The rivers cough,
Their waters grey and sulky, with exhaustion,
Bitting at the banks that once held,
Children's laughter.
The lethargic trees wear ashes like armour,
Leaves brittle, whispering warnings
That no one ever listens to.
Drifting smoke climbing like a their,
Stealing the Blue from the sky,
Painting the sun in dull bruises,
Where we pretend not to see.
Even the wind carries a taste of metal and sadness;
The birds sing quite than ever,
There wings heavy with weight
Of a world forgetting how to breath.
Yet somewhere beneath the ground
The earth still hums softly,
Waiting for hands that will not choke it;
For mouths that will speake
Before the last river sleeps.
We waited for the coat check
Since our winter garb is bulky
And schlepping it around could make
Us feel a little sulky.
The Met was far from crowded
Yet the line was barely crawling.
We inched along impatiently;
As members, it was galling.
At last we made it to the front;
No claim checks were presented.
Instead, you tapped your number
On a keypad; none dissented.
When we were set to leave,
After a lovely afternoon,
We lined up once again,
Our crawl repeating much too soon.
But as we zipped our jackets up,
I noticed that adjacent
To the line we left was one where
Not one person was impatient.
For it was meant for members,
Which describes our situation.
Had we known about it sooner,
We’d have saved some aggravation.
If this, its literal
Echoes that personal
Once succumbed to, for sulky fits
Then indeed should I pray!
Whilst not underrating
When a child, which state in!
Through each toy, broke and throwing
Game, lost running away.
Our suitcases are very old;
They’re heavy and they wobble.
Discussing getting new ones
Caused a wee bit of a squabble.
What size to buy? Hard shell or soft?
So many out there waiting.
To order it online or not?
We spent much time debating.
We chose one sent by Amazon,
But found it big and bulky
And having to return it
Made us both annoyed and sulky.
We sent it back and in the store,
We found the luggage section
And checked a few ‘til finally,
We made a joint selection.
The purchase made, we’ll wait and see
When we go on vacation
If what we bought was worthy of
All that consideration.
Come and climb these
Broad bony branches and
Have tea on this tree
with me,
Let's talk our hearts out
Into the poems unsung.
Sleep silently singing in my sizzly eyes,
Sleep might snap with some pumpkin chai,
The sun is seeping in my sulky bones,
Soon the milky moon will mysteriously be alone,
Here, have some squishy scone
While the sun is setting sleekly,
I reckon we should have tea weekly.
Sandalwoody sultry summer,
Hyacinth, hibiscus and hummers,
Poppies, primroses and periwinkles,
The night in esoteric eyes twinkle,
Starling singing on a starless night,
No gloom, a moon , no light,
In this sordid slumber silence,
I can hear your eyes speak.
Let's tell each other
All our hearts hanker
To say,
Drink tea and recite
The poems and make
No delay,
I'll have chamomile tea,
I'm not Mrs. Bennet
But it'll calm my nerves,
You like your tea with herbs,
Spearmint, rosemary and thyme,
And make sure the poem rhymes.
She was a vampire; we hung together for a while.
Not a drop of my blood dripped from her lips,
and yet, gradually my soul,
(that wise infant who has taken up
temporary residences in the hovel of my ego),
was sucked like a hapless Mayfly
under her brooding wings.
Little by little
she drained my youthful spirit away
with her 'pity me' hungers,
(a vicious need to bring everyone down
to her own level of misery).
Until
exhausted by her constant tales of woe
I drove a silver lining deep into her heart.
O how she screamed, as a ray of sunny daylight
shattered her sulky sucky-ness.
I left her there
dangling from those manipulative spiderwebs
of her self-loathing,
and fled
with my soulful man-child still intact.
Chapter sequences involving experiences of events
contents of juncture, dwelling places. We'll mention
Life as Chapters
Venturing to destinations not farrying one one's
destiny, Sometimes one will stumble into an assortment
of emotions with anxiety of confusion. We'll mention Life as Chapters
Self discipline, Self love, is eminent, vital to release one's
fears. We'll mention Life as Chapters
Confidence and Motivation are friends with a variety of boundaries marinated with decisions and intuition. Well
mention Life as Chapters
Emotions are comparable to roller-coaster rides peas in a pod lows and highs that fluctuates moody and sulky oftentimes like see saws. We'll mention Life as Chapters
There is a man who had a big belly
That wobbled just like a bowl of jelly
It rocked the baby to sleep
Allowiing the wife some peace
Peace was a night on the town with Kelly.
