all I desired
made me an oval …
teardrop with legs
wet and heavy
makes life unsteady …
teardrops wobble
sibling nor friend
has an ear to lend …
tears want to talk
Elders sit at the fire place
Members of parliament sit at the parliament
Pupils sit in class room
Students sit in the lecture room
He that sitteth at the fire place of the elders
Should not sit to gaze
But keep the fire burning
Collecting firewood
Lest the fire burnsout
New students light up a candle
From your colleagues
Runners pass the touch to the
Younger generation .
Give a smile to your next neighbour
I sit and stare beyond what's there, besides
"The oval window, a portal to another dimension".
It drags the moon's eclipse off the sun's circle
to show an ellipse with twin foci, in two dimensions not one.
The tension woven into its shape shrouds a duality,
a flip-flop state, steeped in,
and reeking with ambivalence.
An oval coracle holding on,
rocking in choppy seas.
Therein lies a worm hole,
where logic warps to both sides, here and now, together,
where light bends, twists refracts to an oval rainbow,
where time stands still, then back-tracks
to before, to way, way back when,
and on to now and then.
An oval belies uncertainty,
spiraling like sand,
down in an hour-glass
down the plug-hole, down into the sink below,
collected in an oval coracle,
an egg yet to hatch.
An almost dwarf from ukraine'
Who is real fond of warfare and gain
Got to the 'white house to barter'
Yet ended up starters
For calling; out' unsavoury names'
He then went to starmer'
another no charmer'
Causing Britian, much
anger and shame'
I hear daily its people complain!
A blank book lay on the table.
On it, the keys of the house
Waited to lock, unlock.
A gilded frame, echoing memories
Of love, waited, to be lifted, held.
Dragonflies silently flew following the rays
that streamed through the window panes.
The table cloth, bed sheets; friends in time
Looked at each other in the gloom.
The vase stood tall, awaiting fresh flowers.
Listless, the showpieces stand
with webs, catching dreams they weave
Secrets hushed, dust gathering on them
they pose at the fallen curtains, wrinkled, torn.
in the misty space, growing thin.
The oval shaped glass at a distance,
Still carried the perfume long used.
The book on the table, waited for a pen.
It’s pages, blank. Unaware, whispering
A past that never gave birth to a future.
On one side, a glass of water half empty,
Waited to be re-filled.
So has been the shelf, the cupboard, the bed
waiting, to be touched, held, spent.
For seven years now.
Racing the oval of tide
Watching the sun and moon collide
Riding on horses in the oval of fate
Saddling on courses in the ring of slate
Horses in breeds of colors and shade
Forces in creeds of odors and glade
Mares and lasses of cold and wintry grounds
Grasses and races on parch, dusty mounds
Sun speaks of myths and bounds of horses' blether
Moon tweaks on blithes and squally weather
Sun and moon are light and dark horses
Scuttling, bustling in many races
Sprinting is a long distance course
Glinting and weltering without remorse
Humans breathe as horses, treading and running with reins
Born to win in the oval... praying, striving with strong veins!
A narwhal frolicked in the Oval Office
and stirred the status quo
They tried to remove his potent tusk
but they wound up eating crow-
Much to their great dismay
babies were a little safer
the economy was aurora hot.
He thickened up the thin blue line
and wove a welcome mat for God-
He poked the giant panda in the snout
plugged a hole in our leaky bank account.
Come 2020-it'll be tough to ride a braying donkey...
when we've been purring along in a Maserati
Whatever comes out
of the oval orifice,
is spewed out toxins.
Donald Trump never had any doubt
He could hear Melania shout:
"Oh for goodness' sake
How long does it take
For a couch potato to sprout?"
An Oval Office
An oval office;
Sign of truth and honesty,
Until Trump arrived.
JIm Horn
An Oval Precaution
Safety comes first when dealing with the oval
They are the shape of things to come
Which once was round before they found their way
Ovals start out as circles drawn upside down in lead
A thin line curved first between reality
Other objects follow them in calm accordance
Ovals are not born or hatched from eggs
Imagination welcomes those who wait
They have no eyes
But serve as examples of how to be
While coming into being from the source
Original in the course they take
To occupy a particular space when they are in it
When being formed they learn no boundaries
Roll oddly down the street
They could learn a thing or two from tires
Ovals never look both ways
(Having no eyes creates that quandary)
Beware of them
Take every precaution
Take an oval precaution if you can
Perched oval moon glared in baleful triumph;
it’s huge, round face turned my bones to goo!
Mr. Orb’s rapt, relentless gaze raised goosebumps;
scared-goo-feet flew, ‘cause, I swear, it yelled boo!
Oh,
Onward
October
Orchestra ode,
Offering tree leafs
Of oval and other.
Orange, red, onslaught color
Optimize falls’ ooh-aah skin tease
To tantalize seasons sassy change ~
Our tingle, tickle, breezy couple time.
Listen to the beats
Heart calling to thee, whispering thy name.
Oh the purity! Meek it is
Reaching for thy soul
Bringing beats to form an oval truth.
Serious
Overheard by a fly upon the wall,
During Clinton's tete-a-tete with his moll,
"Order extra salami
And a tad more pastrami,
For my pizza on your next service call!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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