Slacked Poems | Examples

My Cousin Paul

He is a lallapaloosa, a Jim-dandy
But crafty and wise, so he came in handy
He could do electrical work and carpentry
Worked all day, never slacked off at three
He’s a good boy, his mother said to all
Lanky, lean and loved, was my cousin Paul

The Older Sibling

People who are special.

We…

Are people who have a younger sibling.

My sister…

Who I watched and cheered graciously, because she is my best friend.

Or at least, she is nice to me.

Watching her on that stage.

It is not because of anything I taught her.

As I have slacked on my sibling duties.

In the audience, I can be proud from afar.

As they read her name aloud.

That is her first name.

And our last name.

A Business Man Talks

Please" A Big No!"to contract 
That would Shaolin kicks attract,
From a modest aim detract;
Flow of air slow down in tract.

"No"to cheques you never checked;
Much like grains hens never pecked,
Post-dated cheques quick dreams wrecked
And issuer's good name staked...

And -yes- endorsements: thumbprint
For eyes with mistrustful glint
Staring at money in mint:
From head to toe Captain Flint!

From these counsels points extract:
Every goddamned message tracked,
The giver his brains racked,
You not doing so move slacked...

A business Man talks listen:
Minds light and they glisten.

Paying Your Tithe

A time-tested spiritual banking,
Higher and higher one goes in ranking,
Slammed doors sweetly unlocking,
Hindering barriers unblocking…

From the wall one has been flung
And like a bag on a peg hung,
One beautifully bounces off,
Once more cooking better-off
Your trifle not with Malachi 3:10,
God having it written with His Pen;
No chance rubbishing of the injunction,
For whomever must get beyond our junction.

Tithe never is by rude force backed,
Wherefore their payers have often slacked;
Of course, to hellfire straight,
Who even does so late…

As much a robber,
Who could another clobber,
No less, The Shameless Looter,
Who easily turns A Shooter.

Act of God

The sky blackened in the west about sundown
Bringing a sudden specter of terror, to my surprise,
Like the chill that grips you when you hear gunshots
Up the block.  Slacked mouth and wide-opened eyes
Need calm assurance or better someone to hug
Knowing deep someone pleads for life or dies.

An angry twister flees the hazy horizon, headlong,
Flinging aside everything in its preordained path
Of destruction.  Heart pumping and arms flailing,
Beckoning to the storm cellar before the wind's wrath,
Beyond the point of no return where nothing matters
But life itself and what can only be the aftermath.

Quickly, quickly to the shelter!  Low to the ground
Beneath where no one else but I have sought escape
In the few moments while the howling overhead
Sucks out the air.  Acts of God leave a hollow gape
Feelings of power, control, abuse, fear, and loss-
Helps me comprehend the true meaning of rape.

Out On Cat Day

tonight on the back deck
the cat laid in my lap
while rain poured like heck
and lightning's thunder clapped

as bolts sky-cracks wrecked
the darkness was in color wrapped
all round and the rain never slacked
as fifteen year old iris simply napped


stan sand

Wasted Years

When I was young, I had a dream
and saw life in a different perspective.
I saw life as a park,
where I could just come, play and go.
I thought time was slow
so I slacked and relaxed.
I had a dream but kept it inside
saying to myself, "there´s still time".
I played all day
and slept all night.
I even forgot to pray
and ask God to show me the right path.


And then I woke up the next morning,
Wow!!! I´m twenty-five.
Wow!!! I´m no longer a baby.
I´m now living my own life
and living my life includes pursuing my dreams
which I have left to rotten.
I pick them up now
and all I pick is nothing
cause I left them to sour.
I start from the scratch
when my mates are giving theirs finishing touches.
My dreams I start to patch
when my mates are receiving honorary badges.
And then I realized my time wasn´t frozen
but was moving as I was breathing.
It´s funny how life turns out to be
when you´re no longer a baby with little mentality.

