Short Bowler Poems

You played Judy Teen,
became our Top of the Pops,
strumming Spanish strings
in that epic bowler hat,
somehow breaking every code.

...

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Renee Magritte,an enigma in a bowler hat
I wonder what we should make of thst
perhaps they are his alter ego
he never said so we'll never know...

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The poetry priestess Dawood 
Donned her Bowler ,as only she could .
But a bad Irish breeze
Jellied her knees .
Still her squiggly scarf wrapped her  GOOD !!!!...

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Pinkie's ova dried up in summer.
Her sackcloths made beach days a bummer,
till she caught a sperm whale—
an Aussie bowler, "Gale"—
who had spun her like a newcomer....

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 The Room Drains... 

The room drains to sepia.
A long distant relative
     in a bowler hat,
smoking a pipe;
     strokes your dog.
The one
on the couch....

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Art monger

 Art monger appearance,
 A displayed suit, a tie and a Bowler hat,
 Needn't for a longer rope;
 Tied tie to a pole,
 Like Grandma marauding goat,
 Wondering like 'esiewu,' of gathering muse
 Who is to be slaughter next?
 A frightful goat fall to the ground throwing tantrum,
 Tie squeezed tighter in bandit suit
 Knocked together with thousand sack....

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Bowling is what I do during Spring time
And swim hundred feet touching the sea floor
Flexing like a gymnast, swing overtime
Holding my breath, a bowler underscore
Bowls of clear blue waters I play for more
Bowling pins like needles for life I strike
Bowling and swimming, sports for life I like


Don't swim too deep without an oxygen tank...
Life is precious to keep as waters know no rank!

(Prosebite)...

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There’s a hungry tabby cat on a very fluffy mat
And a tiny little mouse in the self same house
Well he’s hiding from the cat underneath a bowler hat
So he’s got a lot of nous… he’s a clever little mouse

It’s a made-for-humans hat so it’s too big for a cat
Even bigger for the mouse who had brought it to this house
It’s a little odd is that; he’s a mouse in a hat
But it’s better to be that… than a mouse in a cat...

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the subtle union in the knot,
used by sailors since time forgot,
a bowler knot, says my dad, says he,
bowline thinks me all at sea,
the no slip knot,  tied horse, he got,
and still gets tied by me.

dinna choke the horse you see...
If a horse pulled back in fright,
he got strangled by a rope, did he,
knot that slipped, death could follow...
too bloody right...

"forget the knots" thanks Joe Maverick
Don Johnson...

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Dear Vilas,

Now a magical mason
Proudly by profession
My school captain
With tremendous mannerism
Used to mimic my math teacher
Very close to all 
Had a way with all 
No drama was ever made
Without Vilas and Sajid I bade..!

Dear Lakshman Waghade,

We used to fight always
For the reasons just daze
Later became very close
Missing each in all phase
Clever student being Lakshman
Used to prove a good bowler…!!...

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Food thats good i beleive you'll find? raw milk
Not the usual, therm-ed out kind.
Link up with farmers, you can volunteer!!
Supply some spirit, spread more cheer
The bowler hatted farmer knows'  his
Onions along with dear old Vobes' 
And Brooks no nonsense Chris is in.'
That people power is starting to spin.!
A couple of million will do for starters 
You can now show the world..
Who are? the real'
Useless farters.)...

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Any bowler will achieve notoriety and fame
if he or she bowls a perfect three hundred game.
To be a certified hero or heroine of the day,
achieve that feat during tournament play.
It takes a great deal of concentration,
and you must have solid determination.
Just take the ball and let it go.
You need twelve consecutive strikes in a row.
Everyone agrees that is not easy to do.
If you ever bowled one, then good for you!
...

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What kind of rainbow fish would you like to have for dinner?
I do not like fish, I told grandma.
I did not ask if you like them. 
Do you have a preference how they are served?

I do not want any of them. They are all horrible.
This one is wonderful, she assured me.
When he knocked on the door at eight 
I was impressed with his bowler hat and his rainbow fins.

What is your gorgeous grandma fixing us? He asked.
I had a feeling it was not going to be fish....

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Felix was angry I could not blame the cat for that
                   Mr.Schrödinger should have opted for a bowler hat
                                    His experiment was a chiller
                                    Prussic acid was  a sly killer
                     Felix could not endure the cheekiest quantum rat










                       Felix was angry © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
                                         13 November, 2014...

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Pedaling along river drive
empty plastic grocery bags
fluttered and flapped from tree branches
like lost battle surrender flags
that line the drought-stricken river.
Their interspersed clings reminded
me of inundated levels
this now anemic river reached;
where once the floodwaters surged south
along its journey to the sea
its now imperceptive flow
struggles, its intimate's exposed:
river-bottom, water-worn rocks
sit like petrified bowler hats....

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Old country house rich colored rugs hot wind
Gallopping hair whipped wildly at his cheeks
Solid double doors  top of stairway  top coat
Mantlepiece  photographs  in ornate frames 
Small  white  dog  head  between  its  paws
China  tea perfect lawn afternoon ceremony
Bowler hat  spirited distinguished  manner 
Smile of  welcome, something  in  his eyes
She trusted his good manners + hospitality
Embraced  the shadowy play of candlelight
Scent of peppermint musk vanilla surprise!...

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Bottle smooth pond
Azure blue with the sky
About to awake
As i pass by
 
A small stone i lift
As i raise my arm
Bottle smooth pond
Soon to loose its charm
 
With the grace of a bowler
Overarm
I release my stone
In the pond like tarn
 
Surface shaken as my stone hits
Displacement of water
Physical shift
Energy follows with an outward tide
Gravity to liquid collide
 
I stood there for ages
Watch the energies respond
From the hurl of a stone
To the
Ripples on the Pond...

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She was a force to be admired and feared at the bowling alley
We stood back and watched, shocked by the ways of Mallie.
She stood up straight and tall as she walked to the line
Her strikes were amazing, her repeated spares were fine

Who taught her to bowl? We asked each other
Was it her grandpa, her father? Her cousin? Her brother?
It was another woman, said her grandma. It was her mother.
Another fine bowler, who arrived in a few.
Now we could watch not one amazing woman, but two....

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