Oh! How great it tastes: Steamy Riot
But is it delicious like Quiet?
How glorious it appears: Chariot
Still in some wars and conflicts: Idiot…
I had had to talk about Riot:
The scene promising all but quiet,
The maddest jury of a chariot,
As men go for chaos like diet.
Real and fake claims clash with canisters
They flee who had wished to spoil banisters:
Rioters who hang on: Real Monsters
On the spur of the moment, songsters,
Also heroes for loving their words
And towards sad death moving in herds…
The crucial point: Riot not quiet:
While it reigneth all vultures flyeth.
It had been months since I’d seen Alice
and I felt compelled to see her again.
She was a woman who liked surprises,
so on the spur of the moment
I got in my car and drove,
heading west, chasing down the sun.
But the sun won out
and before I knew it
he was smiling
in my rear view mirror.
Tulsa was just coming to life
as I pulled up in front of her house.
I walked down the cobblestone path
past the well manicured lawn.
The roses were in bloom on the trellis.
When I reached the massive door
I banged vigorously on the brass knocker.
A well dressed man opened up
and asked me my business.
"I'd like to see Alice, please," I said.
"Sorry sir, Alice doesn't live here anymore."
I say yes to a banana split with nuts and a cherry
Before breakfast, and not only on a Saturday
I am older. I could die tomorrow.
Or even tonight in my sleep, or in the next hour.
I say yes to driving nine hours to Milwaukee
On the spur of the moment with my granddaughter
Because she had read about a cat living in a store
And she wanted to see it, so now I do too.
I say yes to people who want to eat lunch with me
But not every day, because lunch time is for myself.
It is my poetry writing time. It is my relaxation.
I do it once or twice a month because I could die tomorrow.
the angry creature,
always dominated by emotion
reacts badly to everything that unmasks
his ego....
At that moment mediocrely
on the spur of the moment, holds the weapon
and shoots...
kills the rationality
and loses all reason....!
If danger is encountered unexpectedly
and we are confronted by death,
we must make a quick decision:
either save ourselves or let someone die!
Giving of ourselves is a selfless deed,
come to the aid of somebody before
tragedy strikes and that person dies;
don't think of yourself, save someone else!
If we hear the awful cry of the young
and we ignore it, we are despicable cowards:
let's listen to the helpless words they shout:
prevent the next suicide before it happens!
Giving of ourselves for a humanitarian cause
is worth trying, not being afraid of making
the ultimate sacrifice for another human being
who is fighting the blazes and can't breathe!
Many heroes have gone unrecognized by society,
but God never forgets the ones who gave up their lives
to save another life on the spur of the moment;
they threw themselves in harm's way to achieve that!
Giving of ourselves is the human way to demonstrate
how compassionate we are in those urgent and dire situations;
take in the orphans who have lost their parents in an accident,
comfort the little ones and hug them as if they were your own!
Off beam,along the circles rim then a creative impulse on the spur of the moment drops of poetic essence spontaneous and prolific from the workings of the heart to distil into another’s mind.A painting with words uttered one by one an experience of the wind &rain of ordinary life.This intimate invitation to stroll within & behind the veil, ’neath inspiration’s triumphal arch, there to share and participate in the raw reality of the creative drive of another. A vision enhanced by mutual experience of each. One thing leads to another,translating awareness of new & deeper meaning.Time germinates the empathy orchestrates the chords as together we explore new world’s of the poetic.
Belly Boarding
By Tom
9-3-2019
In brackish water,
I first learned to swim.
It wasn’t by some plan,
But merely on a whim.
Being a San Diego boy,
Surf captured my eye.
On the spur of the moment,
I gave surfing a try.
The girl I was with,
Flashed a worried frown.
How would I get home
If you should drown
Showing a lot of concern for my safety huh.
