Oh man alive, at sixty five
I’ve something to confess:
I never thought I’d find myself
such a befuddled mess.
It started out so innocent
inviting her to lunch;
the convo stayed mostly on track,
but then it swerved a bunch.
See, feeling coy, this stupid boy
thought he’d get cute and flirt.
From winsome one to two left feet,
a face plant in the dirt.
As I hit send, the doubt set in:
were those the proper words?
Whoever thought I’d be like this?
A grown man, how absurd!
The seconds pass like hours
as frets bloom full regret;
she’ll likely think the worst of me,
what do you want to bet?
And so, confused, I sit and stew,
increasingly perplexed.
But wait! I hear a joyful noise:
in came another text!
It doesn’t matter what it says;
she ended with a smile!
Thank goodness, I‘m still in the clear,
‘least for a little while!
At
first glance
found trouble.
We crossed that line,
turned off cruise control.
Gear shift wasn’t in park,
going down woke up the need.
We swerved all over each other.
Hanky panky just like our heyday.
Echoes of shrieks, we never stop at one.
Always prepare for the unexpected, as more often than not the unexpected will happen.
Always have a plan B, even better a plan C.
Quote by Poet.
I was heading into Death Valley to
deliver drums of oil to the research
station, a trip that I took every month,
our haulage firm called it the 'Hades run'.
The forecast was 129°f for that day,
all was going well when disaster struck,
a front tyre had blown and I swerved off
the road, Blast it I thought It’s all I need.
I reached for the cab radio that crackled
and then went dead and I cursed my luck.
An hour went by then two, I was beginning
to panic, no other soul on that lonely road.
Then the air-conditioning packed up and
the temperature rose in the cab and I got
out quick and into the shade under the truck,
and drank the two bottles of water that I had.
Six hours had now passed and I was struggling,
the heat was unbearable and I realised I’d
probably die.I thought I was dreaming when I
heard a voice shout, "Hey Buddy you okay there".
Soft spoken, the small grey dove,
far below the raptor’s eye,
flew low by a naked cliff-face
and thought it good to fly
and ride the rising winds,
forever looking down
at the world beneath her gentle wings,
unaware of falcon’s frown.
Then death came stooping down
at the pale bird far below -
the fastest thing alive -
prepared the killing blow.
For to cast into the wind
the feathers of his prey,
this fleshy missile on folded wings -
another death another day.
But the dove was much too canny
and swerved above a rock
at the very final moment,
falcon hit the earth in shock.
Instant death and gladly dealt
for between these birds, no love.
The falcon’s feathers blew that day
and the blow came from the dove.
My eyes swerved to someone
magnified my attention,
mesmerized in hyponsis,
felt like popping of faries bubbles down my mind,
couple of ladders to my comprehension,
I'm sliding smooth but hasty,
like adrenalin,
caught off guard.
Smelting of this cold layers on my motion,
lays softness to my curiosity
Thought future was fate determined,
yet this here shreded my expectations,
I don't know whether
I'm falling or drowning,
just can't seem to be landing,
I'm gobbling on gusts of my breath,
choking but in looping sequences,
sudden sinking to my understanding.
Can someone turn off this heat,
this wave burning and
pealing only in my presence,
just way beyond for me to contain.
Wish I could paint this image for the universe eye
but I'm without paint and brush,
in me is just some catastrophic
of epic proportions
#Poetic_Ink
Breakfast done, lunch so far away.
It's never too early or late for Elevenses!
Perhaps a seed-cake, sweet fragrant and so very proper.
Or a steaming currant bun, warm, light and spicy.
Oh perhaps the splendor of a freshly baked scone with jam and cream.
Or delicate petite fours scattered with remnants of a dream perchance?
Who stole the plate the strawberry tarts, red, tangy and sweet?
Or the short-bread creams rich in flour and butter, filled with icing?
All swerved with steaming tea, brewed in a pot, warmed in a knitted cosy!
It's ten past ten, how can we wait any longer?
For the clock to strike - Elevenses!
How exhilarating to observe
All around the white snow as it swerved,
Around the towering dark fir trees,
That grew richly on slopes in the breeze.
Below a small farm provided heat
Food was plentiful so that friends would meet.
The scene soon stopped, but there was still hope,
I took my toy and shook the snow globe.
Snow fell. The crib lit. I dreamt of a luscious feast.
It’s White Christmas again.
