Short Trusses Poems

Dice and pieces, blown on trusses
Numbers and feathers, trots and roaming
Spice with dashes, thrown in sashes
Dots and wreaths, clots and breaths reeming...

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Cockles and Mussels In Brussels

The women wore trusses after having tussles;
They were embarrassed thinking that Brussels;
Did survive;
Came alive,
Only city that can serve cockles with mussels.
(Actually it was London fair city.)

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet...

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Cursed be the evening,
in which anger and despair
lead to mourning perpetually
under the night's chilly air

To rise when the eyes see,
the sun's gaze upon the earth
is unwishful to one who seeks rest
thousands of feet below the dirt

Forsaken he is, if that's what he felt,
Hung to the trusses by a belt
let the moment of inexistence
strike once the clock hits twelve....

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What nights began at dawn
For the day is strained to
end with the setting of the
Sun
Lonely nights have women
To be less than perfect angels

Days eager end leaves her cold
Must these strangers have
Need for her company
Must strangers make mention
Of those nights
Whos whispers are darling
in companionship
might he who loves me
Say I have been a tramp
amongst the evening
might they say I am
a whore of the night...

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Before I begin my muse
Tell me how could you use
The love I always choose
Want me to blow my fuse?

Beauty from my hidden bag
My magic wand loves to tag
Dazes me to walk always lags
Let these humans..? what fags.

Hold still as I slide on your back
In smoothness as perfume track 
Breezy, trusses skating as a sack
Blundering fools I hate to smack

Wonder a while you thieving packs
I am that great living elf don’t whack....

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In a remote village
I recently visited
all the houses tin roof
over wooden trusses
ekra bamboo walling,
mud plastered.
At the roadside installed
a community water tap.
The nature in that village
not so altered by humans.
There, I felt a while
myself going back
to the era of tin roof houses
of the conventional
agrarian environment
when I was a child long ago.

16th Nov.2018
( The poem written after visiting the S.C village of Pheiyeng )...

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Dappled sunlight on emerald leaves,
Rhododendron trusses painted in rainbows.
Daffodil ablaze in golden glory,
Roses dipped in  dark burgundy.

Garden of beauty a temptation to all,
Vivid colours crying out to be adored.
Gently descending floating on the breeze,
Vibrant shades of azure adorn her wings.

Delight to the world a thing of beauty,
Resting motionless amidst a rainbow.
Densely clustered petals her throne,
Resplendent in the mottled light. ...

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