I plucked the moon from the sky last night.
No one else seemed to be using it
So, I thought, “Why not?”
I mistakenly thought it would fit comfortably in my pocket
But, it bulged, protruded, and made it difficult to sit!
“Stupid moon!
What good are you?” I grumbled.
A TV news anchor rattled on about
Potential collapsed ecosystems, climate chaos, and mass extinctions.
All around me
Would-be lovers unraveled their arms and parted ways and
Dreamers no longer looked to the sky.
“The world has gone mad,” I muttered.
“But, at least I have this shiny rock, even if it IS a pain in the rear.”
However, it kept tugging, pulling, and wouldn’t stay still.
Determining it not worth the trouble,
I relinquished the object to the night
And went to dwell in a crazy world.
I spent much of my childhood being enraged
Fairness mattered to me
I was a kindness advocate
Deploring bullies, liars and thieves
Good thing I did not know about sex trafficking or rapists
I cannot imagine how incensed I would have been
My head was already purple red with anger most of the time
Injustices caused me angst, depleting my joy
There was a perpetual pout on my face
My lips protruded like the front bumper of a 1959 Chevy
I wanted her tailfins; hoping to back into people to hurt them
I spent much of my childhood being enraged
Crack! I lay, beneath me creaking
Hath it taken from me? What to give?
Mayhaps yesternight another seeking
For not many there is to live
It approaches, shaking, floors creaking
To thee I will never forgive
The black, slender arms reach
It thrashes! THRASHES, thrash–
Follicles, it pulls, off me, I screech
With many a fang, I faintly see a gnash
Holding me, gripping such as a leech
Of my being, will you bash?
Desires faintly protruded, of a glare
I wanted to feel an embrace so warm
Instead, I long, gasping for air
Of my strangled state, you aware of enorm
Thirsted for love, endearment not there
Just us, our state one described deform
Despite conditions, not a sound shall hang
As I know we are bound to meet again
Bound, bound beneath thee embrace and fang
Thy body, slim and slime, gets off now then
You’ll return, but you go with a bang
As I am left to wonder when
A small difference between fantasy and make-believe
As kids, the cartoons we see forms the scenes in our dreams
The scene captured brings nothing less than an animated concept
But looking further it speaks to a child's 'mares
Whether it's pleasant or dreadful is yet to be decided.
Describing a flying ?? unicorn will definitely feature a protruded horn
It's not a unicorn neither a flying ?? horse.
It's a new concept of animals extinct or yet to be discovered
Seasoned with beauty and animated imaginations.
I see nothing but beauty and fear all well captured in a single shot.
The thing with psychology is it darkens the human
when you’re no longer guessing or sat there assuming
the intent of a pattern inferring the action
a shade that people would name as the black one
There’s more bad than good
mostly misunderstood
the way they were raised
the lack of the praise
but mostly relatability that never took place
somebody else out there in the same place
relating to struggles you currently face
to take you away from the lonely embrace
And families do matter
the man and the master
the lady and daughter
what went before ya
because the greatest mothers have never been boys
only a man knows what that path deploys
and I can not understand females in puberty
I’m on the outside that experience protruded me
So try to be thoughtful and engage your brain
engage it like pride when you know it is shame
because shame has a lining that’s silver in shade
growing up is reliant on honest and brave
White Ted looked flat;
that hair and pyjama bed smell.
She was getting heavier
My bleary eyes trying not to sleep.
Bone protruded from flesh,
blooded the seat and gearstick;
leaning in best I could
to cannulate, set up drip by torchlight
as Firefighters started cutting.
She smiled and tightened her grip;
I kissed her forehead
still feeling the bitter cold.
Fluorescent coat bulkily hindering
as cracking metal sheered;
dressing the open bloody carnage.
Suddenly toast popped up,
"Have a good day at school" I said,
fighting my tiredness.
The mangled wreck still lingered
as I put my daughter down,
heading for bed, another shift tonight.
His clothes were tattered, in vivid shades of red blue & yellow
he wore leatherette shoes blackly polished and gleaming with shine
Red fiery hair that summoned like a fire hydrant and a big fat rubber nose that honked when it was squeezed.
He had a polka dotted hanky that protruded from his well padded suit,
and a kangaroo pocket in which he kept all his most precious belongings.
Aside from the fact that those big blue eyes of his were undeniably sad,
every part of his retinue screamed, "I am funny, I can make you laugh"
People came to the circus to watch his goofy antics and
to forget their worries for a little while. One day while he was blowing up balloons for the children, he died of a massive heart attack.
In heaven the angels took Tatters to the children's room. Sitting on a big shiny
red stool he was asked to make balloons for every child in God's creative nest.
His eyes were never sad again for he knew that here,
he could make a child smile and never grow old, or ever be sad again.
The End.
I remember it well.
The feeling was swell.
It happened once a year;
An event most precious and dear.
The fragrance was in the air.
