Pass Off Poems

Ode To the Passing Cloud

To move on as thy born nature has been, 
Pass on, O Passing Cloud, with all thy blight,
Let every dark despair deliver hope,  
Let every cheerless gloom smile as delight.

Come if ye may, unto my dry drab life,
Let rainy days no despair to me give,
Nor strife to me, born who's in sunny land,
I love to see rainbows at sunset eve. 

Come, Passing Cloud, teach me to stay afloat,	
There’s no joy like soaring high in blue skies,
Come as a rescue boat in stormy sea,    
Try, bring back cheers that oft fail to arise. 

Remember, Passing Cloud, there’s no failure,
As, to pass on be thy innate nature,
Each failure fertilizes seeds of cure,
As bright dream oft follows a bad nightmare.

Life too is much like thee, O Passing Cloud,
Be it so dark, or bright and silvery,
Every day’s born with a new hope from sun,
All things pass off-- times stormy or breezy.

If what moves on is world, to let go's life,
To stay put, a sure death-defining strife,
Clouds drifting slowly from vanishing sight
Be my moment, eternal that alights.

No Need For a Crown

Gray storm clouds circle around
As I can hear a distant rumble
A breeze picks up, the leaves tumble
Thunder speaks with a low drum sound

Rain reaches the hill here and there
Refreshing my troubled heart
So many things, no-where to start
But, there is resolution somewhere

I speak to the storm, thunder I join
Things that I know will be heard
Or some will pass off as absurd
It’s really like the toss of a coin

The day’s hot air suddenly cools down
Green leaves flutter in the air
The Humming Birds feeding, do not care
So happy, free, sweet sugar - no need for a crown

Heidi Sands

5/14/22

In Search of a Brighter Tomorrow

Life's journey is always uncertain
We never know whether it'll be happiness or pain
It's hope that'll always keep us alive
And for a better future we all shall  strive.

And sure there'll be a brighter tomorrow 
And everything will be okay 
We'll be having a good good life
And that's what, my conscience say.

I have seen the best of times
And seen the worst as well
But time is a great healer by itself,
And how? It's only for time to tell.

The worst days will pass off
Paving the way for good
Our good old days will be back I say 
Let's just do our duties, what we should.

But amidst of all these chaos 
There are some lessons learnt,
That should we defy nature
We shall bear its brunt.

But for now let's all hope against hope, 
And Let's pray that everything be fine
For sure it'll be a good good life
And we all shall rise and shine.

No Problems

If you've noticed there's no problems,
the government has too.
There's a billion cars poluting
and a mask to put on new.

There's a tax upon your property
for nothing they might do.
And a pox upon your neighbourhood
the cops will card at you.

There's a billion kitchens rinsing
what the government calls trash.
Where the people doing the rinsing
pay the bill of their own cash.

And a group of food been modified
they pass off as organic.
With no label to say otherwise
and keep us guessing frantic.

And a thousand private food banks
telling government we're poor.
When a wealthy funded welfare
should exist for our tenure.

Making several billion dollars
from a loan invested gold.
On a mint who's plates are rendered
for a government to hold.

Where the deed to our own dollars
are a travesty of old.
And the breech of our own value
for the talismen's last fold.

Where no food's upon the table
and the market sold to one.
That the note to one another-
"Hold your own until you're done".

Talk Is Cheap

I am not that person anymore

I have settled old score's 

People can change 

Can they ?

Do they really ?

You tell me !

Or are we not creatures of habit ?

And are the only people who this mythology dispel ?

Trying far to hard to pass off the same old set of cards

As second hand for new 

But can't fool you anymore

Because fool me once 

I stopped counting second chance's 

When I ran out of fingers and toe's 

And what we sow we reap

Talk is cheap

I Pen My Poem

I pen my poem imperfect
Impassioned, yet lacking any of the prose,
That professors preach repeatedly
But not possessed within my posts
I pretend to pass off poetry
To a populace content
And as I penetrate a bit deeper 
my poem becomes palpable at best

2017

Hey kid, whatcha doing here
Has it already been a year
Father time is all grown up
2017 I wish you luck

Years gone by to tell the truth
Have been more than a bit rough on you
It's time to pass off the baton
To the new kid on the block

This new kid to come along
We hope to fatten him all up
With the best of everything
All the goodies life can bring

We'll treat this year like no other
Save the baby and bathwater 
Keep him around until he's old
Polishing the silver, shining the gold

As every year we hold out hope
That this one's not all that she wrote
Oh and if you don't mind, 
One more thing
Will you get the phone...
I think I hear the New Year ring

A King's Penance

Don't you see what you'll be?

What is possible

Set you free.

When doubt runs the game

The days are the same

Fix on a worry

Pass off the blame.

Can't you see what king you are?

Stepped from your kingdom

Once too far.

When the crow flies by night

You're lost in your way

You sell off your crown

With the things that you say.

What you'll be is gone

Writing in stone.

What you'll be is gone

When day is done.

Valentine Haiku Questionku 1

Flower’s heart flutters
Bees pass off the love letter
Bed remains fertile

Alone together
He pulls out his sharpened knife
Names tattoo a tree

Current pulling hard
Water pulling you under
What’s the river’s name?

