LETTERS TO THE POETS WE LIKE
The first and last poem that you wrote
A limerick indeed, but it was just for me
In response to a poem I wrote about you
In many ways it was intended to be true
About style and substance one may see
But your view of me, a handwritten note
Almost tongue in cheek, words were kind
On a scrap of paper in scribbled longhand
My poem about you was more of a sonnet
For a quarter hour, my sole focus was on it
Hoping that you would at least understand
Not just about image, but also your mind
Yet in the end I believe, a fair exchange
We are just friends, and good company
Meeting by accident on most occasions
Yet always maintaining friendly relations
It’s tit for tat, but with a smile you see
For those not poetical, seen as strange
Categories:
quarter hour, friendship, poems,
Form: Rhyme
I’m sorry we can’t start the morning
- I’m still stretching and yawning.
Oh, give me a skibidi break,
why’d you wait to snake me awake?
Anyway, you know not to bother me
unless you’ve brought coffee.
You can’t just insist we have to leave -
I haven’t even brushed my teeth!
I’d love to join in your drama
but I’m still in my pajamas.
Can you give me a quarter hour?
I’ve really got to take a shower.
We aren’t back in school,
who says there are rules?
You know, summer loses its charm
when you have to set an alarm.
Does running late count as exercise?
.
Kamala Harris! I’m SO hyped.
I guess Yale’s (5 member) Alpha Kappa Alpha ladies get to reify their nang now.
.
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Songs for this:
Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra
I Remember the Sun by XTC
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slang..
skibidi = insert the profanity of your choice
reify = representing something sketchy as a concrete thing.
nang = cool
Categories:
quarter hour, forgiveness, friendship, humor, morning,
Form: Rhyme
I am frustrated and annoyed by his ticking,
or perhaps it should be labeled the 'tocking'
By the never-ending tongue wagging clicking
in the language better known as 'clocking'
Must Grandfather Time command my life?
He so rudely continues without a thought
that his hammer yammering rhythm of strife
mocks the beating pulse of my human heart
What a wonderful fantasy my life would be
if for one day I'd not hear his unrelenting beat
I'd be stress free if time would stand still for me
for without his gonging life would be so sweet
In solace of night, I seek sleep and close my eyes
in need of escape and retreat from earthly chore
but I cannot find a moment of tranquil paradise
for his insistent knelling peals out once more
Each quarter hour his mallet chimes out to me
but his clappers sing off key in monotonous song
Not a lyrical lullaby, but a torturous rhapsody
whose tireless verses antagonize me far too long
I'm tenacious to put an end to his wagging tongue
and shackle the swinging motion of his pendulum
Each hour of the day and night would go by unsung
Being silenced is the price paid by the meddlesome
Categories:
quarter hour, time,
Form: Rhyme
I hope you all did your assignment, no you won't be graded
But all that was meant is that His Memory doesn't get faded
I just want to welcome everyone back it is so great to see you
You may feel that you lack but one day you'll see that isn't true
Now let's begin the lesson by revisiting what was said before
Think of life as a great blessing and all that God has in store
For today it's stamina we will discuss and how it all plays in
Each of us is prone to cuss and fall right back into that sin
Only the strong will survive for I've see so many failures
You don't just suddenly dive and then hope for the cures
Remember open those eyes wide in looking for His Glory
Or you will never realize the whole meaning of His Story
Now let's open up that Book just feel His Awesome Power
Tonight I want you to take a look for say a quarter hour
Lose yourself in His Word Psalms I would suggest you start
As time has now occurred, Goodnight, God Bless your heart
Categories:
quarter hour, analogy, faith,
Form: Rhyme
I am quite annoyed by the ticking,
or perhaps it's called 'tocking,'
by the ever-present clicking
in a language known as 'clocking.'
Must Grandfather Time command my life?
He so rudely continues without a thought
that his hammering rhythm of strife
mocks the pulse of my human heart.
What a wild fantasy my life would be
to exist without his relentless beat.
If time could but stand still for me,
the silence would be so sweet.
In solace of night I close my eyes
and seek escape from earthly chore.
I cannot find a tranquil paradise
for his gong peals out once more.
Each quarter hour he calls to me
as if singing a monotonous song.
But his tune is never a rhapsody.
Incessant verses are much too long.
I am eager to stop his wagging tongue
and shackle the swing of his pendulum.
Each hour would then go by unsung.
At last he'd know his time had come.
Categories:
quarter hour, humorous, imagination, stress,
Form: Rhyme
Tick tock tick tock goes your clock
time passes and passes my time
tick tock, tick tock goes my life time
Quarter hour you sing a song
Every quarter you sing away the time
Chimes and ding dong on the hour
My power is fading with the sun set
Sing me a lullaby all the night long
Nightmares of phantoms stealing my life
Singing a lullaby while tightening my noose.
Categories:
quarter hour, age, angst, betrayal, blessing,
Form: Free verse
Epileptics
Epileptics may be caused they say,
by other lives for which they pay,
Unconscious comes, then taken over,
threshing spirit, joins another,
Ask in the Lords name, they be cast out,
Raise their vibrations higher, rout!
Made whole by laying on of the hands,
Left hand over the adomen ,
right over the solar plexus, grand,
Half to three quarter hour,
keep at your hand, vibration power,
Need the higher vibrations every day,
Max four weeks, will go away,
Made whole in this way,
Offending spirit has to pay.
Don Johnson
TEXT OF READING 281-4
See Edgar Cayce reading no above ….
Categories:
quarter hour, adventure,
Form: Ballad
He greets everyone as soon as they enter the hall
with a great big smile on his full moon-like face
arms always moving, no matter the time or place.
Just wind him up and he never stops running,
not allowed to keep time from losing no matter the pace.
The tick of the clock
I thought would never stop
it kept on going no matter the day;
day or night the pendulum swung
with each quarter hour the chimes were rung.
He's seen so much in our life pass by
keeping on measuring it tick by tick
counting the hours lick by lick.
Each day that comes his friendly face is there
ticking and chiming all the way.
This old friend has been here many a year
greeting me and all who enter
day by day he just keeps on going
never getting tired or slowing down
his face always smiling, never a frown.
How I love to see his face
knowing that he will greet me when I enter the place
never a miss of the tick of the clock
as long as the pendulum swings he never stops.
Categories:
quarter hour, nostalgia, day, me, time,
Form: Free verse
QUARTER HOUR PENNY THEATRE
Where is my muse?
When I am a puppet
With no puppeteer
I wore out my shoes
Dancing alone
No strings attached
Scissors on a stage
Cutting a rug
Pen upon a page
Hacksaw in a cage
Sobriety is a drug
Hard to free yourself
I must amuse myself
The audience went home
The lights went down
All of the warmth I felt
Became the cold I know
In the dark, empty theatre
Categories:
quarter hour, art, loss, music, sad
Form: I do not know?
I get up in the morning, jump into the shower,
Wash my hair, brush my teeth in a quarter hour,
Make the coffee, put on clothes, check the mobile phone,
Take my meds, pet the dog, and throw my wife a bone,
Wednesday is the busiest, recycle and the trash,
Collecting it, tying it, completed in a flash,
Coffee creamer, straw in lid, goin’ out the door,
On the road, to first stop, a little after four,
Client’s house, DFW, several times a day,
Back and forth, with eyes closed, my car knows the way,
When drivin’ done, paper work, it must be complete,
Invoice this, total that, a monumental feat,
Kiss the bride, little TV, climb into the bed,
Lotsa work, but don’t ya think, better’n be’n dead!
Categories:
quarter hour, funny,
Form: Rhyme