The ocean is a wild beast that I approach cautiously.
I submit to its undertow. It makes me laugh expansively.
I dive in, never turn my back, never quite relaxing.
It wants to rush at me, my irises on pins and needles.
A wave becomes a wall, tugs sand from my soles.
Joyful duet of wind and surf, salt and coconut oil.
I’d run from your potent power, when you’re enraged.
But I feel coddled, serene in your sweet rock’n lullaby.
pay attention, don’t be flippant.
hurricane fool’s gold
color of its eye’s smart
furious body
with draconic scales that chew
up a crew, its sails with ship
bodies buried, some scoundrels survive.
allows for great whites
to float under the riff raff
afloat for seconds
humorous gaff of the sea
its tenderized meat
hidden away in God’s shadow, a treasure.
sweet rock’n lull’by
for one who respects elders
Moses’ mother prays
as zephyr-salt, warm blue skies
gently guide love back to shore
Selection day we have no voice,
selection day a lump’s in my throat;
Selection day two court jesters
argue over the final straw;
Selection day we are not ready,
selection day just the beginning;
Selection day we’ll wait in line
wondering and wishing for hope;
Selection day we have no choice,
Any option is just a delusion;
Selection of burgundy or oily blue;
Why can’t anyone live with purple?
Selection nonexistent in a rematch,
lightning isn’t supposed to strike twice;
Selection day mimics a time bomb,
selection day anticipating detonation;
Selection day on pins and needles
waiting on our country’s buzzword;
Awoken but yet forsaken this morning,
Selection day we have no choice.
It rained.
A long dead dog got wet.
I fell head over heels in love again.
I think I died - thought - thunk.
Hot coffee revived
black no sugar.
Walking now on pins and needles
same ol same ol.
Good to be me and not that guy
without a raincoat.
Listening to Shostakovich.
Do I make myself clear?
Going to the bathroom - I mean toilet.
Have to floss.
Exit.
As long as the wheel of fortune
of your heart spins
I'll be on pins and needles
until when I have found myself
dangling in the clear green waters
of your eyes
It is a condition where elements are equal,
It gives you the ability to tell other people
You respect them & do not sweat them
Never walking on pins And needles
It lets you remain calm,
Like the scriptures Psalms
Knowing for certain the world's Your Palm
Its comparing the value of one another
Its a sharing Of how you Treat your lover
Its the reason this season You dont compare
You can leave it & be with the ones that care
You do not dare To point the finger
Its in the air so let it linger
You're not too left, you're not too right
You're not too day, you're not too night
You're nothing too much
& you're nothing too little
Just enough love to never belittle
This is the riddle we all must solve
Learn to remain BALANCED
In return you learn to Evolve
Shaking on pins and needles,
awake can’t sleep , no time to waste;
Breaking away from everything
take a bite, savor the taste;
Running on that ‘feel good’
fun, adventure, it begins with a hunch;
One minute two, a smile starts to creep;
Undone, the buzz devoured in a crunch.
THE WILD GOOSE CHASE*
I accidentally let one loose
did you see that thing vamoose?
It gave me the slip, did you see?
Now that thing is awfully free.
I walk on pins and needles, friend.
Trying to find, I twist and bend.
You ask why I pull up the rug,
why I pull out every plug.
I raise my hands over my head
and flip over each unmade bed.
I flip out, scratch, harrumph, grumble,
dash around corners, stumble.
At night I turn off all the lights,
sit in the corner, battle bites.
I listen for terrible sounds.
My eyes dart round and round and round.
Afraid of where that thing will land —
on the mountain or in the sand.
I feel empty of all this gas.
I miss the sound of golden brass
and the smog that liquifies eyes,
the way your ribbon twists and lies.
The putrefaction of butt —
the stinker where we blame the mutt!
7/11/2018
Messina’s I accidentally let one loose poetry contest
*Wild Goose chase - a wild or absurd search for something
To goose - to squeeze a butt cheek
*spot poetry: Written in 15 minutes or less about any random subject.