His smile soon turned into a sulky pout
When once the wife stayed all of the night out
His vocals were obscene
Making the baby scream
The wife swore that he had no need to shout.
He tried hard but he could not believe her
He thought her a fibber and a loser
So he shed his big tum
Now he’s out having fun
Wishing he’d shed his big belly sooner.
Banks did not burst,
just a dribbling bladder of river
leaked into our back yards.
It drooled over damp roots,
seeped into groundhog holes,
into ditches, where winter debris
had already washed-up.
The water rose in some places,
to at least half an inch,
we made phone calls to each other,
imaginations spilling over,
into memories of past inundations.
Some put on rubber boots,
and armed with brooms,
swept the ripples away.
Biblical deluges were discussed,
will the garden ornaments rust?
We watched sparrows bathing.
No geese or ducks landed.
Nothing sailed off over the fields.
A sulky cat was retrieved,
from a shallow puddle.
The mail was cataclysmically late.
Some say that we humans,
have a mission here on earth.
Somebody should teach that
to the ears of idiots.
Few discover their mission,
they rationalize
that being a scientist or a poet
must be their mission.
Few understand,
that loving your horse or dog,
is both holy and ordained.
It's expected.
Saying sorry, ten times a day is our mission.
Knowing that nothing matters,
but caring anyway -
that is a mission,
We were not sent here,
to do great things,
great accomplishments are easy.
Making an excellent cup of tea,
mixing a perfect margarita,
hugging a sulky wife.
These are great missions - do them well.
At the end of the season
bagging trash
worn out from holiness
Lights burning black holes
in bright windows
Longer nights circle narrowing days
sense of unseen toothless dogs
The thin smoke of merriment rising
out of colorless dawns
The children are sulky
their wishes all came true
someday close at hand
they will understand
Still it’s been
(if the amount of trash
counts for anything)
the very best one yet
In the dusting of the spring time,
Sweet scented thoughts of yesterday,
Make my sulky heart sing and chime,
For memories that won’t fade away.
The buds on trees now softly sway,
Reminding me of love once shared,
Of moments that have slipped away,
Of trices when we truly cared.
But time keeps ticking on and on,
And life moves forward with its stride,
Yet in my heart, the memories dawn,
Of love and laughter by our side.
I long for one more sweet embrace,
One more chance to see you heartface!
It was the Eighth Day, the day after,
small undeveloped brains
began to question.
Pigs were still good to eat
but hard to catch.
The stone axe and the throwing stick
were ideal for nothing much, but sufficed
to make the little men constantly
on the edge of famine.
Some thought that a man in the sky
would protect them,
some blamed that same man.
Questions multiplied
who, what, when?
Mankind fell forward while remaining backward.
Dogs were adopted to keep other dogs out.
Wolves ate the dog bones
leftover after the little men had left
for other parts;
the land hated their footprints
but kept them alive
for the sake of the dogs.
Many questioned the meaning
of this and that -
a sulky silence dripped
out of their eyes and noses.
The time for questions was over,
they began to answer and explain
all things,
while few knew anything at all.
On the Ninth Day
they rested deeply
and have yet to awaken.
(curtain raises)
costumes torn
lighting wrong
make up melts
rehearsals long
missing props
forgotten lines
nervous looks
backstage whines
feuding stars
director puce
sulky looks
uneasy truce
scenery falls
missing cues
singers flat
poor reviews
backstage romance
budget woes
producer quits
big egos
opening night
mistakes are hid
think no one saw
of course they did
run is done
sigh of relief
new show now
see you next week!
(curtain falls)
As darkness fell with suddenness,
the sun slid behind the blood moon.
Sounds of nightlife emerged off tune.
You flaunted your unevenness,
emboldened by dark drunkenness.
Your twisted mind a fierce monsoon
as darkness fell.
You came with sulky sullenness
and brought your foul humor jejune.
You played the part of grisly goon
and had lost all your humanness
as darkness fell.
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