Short Queues Poems

First to last
God
Last to first 
Queue 
No queues of Gods 
In queues no God!...

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Generations of waiting
needing and wanting a vote
Dictator ousted; long
long polling queues, many thousands
wait nine hours, it matters not....

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To carry a pen from home
Staying distance in queues
Safe fingers from marking ink
One more hour to make 
At poll this time to vote 
For whose comfort?...

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A clown with red shoes and a grin,
Made burgers where queues would begin.
With fries crisp and hot,
Folks ate quite a lot,
"I'm lovin' it!" they'd shout, from within.

©bfa031825

...

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"Dead Letter Queues"


In the In-Between time 
the letters materialise 
words lost, suspended
in the Forever Gloaming


(Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018)

...

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Does anyone ask chickens how they feel about barbecues
Don't imagine they'd be in favor or line up in queues
When gobbling at the dish
They surely must miss
A family member when one disappears with no clue...

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Does anyone ask chickens how they feel about barbecues
Don't imagine they'd be in favor or line up in queues
When gobbling at the dish
They surely must miss
When one of their family disappears without a clue...

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As millions of Congolese stood on the queues to vote, 
Thousands of politicians  waited to hear the outcome. 
Some failures will think to push some people to march, 
Telling them more lies as they are always against the truth....

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anywhere without you
aint that pretty
but i keep my peel on you
cold and wet in new york
the wind like a proverbial knife
crowded train
queues at the bus stop
pulling down the ball and chain
Unreal faces behind newspapers
commute at your peril




...

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Leaves still clinging golden and true
after the first Autumn snowfall.
Boughs waving windy good byes to
the last of the yarrows white pall.

Fallow fields of rye long gone by
who also wave heartfelt adieu
as the wild geese cry flying by
so neatly arranged in their queues....

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walk by the burial ground
ubiquitous queues of lichen
awninged tombstones string out

engraving summarizes
bold subheading
who was adored by whom

I slide the dainty floret stipends
turn into gleams
scattered embers
riding the withdrawn wind

Written: September 27, 2022...

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In a constant stream...frenzy, we are consumed with nothing.
My worry is not for the optimist, but for those without free thought.
We wait to be told what to think and know nothing more than a fleeting thought
To our core we know what is real, yet we allow social queues to deceive us
We are lost in the news 'cycle'...

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LIFE IN THE FAST LANE


Mc Bogald’s with its crowded queues at the counter,

Instant joy,  strip of xmas bulbs in the window.

Girls with Santa hats and spray-on  glitter:

Rapid  happiness, bright lights, not a shadow. 

Fast food, but eat it quick,  for the savour will not last.

It has flavour which is fading  fast....

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Listen to poem:

Shocked, taken aback,
I was stood up by my standbys
ever reliable phonies who stood by
and watched. My dear friends quaked
and spluttered excuses from stand-by mode.
How quickly the folksy flock dispersed
to vultures, hanging, waiting 
in stand-by queues, for me to fail, so can step in.
Chameleon onlookers standing by.
Well "Stand By, Folks"
"I'll be back, right with you"....

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Creaky bones,
I must be getting old.
Creaky bones,
But I will not be told.

Creaky bones,
Those stairs are hard to climb.
Creaky bones, 
I will not moan and whine.

Creaky bones,
Bending to tie up shoes.
Creaky bones,
Waiting in those long queues.

Creaky bones,
Once young, now aging fast.
Creaky bones,
Soon I’ll have that free bus pass.

Creaky bones....

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Around around around iwe igo
more fake poems fraudsters show
autistic infamy
the ability to see patterns and queues
who do you think you really fool?
other than old farmers who do not care
his chickens cluck as much as you click
ai ai woah
ai ai No!



Bonus Verse added completely free for your reading pleasure!

And I
have to say
no more Jaywalking
wheely stop it
simply obey
...

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Highway Blues

Oh misery, such misery,
All aboard the Car share queues.
Slow lane, fast lane, going nowhere,
Gridlock on highway blues.

Lines of cones, mile after mile,
Signs warn of speed restriction.
No sight of road workers anywhere,
Adds annoyance to Driver friction.

Twenty hours a week, I lose on this road,
Why can’t I work from home?
Oh misery, such misery,
“Where are you” a text on my phone....

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On Jerusalem's  shinning spectre
London wastes away
On bus Non speaking Englishman
in England's fair open land
The border centres have a heavy load
from your tired, tireless migrants
Tent cities erected in West End
human capital indivisiblely wasted
Crisis queues at A and E
14 years of  Tory waste
The Bird of prey
on England's blight
Give Labour a chance
invest in peoples power
stop unequal development up North
...

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visions of atmosphere
scattered illuminate
faintly lid, the world is blear
the latitude of nighttime sky
flaunts itself on a silhouette pier
evening gives up to nautical dusk
sightings of air on skin are brusk
still there’s a residue
of eerie mystic hue
covering wet rocks
lighthouses through and through
deserted cityscapes
queues of sea mews
moments of magic
making the time subdue
moments of faraway
mists tinged gold and blue...

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Arabic labelling on bottles of water,
Room overlooking bricks and mortar,
Men want tips for being your porter,
Getting to food is a pitiless slaughter.

Piles of olives and eggs sit just right,
In bowls coloured an abyss of white,
Odd cuisine makes a peculiar sight,
This is the date I’ll be having tonight.

Cold meat and ham sit on your plate,
Plenty queues; too much time to wait,
Stomach rumbles, hunger won’t abate,
Hurry it’ll all be gone if you arrive late!...

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