A RATTLING MOMENT
First, she stared at me.
Then, she just wobbled onward:
Buzzing as she went:-
It is night's first light — evening
The world thinks through my mind
The echoes of a bittersweet day whisper
My ears twitch, my heart pricks
A pressed edge leans forward
Shouldering the offices of the earth
A desire to just surmount the hurdles
Like an infant falls yet learns to walk
The one weary of deferred hope
The other elated 'bout a filled cup
The one broken to a love unrequited, at least lost
The other happy, healed at finding love
Life's but a parody of exhilarations
A gnome ignited by fiery undergoings
The man, an eloquent stammerer
Profiting and lossing to antiquity
Love, life, life and love — there's no life or love without wins
Pa, ma, lad and lass — you have no family without wins
Works, rest, rest from works — there's no rest without wins
Wisdom, wits and will will wither — to live is to first die
With claws like those of a Lioness,
Beaks like those of an Eagle and
Horns like those of a raging Rhino,
All in one entity
He looked helplessly as they
Swooped on him from from all directions
No where to run no where to hide;
With eyes shut, expecting the inevitable
As they pounced on him, he woke up with a
Scream.
Lo!!! It was just another scary dream.!!!!!
probing defences
the bear at the border growls ~
the west stands ready
Written 25th January 2022
a baby hit a rattler with its rattle
the rattler was startled so it rattled
the babe loaded a diaper
and perfumed the pit viper
that's how a babe beat a snake in battle
Life’s moving too fast
house is trashed
Football, cheerleading, band
carpooling all over the land
From here to there and everywhere
look at the roots in my hair
Never get it curled
seems like it’s all a blur
Guess what I overheard
doesn’t matter anyway
I’m in a rush today
Gotta fill the car
tonight’s “Dancing with the Stars”
He’s at the bar
making extra dough
season’s here you know
Did I flip the clothes
Who knows
Need my rainbow and pot of gold
Is that how your story goes?
I can't help but wonder, what am I supposed to wonder about?
Society has put certain rules into play, that I can seem to wrap my mind around.
To think a certain way, to speak a certain way.
And to do this with no question about why we are being controlled every single day.
So, what does the world want me to do now?
How am I supposed to wonder, if I don't know how?
When does the mind control end?
When will the people of this world get too unhinged?
Everyone needs help, but they are unaware that their thoughts are not individual.
Because society makes the mind control seem normal.
All people think the same. Fighting back is useless.
For how are we supposed to fight back if we are clueless?
Thus, the people need to know,
To beat evil, we need to grow.
Unite our minds, together we flourish.
To take down our commanders, means our minds will perish.
This is why the world has to resort to violence...
To bring our minds back to silence.
Once there was a little redhead
Lying on his sweet little bed
Suddenly there was a scratching
Then his teddy he was snatching
Growls, beneath where he was lying
With all his might he was trying,
Desperately trying to be brave
But very soon he'd meet his grave
He cringed and pulled up the covers
Suddenly starting to hover
Violently up, up, up he went
He hit the roof and made a dent
Soon, he hit the floor with a CRASH
He was coughing, lungs full of ash
All he could see were two red eyes
So paralyzed with fear he died
03/02/2020
In a blink of an eye
a whole year can pass by-
and the older I get,
makes for sadder regret.
Each new calendar page
makes me think of my age-
for so quickly each flies
as I say my goodbyes.
Winter turns into spring
great to hear the birds sing.
In haste, summer days call-
then convert into fall.
Why is that, I oft ask?
I'm retired and should bask
in my time stretching out
with a slower phaseout!
But, that isn't the case!
Seems like life is a race-
at once, start of each year
ends with holiday cheer.
Then, before me once more-
with another encore-
next year starts once again!
Still- I'm thankful- AMEN!
March 14, 2020
Meter Used: ta ta YA ta ta YA
A RATTLING RHYME
Hannah McCustopha, married to Mustapha,
Couldn’t stop chattering, just like her dear Mama.
Yat ta ta Ya ta ta, Na ta ta Na ta ta.
That was the cause of Ma’s parting from her papa.
The feminine side of the family McCustopha,
Famous for talking from New York to Omaha.
Tourists came just to hear them from near and from far.
Tra la la Tra la la, Tra la la Tra la la.
Mustapha finally, tired of her repertoire,
Stowed her away in the trunk of a motor car,
With plenty of food and some tea in a samovar,
And paid a cab driver to drop her in Dacca.
