If you ever get your thingamajig caught in a hoozicawhatsit
Don’t swear and don’t curse
It’ll only make things worse.
Just sit tight
It’ll be alright
No need to book a hearse.
You might be keen
To have a scream
But that’ll only please the perverse.
Take it easy
Don’t start feeling queasy
You won’t even need a nurse.
So here’s a tip
Just take that zip
And put it in reverse.
Boredom hits me
Fatigue won’t quit me
I’m stuck at work
I’m going berserk
My boss ain’t here
The coast is clear
But I gotta sit tight
I think of rhymes to write
My mind takes flight
As I sit by the light
Processing information
Looking for inspiration
Should I write about clouds?
Or getting lost in the crowd
Or growing up in the slums
Now I’m twiddling my thumbs
I wait for time to pass
I write some more pizzazz
But I’m still really bored
I’m about to hit the floor
A question I wanna forget
Is it 5 o clock yet?
I sigh in one breath
Boredom feels like death
Seems plagiarism, isn’t a crime
Let’s copy lines we deem sublime
Perhaps from Shakespeare
Or wit Edward Lear
And poet’s deceased a long time
It's pointless alerting admin
Cos stealing work’s not deemed a sin
It’s really not fair
To steal works out there
It happened much to our chagrin
Known clichés which are now passé
Just copy them and post away
Then act with denial
Sit tight, even smile
And perhaps, get Poem of the Day!
I’m a lovesick puppy dog.
Torn between “wet behind the ears” and growing into maturity.
Much like the process of drying fruit, if done properly, it gives the substance more flavor.
If
Done
Properly
And it begs many questions,
Makes me open my eyes and look into the less obvious.
I’m not at all surprised by the loss of my breath,
Not from anticipation, but from the catch in my chest.
It says, “You’re caught.”
It says, “Sit tight.”
I choose to find beauty in the unknown and uncertain.
And I have a feeling that what’s going to happen.. is just starting to begin.
My man for all seasons,
Love has no reasons,
Would you mind if I say.
Magic's the same today,
Moonbeams--love benign,
Aging like vintage wine,
You cast pearls--your smiles,
Let's love on all these whiles,
Whatever you want, you see,
You got it from me.
Don't go anywhere, okay,
Sit tight, never far away!
I never fight the desire to write, but when the ink well is dry I just sit tight until I have the will to write. Quote by Poet
I regret I’ve not been around
I’m upset with my wayward muse
She’s been cruising, I thought she’d drowned
I regret I’ve not been around
My trusty pen has now been found
Poetic gems you can peruse
I regret I’ve not been around
I’m upset with my wayward muse
How can I express my thanks from afar?
Lately, drove past me, smiling and waving,
In such past times, he was my guiding star,
Treasuted image of him I am saving.
"Sit tight, dear one, you see things to the end,"
Always I recall what he had to say,
Separately, path did onwards wend,
I really never know, except to pray.
Steadfast, he came turning back to me,
Inspiring in this dear eternal love,
Far and beyond in that century,
Teaching that all our gifts sent from above.
He gave all he ever met happy heart,
Before time and our human breath do depart.....
by turns,
going up
and down,
lacking
precise equilibrium;
life is...
but a seesaw.
sometimes
we rise.
sometimes
we fall.
when
you find yourself
squatting
on the down end,
never mind
the brooding gray clouds
hovering
overhead.
do not
disembark.
do not
count yourself out.
because...
come afternoon,
sunshine
will peak through it.
you're down,
though not for long!
so, sit tight
on that seesaw,
which will
inevitably rise...
up, up, up!
and when your feet
f i n a l l y
lifts off the ground,
release
white elephants
within
to the welcoming wind.
shake off
any encumberance
on your shoulder.
outstretch
your arms
as though
you're about to fly.
taste the air
with your tongue.
taste the newfound freedom
taste life
itself.
