Short Lairs Poems

Frog on the high bike was putting on airs
Low-bike frog ignored it, his name was Lairs
Others said “isn’t he a bit too uppity for you?”
“not really,” says Lairs, “and this bike is built for two.”...

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  Brazen acts, once under cover of night
    trust now ransacked in broad daylight

  Rape, armed robbery, carjackings
    released from murky lairs on alien wings

  Our beliefs torn asunder, the world upside down
    no foot traffic seen in our part of town...

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I am the ear peiece device
They attach when your hearing fails
I am both the coffin and the nails
Your scary bed time tales
Of night stars and prison bars
I am the bug that lairs inside your head
Scaring you from going to bed
I am you
And I am what you tell me
Because you drive me...

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On the day of the dads
we all woke up at the same time,
crawling out of our lairs,
holding our morning root beers.
We saw circles where we wanted triangles.
We could feel the push of time against our faces.
This poem was suppose to be happy.
Where's the remote?
I can't find the remote....

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Two parts worth a share
Two shares, without a care
Two cares, feelings laid bare
Two bears, load lighter fare
Two fares, frugality must pair
Two pairs, progeny in lair
Two lairs, income to spare
Two spares, equity to declare
Two declares, faithful in prayer
Two prayers, escape temptation's snare...

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Hearing the sound of distant bagpipes
Thrills my soul of souls
Tingles flow around my head
My neck feels cold exposed
The call awakes attention gone
Sa lang  sa lang ago
A foggy mist of temper lairs
Ancestral juices flow
Don’t mess wi me
I’m still sa free as e’er  can be
This life  t’be enjoyed the more
This far in flow from Innisfree 
And cold Culloden moor...

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Ha, she is beautiful
Lascivious when smiles
Innocent but beguiles,
Her charm in bountiful
oozing over brimful--
Purity imbues wiles;

Likewise a Rose’s blessed--
An enticing fragrance
An elegant presence
But with thorns slyly dressed
making someone obsessed,
Lovelorn with its essence;

Tread in their lairs with care
Oh, traits common they share!


Hexsonetta contest by Andrea Dietrich...

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The puma is so sleek and black
I have no doubt he’d break my back
And carry me off to feed his cubs
They would love my fat and chubs.

The puma would come in the night
And grab my neck and hold me tight
I would lose my life but who cares?
I would get to see his puma lairs.

The puma’s eyes would be so green.
In the woods, he’d not be seen.
He’d grab me up so amazingly fast.
I would not very quickly last....

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When that memory comes back to haunt you,
Recall what humble beginnings it shares
It returns what started inside, long ago,
Your vast storehouse of experience, ‘tis true,
Though you might not recall its slumbering lairs
So low.

Consider what deep thoughts repose inside
For years hidden, ever festering, who cares,
Until your mind can no longer hold them in, so …
Hurls them into your consciousness; never died,  
Let go!...

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she is alabaster and brine
she is a faster lairs line
unwind her spooled mind
memory a keepsake in hand conquers a trinket lost
eat mandrake to the root but what the cost
unspoiled her thoughts broil in her head
steam from every seam
salty her groin but she declines the offered coin
she will reap the bliss of your salty kiss
as you bite her short hair she will sing a country tune so fair
she is alabaster and brine
a master of wasted time...

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is it just a four letter word 
or is it just sumthing that should always be heard
day after day I hear it 
people who don't mean it should just zip it

lairs,liars they all are 
when you hear them you should go afar
love is not always meant to be heard
why,because it is just a four letter word

love hurts,it can leave you stucked in the dirt
down,down deep below
nothing to see,nothing to show
life goes on when love is knocking at the door...

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if I could tell you what i did not see
i certainly would

poets are great lairs
i would dress up a fabrication.
wheel in a yellow moon
paint a romance or two

i would
speak at length of things
i know so little about
but i must be elsewhere today
and if i told you
of all the things I will not see
while doing my elsewhere things
well
that would indeed
be such a lovely lie

you might even wish
you could fib and whopper
that well
also...

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Someone decorated the woods with lanterns and stuff
The little girl was gingerly walking through, sure enough
Was it a witch, a warlock, a brownie, a troll or an elf?
An owl hooted high up on an oak tree’s branch shelf.

It’s a bit spooky, said the goblin, who was prancing beside.
I am frightened! Said the ghoul, who had attempted to hide.
Be brave said the girl, there is someone here who clearly cares.
She loved waiting to find out it was, as they walked by some lairs....

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The homes displayed in magazines
Are opulent or spare.
In either case, it’s hard to picture
Ever living there.

The lavish and extravagant
To me are too ornate.
With all that chintz, brocade and toile,
I think I’d suffocate.

And as for “modern” rooms, they seem
Too empty, bare and bleak;
While some are soothed by all that space,
It’s not a style I’d seek.

So let the rich spend money
On their million dollar lairs.
My digs would not appeal to them
But nor, to me, do theirs!...

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