Short Slogged Poems

I was banged!

Five stars in the night of scars,
Were like flies in my eyes.
I was wrong,
I was slogged,
My pimpled Apple fell on his Granny's Nipples!...

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My Ancestors slogged in Scottish bogs
Washing wool for the textile folds
And dancing with the spinning jenny’s
Apparently, there were some English blokes 
That I can count among my folks
Well what do you know and what was the chance
Someone hailed from Normandy France
Add to these a lady of the Peloponnese
And this makes up ninety eight percent of me...

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So God asked me smugly, “How did you
find the life I fashioned one for you?”
“Not very colorful, Sire,” I decried.
“My wife was homely and dull
My kids, mediocre and drab
I slogged, I struggled feeling ever gray.
An uneventful life. Unconditionally normal. 
Methinks, you did a gross injustice by me.”
“Oh, shut the … whining,” God boomed.
“Just go back and get a life!”
...

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Six mile hike
Twelve hundred feet of climb
Viv in a pack
Up on my back
I’d do it anytime

Six mile hike
Left a car at the top
Hiking through lava
Jonesing for java
Didn’t see a shop

Six mile hike
Trek in the painted desert
Slogged through sand
That wasn’t planned
Morning comes, legs gonna hurt

Six mile hike 
Granddaughter, daughter and wife
Out in God’s glory
Writing our story
Gratefully living this life...

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The storm brawled with the flying rags 
of mad clowns.

Small birds exploded
in spiral sprays of feathers.

Deer slogged against a hoof tugging fright.
Raccoons clung to barn beams.

Trashcans spun like whirligigs.
Ducks sunk amid churning reeds,
the wind hurt every eye & heart.

All hid from the calamity jig.
Whirling trees danced,
in a bugaboo blow

that chased a sky around its own
wracked 
and flying red ribbons....

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In the heart of bustling city,
It majestically sprawls across,
Mesmerising and gorgeous,
Bounded by pristine stone walls.

Awash with memories, I recall
Nights slogged until dawn,
Gearing up for exams and events
And placements to top it all.

Lived a dream with friends for life,
On these hallowed lands,
Rightfully the 'place to be', now and
Even in the years to come!...

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A part hayt odyssey, 
Resembled like mornarchy.
The alley nocturnal caused 
Mayhem in the locations.

In the days of anarchy, no
 Man's land was nominated
To asphalt, but evacuees
allotmented by a part hayt.

Rascal ogres rebuffed for 
Ambidextrous.
Some fought for realm, Some remained 
queasy and sissy.

The policemen slogged youth 
Willy nilly, while the henchman
Neither splinter nor quiter. 
The bosterious finally decreased
And history was made....

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I’ve slung high upon my shoulders
The burdens I’ve to bear,
I’ve trudged upon that weary road
Benighted by despair;
O’ yet the sun rises on the morrow,
Thus to shine again,
But I must dream each night away
To see that day begin!

I’ve slogged along the twisted road
And steered the daily coils,
I’ve languished on the dark defeats
That lie within the toils.
O’ yet dawns another sunny day
To field my way again,
Still I must dream each night away
To see that day begin!...

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