Has anyone seen my mojo? I know I had it here
But lately it has gone astray, no longer lurking near.
Maybe it’s on secondment to another more in need
to be asked would have been nice though,then we could have all agreed.
My ‘get up and go’ has scarpered,
it has done a midnight flit,
If you see it send it back before
I lose the will, and quit.
I know it’s round here somewhere,
maybe I can lure it out?
I need to wake my brain up,
need to holler, twist and shout!
My mojo is essential!
It’s what drives me to aspire
I need to get it back
before my brain starts to expire.
I know it’s not gone fully,
it’s just hiding in my fear,
So if I coax it gently
maybe it will reappear.
So summoning all my power
to locate the missing zing,
Digging deep within me
makes my mojo start to sing.
Been screeched
heap
things
demoness
strumpet
scoundrel
with
wings
thumped
lizard
of
myth
legend
since
intonates
Darkness
scarpered
whilst
famished
soul
prominent
&
sharp-witted
by
prurient
screams
not for
shadows
but
untamed
spawn
sighs
Written: April 26, 2023
A Brian Strand Standard No 1212 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
NOTE::THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' (intuitive cadence)& so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
The sage sits in a denuded forest where ‘green’ foliage once towered
Knots a ‘thread’ of his hair through the eye of the parched pine needle
Of his ‘heart’ that shivers in the ashen lightness of smouldering fires
‘Breathless’ he collects ember before rain sets out to seek its revenge
Lone ‘birds’ shed feathers of dry tears embedded in scorched plumage
‘Fathomless’ they refuse to embrace naked exposure of truthfulness
‘Silence’ grows as they fail to flap wings in futile departure from rage
A ‘beautiful’ landscape has scarpered escape routes barely conceived
One de-rooted ‘hair’ stands out from the skull bone of human inferno
‘Dark’ like lost causes it delivers a savage message to the blinded savant
21st February 2020
Ten word challenge on the theme of death
thread heart silence hair beautiful
dark green birds fathomless breathless
Smiling sun scarpered, sad stormy sky,
from east to west a veil of charcoal grey,
we watched as flocks of nervous birds flew by,
bird feeders idle, clients stayed away.
The cat, now bored with toys, and time to kill,
ears twitching, on alert surveyed the gloom
and turned to climb down from the windowsill
when heaven sparked, and lightning bleached the room.
Fur stood on end, eyes lit up like twin suns,
unsure what she had seen or what to do,
a second flash clinched it- to cut and run,
split-second silhouette shot out of view.
The predator had now become the prey,
creature and elemental paths had crossed,
for one who thought she had things all her way
now shown by angry sky who is the boss.
Like skipping ropes above the distant trees
the lightning danced, then began to fade
wet leaves all now consoled by gentle breeze
and rooftops washed in ever lighter shades.
She sauntered out like nothing had occurred,
sat on the sill and thought “Now, where's those birds?”
For contest 'Describe a Thunder storm without sense of sound', sponsor Brenda Chiri
25th February 2018
I found MESHELL lying on the sand
With a ROSIE glow on her skin
She wanted it to turn OLIVE brown
But she looked like a roasted chicken!
We wandered into the JADE WALTER
EnJOYed a swim and a long paddle
Then went to find her beach towel
Where an eNORMAs man was straddled
You’re taking the MICKEY I told him
Give MESHELL back her beach towel
He said don’t be so picky … he was quite CURT
I’ll HARRY on back to my fowl
He lived locally with his maiden ANT
And he scarpered back home to his GLEN
If he’d touched MESHELL I would DEC him
I can’t abide RANDY predatory old men!
I’d seen him on his TODD at the Karaoke club
He was very ANDY behind the MIKE
Wearing ripped GENES and RAY bans
He’d BOB around then go home on his bike
Contest What’s in a Name
Sponsored by Viv Wigley
11~11~16
Names used...Meshell*, Rosie, Olive, Jade, Walter*, Joy*, Norma*, Mickey, Harry*, Curt, Ant, Glen, Dec, Randy, Todd, Andy, Mike, Gene*, Ray, Bob.
* poetic licence used with these names
It’s spring, show me the green,
no not the flowers and trees, but
the turf of the sacred bowling
green:
where the smell of wood and leather,
the jack no heavier than heather,
clicks its chattered, woody song,
to sparrows’ scarpered throng
let me taste and smell your sweet
ground’s mighty swell, as it’s pitch
and rise mirrors, beauty of the dell
and with this Spring’s weighty call
a million miles from nature’s fall,
comes the season of our glee,
friendship’s spine, and bowls
so free
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