Short Pestering Poems

A ngie
N aging wife
G oing on pestering
I t feels like a stabbing knife
E bony Life....

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playful prancing pixie Petula Penelope
prancing in a parade beside Patty and me
preventing platitudes from distracting playboys three
privately pestering both Patty and me...

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“Puurrristence” is the name of our old kitty-kat
“No” is not in his vocabulary, fancy that
Keeps pestering until
He breaks your will
He's known in our family as the aristocrat cat


© Jack Ellison 2015...

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My restless thoughts at last stop pestering me.
No consciousness have I when first I’m sleeping.
I long to be submerged in dreams’ deep waters.
Oh, Sandman, guide me past your sandy shoreline
to drift inside the sea of sweetest slumber....

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I'm a poet
Who are you?
Are you a poet, too?
If you are, do you tell?
Or do you keep it a secret?
Do you share your poems?
or do you hide them away?
Do you have words flowing 
in your head and pestering you
until you get them recorded?
If you do, chances are you are 
a poet, even if you don't know it!...

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I look at the stars for hours wondering 
questions fill my mind
I am thinking all the time
Pestering thoughts
Searching for answers never to be found
The world is a huge mystery 
a mystery we may never fully solve
yet these questions taunt us
make us wonder 
all our lives never knowing 
what could the truth be...

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Today I’m a blob
a slob
a glob
a perturbed mob hob
don’t ask me what it means
you will be peter fink snob
you’re ugly and spoiled
and it’s not your business you see,
so get away and stop pestering me.
today I’m a blob, a snob, a glob, 
a perturbed mob hob.
uglier and more surly than
a spilled kernel of a sassy
Iowan corn cob....

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Early morning shivers
Steadied by steaming tea
Sweetening my tongue
Warming me 

The Towhee is calling
telling me to drink my tea
I tell him I have
Stop pestering me

The morning sky is crisp
Pine needles are dancing
Birds are all singing
Squirrels are all prancing

Light through the leaves
Painting them green
Early morning beauty
Enchants me...

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Pestering sweat rolling down my neck
Night time vision is my only set
Eeasing into the medical socks
Using prescriptions to slow my cough
Moments of fun are passing me by
Oooo how my temperture cries
Now I hope to never go through this again
I don't enjoy not having a voice
All this time wasted on being very sick


and that is why i have been gone for a while....

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a poem
pestering a mind to post
& this inside is like hills
on volcanic reactions
or the tremulous voices
of nine masquerades
from the nine villages 
of one clan - 
tumultuous
quivering 
fearfully appeasing
headed for a fiery fire
kindled by unseen
ancestors
hidden by these roots
the roots of my blood
the blood of my flesh
the flesh of my clan
anchored by niger
& her cyclic maidens...

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(Unhinged)

Windows shutter
Doors swing free
All of it
Coming unhinged because of me.

Whirlwinds blow;
Quakes shake then withdraw,

Only to return with a more dangerous claw;

That cuts and bleeds
And feeds and needs.

This devilish menace that's pestering me
In dream state or state street must flee, flee, flee, flee! 

It must let me be and set me free;
Go back to its shackle house,
So I can see me....

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Pestering the deep subconscious 
yet a waking dream;
Running to a place I’ve never seen
almost to the answers at the gate; 
My eyes do not need to see,
I’m already humming;
Dark room ready to transform,
dimension half way around the world;
Is it a map or a destination? 
Mixed with an unspoken language, 
awash in the magic of unknown; 
Ready to change everything 
yet bound by what I think I know;
Pathway to the stars, I awaken....

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Rats! Rats! Rats!
Romping, frolicing, ruckussy rats!
Cuddly, bubbly, lovably rats!
Pestering, menacing, troublesome rats!
Rats! Rats! Rats!

Getting in your hair
Crawling through open holes
Bouncing ‘round from chair to chair
Licking leftover food out of bowls

Tickling, bothersome
Pickling, lothersome
Just plain nuisancy 
RATS!

*I wrote this poem at the age of 12 and I want to share it here in honor of World Rat Day (April 4)...

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We seine them up
like dust
in pollen-stained hands,
briefly weight them,
balancing them in minds,
determining worth,
profundity. 

And like those before,
we toss them absently
into wind—
winnowing maple seeds—
whirling them from us—
as we shape lives,
change destinies.

Now, 
they seem to flit
to nothingness,
like us—
pale night insects
pestering
opal moons,
infestations of night
thickly settling
on the liquid glass
of our tongues....

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You say you are a Christian.  How do I 
know?  How can I tell.   When a look is 
wrongly perceived, or a word is 
misunderstood, do you have the
latitude to have an attitude?

Christian, what makes you different?
What sets you apart?  Where are you 
when I'm stumbling and fumbling 
through life?  Where are you when
festering, pestering issues are plaguing
my life?

Christian, where are you?  Show me the 
way to go.  After all, aren't you supposed
to know?...

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My warn croissant is all mine.
                Go away, dog, tis not thine!
                No need for you to whine!

                Try my delish hot coffee!
                Way hot, do you see?
                Please, stop pestering me!

                He left the room, me forlorn.
                Chasing a loud car-horn.
                Ah, my day of peace was born!

                               
                        

                             12/20/2021...

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