"Tulips under Sastin"
is a Project and research module
for a song.
It's mention is a work in progress
it's self. Just the mention of this phrase
means interest
and a willingness to be a part of the
inspiration of this
southing sound.
Urging: needing to exsist it
tugs the helm lines
and twistthem in a bunch.
needing attention
longing to be
it's mere mention causes
those who wish togetherness to
come together and create it
for the sake of the future.
polishing,oiling,swabbing adjusting
so that other's might marvel
at the way's of differencing
can bring others together
in a collective with interest same in need and want
a desire to be creative
and at the same time\create something now
that will sound like something then.
Clean all those instruments
collaberate
and settle on tempo, writte the notes
rmember the tone
adjust the need for
clear and tranparnet readiness
folk who love music and don't
mind working come together and create this thang.
!
True happiness resides within each of us
We alone are responsible for our own well being
It is so easy to blame external forces, people, or events
But the bottom line is, we're the ones steering the ship
We're the Captain, the First Mate
Right down to the deckhand swabbing the deck
So here's my advise to all you nice people
Always, always think positive
The dark days are only temporary
Believe me, life is always about ups and downs
Endure the bad days... enjoy the good days
Swab
inside
my nose
presses, swirls. Twinges,
twitches, runs like it’s bleeding.
I wait in lobby, till rest home screener
smiles. “Negative! Good to go!”
Grandmother, I only
do this
for
you!
I had a sweater
By Richard Rix
I had a sweater
Made from all the colors I know
From family red to traveling green
And a future yellow that would glow
I had a sweater
Made from memories and dreams
Of friends and far off places
Strange symbols covered the seams
I had a sweater
Knitted, stitched, and sown
With images and pictures
Of a world I once had known
I had a sweater
That one day got a hole
It became bigger and bigger
Until it consumed my soul
I had a sweater
That nobody could fix
No doctors or nurses
No masks or swabbing sticks
Now it is gone
My sweater has fallen apart
I am trying to put it together
But I don’t know where to start
I've never twitted on Tweeter
nor am I an Instagrammarian
I've searched on Goggle
but cannot find MyFace on the interweb
I ask "how do I find the North Star?"
and get 4,460,000,000 hits, mostly ads
for an ice cream bar called "The Big Dipper"
so I go make some toast and eat lunch
at least I can work a toaster
Kids think I was born in the Jurassic era
believing my first job was swabbing the deck
on a Byzantine sailing ship
for I speak of phones connected to the wall
and TV sets with 4 channels and cars that got 8 mpg
I don't know url's from www's, or http's from html's
my mobile phone always auttocronects my speeling
and cyber censors block my search for 'penal colonies'
I cannot find the mute button on Zoom
so my belch might make it into the meeting minutes
my internet takes regular coffee breaks
and the only tweeting is the birds outside my window
so I sit at my screen watching dots chase themselves in a circle
trying not to get toast crumbs
on my high tech keyboard
Written 16 Mar 2022
Pirate
Bold fierce
Swabbing, looting, fighting
Ship, flag, chair, remote
Sitting, yawning, sleeping
Lethargic, immobile
Gamer
Shiver me timbers
What's going on
I was dressed as a pirate
When I woke up this morn
I looked in the mirror
And let out an Arrrr....
I came equipped an eye patch
And a swash buckling Scar
I felt the strong urge
For grog, meat, and cheese
Went into the kitchen
Told the winch who lives with me
It's my new pirate attitude
That I have to thank
For the look that I got
And why I'm now walking the plank
When I arrived at the office
It wasn't the ship I'd hoped for
And security at the front desk
Barred me from bringing my saber to work
With all these modern day regulations
How's a pirate to get a break
When the only body of water nearby
Is a drainage ditch and man made lake
And the only pirate booty
That I'd hoped to see
Is right now swabbing the kitchen deck
While talking mutiny
Still the days barnacle adventures
Had a lot going on
As my head hits the pillow
I wonder what I'll wake up as tomorrow morn
Practioner of cons, grifts, & rips.
Swabbing a deck on a sinking ships
Inexorable in persistence
lacking all patience
Or any social boundary
LIE TO ‘GET’ then ‘GONE’
In love at first reflection
Vainglory incarnate/Vulgarly Gauche.
Options eluded but lacking choice.
Chances and trust
with you naturally obliterates.
Narsistic homophobe,
who only can hear
the sound of his own voice.
That superfluous verbal vomit that spills out those lips
(cork that flapping gash on your face)
Your sickness is inaffable,
not cute or funny, but sill laughable.
Come at me as pathos,
poor victims of circumstance.
Every insecurity revealed himself
in each pathetic comment
Collaterally Kidnapped ,
Mentally molested.
Finally finished we lock eyes again,
I grin, and laugh
‘This ones for you Glenn’
True happiness resides within each of us
We alone are responsible for our own well being
It is so easy to blame external forces, people, or events
But the bottom line is, we're the ones steering the ship
We're the Captain, the First Mate
Right down to the deckhand swabbing the deck
So here's my advise to all you nice people
Always, always think positive
The dark days are only temporary
Believe me, life is always about ups and downs
Endure the bad days... enjoy the good days
© Jack Ellison 2014
My car is really a boat.
I've tightened down the main mast,
And I'm swabbing the deck,
Staring at the plank,
Contemplating who to push.
In dreams, boats symbolize the body
As water does for life.
If my body carries a soul
And my boat skims across the water,
Shoving puddles aside and soaking
Nearby walkers,
I MUST LAUGH
Or I will falter and sink
Into the muck
Like those who have not earned their right
To drive.
Please
Do not bury me among the pompous
Ocean of faces,
Just because I laugh
At everything.
I remember walking among the sprayed
Sidewalks of Mastic Beach,
Laughing at myself
As no one was there
To laugh at me,
And since I know
How to laugh at myself,
I think I have earned the right
To laugh at you!
And if God can have a dark sense
Of humor,
Then so can I.
: )
A quiet man,
a good man.
An exquisite artist
in
watercolor.
Self taught.
As a sailor,
he was excused
from chipping paint,
swabbing decks,
or peeling spuds
by lighting up
when the Chief Boatswain
barked to his crew
“smoke 'em if you got 'em.”
Excused,
he put down his mop
his paint brush, or his knife,
and smoked.
Today, thirty years
later, he is dying.
He is breathing through a tube
in his throat
and laying in his bed
at home
waiting,
watching his last
football games
and waiting.
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.