Not fretting couldn’t be gladder about getting podgy?
Forgetting about a stodgy bladder that’s definitely dodgy?
Sadder even snotty about needing a potty..regretting being dotty
Betting some grotty grumps about bumps & lumps anything spotty
Sometimes memory stumps.. only remember embers now befuddled
Somehow the huddled cast of the distant past still cuddled
Ashes of once clear flashes of near yesteryear appear muddled
Ribald oracle.. grinning about going bald...hair thinning
Apart from the ears and nose where it shows..grows & flows
Can't pretend follicle foes & woes.. do descend dear friend
Clearer you're now nearer to the rear end than the beginning
Refined increasingly find you do become more kind
Other than the tumour of another baby boomer
Defined needy seedy greedy.. must feed me consumer
Not a rumour..increasingly I pined for candour and humour
Chaps can perhaps blossom as a wined & dined late bloomer
No remorse.. scheming larrikin leaning's still in force
Gleaning the gleaming meaning of life is all about giving
Dreaming.. loving.. smile beaming and "living" of course
Evidence was spotty, not much justification
Giant stretch of prosecutor’s imagination
Easily led jury wanted to crucify and convict
Defendant’s wife felt like he was being kicked
Though there was no solid proof or DNA test
Was this lawyer truly the defendant’s best?
Victim was not alive to testify, unfortunately
The accused got sentenced to life and twenty-three
If this sap had been a child of a Pres or senator
He would have been released without prejudice for sure
But a poor boy usually has a pathetic defense.
This innocent man spent the rest of his life behind a fence.
Some writers struggle
Coughing up words in a painful way
I feel a bit of their agony as I read their missives
A jumpy spotty difficult flow is painful to readers too
few colors, but green
a Fall stand out
spotty, the Southern reds
beautifully shaped
teeny, not trite
the fallen
up North, pleased
by ample leaves
the tumbler of hues
crimson and gold
over my shoes
as if snow
trees on both sides
of the streets, a treat
still, I know
my yard will overflow
raring to be raked
slurried by depths
piled on tarps
pulled down slopes
agonized over
forgotten the sparkle
the jumping pile
of a cheering child
The trees rustling, sound like the oceans
Coming up to shore and going out
Slowly calming sounds of the motions
Knowing a crab is walking all about
My life is also like the oceans
Constantly seeking approval of life
All we have is our emotions
Screaming into our eyes
As I’m laying here, not by a beach or a crab
But reality is sad, but clear
My back is flat as if on a slab
Restfully and peaceful, but longing to be there
Mind slowly shutting down
Darkness claims my body
My dreams are spotty
But always around.
By: Iva Lou DeSiata
A small hand tugs fingers -
my son and I,
plus 30 time-traveling years –
both of us pulling together for once.
The wooden horses spin,
just missing each other
by decades.
An appaloosa stomps the air.
"Look daddy the spotty one leaps highest!"
Little fingers spring open, gallop away
toward the carousel.
A five-year-old boy lifts me,
onto the smooth saddle,
holds me tight,
as a memory goes around again.
Inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension,
of myth and legend as Yaguara,
or "Death in one leap" the sleek frame, Jaguar
as if it's from another dimension.
Leopards bit spotty, but Jaguars take
a rosette form, tell-tale signs like water
that natures them. As a jungle squatter,
prey, and time of hunt, don't discriminate
their mettle. Domains--mine alone; moms play
dads too, tongues play teeth too, cubs play adult
as hunt molds age. Overcast shades result
in a Black Panther coexist display.
Imperil: human expansion collide,
... imagine our continental divide.
She has spotty skin
Whereas he has warts on his
He has freckles
She has boils
One's too oily
One's too dry
He is too pasty
Her's is too dark
She is too yellow
One's is patchy
The others too red
Yet for all of these many differences
There is one thing they all have in common
Is we are 1 and all
Universally unhappy in our own
Skin , within and without
Weekend in the countryside,
a way from the noise to hide.
Somewhere to breath the air,
I'm glad I was there.
In the middle of the night
with the silence, with no light,
you can listen to a dog barking
with all the the stars sparkling
in a sky with a showing face
smiling with nothing, but grace.
Spotty and Goldy, the two cats,
living in the old barn,
always searching for rats.
Independent in the loft,
they only beg to be loved.
Weekend in the countryside,
now the cats are beloved
walking in the sunny side
He was a violent slasher in a movie,
there was no way for him to spook;
The murder weapon rather bougie;
A psychopath doesn’t frighten easy,
when a fear would rise he’d rebuke;
He was a violent slasher in a movie;
Devoted slave of what is high society
wielding a steel dagger that he took;
The murder weapon rather bougie;
The wifi connection was so spotty;
Unable to handle a common fluke,
he was a violent slasher in a movie;
Stealthy with the aid of technology
without it it’s hard to be a crook;
The murder weapon rather bougie;
All of this made his frail nerves crazy,
no phone no power he would puke:
He was a violent slasher in a movie,
the murder weapon rather bougie.
that old fellow resting on a park bench
that kid holding a short stick
with a bouncing red balloon tied to it
that spotty dog barking at the balloon
all are a temporary shelter
the homeless
don't look for benches to rest upon
they have stuff and they fear to carry it far
the benches were transplanted elsewhere
when the homeless turned up
that old fellow on a bench
that kid and the bouncing dog
know a temporary shelter
when they see it
most benches are planted
by those that have moved on
Old Man, all alone
remembering his bawling baby, being sick
and of spotty girls with golden hair
daydreaming of pink blancmange and pies
Friday nights
once he was a lad full of brass
punching the sulphate air
His wrongs as horny as cover
The autumn leaves intertwine
The still sleeper
with no clocks to chime
The night ascends
broken by the screeching owl
Warm Wellies
I asked what you want for Christmas
And you replied "warm wellies"
I thought about that for a second
And how they are just like you
So warm and comforting,
Dependable and safe
Less shiny now, but never to me,
Made all the more charming with their cracked armour from storms past,
Forever protecting from the bad weather and ahead
I might even get red spotty ones
Just to hear that chuckle of yours,
That propels me back to a girl again
Looking up into those eyes,
Crinkled at the sides with laughter,
My favourite.
So yeah, dad. I'll get you those wellies.
Those wellies that are just like you.
I am going on a jungle journey,
and I plunge into a frightening world;
hidden layers of foliage ferny.
Gazing at me is a very strange bird,
I am drenched in adventure and magic;
and I plunge into a frightening world.
A wrong step or move could be so tragic,
pausing, I smell decay and creeping moss;
I am drenched in adventure and magic.
Moon glows on the river like a caress,
gathering water I drench my body;
pausing, I smell decay and creeping moss.
Through the water slithers something spotty,
could be an anaconda- I shiver ...
gathering water I drench my body.
She rises and I see her head hover,
I am going on a jungle journey;
could be an anaconda- I shiver _
hidden layers of foliage ferny.
_____________________
April 07, 2022
Poetry/Terzanelle/Into the Jungle
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1446-225-07
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, An Original Terzanelle
sponsor, L MILTON HANKINS, NA, Judged 05/04/2022
Not many notice I am in drag.
I was complicated,
what with the codes, and the hidden
secrets of last suppers.
In my day
you had to be circumspect,
my works were only
for a select few
like you. Yes you, the spotty nerd
with the horn-rim glasses
at the back of the group
ignoring the spiel of the docent.
One day you will
unravel my intentions,
I am not concerned.
Human nature needs
a strait path from here to there.
They ponder my smile
but it's the background
that is my self-portrait -
no wonder I smile this way.
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