Temporary

maybe there’s an inner shame
that s/he doesn’t want to talk about,
maybe a thousand shrinks couldn’t
skin the top of that surface,
but it glows from out the iris when
confronted with another who
sizes him/her up in this day & age
with an assessment of a whole
personality, based on what it is that
one does for money.

quickly running to that pool of excuses,
quickly devising lies---
anything to paint a picture of a person
that s/he isn’t, anything to pass off the image
that what s/he is actually doing in life 
is all
temporary.

because this place in life, this moment,
which s/he wishes in the deepest of her/his heart
that s/he was not currently living,
is in fact the case &
s/he is more concerned about the opinions of 
others, s/he is more concerned about how s/he
will be perceived down the line,
as such a fragile existence taunts.

problem is, 
it’s all temporary---
anyone can lose it all so quickly that their 
****ing head is left spinning &
if you are not living with that notion in the back of
your mind,
then there is not a pool of excuses out there
which will save you from
your fall.

Snuffed

You put a jar over the flame, 
Snuff me out before I have the chance
To burn.  How could you-- 
Leave me alone in here? 
My strength, like the wax, 
Can dripdripdrip for so long until
 I end up a pool of goo. 
My patience, the wick, 
isrunningshort.  

You encompass me with those jack-
O-lantern eyes, bind me
With that W-ed grimace that 
You can pass off as a smile. 
And when I guide you
Up the path, you'd much rather
Take the shadow, so that
The cobwebs, and the
Pinpricks, and my
Scabby knees don't matter
While you are moths, 
Swarming round the blue light--
It's the most comfortable 
Death by far; 
Because so long as your capacity 
Refuses to ensnare me, it
 Doesn't have to be your fault. 
(I am flaring, fighting long, satin shadows
That weave their way over
My poems.) 

I beat against the panes (You 
have to admit, your rapport
is just transparent), 
But there's no getting through. 
It doesn't matter; 
I could blow myself out, 
And all it would do
Is give you an excuse
To buy a better light.

Jack

My quota short, those letters all I got -
You know I’ve never asked my parents why…
A famous Jack, the Ripper – surely not!
I really wouldn’t/couldn’t harm a fly.

The bright and breezy sailor comes to mind -
Although I’ve never fully gone to sea,
I’ve crossed the Channel (sailing of a kind),
But truly nautical I’ll never be.

The spooky lantern used at Halloween,
Its carved up grinning pumpkin face aglow!
I guess I couldn’t pass off looking mean -
Okay, perhaps that one’s another no.

Aha, I see – old English term for man!
I don’t believe I’m macho stuff, alas.
Although I act as manly as I can,
I’m not a he man - no, I’ll have to pass.

I wondered why and had to ask my folk.
‘Ah,’ Mother said. ‘I thought you’d ask me that.
‘We couldn’t choose - and then my waters broke…
‘Your father drew a name out of a hat!’

Naked

I’ve tried to hide
But you find me
You find my psyche
Dressed in a turtleneck
With a refined scarf
And you disrobe each layer
Pulling at that dangling string
The hint that may unravel me
Playing hide n seek
Like a toddler
If I hide my eyes
You can’t see me
But when I’m peeking
Through the cracks of
My insecure fingers 
Squeezed tight afraid
Of being so raw
Your gaze is still there
Peeling back unconsented 
Layers as if to ravish
My vulnerability
But you don’t 
Give me a choice
I stand powerless 
And the plastic smile
I could pass off
And use to convince 
Strangers of my 
Perfect world 
You simply pick at
Digging your curious nail
Into the cracks of my being
Like an experienced banker
Identifying counterfeit money
You laugh at my mask
Your gaze chisels 
Gaping holes that 
Crumble in the heat
Of you loving me
And there I am
Thankful you found
My real and naked me
Because sometimes I hide
And I cannot even find myself

Desperate (Tritina)

I wish I knew how, had ability to turn
away from you and not look back to see if it
affected you, my turning away, walking off.

I want you to miss this, and I fail to pass off
the distance as a gravely unfortunate turn
of events, see truth within desperation, it

blinds, consumes, and (I hate to, but) I admit it
impossible to justify the breaking off
of any contact to once again inward turn.

I want to reach within, find this, and turn it off.

Grown-Up of Snow

GROWN-UP OF SNOW

The wintertime came vigorous, fall in torn
rivers, trees, hills by snow spacing white
boots let imprints stepped across trails
roofs in split white water crystal Villages
masses and sight snow shown as term
Thanksgiving thou Christmas ritual it eras –

Folks made balls and struck targets wherever
sculpt figured of statues’ chart in precious
skaters sped brash in snow-hill roads
Outlaw drunk water-crystal melts in grass.

Drivers saw naught at windshields, at feet
headlights up reach tiny space snow falling                                                                               
roads, the heinous nights induce the minds
roads’ and transit-line sign up coating
Of snow, who can fallow it?
Up hit by shovel roads pull up thy eyes.  

Deers south for grass foods lost up ground
coat-ice floors-snow became the terrain
And ice fishiest regions’ build-up.

Spring came lit, grants ripen the Villages
but, not bodies wanna steps by melting ice 
while’ snow sight gone we knew the place
and each thing pass-off regress nature way
The rains hitting, and buds sprouting anew!

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