Short Sporadically Poems

Sporadically
individualistic
communication...

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very
scary
hairy
airy
wispy ghosts sporadically haunting
nothing has seemed as very daunting...

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Some droplets of ash
in a white cottony fluffs
Total eye candy!
Sweet like sugar and honey
Sporadically cloudy.


03/13/22
Tanka...

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flashes of atavistic plurality
           saves us timelessly
           and sporadically
           from what we are
           programmed to be
           by the system... !...

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Molding happiness, shows onto lips
forming inquisitive laughter
that is breathed upon your heart;
beats sporadically
hoping for a touch
missed by a thought
wait again
erased
you...

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Stupendous
Stimulating
Surreal
Show,
Seducing
Scientific
Souls,
Severe
Supernova
Shatters,
Space
Splinters
Sporadically
Scatter,
Survey
Spectacular 
Starlit
Spectacle 




21st October 2019
Toutogram poems poetry contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper...

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The rain drops sporadically
hitting every pain of glass 
till all is wet to touch 
the rain pours down deeply now
 splattering up on the grass 
till it's too much 
the rain runs a steady stream along the driveway crease washing away the leaves of winter's past 
filling the drain...

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Whitewashed sterile walls enclose,

Cluttered fixtures and cluttered egos,

Layed to waste on the purgatorial carpet,

After the august ersatz banquet.

 

Yet sporadically in bouts of joy,

Benevolent souls oblige this toy.

Obscenely bright becomes mellow light,

And sterile walls vanish from sight....

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...speak sporadically in soft sassy syllables
...open opulent overtures to appease my err
...revoke risque rashness of the adulterer
...modulate too many manic memories.

savor satiable sweetly shared sensations,
admire adored avenues divinely alone.
target toxic tones forever together,
why wholly wade, wondering where we
faithfully failed famous fortuity forever?...

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The snow will melt and the seasons will change
		On the months that we are away
			Minutes, hours and seconds will pass
	If you look sporadically through the windowpane 
			Soon you will see spring again
				Time will pass once more
Where the sun will blaze across the sky 
The warmth will kiss your skin
As summers end approaches I will be back again
		Our migratory process
	Like birds in love without a sense of direction...

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At the foot of the Elbow,
just above the Bow,
an angler drowned
his feet caught 
in a shopping cart
split-cane rod still 
firmly in his grasp.

On the Grand
just below the Gorge,
another died 
opening weekend,
high water
few details are known.

At the Whirlpool
below Niagara Falls
bodies surface
sporadically 
but few are anglers.

When I go, I hope 
it’s in my waders 
but miles of rivers 
remain before 
my rods pass
to you....

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Gorging upon self-indulgence
while your soul lies starving in the corner
Dissociatively liberated from consequence
as the host endures accountability

Psychotically clinging to a desirable fiction
(an accessible and depraved fantasy)
and basking in its soothing narratives
whenever the tangible becomes inconvenient

Dipping sporadically into a permeable
realm of artificial favorability
Detaching yourself from that which exists
to experience that which is merely theoretical...

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A part of labor and a part of pain
A part of sadness and a part of happiness
However; seeing a small glimpse of the future
The labor, the pain, the sadness and the happiness
Was close- by:  waiting to be belong
Why torture the night?
 
 When peace seeks unity
 And the morn is few hours’ away
 tonight we lie awake: thinking

 Why torture the night

 Ours hearts beat sporadically
We search deep within for
The truth which were never told
Why tortured the night with humility

Mr. R and Mr.O...

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v2

Hiding, riding in clouds
You come down from Heaven
Kissing leaves and flowers, filling streams
Sometimes merciless…pouring
Other times gentle…misting
Sporadically invited, frequently intruding
Persistently presumptuous

You can be cool or warm
Soft or hard
You may clean our wrath
Soothe our soul
Quench our thirst

Whether you come in showers or seasons
Leaving puddles of sorrow or pools of joy
One thing is consistent, absolute…
You are always falling…...

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if i’ve missed your birth day
there’s still your birth week
or even your birth month
or would the celebration
of you dawdle into the light
of a new month — too much?
perhaps a year, perhaps
we pretend that your important
enough to celebrate
for an entire lifetime —
yes!
let’s go with that!
little surprises appear sporadically
forcing you to smile ear to ear.
do you feel my breath
so close to your ear
whispering
sweet nothings…
they’re everything…
i love you, dear!

3/1/2021...

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