Brisk breezes spin around and around
lifting dust devils high off the ground.
And children wearing happy faces
rush to find their favorite places.
Clara the clown runs out to applause
with dogs pulling kittens in rickshaws.
And as rolling waves of laughs begin
she spots Jim, noting which seat he’s in.
As the crowd cheers the rodeo show
a cowboy works his grip, set to go.
Yet the bull he’s on is too headstrong
and Clara can tell something is wrong.
The bull bucks, and as she runs out there
the cowboy is flung into the air.
And tons of muscle shift in a blur
sparing the young man, death charges her.
She falls down and the bull goes insane
as Jim rushes to her screams of pain.
And lamenting the death of his love
he holds her head cursing God above.
Listing her death as unsavory
she is cited for her bravery.
And filled with grief they supported Jim
for the whole town felt sorry for him.
(Rhyme)
June 5, 2018
Categories:
rickshaws, 8th grade, angst, anxiety,
Form: Rhyme
Profile picture painted to please Jennifer Lopez
Smiles for miles to the dynamite of Taio Cruz
Sights, heights and flights into serene skies
Bereft of dour dues, hostile hues, cantankerous queues and bludgeon blues.
Laughter in a merry matter to flatter Nicky Minaj
No grenade on a serenade to degrade a flight to Bruno Mars
Urge age to assuage a morose message
Conveyed in hearts perambulating in rickshaws and cars.
African Queen croons tender tunes for Two Baba
Heartbeats, sweets and tweets when love takes over David Guetta and Kelly Rowland
While for miles piles of styles revile rattle sabre
As Cupid cousins celebrate in a style grand in a gregarious gland.
Ouch! Message hits bull’s eye with a cry…No more Cleopatra, Romeo and Juliet
Venomous viper vanquishes vaunted friendship
Torrents of tears dent Eden events. No more merriment to fete
Julie stolen in July, Julie flown Heavenwards in a shrouded ship.
Categories:
rickshaws, poems,
Form: Free verse
They chew gums in compacted face,
Cheek-bones lining made-up skin;
They belong to the golden race,
Of foaming coke and shriveled gin.
They stare at you like you were a slave,
All through your seven lives;
They do know how to behave,
But only with middle fingers five.
Rags cheap, faking overprice,
Skirts shorter than a Chekhov story;
They believe their tangled hair to be nice,
But blush at selfish flattery.
They have lips that throw sarcasm,
At their own starving selves;
They fall for their own dark chasms,
In deep thoughts when their brains delve.
The only knowledge they possess,
Is of others’ destination;
The only wisdom they impress,
Is of disconnected imagination.
I wonder how they ever pass,
In their examinations upstart;
They think their shoes are class,
But it’s their gray cells that’re apart.
Posing their hands as if they were fractured,
They proudly exhibit their flaws;
Girls with majestic gestures,
Usually come in cycle-rickshaws.
-Pin Dew (02/05/2017)
Note: This is only to show how a Burlesque is written, no offense to anybody. Also excuse if anything seems inappropriate. I ask for forgiveness beforehand.
Categories:
rickshaws, character, funny, girl, hilarious,
Form: Burlesque
we are up
beyond time
and space
dark caves of
wood and stones
merging into sleep
in the infant night
when they are drinking
dancing and seducing
surfacing on dreams
of dogs cows and rickshaws
of the land of ruined
temples
we need to go soon
Categories:
rickshaws, allegory,
Form: I do not know?
Limerick: Once a bold billionaire from Ma-Lays-She-Ah
Once a bold billionaire from Ma-Lays-She-Ah*
Bought up politicos to militia
They put his money to work
Called him a right proper jerk
Now he pulls rickshaws barefoot in absentia.
• Read also as: “Ma-Lays-He-Ah”
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Categories:
rickshaws, humorous, satire,
Form: Limerick
Inclement weather stalk the horse riders,
Unprotected they move with the street traffic,
While the stormy clouds play in the backdrop,
Teasing the cycle rickshaws and the tram cars;
A touch of adventure in body move,
Seek yellow metal trail to the valley,
Wish to camp on river beds panning sand,
In the gold rush with pure lust for quick wealth;
Followed by the outlawed treasure seekers,
Living of the land in their killer’s joy,
Gun trotting masqueraders on cold tracks,
Heat up the riches race for a lion’s share.
Categories:
rickshaws, life
Form: Free verse