REHTORICAL RAMBLINGS-:-
incessant
individuated
rattling
dedicated
optimism
so COMPASSIONATELY SYMBOLIZED
affection
understanding
transcending
vivid
vitality
in REMOTE REMINISCENCE
optimistically
expressed
scribbled
splotched
theories
The soft clouds of cotton white
Wipe away the tears of the earth
Absorbing the pain poured and puddled below
Swarms of pestilence incubated in muddy melancholic pools of despair
From clean, fresh, white fluff, these clouds absorb the real us
Aging each one to the salt and pepper gray and musky stench of filth
Mop it up
Wring it Out
Over mountain, valley, and field
The dirty emotion and sordid feelings like mop water rain down
Yet at the dawn a clean shining light
The sorrow of the night
Washed away with clear, blue skies and
The crisp wind snap of clothes line white clouds.
It’s night.
I text my friends.
I’m alive.
It’s night.
They don’t respond, so…
It’s night.
But it’s a good a time as any to ruin my life.
Hmmm.
I’d say I’m tired, but I’m not.
I’m just…
Going downstairs to make 10 sandwiches.
I really, really ruined my life.
My life! My life?
I drop a slice of bread.
They will see those texts in the morning.
It’s night.
I take my food to the porch.
My eyes are open.
I eat and dance around.
But still,
It’s night.
This brook in the woods I pass in the winter
It babbles and blisters and wanders and splinters
In all sorts of directions grinding and winding
Turns back in connection then to itself binding
Like limbs of a squid with their purpose undid
A playground of kids with rules they've rid
Not rigid or timid, free flows with no limit
Nothing to follow, full of depth's wildest grit
A space not to wallow, fills up all its hollow
Ill will and doubt with my pride it can swallow
Like veins it runs through with no skin to confine
This brook in the woods of a place that's all mine
Talking is exhausting.
You see, I can see the future.
So I know exactly what they are going to say.
But they’re reading my thoughts and trying to counter my premonitions.
So we always have arguments that don't make sense.
When I’m talking to myself…
I can just repeat myself over and over.
And be in limbo.
On my own terms.
Been outside for too long
I still wonder, whats wrong?
Can't feel the cold
Keep my chest puffed and bold
Where were you when it happened?
The whole ceiling collapsed
It felt like the sky was falling
The fact that I had faith is appalling
Around you, I felt at home
now its as if i am on the roam
Praying I don't fall and drool foam
feeling as stiff as a gnome
Some people think I’m anti human
Some believe I really would
Free this world of the species
If I easily could.
We are not the only animals
But for what it’s worth
We are the only ones
Destroying mother earth.
Seven days of creation
Just to give birth
To the scourge
Of this earth?
I don’t mean to offend
But will if needs must
To try and convince others
We hold this planet in trust;
Not just for future generations
Of our human race,
But for all the other animals
With whom we share this place.
I suppose it’s just another lost cause
When some see others in need
Of basic food and water
Just to satisfy their own greed.
The only mitigating factor,
Which rather baffles the mind,
No matter how we treat the animals
We inflict worse on our own kind.
So, praise the lord and pass the bottle.
Praise the lord that I am free
Praise the lord for pre -cast concrete
And let heaven help the trees.
And praise the lord for good strong drink
For when it hurts too much to think.
The beckoning sun calls out today
To come out and play and be happy
With things that sting like fire
Scorpions, cinders, and barbed wire
I knew such a fence once in the wild
Good memories of being a child
With scraped knees from bike falls
Riding around the city answering calls
I miss hearing a phone ringing in my ear
I have had many a friend those years
Before they knew what they couldn't say
They hated talking to me on any day
Tomorrow is Sunday the day of food
I don't eat much due to my moods
I watch and snivel at all who come
They are spies who wonder if I'm dumb
My intelligence isn't questionable at all
Crosswords sit before me and words fall
The letters glare at me and laugh back
Knowing these things isn't anything I lack
I'm giving up the life of lush
for that of a lowly pensioner.
The wife is too,
though to give her her due,
I said that I wouldn't mention her.
I'm cutting my cloth accordingly,
no more hedonistic soirées.
Gone are the excesses,
hyperbole and stresses
of this callow youths former days.
Now is the time for quiet reflection,
watching others make my mistakes.
Seeing them all careening along
with no thought of applying the brakes.
I could give them the benefit of my experience
if they'd a mind to take heed,
but to have a scar to remember it by,
well, first you must let it bleed.
So I'll just sit here and ruminate
with a glass or three of Shiraz
and let the young make their own mistakes
whilst I listen to Blues and some Jazz.
Then I'll look at the hand that's been dealt me,
and wonder should I go lower or higher?
I think I'll just stick, shout the wife to 'come quick'!
and throw another peasant on the fire.
An apple a day so they say
Barn owl hoots throughout the night
copper boiler full of Monday’s wash
dare one think of paradise?
Elite dancers shun the maypole
Flowers of purple garlands glisten
General’s choir sings ‘Zippity Do Da’
Horrendous world rushes on by.
Iris competes with the roses
Jerry withdraws to the gym
Kilos lost in dramatic confusion
Lemons wasted on the slim.
Many lovers unite with the sunset
Naïve minds survive till dawn
Open mindlessness a sin to bear
People dive into mental torment.
Queues become longer day by day
Routine jobless wait for the left wing
Sublime reasons given to simple men
Tawdry acts of treason work out true.
Under the moonlight old movies
Vice ruled in parliament square
Wellington city gave up its nights
Xavier Hollander was there.
Yes, to absolute freedom
Zero moral fibre now is so low.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
Who by fire
watches the earth burn?
Who believes that matter
is neither created nor destroyed?
Who burns their bridges behind them
after walking across its form?
Who swims the water's edge
treading through its unknown depths?
Who drowns his spirit
in alcohol, drug, and opiods?
Who lives only for today
when tomorrow is on the horizon?
Who still believes in God
after everyone claims to fall away?
If time and life teach us lessons
then why do we never learn?
Who by fire
denies what lay within their grasp?
Who thinks out loud
and wonder who is listening?
His arms around a stranger
awake all through the night
A stranger he thought he knew
He knew he realized less than nothing
awake all through the night
Nothing seemed to flow with sense
Senseless were his emotions
awake all through the night
Emotions bubbling over
Over and over in his head
awake all through the night
His head and heart in shambles
He’d tell the stranger in his bed
She’d have to leave and not come back
And that’s what kept him up all through the night
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
There was a whistling in the windy stops
a rustling of branches and leaves to find
slipping in and out the scattering of raindrops
a cardinal and a bluejay landing in the pine
a screech and click shout on the breeze of time
a foreshadowing of the storm clouded cries.
There were butterflies bees and flies
hovering within the flowers final demise
one more day of summer warm and bright
stretching out in August delight.
The end of seasons approach
as autumn chills slowly encroach
a day escape from the blistering and humid heat
when nothing moves and creatures sleep
the ever-changing world in revolution
bends to the sun and earthly delusions.
A line in a poem must never stray
A word in a line must know its place
For every action we take, we create
We change the order of things
Molecules, atoms, DNA, tones, notes
All connected, like water between ripples
Snow crystals in avalanches
Our hands gesturing in the air
Create movement, small folds in time
All in orbit like the cosmos itself
As gems fill the sky above every smile
As friendship exists without definition
But colours life, world and universe
***
July 6, 2017
Copyright © White Wolf and Darren White
incoherent ramblings
of an emotionally scared
heart that is
hesitant to jump back
into the emotional
deep end
halting encounters
in order to protect
the heart from
further injury
is now were the
line has been drawn
within the sands of
time
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