Short Oiled Poems

oiled cast iron black
preheating pan in oven —
weevils in cornmeal

10/13/2020...

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Why are my wings oiled
The carelessness of BP
Cannot be undone

Man's quest for black gold
Destroys the sea I once soared
My flock endangered...

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S-imple
A-nd
N-oble
T-eacher
I-n
A-lmighty
G-od's
O-ne

O-rganized
R-eligion
T-oiled
I-n
Z-ealousness

Topic: Death (July 25,2019) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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Rusted, but well oiled and continuously in use, heaven’s gate. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 				
Contest: One, One Liner
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Placed 2nd
© 9th November 2016...

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There once was a sleek silvery sardine
Who dreamed of marrying a svelte eel queen
With his heart ever lurching,
Swimming through seaweed searching
In an olive oiled tin, he was last seen.
...

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Seagulls saunter the shoreline, nipping at scraps of dead fish

     Hunters and gatherers will soon have more than a bellyful

          Gils choked by the black tar and oiled wings await Gulf sea life...

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We spoke in images
Our hands our mouth pieces
Oiled by plum brandy 
And the certainty
That what I said
You understood,
Or wanted to
Which is all that you have to do
To make an outsider feel welcome....

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Ladies lounged in his light,
fanning the flames of overheated desires.
He, the slick poser, the bad bronco
oiled his parts while he cantered past them,
whipping his buttocks
in a most convincing manner....

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A hospital “Waiting Room” is an uproarious scene
I understand the pressures of the daily routine
With the number of patients
With all sorts of ailments
It's amazing that hospitals are such well-oiled machines...

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dissecting the virtues
of the green sea
we lie entwined
in
the scorching sun
melaninising oiled
in the yellow sand
upside down
arguing crying
laughing and
meditating
reuniting
the sun was
circling around
the earth
then...

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There once was a wrestler called Patrice
Who gobbled food till he was obese;
Though round and full his tummy
He overate pork yummy-
And beat rivals licking their oiled grease.


Bawdy Limerick Contest , Tania Kitchin
30 Dec 2018...

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Tomorrow is another day
Miss Scarlet taught me that.

So on my pillow head will lay
in arch of back my cat.

My 'coutrements are washed and ironed
so I can hit snooze twice.

My cylinders are justly oiled
think I'll sleep well, that's nice....

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two cinquains, one reversed



accord
harmonious
like a barbershop choir
each singing alone, together
sweet sound

aligned
synchronized with the same pow’r Source
like a well-oiled machine
all parts on task
in sync

...

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He works like a well-oiled machine
But only when filled with caffeine
No power within

The caffeine is just a smoke screen
He won’t even stop for cuisine
So he’s string-bean thin



Entry for Black-Eyed Susan’s Tail Rhyme contest.  Written April 23, 2012....

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wrench in a 
well oiled machine
whenever someone 
enters into this environment 
unaware of the way in which 
things work around here 
causing a malfunction within 
the gears causing a break down 
of the mechanism that cause the 
engine to work properly...

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Blended spices mixed and
      boiled with chicken and rice, 
Best with mutton or prawns, 
      but tastes good even with
basic fresh vegetables! 
      Blast of flavoured richness! 
Bewitching special treat!...

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Thermite skies burning through the storm
Hapless waves contort their form
Every whisper cottoned with a foaming roar

Shoreline beaten and eroded
Tryst becomes a love affair
Oiled dabs and daubs
Rinsed highlights splattered with death blacks
Mesmerised by storms eye quiet lack...

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The Blue Jay's call wheels from his throat
like an un-oiled clothesline 
psychotic in the frozen air

he lands his leathery feet amongst
the scattering of assorted birds and seeds
bouncing like shrapnel around the feeder

and until the cat comes
he is king of the morning buffet...

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time opens her delicate 
wings transporting
us from the
incessant
fury
of the shattering waves
blades of tiny green grass
caress
bending rays of gloom
words of silence
destroying the eloquence
coos  of babbling 
infants
gliding fishes drink
from the oiled ocean
and perish...

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Watching from my alabaster face
sometimes hands will wipe my face
every second counts my days
My forlorn voice
always met with grunted dismay
Watch you cower
as i strip your time
once oiled
now choked
by skin and dust
counting minute minutes
ours are the hours
some
time
sometime...

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Oiled and polished tack
golden coat, white mane
16 hands of raw energy
freshly groomed
chomping at the bit
snorting in anticipation
snow falling lightly
reins firmly in hand 
slow canter across
 snow blanketed  field
steam rising from
my powerful steed
hawks circle overhead
red fox watches
absolute peace...

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Metal bent and plastics shorn
along the street glitter adorn,
remains of combat vehicular
litter on oiled asphalt and tar.
Quickly towed, no cars remain,
Perhaps some water or other stain,
Why do they not clean up it all?
A message, perhaps of human fall.
Until the rain or employed hand
sweep away the remnants and sand....

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For braving that stunning heap
You’re headed for a big reap
And have made a giant leap:
Into earth digging deep,
So that families won’t weep
Or hunger-driven to sleep,
Every wrought bulging heap…

A cause to into kitchens leap
And at same oiled yam beep:
A farmer feeding the rest
But-alas!- denying self rest....

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I oiled the card of daily being
splashing the paint from glass; I pointed
slanting cheekbones of ocean streaming
on plate of jelly, I was joyed
to read the calls of some new lips
on tin fish scales; oh, it is cute,
But could you play Nocturne on ribs
of very noisy drainpipe flute?

P.S. My translation of poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky...

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Still night broken by call of soul owl
watching over the lodge of my father's brother.
The next world awaits my uncle. 

His walking clothes prepared. 
His feather oiled to a brave sheen. 
Knife freshly sharpened in beaded sheath. 

He calls to owl. I'm ready. 
The women begin the journey chant. 
My father dances with joy tears.

3/30/14...

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