Short Dike Poems

silently standing
I fight the frustration
the dike crumbles...

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C-larity
H-as
I-solated
N-ight
E-vening
D-ark
U-sing

D-awn
I-n
K-ind
E-arliness

Topic: Poet (Chinedu Dike) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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Finger From Dike

Before having taken your next hike
Can choose which poem you will like;
On you they growed;
Eventually overflowed;
After removing my finger from the dike.

Jim Horn...

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Nothing About Trump

Nothing about Dump Trump did we ever like;
Road us around in circles like he does a bike;
Many has defiled;
Things ran wild,
When his small finger would slide out of dike.

Jim Horn...

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He put his thumb in the dike
 hoping everyone would see
how brave and courageously he saved the day
 but in his lack of guilt
it was he, who hammered the spike
 that would break the dam and make the waves....

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SPIKE
There is nothing to overcome the greatest spike
Sometimes we are just the simple dike
Is there anything they can change to dislike
Let's talk about the worst pike
Tr?n Minh Hi?n Hien Tran Orlando August 20, 2016...

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The torrential rains
Poured into September with a vengeance 
As the black clouds were driven in
By autumn winds,
Giving summer a sudden farewell. 
Crushing my fading petunias
As the leaves along the dike
Were painted all shades of gold
And pushed to the sodden ground....

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And the dike would not hold the tears, ta-da.
So the ink, it runs down, my face, Papa!

And the clouds, oh they burst, with such mad force,
For the lightning does hail from Dad, of course!

It’s the future man feared would be so grim,
and the river does swerve and chases him.

1/8/2018...

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It’s too early to prite woetry.
Let me hay lere in my bed.
I hartied pardy. Woe is me.
Oh, my hounding pead!

My joughts are thumbled. My oh my.
It’s hust so jard to think.
I heel so forrid; why oh why?
Did someone dike my sprink?

Good grief, it’s tuch moo early to awake.
It’s ten a.m for seaven’s hake!

 January 23, 2017...

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you are such a dike
when I see you I go yikes
you are such a man 
you should be holding a beer can
all you wear is a dirty pair of jeans
you are never really clean
you like to look up girls skirts
and also down their shirts
they all make you squirt
your name should be bert
if your looking for romance
with me ... you dont have a chance!...

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Into the funneling drains,
go the lesser drains,
as they flow or seep.

Culverts coalesce,
the rain keeps moving,
the flushed keep swimming
through their own
momentum.

Is there an end to the flowing,
the passing through?

The highest dams,
the longest levee or dike
cannot hold back,
not a single drop
                  of sky or earth....

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Finger in the hole in the dike
Holding back vast volumes
Of raging emotions
Surely to sweep me away
I try some comforting
Favored music from my past
Grab a book
To distract my fear
Linger in the Black Hole
of despair
Reach out to memories
Misty unrealities
Sweet and sour
I pass another hour
Only the peace of sleep
And ultimately death
Will bring craved relief....

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Hans tried this save as a tike -
Episodic finger in the Holland-days dike.
Not afraid to swim.
See-through stranger didn’t spook him.

Friendly Casper scared the boo out of all, 
Spared the scaredy-cats with a window y’all.
They see through the glass magnified fishes.
The aquarium, a dutch treat for all their wishes.

8/30/2021
not for contest

Casper the Friendly Ghost episode: Dutch Treat...

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Girl I just want to drink some Shocktops get drunk while crapping all over
My pants with this old man's broken down bowel howl pissing on time's moon
Stumble through another tune where all the ladies swoon acting like a fool his pool
Thinking that he's cool but he had to be me as she in everybody's glee when your at the
Land of gay prairie ? Nobbin on his mic, bobbin on her dike, twist their tails on a gooey trail....

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Sunday

Long is Sunday, empty streets
a tunnel of silence,
damp pavement, water trickles
into gutters.

Burnt matches, fag butts and
yesterday leave form a rust
brown dike, it bursts and floods
tiny pebbles-

flowers on the window sills
admire sift rain on glass.
A life spent in a pot fear
no weed and see no evil.

A black cat decides not to
cross the road,
a child in yellows wellies
dreams of tomorrow....

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After the flood
cats and cars slipped under the long night,
only to drift backward
as if yesterday still pulled them in.

Old Charley Winslow died
before the flood,
but when the river threw itself
over the dike
he was seen to float out of a lower window.

Lots are gone.
Welcome mats and whistle pigs,
sheds and shingles,
plastic peddle carts.

Lots never made it back to yesterday.
Lots of underwater things....

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Test icles
Female dog
Oral stimulation
Wood
Rectal insert
Bulb of the vestibule
Raccoon
Box
Ipipi
Del dool
Dike
Cigarette
Akkineni
Mouthification
Analingus
Fornication Under Consent of the King
Fudge factory worker
Gay
Ejacu late
Fleshy folds of skin
Handwarmer 
Black person ethnic slur
Pene
Rose thorn puncture
Cono
Strange
Sack
Fecal matter
Promiscuous woman
Pluck
Pecho
Obnoxious person
Faighne
Master Baker...

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The imposing green dumpster stands
Like a Grecian altar, in what
Was supposed to be a driveway
One car beside it and a horde
Of cats walking around.
Every now and again someone
Approaches , not to deposit but
Find his next treasure.
Flocks of old people draw near,
They roam the outskirts of the
Green monster, for something
That’s been tossed… maybe they’ll
Find a new use for it…
A dike sheltering them
From the judging eye of the street....

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The Reverenge Of A Poet

There is not harm in his lines 
but no one can say he's harmless. 
He stabs You in the heart 
He gives You wings to fly 
.. and You are lost 
Your soul pierced with his word 
You are lost 
in his Labyrint of multiple senses, 
hidden menings, comparisons, 
aphorisms, archaisms 
and the metaphors. 
Thou shalt seek.. and ask 
Thou shalt never know.. 
God cursed him 
and this is his reverenge 
to the World.

by Vera Dike...

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My knowledge of The Netherlands
Came from a beloved children's book.
I found the tale quite so charming
I wanted to take a close look
At a land that could spawn a child
As brave and as strong as was  he.
Hans with his finger in the dike
Was a folklore hero to me

And when he won his silver skates,
I was filled with an honest pride.
My book fell apart and  my dream
Of sailing away on the tide.
At home in The United States.
We raise tulips on our estates.


4/26/14...

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This paper is wet./ Allowing the seeds of my words to sprout./ Though silence holds every 
truth,/ our brains have closed off to this sayer of sooth./ Forgetting to remember all things 
tribal./ Let's open our hearts to an archaic revival./ Reviving our insides; giving them life./ 
The facts of this presence cut sharper than a knife./ More solid than a dike,/ and shining 
brighter than the light/ emitted by the sun./ A warm reminder of the fact that WE ARE ALL 
ONE....

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