Short Assessing Poems

His lips pressed on mine,
assessing me with his tongue- 
Truly obtrusive....

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attentive angels 
anticipate anger
always allowing
astral attention
assessing and annihilating
absessed anger
as an angel’s 
absolute agenda....

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GUILTY

HE COULDN’T DECIDE ON A WINNER
COOL EXPERT OR NERVOUS BEGINNER
SO FIDDLED HIS BEADS
ASSESSING THEIR NEEDS
DECIDED THAT SHE WAS THE SINNER


John G. Lawless
3/6/2016...

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It emerges like thunder
Without the noise
It formulates like snow
Without the coldness
Assessing itself

It sings like a bird
Without the notes
It proceed like a lady
Without the heels
Laying the foundation

It overwhelms like warmth
Without the blanket
It emphasis like the clicks
Without the tongue
The touch is felt...

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Assessing wealth above

Almighty’s acclaimed glow

Awesome wondrous study

Appreciation with bliss

Arrayed firmament*

Assuring heaven’s hope

Amidst bright faith ascent.

*Psalm 150:1 Praise ye the LORD. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power.

October 7, 2020...

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A gecko who represents GEICO
My fame sure continues to grow
     And because I am cute
     I have money to boot
Who’d guess I’d been raised in a ghetto

Insurance I’m in, so let’s begin
Assessing your worth, to your chagrin
     No policy covers
     That place where you hover
Think we insure bats? You’re mistaken!



*NOT a contest entry...

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In the manner of a teacher, particularly so as to treat someone in a patronizing way. a stage of romantic and/or sexual relationships in humans whereby two or more people meet socially, possibly as friends or with the aim of each assessing the other's suitability as a partner in a more committed intimate relationship or marriage or the other meanings. the moral of this story is....

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Hundreds of snowdrops
Flowering under old trees
Cold horses awaiting 
Their food to be brought
Paint-flaking windows 
Reflecting thin sunlight
Large piles of wood chopped
To warm up the freeze
Cows at the farm-gate
With milk-swollen udders
Birdsong awakening 
An old hive of bees
Arthritic limbs crackle
The old cat’s awake now 
One eye open
A paw stretched
Assessing the scene...

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Oh gaseous anomaly, of my digestion 
Escapage from where, is the question
A topic of much fun, hilarity and jest
School boys compete, to see who's is best.
Velocity, decibels, and length of time.
All vital in assessing, if it's sublime.
But pinnacle of fustiness has to be.
Sprout, egg sarnies and over ripe brie 
In conclusion a fart is truly an art
Enjoy it, embrace it, have a good fart....

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The storm has passed and gone
A weary sun descends
As soothing peace settles
Over a troubled sea
A priestess assessing 
From her lofty tower
Conjuring mighty strength
For the journey ahead
Probing destiny’s face
Staring her in the eye


AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on February 21, 2019 for contest LATE FEB 2019 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  RANKED 1ST

Originally posted on March 21, 2018...

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and so it begins…

I lay here dormant
playing possum
peeking warily
and wearily
beneath the rotted leaves
of Autumn’s glory
testing the air
with a daring shoot
telescopically assessing
the tenor of the wind.

Oh, how I long for her
time’s temptress
warm breath
tantalizing my need
beckoning me
come forth my darling
all is well.

©2/7/2019

And So It Begins Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier - sponsor...

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Swollen knees bring
fears of blocked tubes -- 
harbingers of destruction,
cold limbs, looming amputations.

Swollen knees bring
alternate explanations for pain –
cysts maybe? fears subside.
maybe just an infection…

Swollen knees bring
reminders of aging frames.
age-related deterioration,
speaks of a well-ripened life.

Swollen knees bring
streams of gratitude for
the many things knees can do.
joints of thanksgiving breaking through…...

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Every night before I sleep, 
I ask myself if what’s wrong with me?
I’m not ugly, but I know I am pretty,
I’m not sexy, but I have a body,
What’s wrong with me?...

Assessing myself in front of the mirror,
Asking myself, am I bad or good?
Knowing I don’t mind what others do,
So I’ll be out of the scene if they blew…

I know I am better off alone,
But I still want someone to go along,
What’s wrong with me?...
The same question I’m asking under this sad  tree…...

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Daddy always kneeled--
but it was Momma who prayed,
as he spread lips that couldn't dissent,
no matter how much they trembled.

She was always naked for him
bleeding babies upon the floor,
while he explored their cradle,
fingering walls absently--
assessing her foundation;

Momma prayed for simple things,
blankets and frigidity--
anything to create separation;

Where naked wouldn't matter
under the cloak of autonomy
and the only grasping thoughts--
would be her own....

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Everything’s been said before;
The goal’s to find a way
To tailor those familiar thoughts
To fit beneath your sway.

You choose a pattern and a swatch
Of fabric that appeals,
Then cut and stitch until, at last,
Your feelings it reveals.

Along the way, you change a word
Or rearrange a phrase,
Then try it on, assessing with
A slightly biased gaze.

When done, you snip the final thread
And put it on display,
Content to know you’ve said exactly
What you meant to say.
...

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MY CONSCIENCE

It troubles me more than occasionally 
It affects me deeply
I feel strongly
I love deeply
I think always of how I affect 
The people around me 
It tires me 
Frequent assessments of my actions
Lumbers me 
Slowing me down
Constraining me 
Making me think before I act 
I fence sit a lot 
The law of unintended consequences
Causes me not to rush 
I pander and question everything
My mind acts as a sentry
Assessing all of my actions
Guiding and controlling me
I don’t feel free...

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I can feel its gaze on me
those eyes full of blood lust
cold, calulating
assessing every inch of me 
but I dont know why?
its always there
whispering in my ear
so convincing I somtimes forget myself
sometimes screaming at me
calling me a failure
worthless
pathetic
then there's me, the real me 
not that moster
not that vile creature
no this one reminds me 
of the hope I see
that I am not alone and never was
that I am worth it
but...
somtimes its hard to hear me, the real me...

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