Short Pointer Poems

I write a poem on Ajantha walls

With my pointer finger

Pointing, Sigiriya walls

Next be a world wonder!...

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HAIKU
~~~~~~~

the plough... a pointer

to the north... a journey's end

forever winter...

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A musical pointer up in Grants Pass
just can’t get enough of bluegrass
To the banjos and strings
he prances and sings
but still misses the woodwinds and brass...

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His three pointer was clearly a tank
His perfect shot just wouldn’t sank
So, he snatches the net down
And starts to act like a clown
Silly acting clown did the crank...

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How swiftly my thoughts fly now
  to corduroy pants and caps

Facing a howling northeaster
  whistles, the rally of hunting dogs
     ~ the pointer locked, stock-still...

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ouija board sally
setting spiritual guidelines
shes séance savvy

soft black cloth
small silver bell and candle
silent visitors

they ask their questions
the pointer spells out a name
deception or truth...

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Hue and cry roadmap
totem sign or lachrymose 
knee-deep self compass
wading bird  of psychic lull
being is a misty quest
that oblong pointer centred
on some phantom bridge

Date created and posted : 9 th August 2021...

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My poem,

No pen,no paper,

On palm top of my hand,

With my pointer finger,

PIN to all but you,

Give me your right hand to paste,

Read now,

From up,

From down,

Right or left,

Same,the theme,

Like in Monaliza,

Read,

Again and again not,

Once,

To read your name!...

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This is it
The perfect pick
But where in the world do I flick it

Thought I had 
This habit kicked
Here is proof I didn't

Maybe if 
I wear oven mitts
Then pointer finger would listen

Lately it's 
Been hit and miss
With my daily pickings

Guess this is 
Just what it is
As I go back to digging...

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 doodle
 poodle

beagle
regal ?

pointer
join her?

bulldog
bullfrog?

bird-dog
wears togs?

shepherd
peppered?

robust
adjust?
    
perfect 
pet picked

you bet
asset

We found a female rat terrier/chihuahua mix, six years old. We have her on trial for two weeks to see if she will fit....

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Nine turns o' lunar
sailin' ace wit' me schooner
suckin' me pointer
plucked orf me decks 's'twere
me lingo sucks, yo'd concur?

Ahoy, me mateys.  Me scrawlin' me be servin' anent th' mugshot o' th' wordy wench
Linda-Marie, th' sweetheart o' these 'ere waters.  Go shakin' yo' ample booty, worthy
lass, 'n heed me pennin' wit' favor.  Aye, aye, Cap'n.  Arrrrgh!!!...

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Any poet to put in poem 
To my potted pot
A poem in a potter Plan
Affectionate in a pottery plate
Poetry in a pointer points
Poems in a pretty lines
Poems to be puranic in nature
Poems in planets patterns

To be put in a poetry Soup
Poem poetically in pot pottery

Any poet or poetess to lead me poetically.

®© 01/4/18. Abdul-Wakeel Abdur-Rasheed Junaid......

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My mouse just sat there_not beaming
It would not make the pointer move
I tried to resuscitate
But its power was waning
Batteries would not rejuvenate
Its brain was loose in the USB port
Well, all things go at some time
I was going to bury him but my grandson took him
He came alive again just what he wanted...
I now have a new mouse
Who is lively and excited about being held by me
I am excited to hold him too......... ...

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i'm driving and the air feels like a 
space vacuum
the oncoming trees are copper
and the speedometer has lost its pointer
the specimen jar in the drink tray
has reached newfound heights
how can i run with such fa(s)t legs? 
how do i scurry about this rock
with the intentions
of a madman ...
yet, somehow during this hoover ride
i wished for a camera
so that i may take the best angle of my life
and show it to the world...

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‘‘Twas Saturday
Everywhere was filled with haze
She found a brocade
In the name of her slave

Provoked
Embittered 
She rushes to his chambers 
Tying a bandana

She spoke in anger 
Why? Mr Damian
Would you awaken a tiger
Under such a hazy weather

He rose in anger
Arms stretched like a pointer 
Rejoice, Oh! defaulter
For luck hath saved thou!

Shocked 
Reluctant 
Oh No! She cried out!
Indeed you are a stranger...

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(16/03/2013)

I’ve tangled my pointer with my hair 
While looking up to gaze on the smiling sun
Over hundred times,
On a bench, 
Waiting for your presence

I’ve become boredom conqueror 
And unearthed those buried stones under 
After I’ve had enough of my android,
On a bench, 
You’re still not here

I’ve sent the sun home
And kissed the clouds goodbye
I’ve lost my spirit 
And sighed out my stupidity,
Off that bench,
You’re a disappointment...

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The cursed, blessed thing.
My Detriment Machine.
With this, to you, I cling.
My fear resides in the timer ring.

Because of this, we can renew.
Rekindle fires that once were true.
And although my pointer is black and blue,
I have yet to give up the warmth of you.

At first, I knew of no such thing.
But down on your knees, level with thee,
You looked into my eyes and gave me the key,
And showed me the castle of which you are the king....

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Do's and don'ts,one corner
Good and bad, the other 
Yes or no,in the middle,
Choice,a sructure of life
Right or wrong,the choice,
Good or bad,the choice
Right in trouble waters
Letting wrong to sail
Adam,the pioneer of wrong,
Practising in Paradise
In right or wrong
I am always right
I walk along the road
The motor in cross
I drive up a distance
The walker crossing
My pointer finger showing the wrong doer
When my four fingers pointing me!...

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I learned to type the proper way
Instead of hunt and peck,
Most often on a manual.
(Electric was high tech.)

But nowadays when texting
I’m pathetic as one comes
For I seem to be incapable
Of writing with my thumbs.

So every message I compose
My pointer finger taps, 
The right one only, I should add – 
No tangled overlaps.

I marvel when observing
All the mainly younger folk
As they thumb their words so quickly
While I, turtle-like, do poke....

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Paradox

Appears and

Burns the story

And itself..

A shocking

Turn of events

In a story...



Stories are

Appearances

Of knowing..

Paradox points to

Not-knowing

Which may 

Empty these

Appearances...



Paradox

Is a sudden

Pointer

In a story

To the immediacy

Of emptiness

In all stories...



Paradox

Sets a fire to

Separation's hold..

Impossibility

Is the new story..and

Possibly peace......

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Burst of brandished flaming arrow,
Thump of bunnies against my chest,
Cupid’s straight pointer did narrow,
Continue my family crest.

Squawking souls of birds in my nest,
Potent from moonstruck bolero,
Crescendo of lust’s citrus zest —
Cock-a-hoop’s sunstruck sombrero.

1/18/2020
Charles Messina’s Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay Poetry Contest
ABAB BABA 8 syllables

*Cock-a-hoop normally an adjective, using as a noun here
triumphantly pleased or boastful : happily exulting...

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