Short Incur Poems

You are sliding a slippery slope
I tell my darling prince
He shudders, not knowing what he has done
to incur my wrath
I am not about to tell him either
The guessing is what keeps him on his toes
and possibly keeps him solicitous 
keeping the marriage alive....

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Charming companion,
Must I stir...
These are the days that will incur-
Memories that will reflect,
Time once lost-
We must respect.
To learn from this and
Do our best-
Prevents regret so
Predigest...
We stand with experience from our past;
Hence these are the days to make last....

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My new dryer 
is defective.
I told the supplier
and a detective.

Socks go in, 
but not all come out.
Lint comes out,
no doubt.

What could it mean -
as socks unseen,
and lint, to a percent,
are equivalent?

As clothes toss, 
I incur loss - 
a hot air curse
'til I put it in reverse....

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I will always resolve to outrun the next crisis. 

I will sometimes incur trauma out of desperation. 

I will never allow my essence to be separated even as my consciousness splits. 

I will forever be in limbo in my quest to independence. 

I will one day stop trying to be a martyr-

As if my sacrifice will lead to a cure....

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Ivory-clad finger carves a path;
signs of neglect incur her wrath.
Minuscule motes swirl aloft;
lungs are clogged as hands waft.
Blanket covers all
on floor and wall.
Was just fine,
this shrine:
mine.

------------------------------------------

March 2017

For the "Dust" contest sponsored by Shadow Hamilton - Ninth Place....

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Despair aught I care, in distraught 
adhere I thought. 
I fear unsure in revere, insecure of 
love immature. 
Unfair sincere demure, disdain severe 
I incur pain.
Allure in dire devour, deplore I cower 
pure desire. 
Bizarre amour to perish amiss, ignore I 
defer jealous affixed.
Temerity in moral of boredom, surety a quarrel of 
Vulnerable Decorum....

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Mornings requisite, not intent
nor fool's embellishment
file their extent!

The meaning's purpose is my rent
my Godsend ~ my content,
the herald of my calling, from God sent!

Nor tithing's hold, the need's incur,
my break for time ~ lies like a slur
until the vestige, now impure ~

My hands recycle ~  merit stir . . .
Invent, Invent ~ the broadcast is the cure,
I am the willing donor ~ driving spur!...

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Desperate, I ponder on your death,
scant breath expended twixt the two of us,
and loneliness an ache too harsh to mention.
With pen in hand and no one to subscribe,
I'll never know the softness of your skin,
or search your heart to find what lies within.
Should I be bold, or take a gentler path?
Encourage you... would I incur your wrath?
If you should die I'd never know your truth,
and I would lose the vigour of my youth....

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When there is a torrential rain,
A puddle starts to form
And quickly turns into a lake,
Which shouldn’t be the norm.

Okay, I do exaggerate – 
It’s closer to a pond,
Yet it’s too deep to wade through
If you want to get beyond.

This giant puddle (mini-pond)
Is on my walking path
And though I shouldn’t be surprised,
It does incur my wrath.

So I must then retrace my steps
And go a different way,
Which is exactly what I did
When on my walk today.
...

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The gloss of Great Things of allure 
A young heart continues to lure 
But poor efforts bar through failure, 
Hardworking farmers no manure,
Not a lot of The Tried secure;	
From them distanced fertilizer 
Otherwise The Stabilizer…	

The grandeur of Things of Allure 
Makes one unpleasant risks incur,
Cries of “Oh! my God!” reoccur,
One is some leg bitten by a cur 
One: a freezing body, no fur!
Yes: pearl, ruby, emerald, gold:
All that we gaze at Hands unfold....

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Take a deep breath
Look inside life and
Wish yourself well
When facing life tribulations
Death is nothing but death is certain
Life can be simple or rigid 
Nothing worth living for, but
We can't incur to loose what we've lived for
The cloud which rise with thunder,
Slake our thirsty souls with rain. 
Don't be out of mind when you are out of sight  
Your fear will only continue to fear you, 
Only If you don't face it
God is the creator of wealth. 
All is well!...

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A meter maid I’ve never been
But Deb’s convinced me I have sinned
So now I write this verse for her
With hopes her wrath I won’t incur

“Defrost” is said as de’ frost here
The South is different, it’s so clear
Sur-re’-al sometimes sounds sur-eel’
But what means more is how I feel

About a poem and what it says
If written by a serf or prez
My meter’s time is running out
This WAS a strain, beyond a doubt


*LOL :)  Entry for the Meter Contest
Iambic Pentameter...

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I'll paint your sweet portrait with tightly shut eyes
With pleasure whenever you ask.
Though hands ever shaking and colder than ice
Do find it a difficult task.

I'll cherish the portrait and hang it above
My empty not warm enough bed
To guard all the secrets of mystery love
And clear the mess in my head.

The mirror that's placed on the opposite wall
Will certainly add to its charm,
My room and your portrait will turn to one whole -
This place will incur no more harm....

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