Moving like moonlight
I am the OG silver surfer
Fleshwalkers, Dry Guys, Land Livers,
Have been around for,
What, 300,000 years?
Try 20 million years.
We eat stingrays.
Literally. For breakfast.
I have a 360 degree field of vision.
What's directly in front of me?
Don't ask.
Listen, Humanoids,
I'm delivering this plea
To your nearest post office.
Luckily I found a stamp
With my photo on it.
The plea is:
We are different from the other sharks
(Uhh: other sharks don't use post offices)
And are undeserved of their
Ruthless, roguish, reputation.
Yes, we are younger
Than our arrow-headed brethren
(Just 400 million years younger.)
But our brains are bigger.
Evidenced by our lack of interest
In Walky-Talky interaction.
Check your stats.
Us Real Heads are considered
"Shy" among you. Right.
You wouldn't believe
The number of karaoke
Joints down here.
The moon now
Has dipped down
From the world of air
While the sun has made it's rise.
I'm starting to tan in the shallows
A tad too much for my taste.
Stay safe, sentient skin slickers!
I must be one my way now
At 20-25 miles per hour.
oh much of what we know, do and see
has to do with our birth locality
you won’t know how to shuck corn in any way
unless born in Nebraska, Illinois or Ioway
Born in a forest, we are not awed by a tree
which could make your heart leap in New York City
Midwesterners could not ride well in a subway
unless you could teach them city skills in one lone day
oh much of what we know, do and see
has to do with our birth locality
we might be hicks, but we do well in sticks
whereas city slickers would be confused by our tricks.
To most city slickers I suppose
it’s a little hard for them to tell
the difference between a cowboy
and just a plain farmer. in the dell
Well one uses a horse and a rope
the other drives a tractor and plow
One smells like a fancy pickup truck
The other like the ass of a cow
Are you missing frilly knickers
Trimmed with lace for city slickers?
Japan's panty line
Will lead to a shrine*
Blessed with love and local liquors!
*Everywhere we lived, my wife's
frilly knickers disappeared from the
clothesline, so I LOL when NHK reported
a Japanese shrine with a "Drop Your Drawers
Here!" slot for women to stuff their panties
so a priest could sniff out appropriate prayers
and ablutions to ensure pregnancy. 2,000-years,
and Christians couldn't think of that?
Delicate round droplets on perky white daisies,
Rich verdant April grasses glowing like emeralds
Yellow slickers with matching hats and red rain boots,
World is alive, eager, enthusiastically wet and shiny.
A tiny rainbow with glimpses of pinks and yellows
Rain smiles at her handiwork, showing off spider web.
The world moves, nothing stays still.
The music flows, to make life good.
Stories hold us together, to relate.
To understand the connection we have.
Sage smoke rises, spirit voices call.
Sunset tears fall, like colored raindrops.
Riders spur horses, slickers in the wind.
They wear the night, instead of hats.
This is the brave life, To call the shots.
Take the path that's yours, and own it.
It's the only chance, to find greatness.
With no one to blame, It is yours to live.
With a name that lasts, longer than stone.
And a love that lasts longer than the flesh.
2/26/21
She wore high-heeled, pointy-toed kickers
Like American city slickers
Walked out on the ice
Against all advice
Promptly fell down and soiled her knickers
yellow yolks on the kitchen floor
brighten up the tile
sunflower seeds glow in the sun
for a country mile
dandelions with their bright heads
springing up all over the yard
sunshine magic on my front porch
enticing me to bard
rain coat slicker and yellow boots
shining in the rain’s little test
the only thing that would make today more sweet
would be a taste of lemon zest.
Not like stately elms
do town children line up
nor like gnarled oaks
More like weeping willows
as they yearn for the
elusive health
of their county cousins
or the sullen slang
of city slickers
September 08, 2019
Town Children Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
The first day of work, a fiasco became
Given badges with first initial, last name
None could be sicker
Than Randy Slicker
"Please, don't do this to me!", he would exclaim!
Dogwalkers
crisscrossing
city streets
finding dog parks
to let loose
throw a frisbee
a bone or a stick
burn pent up energy
get the heart racing
run at full speed
back and forth
fun socializing
AP: 3rd place 2021
Posted on March 29, 2019
Scalding hot
The melting pot
City slickers
With knotted knickers
Traffic jams
Slaughter of lambs
Put up a fight
Speed of light
Amidst the rat race
Within reach a can of mace
Keeping up
Got bumped up
Then retired
Just got too tired
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on March 6, 2019
Scott Joplin, Paul Simon and the Beatles pop,
The Stones, Dire Straits and, Yes & ZZ Top.
Bob Dylan plays his heart out, Northern Soul,
Rod Stewart, The Traveling Wilburys do their stuff,
And as if that isn't enough, there's Jeff Wayne,
With his War of the Worlds in a musical vein.
Cajun, Bluegrass and Dueling Banjos to boot.
I got Spike Jones & his city slickers, what a hoot.
Bill Haley, Leo Sayer, and some Monkeys abound,
Each one giving out their awesome own sound.
Now Meatloaf is a band I love to hear.
Coming close behind is the great Chris Rea.
Eric Clapton always stops me in my tracks,
Charlie Parker and Stan Getz on their Sax,
Some great big band sounds at their backs.
All this and more on my headphones tonight,
Just listening to music has been my delight.
I have cleared all the shelves, nothing is left,
All on my spare hard drive, I'll not be bereft.
I hope the charity shop this stuff can sell,
So more folk can enjoy this music as well.
© Dave Timperley 25/10/2018
A Few Haiku
cold water
slapped by beaver tail
take heed
red maples
anticipating
spring’s fire
city slickers
feet slapping wet pavement
a waddle of ducks
And a Senryu
hidden rings
protect her secret
twenty nine years
John G. Lawless
©5/3/2018
...inspired by 'August Rain' by Joseph Brodsky
The afternoon dissolves to darkness,
suddenly the downpour tumbles
and the spouts regurgitate.
Willows wilt and elm trees tremble,
intertwine, then dissassemble,
all awash in green and grey,
threads of nature cast asunder,
unattached they dance and scatter
at the dimming of the day.
Hedges stripped, once meshed together,
tree tops tussle in the fray,
the kettle sings a screaming descant,
shrieking o'er the storm's foray, and listen
to the cabin creaking, squeaking loud
as if to say, I'll bear this, and so much more.
Windows grey with condensation,
all are safe and warm before the fire.
Comfort can be relegated,
greatcoats hang from studded rafters,
scarves and mufflers blend together,
boots and slickers for the brave ones,
regimented rows aligned.
Now there's stew and home-made biscuits,
mugs of cocoa laced with rum,
a cure for nature's howl and hum.
Related Poems