I wonder looking out the window how
it came to pass the car ran up a tree.
Let Mario Andretti take a bow;
its headlights glare and stare right back at me.
It seems that Granny shifted in reverse,
then swerved to miss the bike there in the yard.
Might be we need a wrecker or a hearse;
the Whomping Willow came down rather hard.
The bike, though surely frightened, is unscathed.
Though down a life, will soon take flight again.
And as for Granny, she is freshly bathed,
consoles herself with yet another gin.
We need to have that conversation soon;
for heaven’s sake, it’s not quite half past noon.
Oh Deer
Look deer, a deal.
Steering wheel swerved.
My meal on wheels.
Deer-ly Departed
Hunter hunted.
See there’s Freddy -
stopped dead in tracks.
Just Look Up Fool
High beam dreamer.
Should occur to
him; heir on roof.
Hibernation Hideout
Bern let cub go.
Small bear-throw safe
in fro-zen sleep.
I don’t like painting.
I don’t like to sing.
The hours I waste after school.
Make them think I’m a fool.
I chose to do nothing.
Even when my phone rings.
I cry when I hear a call.
They just want me to play basketball.
The calls go unanswered.
Like my prayers, the day we swerved,
And rolled down a hill,
I remember her body, still…
If I had a hobby…
Maybe that would help with the memories.
But these days, I let them consume me.
Because I was the one who hit the tree.
when off path have swerved
punished for crime when he curved
justice has been served
Our reindeer were all in a tizzy for they had been served.
Anyway, Rudolph had, with vigor as he flew in and swerved.
The process server said “my apologies” but he snickered a bit.
Apparently some old grouch on earth is now having a fit.
Claiming that Rudolph’s powerful nose blinded him for five weeks.
The claimant is totally unreasonable, it is big money he seeks.
How did he write the letter? Find the lawyer’s office? Asked Santa.
Rudolph was trying not to think of it, concentrating on his banana.
Yeah, said Blitzen. How dumb does this guy think we is?
Donner did not care, he ran off to yellow up snow with his whizz.
Dasher tried to give Rudolph some advice, but he always says things wrong.
I know said Dancer, let’s pretend it did not happen and have a tiny song.
So the reindeer created a Christmas song right there, on the spot.
And it was a hit around the world, so the greedy guy did get a lot.
But Rudolph decided to forever more wear a tight cover on his nose
For going to court truly is not comfortable, it “sort of blows”.
Turkey Days are often fraught
With tensions and with stress.
The harmony that’s always sought
Could end in quite a mess.
The fantasy of family fun,
With everyone on board,
Exists until the day’s begin
And someone feels ignored…
Or overworked or pushed aside
Or simply out of sorts
And then those feelings have to hide;
It’s time to watch some sports.
Yet dinner somehow will get served
And all will sit to eat,
The conversations gently swerved,
Avoiding any heat.
Desserts will come and with them, smiles;
Then clean-up and, I guess,
Another T-Day for the files,
Considered a success.
It’s been corrupted,
Even the learning systems in normality altered
The Innocence of examinations
Has swerved
Into Guilt of examinations
Exam malpractices everywhere!
Many students have sown the seed of levity
Which has grown into complacency
They, being carefree,
Are shamefully confident
They would cheat to the bull!
Assured their money could in qualms set them free.
Examiners have likewise injured the education routines of our country,
Even WAEC as a body
Of these –
In charge of its structures
They, like an engine that sucks tanks of oil,
So do they take bribes for scripts exchange
And manipulation of grades imputation.
Parents and guardians are fans of students and teachers:
Supporting their children,
And moderating tricks with teachers and examiners.
These exam malfeasances are done throughout:
From the class to external exams offices.
His song swerved
suddenly
missed the curve
and descended
into silence.
Still in Memory
Just a tall skinny kid,
only son from Columbus Ohio
graduated high school
long craggy face
no Cary Grant
just a tall skinny kid
from Columbus Ohio.
Drafted. World War II. Duty served.
Marines. Medic.
didn’t carry a gun.
just a tall skinny kid
from Columbus Ohio.
Survived two battles in the Pacific.
then Iwo Jima:
headed out to the wounded
Killed by a sniper's bullet.
didn’t carry a gun.
just a tall skinny kid...
Knock, knock, at her door.
Telegram for you, Ma’am. --March 1945
Sub Categories
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.