The Trails of Sanity
Why do I care if the disturber carries on
Why is it I cannot just wait it out, bide my time
Be more mindful, try and bond
Embrace what I don’t understand
Welcome the scorching taste in my mouth
I wait, I watch, and watch and wait
what seems a millennium
The afterglow of embers still burn
Just sit tight…
The day ends with a tug on the swatch
of the backpack, I doff it off my shoulders
I hear the trifles start up once more behind me
As my eyes wander upwards
As the Rigel star taps into my soul
As I surrender inward, a whispering voice
cues consolingly…
Here you are
Mind at ease
Free
With falls last remnants dangling- winter touches
Scarecrows and masked children say "So long" for now
First flakes of white make the snow globe come to life
Sleigh-riders sit tight
The evergreens sparkling their pines from the moon
On the lake the ice-fishers trout takes the bait
Mountaintops of snow like icing on cupcakes
Firepits in flame
Leafless trees of empty bird and squirrel nests
Foot stomps from bucks while they're chasing does in heat
White rabbits run- the coyote on the prowl
Broke branches crackle
In season, sonnets often find their bloom
by trailing lesser forms towards the light;
a patient wait’s reward is greater room,
and thus they are content to just sit tight.
But once a way appears, they make their move
and quickly seize the opportunity.
Iambs, awkward at first, begin to groove
and make connections naked eyes scarce see.
Then bursting forth, the buds now put on flesh,
give weight to what was formerly a hint.
With careful pruning, parts are truly meshed,
can best express their purposeful intent.
When poets cultivate a love’s pursuit,
the sonnet bears the sweetest of the fruit.
I can't believe you thought gore would make you sick
when you're the only one whos sick
craving to put a head on stick
you're ultimately deranged
purely full of rage
no longer afraid of pain
what are you anymore?
A mind-wrecked monster?
You want to brandish your claws and sink them into someone's throat
A crazed lunatic with a bloodlust always unquenched
And a mind so godd*mn entrenched
In the reality that time must persist
I am the monster that lurks within
searching for victim to forcefully end
I want to fight with time, draw my sword and stab it in the eyes
tear it apart layer by layer
I don't care who, for death will disturb the perfect flow of time
it will never stop so I will forcefully make it stagger
Just sit tight while I swing my dagger
You have no choice but to die
Time requires that all must not be alive
As you talk to the mirror
You refer to you as I
I refer to I as you
You are the lost soul who seeks the cure
I am the insanity that rests at your core
If we have to die, what's another life?
All it proves is that we have power over time
Once you have decided it's time end someone's life
You yourself have inflicted the curse of time
Upon receipt of this paraphrase whenever it visits upon your person--free of dire straits and in trepidation, its infamous adage, "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong," subject to limits.
I've equivocated or tossed-up similarities of circumstances and their eventual outcome via two terse verse coursing, about a couple of other postings below this one.
It is--I strongly advise--recommended reading for matters of consequence hereafter, for such they'd be an exemplar for a better you.
Equivocation is hiding the truth, sway lies your way ... by telling a story, or stories.
If quantum knowledge serves you well, you'll see the clarity--via the obscurity and levity--and the light at the end of its veracity.
I think we're in trouble mate
why, what's wrong
I saw the pilot reading a manual
was it how to land a plane in a storm
no, how to fly one
???---!.
there's no life preservers on this ship, mate
I heard this captain say that the ship has a full complement on board
so what does that mean
well after the ship sinks
we'll just sit tight
with no life preservers
there'll be plenty
just wait a while
give or take ... !
*NOTE subtleties emphasized in their articulate closures contain a quantum message.
I think we're in trouble mate
why, what's wrong
I saw the pilot reading a manual
was it how to land a plane in a storm
no, how to fly one
???---!.
there's no life preservers on this ship, mate
I heard this captain say that the ship has a full complement on board
so what does that mean
well after the ship sinks
we'll just sit tight
with no life preservers
there'll be plenty
just wait a while
give or take ... !
Second class carriage, in the second class train,
Second class passengers all shuffling their feet,
Trains late again as they walk through the rain,
Train company says there is no need to explain.
Work, work we just need to get to work,
Mustn't be late, we can't be seen to shirk,
Money, money just got to make money,
The more that I make means more for the tax man to take.
The train stopped again, it's the wrong type of rain,
Stare out the window, there's that man walking his dog again,
The station is literally just around the bend, if I could get off I would be there in seconds,
But at least it's dry in here so I will sit tight I reckon.
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