Betwixt
Betwined
Beneath the tweed
lay the nasty pin
It pierced my toe without a need
My foot had lost again
Of all the places I should step
I landed on this pain
"Walkin' on pins and needles"
just doesn't mean the same
I merely stepped up to the lamp
To read the daily news
When all at once
The pin, it stuck
Submerged up through my shoe
And yelling out obscenities
I screamed these words in pain
"Either I get shoes with thicker soles
or ne'er read news again"
We're all searching for a purpose
That makes this all seem worth it
A life that is fulfilling
Pray that God is willing
Spending time high and low
Taking life to and fro
On pins and needles in our mending
Hoping to sew a happy ending
Some folk find along the way
It's true in what some people say
There is no higher purpose
Than that of serving others
It takes the focus off one's self
And puts it onto someone else
With the filling of several needs
As on both sides blessings intercede
So give to those in need you find
Having received less from their lot in life
You will find that it is worth it
When you find this is your purpose
My neighbor is an older man so ghastly and thin
with his creepy demeanor and a toothless grin
On pins and needles to the mail box I run
looking side to side uneasy and high strung
With a slap of his screen door on the porch he stood
looking straight at me wearing an ungodly red hood
With a broom in his hand he starts doing a flaky dance
I try not to look but bewitched I stare at him in a trance
Mysteriously I wonder why he's hitting his roof
when I notice an eerie wasp nest and with a flee I scoot.
9/9/15 T Reams copyright
Today I paid the bills and the piper
Now I find my treasure and a friend
I know that the future will be brighter
Today I paid the bills and the piper
I'm on pins and needles I'm so hyper
I feel as though my life's without end
Today I paid the bills and the piper
Now I find a treasure and a friend
Empty heart
Wheres the love?
Empty soul
Could hear a pin drop
Empty life
Filled with lies
Empty hope
Was it ever there?
Empty happiness
Full of fears
Empty home
To busy walking around on pins and needles
The only thing that ever seems to be full is your glass of shame
Fickle
Fickle so fickle this life is at times,
You can't press fast forward nor rewind,
There are so many things to entertain the mind,
You seldom have time to relax or unwind,
Before the ticking clock sounds its chimes,
Fickle just fickle so fickle I say,
Going and coming, Coming and going,
Shifting with the wind are the sands of time,
Ever waxing, then waning, like the moon is it's mind,
Like grains of wasted salt there it lies on the floor,
So spread apart it can shift to any door,
Decisions, decisions, what will it choose,
Will it let me win today? Or today shall I lose?
On pins and needles does my plum bottom sit,
Should I wait for the outcome or in a jiff should I split?
No matter which I choose the fact still remains,
That this life is fickle and can drive you insane,
Can't keep your schedule or good time by it ,
So if your heart or mind has a good notion you may as well try it,
Cause life is fickle as fickle as ever.
Young lady, I see you have been sampling the family recipe again…I refuse to take you out in public until you are completely:
Sober,
Ober!
Oh, is that so?...Very good, then I regret to tell you that our date is therefore:
Over,
Ober!
Okay, okay, calm down but you will NOT be wearing that skin-tight outfit of:
Leather,
Heather!
I hope it doesn’t rain tonight. That would completely ruin our plans…Did you remember to check the:
Weather,
Heather?
Now STOP that, would y…he-he…You naughty g.. Ha-he-he-oh-ha-ha stop t-tickling me with that:
Feather,
Heather!
Wha…Oh you wild TIGRESS you!...C'mon now, whew!... Am I going to have to put you on a:
Tether,
Heather?
Okay, that's enough!…Now I shall be sitting on pins and needles waiting to see:
Whether
Heather
(Approves of these rather foolish footles)
July 1st, 2013
For her 'Make me laugh' contest' (It will probably make her cry though, or she may even thrash me within an inch of my life)
In surgery, it’s anesthesia
That provides the buffer.
The patient is oblivious
And doesn’t have to suffer.
The family, on the other hand,
Must sit around and wait
On pins and needles, wondering
About their loved one’s fate.
It’s easier to be the one
Who’s underneath the knife.
Awareness is suspended
Of your worries and your strife.
But for the friends and relatives,
The hours stretch real slow.
It’s agony to sit outside
And not be in the know.
At last, procedures have to end.
Some news they will impart;
And then we’ll all begin to breathe.
Recovery will start.
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