Pounding headache
runny red nose
cold season start
Silvan black
Come the grackles
Shimmering blue streaks
Darting toward the sound
Of bird song glee
Bullies
In Zorro garb
Storm the bird feeder
Black darts
Flung at swaying targets
Challenging
The squirrels reign.
Sparrows
Root for the stalking cat
To strike
Leap high
A streak of red
Upon the sylvan black
Blinding silver streak
Explodes
Rocks crash
Roof rattles
Cracked sky
Spills fury
Pent up rage
Inflicted
Doors
Windows
Blown open
Wild wind
Laces through
Snuggled up
Tight and warm
Bear hugging
Howling storm
Wrestling
Chest crushing
Rib crunching
Dominion
Pinned down
Struggling beneath
Seeking for some
Lasting release
I won't let this
Tempest leave
Make it rain
Forty days
And forty nights
Yet
Somehow
Some way
I fall in
Dream
It slinks away
And all I
Wake up to
Is this
Fresh morning
Kiss
BLUE STREAK
Hair dyed red with a streak of blue.
The sort of thing punk rockers do,
Not something I’d expect of you.
I wonder what possessed you to.
You say it’s time for pastures new.
But, Mother, you are ninety-two!
5th June 2021
Bite Size No. 4 contest
Sponsor - Line Gauthier
I am not afraid of mice
but I have a horrible fear of seeing the streak of one
inside my house.
I watched one eating cat food the other day
and felt an affinity for him, or her, whatever it was
until it ran; the streak of a mouse turns my blood to ice.
You are not afraid of mice, my husband observed.
You are afraid of seeing the streak of a running mouse.
This is accurate.
I think it is the unexpected startled aspect that bothers me.
Though I doubt I'd like to wake up with one snoring next to me.
My aching frame feels like breaking
Shattered glass shards scattered
I'm quaking, totally shaking
Battered weak bones smattered
My paining form's fully draining
Crumbling bits come tumbling
This straining strength slowly waning
Grumbling parts go stumbling
This hurting is disconcerting
Fractured frailty captured
Exerting flesh is diverting
Ruptured decline structured
05.01.2021
For Charlotte's "Open Poetry 4" contest
I saw a streak
out of the corner of an eye
turned but not quickly enough
lost boys appeared
did they know they were lost?
little girl snickered.
what kind of island is this?
Another streak
but I was not quick enough to catch it
the sky was dark
but wait!
was that a diamond?
absolutely brilliant twinkle
the boys were smirking
were these the missing star bright elves?
I watched them all night long
occasionally saw a streak
the sky lightened and brightened by more and more stars
but I could not prove anything
they were too magical for me to catch
Can you imagine a streak of good luck,
When you're lucky even for no reason,
When you buy without asking for change,
When you don't ride like a horse?
Money likes to be counted,
And besides they are in the hands of go
Who, without looking, goes to buy,
Who does not wait for the salary to be given.
Even love without luck is nothing,
She is particularly capricious in this opinion
No one likes it without luck
Feelings pass by in doubt.
Not everyone saw the streak of luck,
She is like a fern flower,
He walks with a proud gait
And she doesn't need anyone's advice.
Thoughts of happiness are like a grenade,
They often blow people's brains out
Everyone dreams of that lucky Sonata
That will give you a bridge to luck.
a faerie flutter
almost imperceptible
delights my soul self
A little mischief's all I had in mind,
Was nothing bad,
Was just a fad,
But more than just some trouble did I find,
I was unclad,
Which made them mad.
They called it 'streaking', so I thought I'd try,
It was a blast,
I ran so fast,
Before this time I thought that I was shy,
The room was vast,
I came in last.
Around the room and then right out the door,
They said they'd wait,
But I was late,
The car was gone and I was left, hardcore,
They were irate,
I could relate.
They were upset and, frankly, so was I,
My friends had fled,
My clothes I'd shed,
And now I knew in jail I would fry,
My face was red,
I'd made my bed.
The cops came in and put me in the 'pen',
Still I was nude,
A naked dude,
So there I was with many other men,
I thought it rude,
And very crude.
They laughed and joked and made such fun of me,
It was so cruel,
And I, the fool,
I was a stupid man, you will agree,
But once a jewel,
And very cool.
A lesson learned, and now I wear some clothes,
No more to 'streak',
I'm not a freak,
And no more, ever, will I dare expose,
Show my physique,
Or turn the 'cheek'.
I turned in my driveway yesterday,
I saw a strange car and I yelled "Hey!,"
when I opened the door
I saw them on the floor...
naked running was all they could say!
All aboard the Rhode Island Line!
We're guaranteed to be on time
Grab your suitcase, grab your coat
Let the railroad be your host
Write a postcard, you will boast
about what you've seen from coast to coast!
We will make the traffic wait
stuck behind a crossing gate
Boxcars, hoppers, and sleeping cars
strung together, and going far
rumbling down the railroad track
Don't bother looking back
Up the slippery slope
Engine takes the lead
Picking up some speed
Convoluted smoky trails
Consolidated silver tails
Contemplating railroad tales
Whistles blast!
Whizzing past!
Gone!
______________________________________
10/17/14 For Andrea's "I Don't Know" Contest
Looking out into the light so bright,
Waves of confusion, blur, noise,
Unwilling to give in to the forces of nature,
Holding on to what once was,the initialised state, the beginning of the end,
Unaware of the fact that maybe she was not charged enough for the load she was about to carry.
Panting, worried, lost and confused,
The tears rolling down her cheeks just acting as mediums for electrical torture,
As she pushes through the infinite resistance, her courage is induced,
Slowly she starts to fathom the light ahead of her,
Only to realise, the shining light illuminated from her soul.
A scented streak of weary sense
replies to grief that prowls the mews
A deep green blue of wailing skies
enshrines a mood,
in part to please
Slow-rolled piles of willowy grass
arouse a birth that slowly drowns
Uneasy bursts of fading wind
align to vows inclined to cease
A caving wall
designed for fraying stands aloof
A loosely carved memory
declines the option to rise again
A kiss that resides in me
emerges again to ask for you
The pain that lines its path
and masks your smile
declines the scent that you live with
Awaits a task
designed for souls that pass…
and laden with
unfulfilled pasts
Amusing taunts
invite a bruising end to this
And
bring back the streak in troughs
that wave my peaks
and foul my peace
It’s too late to do anything now.
The Phillies finished third this year somehow.
When the season is over, they will just walk away.
There will be no post season play.
Because their earlier performance was weak,
it is the end of their division title streak.
They won the Eastern Division crown five years in a row.
Will they come back next year? Who will know?
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