Whatever peels your banana
Whatever blows your nozzle
Whatever tips your canoe
Whatever flicks your switch
Whatever zips your zipper
Whatever blows your stack
Whatever... whatever... whatever!
Something I’m sure is wrong with Tom,
His laughter crushing like burst bomb:
Men having to bear Cruel Chapter
And wounds keep licking long after…
Tom does the fullest delight find
In gushing blood that might one blind,
Clinching absurd satisfaction
From mischief by Hard-Skinned Faction.
I had this guess from Tom’s answer,
With words suddenly a dancer:
When shredded are combatants’ clothes,
“If the Torn Things Tom like or loathes?”
A case of The Wrong Obsession
Forward pushing like A Procession…
Tom I hate like A Recession:
A Fruitless Plenary Session…
Really, it had been a puzzle
Why Tom excuses The Nozzle.
Intend to kill yourself from
inside...?
cultivate
ignorance
allow time to
arrogance ...
Wanna be
adult
nozzle
and demented ...?
put silent
the child
who lives in you
... abort it ...!
The chaotic sounds of
a conflicted emerging thought
pushed and pulled
Impending anguish is wrought
Words jigsaw a
jagged puzzle
Likened a bursting hose with
A busted nozzle
Firing out in a rushed frenzy
No time for sorting beginning from ending
Hoping to re-ingest
as it spews out a flurried mess
Too late as it flows past cheeks
Knowing instantly the havoc it reeks ...
Some men keep real cool at gunpoint
Having been swimming in the company of the military,
The nozzles of guns surveying in moments solitary:
Witnesses to soldiers dipping their fingers in wallets
For the purchase of that spitting out the bullets.
Some men keep grinning at gunpoint,
Because at them pistols have been pointed many times
And no ugly story followed the smiles;
It shall always be a nice evening story by firesides.
Some men choose to be absentminded at gunpoint,
When sure they are that the thing will happen
And already glimpse the bullet their brains open:
One’s best bet to start visualizing the after- life
forgetting everything including one’s wife.
Man can be cynical at gunpoint,
When fixated his mind is upon a notion
Whose abandonment would cost him a demotion
The watchword of unwavering Arabs
Between the Healthy and the On-Tabs .
But should any man be unmanned at gunpoint
Following a menacing loosening of the thing’s safety catch
Behind a door complete with a latch
A hang man’s look on the faces of the Gang
Thinking of nothing else but the loud bang.
A paltry morning, bare of leaf,
grey as a goose.
Hours puddle
between the shallow bones
of a decaying season.
Just enough gas to get me there
The nozzle gulps
as if it were drinking
not pumping.
I ponder on the fact
that all gas stations in Ohio
are built inside a wind-tunnel.
The boxed donuts
are an impulsive afterthought.
I scold myself…
am I that that grey
that I must eat grey food?
Nevertheless, I take it home
as if it were newly dead,
and not manufactured, molded
from goo and dust.
On the way, I pass the newly dead,
two white headstones
in the grave yards of the darkening.
Obesity and corvid
are killing off weak.
Perhaps I will dunk the donuts
in deep black coffee,
pump a few bites into me
and not gulp,
but I know that as usual
I will gulp.
MP News in Hindi :- LPG Gas Tanker Reversed… Sealed Area for Two Kilometers !!
Lpg gas tanker reflex-
sea. LPG gas tanker overturned last night on Deori road in Sagar district of Madhya Pradesh… It is being told that the tanker crashed due to fog in bad weather. The nozzle opened as the tanker overturned, causing gas to leak. As soon as the incident was known, the administration immediately sealed the Aria….
Team from Bina Refinery-
As soon as the incident was received, the administration has sealed the Aria for two kilometers from the tanker. At the same time the rescue team from Bina Refinery has started operation. People said that due to dew and fog, gas has spread in the field. The tanker is being monitored remotely. No one is being allowed to go near him. The two-kilometer area has been sealed. In the vicinity, profits are being made for not burning matches.
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