Grim Reaper

O! Grim reaper 
I know of your essence
Instrument of fate
But your bones should be weary and leaden
Your scythe should have slacked it's thirst for gore 
For numberless souls have you shuffed their mortal coil 
Yet, you hunger after more
Though you're blameless, a true-hearted servant 
You're blind to gold and silver
You're heartless; deaf to piteous cry
Alas! Your end is nigh
Ultimately, you shall be cast into a fiery mere
And humanity shall live forever more
Our flesh shall not wrinkle, neither shall our hair grizzled

Sparkling Slime

(02/10/2011)
Sleek sealed slime slipped in slacked sheer
Seems sparkling on stomped stamp scheme

Ditty responses:
I got two of my sisters read it loudly... They couldn't manage it well... Well maybe because it's not our first language, but yeah, They tried really hard. :)

In What Do We Trust In Now

Are you saying after I just spent over twenty dollars
On something that doesn’t work I can’t get my money back?
.
And my jaw is slacked open and it’s hard to believe;
And I’ve already paid them so I’m not going to leave
I’m calling the cops (I say) he says go wait in line”
And I really don’t care because this place is mine”
“I saw when you broke it and my wife will agree”
“And after they leave its then that we’ll see”
The smell in the room is foreign in seasonings;
And that may be the point of all of their reasoning’s.
So I pondered the question should I stand for my rights;
But sadly I know I really can’t fight.
So I left with a trinket but no money in hand;
And I felt like a victim of some master plan.

The Art of Restraint

Wide-eyed and nerves clenching,
I await the vacancy that fills the page
As eraser smudges and blackened lead
Sear through stanzas left for dead

Leering on the verge of lines,
I hear the symphony come to a halt
Captive sounds unravel the thread
Burst at the seams like words unread 

Jaw-slacked and brows upturned,
I fathom the launch of syllables
Drifting from my tongue to label
Sights and sounds recounted as tale  

Calm despite gut-wrenching,
I watch the drumming of my fingertips
Fall into silence on the kitchen table
Like wounded soldiers, weapons disabled

Bowling Competition

There was bowling
Competition this early morn
All eight lanes were
In use, competitors worn

The games were tied
The competition tense
One lane after another
Were the pins all hit

Occasionally there would be a break
When the racker slacked at his job 
Then all pins would be hit
Really, really hard

Rocky being terrified by all the noise
Jumps into my lap wanting peace restored
No way can he understand
There are some things only God can control

Music

when solitude is sought,
on a rthynmic angle,in low note,
resonance is caught,and inspiration is bundled.

When voices 're heard as acapella,
and the throat stretches like an orchestra,
behold,its love that pours and sprinkles
 what every youthful heart 'll rekindle.

And when wrinkled cheek 
smiles,bless God,claps and dance in seconds,
the joy of an elder is as high 
like the theme is heaven.

When celebration as laughter 
is cast on tough drums,piano and electric guiter 
and voices 're sparingly gushing out
the world seens to be a stage 
and fun is spread at age.

But behold,when the flute of a funeral is whistled 
and the choir sings on slacked hymn,
and the cheek 're rollin down tears,
the legs that dances only wrestles against impossibility for farewell is the theme.

Hard Rain

Last night I was drinking and watching Hard Rain
I went outside for a smoke and saw a real hard rain
plowing down on the ground surrounding me
My first reaction was to take a walk,
same as always
This time I actually did it though
Stumbling around on the midnight streets
of the alien neighborhood I live in,
finding myself lost
The road to the left leads back home
I take off running to the right 
Running faster and longer than I ever thought I could
The rain slacked,
I'm walking around soaked from head to toe,
feeling foolish
No idea where my false home is
I grew tired, 
walked slower, 
beginning to give up
I collapsed to the ground,
rolling over to see my house right in front of me
I picked myself up,
limping to the door
The whole event felt significant
I broke it up a million different ways
None of it making any sense,
at least not the kind of sense that fixes things
So now I find myself sleeping with sunglasses on
Laying in bed smoking my Pall Malls down to the filter,
sometimes more
As Tom Waits finds the heart of Saturday night behind my chest plate of stone,
trying to squeeze out a couple more beats before turning cold.

Perfect

If sunlight always beat darkness,
and good always triumpheted over sin.

If happiness glazed every frown,
and when it comes to fights the hero always wins.

If every apple was round,
and white purified black.

If people were never poor,
and in jobs nobody slacked.

If the birds sang every morning,
and at night crickets perfectly chirped away.

If everyone achieved 100's,
and clothes never frayed.

If people never fought,
and money grew on trees.

If dogs never bit,
and the sting was not on the bees.

If every human was healthy,
and friendship lasts forever.

If time would move as fast as you please,
and nobody ever said never.

If your hair always looked perfect,
and all of these things were true,
Then I guess you could say, that life would be perfect too.

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