Art deco is classy and sassy, chic and slick
Reminding me of that detective Tracy, Dick
With her square edges and her swirly q’s
Which no other art form could get confused
Art deco is a style that is classic and forever
I have tried to emulate it, do not get it right, ever
her sleek lines and her seductive vases and vials
can get this artist smiling appreciation for miles
Art deco is not easy to describe, but once understood
you recognize it instantly, as only a connoisseur could
I admire and respect her, she is a style of her own
Luckily, I have acquired a few pieces, they are in my home.
The water retreats in a long, slow sigh
Exposing the ribbons that cling to the stone
Lush and dark, a secret held tight
by the pressure of depths they have always known
I reach for a strand, let it coil round my wrist
a velvet tension, a shudder of green
It binds with a softness I wasn’t prepared to feel
Like a ghost of a touch in the spaces between
The scent is sharp, brine and the cold
A heavy scent that fills up the chest
But the pulse in my throat is a warning, a thrum
that some things should stay in their restless rest
I pull my hand back from the swaying vine
From the way it curls, so supple and deep
The sea is still humming a name I can’t speak
and the memories are promises I’m not ready to keep
Hiding from rain
Lies a slick raven
That old wisdom retains
Loves shades of loneliness
Traps all stirs of sounds
Bears mounts of pains
"I don't want a cat", I told Slick,
But her usual style was to trick.
So I went to the door,
Finding outside one more,
Being denied which cat to pick.
This poem is dedicated to my former sister-in-law.
icicles hanging
transparent grasping of eaves
dripping in the sun
when we saw each cleat
with slick surface they would meet
by no one were beat
"Associate Professor Emeritus
Richard D. Slick, PhD"
ahhh
ohh
not
an
ode
to a
once
known
dare i say
friend but
professor
the
hours
i went
and
spent
during
office
hours
for his
were not
his but ours
materialistic
decisions
& Lit at
it's
best best
discussed
face to face
without traces of
but one mistake made
when others would
enter and say:
"Excuse me
Doctor Slick"
... and with
that that's
when
he
would
say, "Please,
I'm not a M.A.S.H.
surgeon or even general
practitioner. Not a doctor. Just
Dick
Slick
When the temp goes down smiles come out.
You can hear the cheers of athletes shout.
Coming from competitors of all walks of life.
Piercing the chill like butter with a hot knife.
Strapping up ski boots to hit the steep slopes.
Some rookies are naturals learning the ropes.
Bundled up and ready to get up from a spill.
Back to flying down that flurry covered hill.
Helping cheer up a buddy short on confidence.
Since sportsmanship pays us back in cents.
There’s more than one winner in every race.
If you do your best, the prize is on your face.
So whether standing on skates or skis.
Or falling and pushing on with sore knees.
There’s a champ fighting to better ourself.
This isn’t for the glory, it’s to feel real health.
Count them out and they’re coming up winners.
Earning every bite of the hot recovery dinners.
So enjoy the show, because they’re having fun.
No matter the standings of when it’s all done.
I am wily and slick like a seasoned coyote.
My hazel eyes travel side to side, as if I am on speed.
I do not want to miss anything.
My dog ears are on ready alert.
Every sense is on high yellow.
Picking up potential problems.
Some kid needs a paper towel.
I turn to get him two.
Turning back in time to see a kid who was running.
He slips on fruit and falls and hits his head.
So much for being alert and aware.
I send him to the school nurse
And ask him to tell her that he was running.
There is no running in the cafeteria.
I guess when he saw my back he took his chance.
Recent rain has fallen on the slick city streets,
And redbird has suddenly abandoned the fast life!
Downtown still throbs with the city's heartbeats,
Like vast fields, in the time of red butterflies.
Varicolored and ever-changing, as untamed nature,
In its endless movement, charm, sights and sounds,
As sleek cars whiz past, carrying a hint of danger,
In a merry watery world, which vibrancy surrounds.
Slick Advertising
Morning Thoughts
5-20-2020
Order today,
It’s only $19.95, and you get a second one free,
but there’s usually a reason that to the eye is lost.
To obtain this gizmo you pay an unknown second fee,
and get “made in China” that will quickly be tossed.
Anything free, has an ulterior motive,
or someone else has borne the cost.
Please stay off icy
Nineteen-year-old-girl is dead.
Please stay off the roads
Highway patrolman on news.
Is begging us to stay home
Ice under the snow
Do not travel anywhere
Car ran into bridge
East I- 70 is closed
Highway patrol is crying
Please stay off icy
Your life is too important
Your children love you
Nineteen-year-old-girl is dead.
Please stay off the roads
leaves glued together
after the Autumn rainstorm —
precursor of snow
10/18/2018
Slick urban sheen
Motion through shadow and light
Lights pass by
Glowing flight of time
Dark frames the picture
Figures glimpse out of sight
Lights break the dark mass
Speed through the night
Engines hums a soundtrack
Hard rev, smooth to fierce
Crack of turbo gunfire
Rage contained on wheels
Listen to the engine
Listen to the night
Listen to your heartbeat
Feel the desire to drive
Slick Singing Sally
She was called slick singing Sally
In a big rally down in the valley
Where she swiftly started to sing
And she gave it her everything.
You ought to hear her voice vibrate
Was so great we could hardly wait
She sure seemed so tall and thin
We wanted her to come back again.
Her eyes with mine would entwine
She was not Sally but Patsy Cline
Every time she sang her number
Said she was quite a cute cucumber.
Guess what next thing we planned
Was being in Grand Old Opera land
And said that she'd do some teaching
So we would stop all our screeching.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.