There should have been peace evermore for Mustapha.
But, sadly, he hasn’t achieved it so far.
For every night in his dreams he hears Hannah.
Ya ta ta Ya ta ta, Na ta ta Na ta ta
11th March 2020
A Rattling Rhyme contest
Sponsor - Nina Parmenter
Punch to the left, punch to the right,
Hold nothing back, in a boxing match,
Show him no pity, hit him real tight,
One in the tummy, punch to dispatch!
crowds cheering, coach’s swearing,
This is the dream, you worked to win!
radio is blaring, bookies screaming,
Don’t ease your grip, smash his grin!!
His head is bleeding, his eye is black,
Quick on your feet, the bell is gone,
Step to the side, give him no slack,
land him a stunner, you are the Don!
Keep chin up, gloves up to your face,
He is circling around, like King Kong!
Go jump in and punch, four with pace,
He is down, his eyes go ding dong!!
heap on the floor, he takes the count,
You dance around, arms up in the air,
You Ignore pain , with glee dismount,
You are Champ! You won your share!!
Written 04/March/2020
Rattling rhyme contest
Sponsor Nina P
STORM ELECTRIC
Over there
in the hills
There’s a flash
Giving birth
To a sound
Like a pulse
In the veins
of the Earth
Echoing
From the crags
As a drum
Beat ahead
The condemned
On his walk
On the morn
He would dread
Then the fire
in the sky
As it comes
ever close
With a crash
and a roar
Turns a tree
Into toast
When you walk
through a storm
Head held down
Is it dum
To survive
Taking care
Not advice
From a nun?
If you’re one
Who is blest
With a top
Like a dome
Thank your god
That your not
One of those
With a cone
Million volts
Coming down
from the sky
To the ground
Will select
To anoint
Pointed shapes
Never round
Crises come
And they pass
So all storms
Will be still
As the sun
Shall illume
Linen clouds
Wrap the hill
Should we fear
Tempest break
In our world
Bringing strife
Or perhaps
Lift head up
Rather dread
A bland life
4 March 2020
Wasted words
Wasted words
Empty ink
Left alone
Just to think
Once you were
Now you’re not
Seems that most
Have forgot
Time you spent
On their page
Verses read
Center stage
Curtains drawn
Lights are dim
Views are gone
Comments slim
All good things
They must end
Matters not
What you’ve penned
Take your thoughts,
Stanzas too
Go away
That means you
We don’t care
What you write
Any day
Late at night
Poetry
for the birds
Empty ink
Wasted words
3/3/2020
11:43am
A RATTLING RHYME
“Few things are more delightful than grandchildren fighting
over your lap.” – Doug Larson (and I add laptop or tablet)
WHISPER SWEET NULLS
Up the steps. Here them roar -
here they come with big smiles.
These two brothers at odds
in short race to the door.
Their short grandmother tall,
she leans down to give hugs,
but must wait for the bell -
has great ring - what a ball!
Off fly shoes and then socks
And each boy has one thing
on their mind: to be first
to put thumbs to the box.
Other toys left idle.
They’re no match for the fire
of the games that conspire -
That do whisper sweet nulls.
Off they run once again
after filling their tums.
They do tear off their shirts
off to fight - see who reigns.
The old box - it stays cold
for their sight, it is set
on the same old new games
and the ads that are bold.
Their behinds, they are warm
in their grandmother’s chair
and so likely to say
when bell rings, “it’s not fair!”
They are forced to go home.
There are chores; and some odds
and their ends for their school
but no games! That’s not cool.
Once upon a time in the United States,
Came a chap from England, a Sir Master Bates…
For they opened the doors at the guarded gates,
Off to Washington with his great debates…
Too much of a scholar to have any mates,
Always searching the Capital to find some dates…
Thus with a firm upper hand, he associates,
Trying to get relief as he desperately deliberates…
A silent sensitive scholar for he lavishly liquidates,
Within the chamber of commerce as he humiliates…
As he puts a showering show for his delegates,
And therefore cleaning up his act as he masculates
Within the body caucus, he deeply demonstrates,
Like a volcanic eruption, he modestly motivates…
But the lava is lukewarm for his speech emaciates,
Time to retire for the day as the caucus updates.
March.03.2020
A Rattling Rhyme 2
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
N/A for Contest
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