I'm tell'n you bloke, it ain"t no joke,
specially if he's a big and red, and a
Joey's dad..who got him quite
Already mad! Ya may well think when
He's hunkerd down, real low against
The ground, just munchi'n on veg
But geez he's got some edge' so if
You think to applick.? To his ribs a stick?! I advise ya nooo! Do not do that Joe.!!!
Some stand at eight feet nine.' And when
They are in a bind.??? First they tilt the head. Left eye, right eye..Just to sort'a say- see' what'cha do'in ta me.? Then its
Up he'll come skin tight like a drum.' And even
If your name is fred.? Well its now to late to get
To the shed..Its time to ( suck it and see.!)
Immediately...Just in time the earth quake
Happened.' All the bloody roos; just wen't scatter'n God always comes in time, ya know? even saved on a dime, as it goes '
There is plenty of times to stay in my lane
To try and beat my own PR on the same course
However now is not the time to rest on my laurels
Not time to simply add edifice to what I’ve mastered
Growth requires pruning and sometimes replanting
Cutting deeper into the halls of unknown
My mind and body have healed with a gap
A gap on a tree for a new branch to bloom
A season to grow so I can later on sow
Muscles do not grow unless the routine is thrown
My soul pines to be put to a new test
The lord gave us stem cells for a reason
Dare poke the bear, rattle the cage,
Time will slink away to shun you.
For the fight is more rant than rage.
Dare poke the bear!
Friends will cringe and flinch at your blew.
Ignoring pleas from wise old sage,
You've bitten more than you can chew.
So let the swing and swipe in cage.
Suffice to quell your hoodoo brew,
Before it poisons all on stage.
Dare poke the bear!
Despise poesy AI, it mimics, lies, fakes ~ never dreams or cries
Pinch me, poke me
I still dream
Poets rattle
Every ream
Words don't fail me
As I fall
I want to capture
Love, is all
Blank page
Staring
At the start
Composition of the heart
Blues and blacks
They flutter by
Angel's wings
Ooh.. butterfly
Nighttime thoughts
Longing morns
Aching words
Birdsong dawns
They all inspire
A bit, it's true
But in my dreams
My dear, it's you
Loyal companion carved from a sturdy oak.
This eternal gratitude will never be revoked.
You've been there for me more then
some human folk.
I think I may be in love with you and that is no joke.
Please stay by my side until the day I croak,
if perchance we come upon a very nasty bloke,
I will turn you upside down and give him a poke!
So many nice views in wild,
Beautiful natural things.
I dislike that kind of poke
Could not smell scents
From this mobile screen
pink dot in the air
small rose on the tall branch sways
a poke of beauty
Heidi Sands
6/13/22
Would Poke Than Provoke Until Broke
had heard when they poke
potential was to provoke
would do until broke
we read about Jobe
was wild when he wore a robe
earing in each lobe
(in room had a globe)
had been cynical
when war was political
am hysterical
often obsequious
he had been called hibiscus
presumed promiscuous
would wear uniform
which always did keep him warm
protect in a storm
found dog in his lap
around would slap and slap
in brain was a gap
he had an instinct
when it did become distinct
in certain precinct
when we heard compline
knew Jesus was always fine
glad that He is mine
we were paddling
when we first met Madeleine
her horse saddling
was a perfect host
paperback did cost the most
he would brag and boast
(Admiral Stavrides)
over eggs would flip
had looked like a sinking ship
when we got a grip
spring is in the air
at singing birds sit and stare
scared away by big bear
never poke a sleeping bear
he may be playing possum
waiting to turn you into
a morning snack quite awesome
who can calculate
the cost of any scratch
without putting a value on
the itch it has to match
could one hand do it all alone
or must it join the other
to match the width and breadth
of the itch it has to cover
or a cautious rub against a tree
out of sight, no one can see
with ooows, and oooohs, and moaning ahhhhs
that send the walkers to their cars
and then there is
that little itch
it can’t be reached
ain’t it a *itch
John G. Lawless
©3/4/2022
What are we doing?
What have we become?
We are told to line up and get a free shot.
Why?
Are we doing this because it is a free shot?
Freedom isn't free
Freedom is about personal choice
Have we forgotten this choice so many have fought and died for here and around the world?
We must study and remember the past
Or we will lose all of our choices
The fog has covered us for 18 months
It is time to open the windows and scream for all to hear
FREEDOM ISN'T FREE! MY BODY MY CHOICE!
08/11/2021
The bigger the government, the smaller the men
None smaller than Obama, Trump, or Joseph Biden
Give me a land where men breathe deep, proudly stand
Not, cog-like, bow to Amazon, Google, or Mar-a-Lago Land
The calendar says April
But it’s winter once again,
Although the bulbs are up and bears
Have likely left the den.
I bundled up to take my walk
With scarf and gloves and hood,
Not attired for the season
As I would have thought I should.
It’s a poke by Mother Nature,
A reminder we should not
Get complacent for what we expect
Might not be what we’ve got.
Prancer gave Dasher a poke
It was so hard that he had to soak
His ribs were still sore
As he heads to the door
He pranced to the song, backstroke
Inspirational beauty, comes to life every spring.
The baby birds in their nest, to their mothers still cling.
The hibernating bear, still asleep in his den.
Will soon wake up cranky, so we'll let him sleep in.
Many creatures of beauty, some big and some small.
They thrive in the forest, well into the fall.
The bunnies and squirrel, the lark and the wren.
They know to be quiet, by the sleeping bears den.
But here comes a rat, with a stick in his paw.
Knowing his intent, a raven shrieks in caw.
The rat pokes and prods, the air smells foul.
They wait to hear the sleeping bear's growl.
The rat continues, along on his schlep.
The bear now awakens, poked where he once slept.
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