Short Thumbing Poems

Thumbing through countless titles 
with liquid courage aide…
Cher, I channel...

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Today
I saw the west wind
                            ………thumbing a ride back home
©1/7/2022...

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Hot car
Cold road
Too far
No road

Past the road
Flew out so far
Off the road
In my car

No car
Cold road
So far
Thumbing down the road...

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A cold and restless night it seemed to be
This Shadow of man was following me 
He'd come and go with passing light 
Oh what a cold and restless night...

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Shallow roots, always thumbing a ride on a breeze 
                      A natural born drifter, the west wind is your ticket
                                  A nomad's heart and a gypsy soul...

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See there Santa, his fingers drumming,
scratching his head, catalog thumbing.
   The night before his big run,
   "What to give my honey bun?"
It's December; Christmas is coming!

December 11, 2020

host:  Alexis Y
contest:  Christmas Limerick...

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Day A Week Devoted

My mind had been completely exploded
Library with books was found to be loaded;
Some readers in their teens
Thumbing through magazines;
Read books a day a week has been devoted. 

Jim Horn

Library should be listed as a category....

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Dear Fido spies the snow, at which his nose, he's thumbing ...


          For now there's Christmas trees, and that means ... indoor plumbing!







~ 2nd Place ~  in the "A Cute Christmas Couplet (In Rhyme)" Poetry Contest, Andrea Dietrich, Judge & Sponsor....

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Jesus, Gave Me a Lift
Written: by Tom Wright
4/23/2018

Believing was mile marker one, 
on my road to becoming.
When Jesus entered my heart
I was lifted past thumbing.

I couldn’t become more 
without first believing that He could.
Today, I sit lamenting times,
when I grossly misunderstood.
...

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When stress about work started showing
He smoked some of what he was growing
Showed up at work
No pants or shirt
Not sure if he was coming or going!

His stress he still managed to be numbing
Even though dismissal was forthcoming
He said, "It's cool man,"
"I'll live in my van,"
As to his boss, his nose he was thumbing!...

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I reach the autumn of existence
Acknowledging an absence 
Of rehearsal for life,
Accepting that which is unseen;
I welcome God in my life by need
As I sit in a pew for worship
Thumbing the well worn missal
Trying to reason the idea of faith.

Bookmark my life:
Chapters inspired 
By love and strife,
Pages of bliss and yearnings....

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Cries in the night
Echoing through the trees
Whispers carried by the wind
Men sit searching for reason
Thumbing through ancient stories
And borrowed hours
Longing
Conjuring feelings of relevance
Trying to rationalize 
The feeling of impotence
Of being a man
The moon comes but once a year
While tears fill the heart 
Of the restless soul....

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Intellect in disarray,
Eloquence falls short, again.
You, perfect picture, in my mind’s eye,
Words often fail when they aim to describe.

I look in every lexicon,
Delving into dictionaries,
Empty out encyclopaedias,
Thumbing through the thesauri...

I conclude no words compare to you, 
Descriptions weak and rarely true.
No word does justice, phrases fail 
To truly tell what you entail....

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A break in the pause and a look to you
There in the door arch
That was such an image
A terrible cliche noise
So good and hard a memory
Etched into my eternity
You stood thumbing your lip
There isn't much to be anxious for
The thought is gone
The days are over
The clocks have moved beyond you
And my gentle expectations of heartbreak
Yet think of you
As a break in the pause
To this memory of you...

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Sitting here in an adult diaper,
‘cancer free’ I’m told. Thumbing through
a booklet of kegel exercises
for men, this.

After nine long years, in and out of
specialist offices, batting around my prostate
like a handball.

I knew it would come to this from the get-go,
but foolishly fooled myself into believing otherwise,
cause.

Even when I win I lose,
that’s just
the way it is..........

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I wish we could be intimate 
Like how you be with your smartphone 
Be the first thing you check when you wake 
Be the urge that makes you check on me every moment 
Be that first expected morning text
Be firm at your grasp and teased by your  fingers
And respond to your thumbing 
The feeling that shakes, vibrates and turns me on 
I wish we could be intimate like how you be with your smartphone...

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Thumbing through old photo albums
faces of smiling cherubs of long ago

Glossy prints bent and scratched
faded memories of times captured in a second

Little ones grown into adults
who cannot be children again

moments that bring a tear
of a long ago Christmas or birthday

Time gone forever
clocks that cannot be turned back

Years that cannot be relived
childhood that has gone forever.....

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In the peace love seventies
Preached to forgive our enemies
Growing up our freedom breezy
The lovin’ was made easy
Woodstock hippies in bell bottoms
Singing ballads on through autumns
Hitchhikers up thumbing muscle cars
Guitar strumming sweet mellow bars
Long hair beads under stars
Campfires looking up at Mars



Submitted on March 30, 2019 for contest 10 LINES, 5 WORDS: RHYME III sponsored by LU LOO...

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IMPOSING
 
 
 
Feeling lost and lonely, feeling sad and blue,
Thumbing through memories, wondering what to do.
 
Knowing I don't belong here, pondering where to go,
Feeling I'm imposing, bouncing to and fro.
 
Did I make the right decision, jumping without a plan?
Packing my belongings and running from that man.
 
I'm here inside my body, here inside my mind,
Here inside my bedroom closing up the blind....

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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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Machiavellian dharma bums-
thumbing noses at the world
brazen fingerflags unfurled
tragic frowns on magic clowns
in fine designer hand-me-downs
hip and flippant,chips on shoulders
colder than the golden rings
piercing their exteriors

Neoclassic neobrats
drafting in and out of time
tatting lines of prose and rhyme
in easy lays that tease and play
in not the least most pleasing ways
the seed is sown,a need to hone-
a poem of their very own
near to the interior...

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What a privilege! What a treat!
My thumbs are thumbs-up thumbing
Because today, in “Cabaret,”
On stage was Alan Cumming.

Born to play this role as M.C.
Of the Kit Kat Klub,
If he were sick, I’d hate to be
The guy called in to sub.

From wicked grin to dimpled smirk
To knowing, coyish wink,
He let us in all on all the jokes,
Delighting in the kink.

Though “Cabaret” has been produced
For years on loads of stages,
I’m oh-so-lucky that I saw
The M.C. for the ages!...

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Peter has gotten a new job
as a bookstore clerk from one to ten
down by the river
in a sunny little house.
I've come to visit and I'm thumbing through
a book of poems
by Robinson Jeffers' brother.
Incoherent but
more interesting than this.

Out of the river rises a bum of a blob
dripping with water and begging a yen.
While he shivers
I call him a louse
and say This isn't Nippon, you! 
So off he roams
probably back to his mother.
He was a nut
because he wasn't a fish....

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