The night was young, ecosystem calm
Thoughts flooding my mind, I got drowned in them
Pin fall silence, I could hear my blood flow
On the spur of the moment came misdirection
Entered she, soaked in tears
Her eyes inflamed; larynx they were
Tears still cascading down her countenance
She wept profusely
She needed a shoulder to lean on, mine was uncommitted
I snuggled her to at least give her solace
Compassion was requisite
It cost nothing, so I offered her
Our proximity; not far from contact
Changed things drastically
Her warm tears gushed down my chest
Melting my heart, the throbbing irregular
Her light skin so enticing, pleasing to the touch
My hands got the pleasure
Racing all over her like a hasty warthog escaping death
Caged, I couldn’t escape the enticement and so…
Anger
I will use the computer language to control alt delete
I will halt to contain you
I will walk away to give way
I will reflect to refresh
An excellent choice
From a voice of sense
Supporting a cause
In bringing peace
For all to rejoice
To this justice adjudicated by the inner jury of a clear conscious
From what could have been to what might have resulted
From a fast reaction on the spur of the moment
To engage and indulge
Acting on raw emotions and hormones raging viciously like a wronged tiger
Charging for a prey with its ever sharp claws like a dagger
Triggered by anger
Well, better to remain on the floor like a Beggar
Than let a loose tongue twist and eject
Hold still and reject the push to spew the rot
Of misery,regret and torment of never ending questions
What have I done
Why did I do it
Be alert to tame the beast of fists of no conscious but of only pomp
Tap in the knowledge and wisdom of calmness
To avoid foolishness
Above fairness
As for me I will hold still
To feel the elite control alt delete and halt the fight..
We wondered what we could have for tea,
So we opened the freezer just to see.
Ah! Crispy duck we did espy,
Thought we would give it a try.
How to cook it we did not know,
On the back was the way how.
Here we found what we did not seek,
Instructions in languages we did not speak.
So back to the freezer it was dispatched,
Another plan we soon had hatched.
A simple meal made us lick our lips.
A nice hot plate of Egg and Chips!
A silly poem on the spur of the moment.
© Dave Timperley June 16 2015.
Upon reaching forty
and going
over the hill.
None of her dreams
had been fulfilled.
Malaise descended
on her like
fall in September.
Due to monotonous routines
from New Years'
to Decembers.
On the spur of the moment
longevity had it's wish.
She laid burdens down
for a
small amount of bliss.
Some were frantic
wondering where
she had gone.
Twas learned a little
later while far from home.
A necessary step
which preserved
her life.
Thereby gaining
a new perspective
minus stress and strife.
After reattaining some measure
of who she should be.
Through liberation
a soul's return
has needed serenity.
Now is the time
to sit down and rhythm.
Sorry folks!
I guess that's it
No more wit!
This was written just on the spur of the moment and off the top of my head.
"Homeless"
I found a little turtle,
I assign it to my favorite green shoe box
I guess I over spoiled him, with one simple, pretty punk rock
He does not mind, when I hold him in my handbag
His presence makes me feel as if nothing will sound faulty
On the day I discovered he was sick
He scratched my finger twice
I tossed the turtle, back into the woods
The next thing you know,
He sat pretty under his shell, on my front steps
Here, I go again
I took it back inside by morning light
Weeks went by,
I told him I was bored of cleaning up his Poo
On the spur of the moment I had the itch to eat turtle stew
As time got by, so did his box and my castle
Everything between the turtle and I, became into a tussle
My little turtle my buddy, what should I feed you,
I ran out of money, all I had was a six pack of Mountain dew
This homless moment, felt like eternity
It was time, to set my turtle free
My tiny friend, with a hard shell, found many turtle girls
My itty bitty turtle tore them all up in two
Lucky me now I get to eat some real turtle stew. :)
By: ME
Throw yourself out there and yes, just write,
whatever it is your thoughts could be.
From heart to pen, let your words take flight
so that others your true thoughts will see.
The world is your invitation,
it has been and will yet always be.
To write in this, your life’s duration;
those words inside just long to come free.
It matters not, wherever you are
and you find that you reach for your pen,
for the more that you give in to this,
it will happen again and again.
Many will want to read what you write,
you do well to remember that fact.
It’s fulfilling to see your words take flight
as on the spur of the moment you act.
You read in the papers you watch on the news
Coalition soldiers amidst as the killing accrues
In these theatres of war we lose many lives
In these wars of man only death thrives
But every so often there's a turn for the good
A life is saved they couldn't do what they could
The lives of a family murdered by cowards
Shot in cold blood bullets they showered
But from this tragedy a life was saved
It's of a little girl and a soldier who braved
A Chief Master Sergeant in the USAF
Allows mans humanity to kindly show face
This little girl who was saved was shot in the head
He stayed by her side for she should have been dead
To see pictures like this in the theatres of war
Maybe it's understandable to see what we fight for
An alleged soldier in wanton family wipe
What takes a soldier to become their type
My heart goes out to this little girl
And all the other children caught up in this war ridden world
Written on the spur of the moment after receiving a picture from Sara Kendrick
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php
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