Short Makeshift Poems

Turbo
Diesel Engine
Generation Game
Pipe and Slippers
Readi
Go!...

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parking lot puddles
create makeshift ponds for birds --
a new habitat...

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Winter
blankets the earth
in a makeshift duvet-
as temperatures fall bulbs stir
below....

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winter blankets
the dark earth
makeshift banks
overhang into drifts-
snow falls icy blue...

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makeshift workstation
off the bed
to be by his side



posted on February 28, 2021 (thought I posted earlier)...

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Unforgiving cemented ground
Chaotic yearning echos 'round
Breathing seething sour fume
Hollow icebox makeshift tomb...

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hollow heart
every part
a brittle fragile
scrap of humanity
makeshift soul
breakable exterior
nothing inside 
hollow breakable fool...

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Windswept makeshift shelter
Huddled in dark corners
Where blue-grey spirals beckon

Memories triggered
Jeans fade to blazer and tie
And a JPS cigarette behind the bike sheds....

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Newspaper lining
Old soul's old soles had worn holes
Temporary fix


*Interpretation of Raul's "Still Life" photo.  To me the lining of the shoes looked like old newspaper....

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The pillars of the colloseum 
stand guard over the arena
men to the lions they were led

Their life's blood shed
 on the makeshift floor
as the spectators cheered 
and roared let the games begin...

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Stiff winds blow
Men pull their collars tight 
A hard, chlll drizzle,
   knife-sharp razors,
   piercing makeshift armor

Against a drab background
Smoke-gray clouds sweep the sky
   without making it brighter...

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beneath the oak tree
a sapling withers and dies
shielded from the sun
sheltered from the wicked world
she swings from a makeshift noose...

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I left her in a makeshift hut
Tugging scarecrow ropes
Scaring hundred of birds
Saving pregnant rice stalks.

She was 10 years old
I am now 60 years old
I have a dream last night
I revisited her…

Together
We excavated unforgettable gleeful moments!...

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Potential is
the moulted skin
of a snake in jest—
laced with
the plastic tatters
of an old crow's nest.
A makeshift bulletproof vest.
With a valiant crest.
Worn by a soldier
on a hollow conquest—
to claim broken toys
in a fetid wormy chest.

It means nothing....

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dull
dark
December day-
devastation's depression
descends

makeshift banks
overhang into drifts-
snow falls icy blue


the tiles dusted with snow-
trickle down rivulets
fill the rain butt

long twilight days's of winter shade
bring tomorrow's snowdrops in the glade...

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Out late tossin' the rag.
Turn down Barney Jenkins Road.
Big 'ol square white
house, freshly makeshift
sign in the lawn.
It reads:
SUNDAY SCHOOL 11AM
Ain't that beautiful?
Ain't that how the world
should turn?
Stick a sign on ya lawn
an' let the people come
right on in.
He's probably
a pedophile....

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A deplorable state of vexing conditions,
A hoary head of scrambled positions
Struck with angst in makeshift decisions,
Entangled with Fate I see psychic Visions

You'd think it'd "click" when so often burned,
But beyond my Mind I feel "the pull"
Despite the Truths I've come to learn,
In turn I choose to be a Fool...

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Of all of the ever-makeshift make-up; 
this is our faithful follow up and follow-through 
that makes all of the continuing difference - 
not our individual; indifference. 

I know a person struggling, 
growing as they tend 
to their deliverance 
by showering this 
upon another  
continuing....

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As I add another notch, 
Into my belt of failures.
I did not gain the joy of my heart.

And if I had gained,
Your honest…true love.
I wouldn’t contemplate 
Using that very belt
As a makeshift tourniquet,
Around my pleasant dreams. 

Choking the flow of my tomorrows,
To ease the bleak pain, 
…of not being with you....

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There's a brook that flows along side
between the yard & the foot of the mountain
our home stood next to the street

We caught fish on a makeshift bridge
played outside ‘til the lightning bugs flickered
joined together for a home cooked meal

These memories are all that is left
we moved from there, so long ago
my childhood home is no more...

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Stone Soldiers



Another fallen soldier dies,
fighting a war on some far away front.
Another graveside makeshift goodbye,
straight back into the man hunt...

A husband, father, son, and friend,
is how his stone grave marker reads.
The etch-a-sketch of unplanned death,
infinite losses dying for other men's greed.



bmdavey@
02/21/16...

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Married to a number,
Set aside for posterity.

Marked and laid out in an open grave,
In everlasting humility.

Look and behold as I grow into the earth,
I never asked for and do not want any pity.

Young life, hope, tortured death ,
And yet, I welcomed it all with untaught piety.

I lie in unmarked graves around the deadened land,
I am sorry I never said goodbye....

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I was witness to poetry in motion
amidst all the world’s chaos and humdrum

As the sun lazily rose from its eastern bowers
this bare backed man presented quite a picture

He gracefully lowered his oar with a soft swish
moving slowly looking for fish

Rowed his makeshift boat on scooter tyres
the lone kayaker on lake waters.



for Backwards poem contest by Matt Caliri...

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Baggage within 
      trappings of illusions,
love packed away
  in neat little compartments
gathering cobwebs at
     makeshift improvisations, 
dusting intermittently
      if by chance a light
           should shine,
never wholly untangling 
    the snare
mid a labyrinth of
      transparent entrapment,  
as violin strings continue
      to unlatch the same old key...

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Adrift in this vast,
empty sea. Silent,
save for the beckoning call
of  distant gulls,
your only friend. And 
the makeshift mast and sail is
uselessly flaccid.

And beneath,
concealed
by the dangling sway, 
of muddy-
moss-green ribbons of waving kelp,
is the dark murk
of unknown depths.

Then the wind 
panics,
arousing your sail and
it swells into life
and draws you towards home....

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