It was still mid-Spring, but from the sky,
There protruded the aroma of summer.
I hasten to say, it was a beautiful first of May.
And presently, I pause with warm affections, to reflect,
To muse upon the emotions that were like no other day.
To us, May Day was like a holiday encased in amusements.
It was time to plait the Maypole.
With coordination and precision, we flowed
With the rhythm of the music as we danced and skipped
Around the pole, plaiting eye-catching bright and bold colors.
They were rainbow colors, filled with life, like those in our hearts.
Oh, what lovely and memorable visions of childhood, so real and vivid.
No selfies or videos, but the pictures are forever painted in our souls.
It's true that life took us away, far from the shores of childhood festivities.
In our career years, we are encumbered with futuristic aspirations, but as
the locomotive of life slows, our minds swing back to the Maypoles of yesterday.
050422PS
Marvel of fond Mother-Nature,
Carefully carved nomenclature!
Mountains fold hands toward blue skies,
Where stars flutter, like, butterflies!
Water-waves warmly wash the feet,
Fleets on sleets meet around and greet!
High, steep, sharply molded boulders,
Stand in accord holding shoulders...!
Solitary human standing,
On a broken cliff crash-landing!
A bird flying around its edge,
To build her nest, finding no hedge!
An owl dwelling in a small hole,
Lost as though with a restless soul!
Bats, waiting for the silent night,
Alike, are, bleak views of cliff- sight...!
Suffering writs of erosion,
Churned by chisels of corrosion!
Carved, compiled, combined, conditioned,
Into wild bird-beaks protruded!
Steeply, slippery, surfaces,
Sloppy, soapy, still, circuses!
Cliff has its captivating charm,
That until disturbed does no harm...!
11 January 2022
C Form - Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I've seen eye-catching blossoms elsewhere, but I need not look further than my front yard. Take the IRIS blossoms for example. Why, she's always
beautiful and robed in purple, but, although I don't think she's selfish or anti-social, she never stays for long. The white blossomed ROSES are beautiful
and plentiful; the pink ones are most beautiful and stunning, but not near as plentiful as the white ones. Across the walkway, the two distinguished ROSE
plants produced outstanding red blossoms this Spring. They were several years in coming with such a 'mother lode', but this year, they spoke in 'show
and tell fashion', loud and clear. My eyes never cease to adore a one-foot CATCUS from which protruded 4 beautiful blossoms. A sticker, but beautiful.
051721PSCtest, The Most Beautiful Flowers You've Seen Blossoming This Spring So Far , M.L. Kiser. 5P
Her hands looked so very old.
Veins protruded like sandhills on a desert.
Her dry cracked skin resembled parched clay.
Fingers dangled displaying broken fingernails.
Obviously this poor dear soul had lived a hard life.
It is said that the eyes are the window to the soul.
I think the hands are the map to get there !
All the trappings of a Romanian queen
Gave her the immediate ambiance of power confidence.
Her aura proceeded her body into the room.
There was an anticipation seconds prior to her arrival.
Her entrance was provocative, practically obscene.
The level of sensuality brought forth made us all look up.
Who is she? Some whispered, recognizing ultimate power.
Her precognitive skills protruded into our thoughts.
There was a hush, a whisper, a spiritual pause
Most of the empaths and seers were intimidated, I was one.
Her majestic qualities surrounded the room,
Enveloping us in silent disbelief and awe.
Praise for Ways God Will Amaze
What we must do is give God praise,
For all the ways that He will amaze;
Overlook greed's;
Meet my needs;
Calm He brought to turbulent days.
My ego apparently has protruded,
Severely and badly I was deluded,
And am perplexed;
Want to be texted;
From list am left off and excluded.
Life Giving Technique Seek
What I want is life giving technique;
When my length would reach peak;
On depend,
To the end;
This is very one which I shall seek.
Long Nose Expose Along With Clothes
Last time I looked had a long nose,
After all my lies they would expose;
Did cringe;
On fringe;
In lives have caused severe blows.
To the new priest we want to be nice;
A much shorter sermon shall suffice;
In stature tall;
Never appall;
Feel like my brain was caught in vise.
Jim Horn
Poles up from bottom had protruded;
Others were out of sight and excluded;
Life displayed;
Never did fade,
While all of nature's beauty exuded.
Jim Horn
The thunder pounded in the night,
impending storm, a tension felt.
The darkness trembled with delight
as clouds protruded like a welt,
and air with trepidation dealt.
The thunder pounded in the night,
and lightning flashed across the sky.
The anxious night was glowing bright;
anticipations running high
as lovers gazed into their eyes.
The thunder pounded in the night,
and rain came pouring from above.
The room was heavy with storm’s might
as gale force winds gave pair a shove
while yielding to this night of love.
The thunder pounded in the night;
their bodies now as one conform
with passion burning, fires ignite.
But now a calmness starts to form,
yet calm is just the eye of storm…..
January 9, 2019
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