Rust: Oxidation in Action!
~ Tamp down the excitement
Tympani, beat tremendous!
Like thunder roll above!
Dark matter a-tenebrous;
Knowest thou of love?
Ah, young master. In good time!
Riddles, rivers, rhyme!
Griddle, fiddle, sugar, slime.
Covert cold cut chime.
All right, sir, but in earnest;
Full, brass bull, trull, wool?
Summertime, hot clime, addressed!
Roundabout red rule!
Well, it's you two! Black and Blue!
So, what else is new?
Eggs a-light, serpents a-few?
Kittens blind that mew?
Knights of the nebula pond!
Elders strong and wise...
Mighty warlocks, wave thy wand!
Prize? Between the eyes.
Adepts of tomorrow!
Always? Skies and greys.
Surcease, students, all sorrow.
Living for todays!
Miles are marked for travelers?
Yes, and reason thus:
Reality whirs, then blurs.
Black and Blunderbuss.
Rain, pour poems on prophets.
Nerves heal as they warp.
O floodwaters, try Tophet's.
Sailors, tamp the tarp...
November 21, 1963
He took the harmonica
from the bib pocket of his overalls
blew thru left to right, low to high
back and forth a couple times,
slapped it on his palm
like he’d tamp his cigarette,
one of those unfiltered Camels
on his dulled dented Zippo.
He blew a quick riff up the scale,
inhaled it back down,
spun his harmonica around
slapped it a couple more times,
stopped as if thinking
about what he’d play
then smile that smile he’d smile
while looking at her,
start in on The Tennessee Waltz
watching her stand up, close her eyes,
hug herself and sway.
As he played he moved to her side
wrapping his left arm around her waist,
she draped both arms on his shoulders
and they glided around the living room
in a world of their own
viewed by us six kids,
all of us grinning and smirking
and making kissy faces
watching mom and dad,
mom singing the words
motioning us all up to dance
that night we stayed up late
that night before
president Kennedy was killed.
Beneath a callused skin of light
the hunched and mustered
clap a prayer between a leaking sight.
It is the earth that mourns itself,
whether baldly thrown or loamy laid
the silent soil repaints its sullied shrouds
far beyond any atoning sorrow,
or cooling heart.
It is none but a laboring pity
to lay down the past
as deep as a weeping sky allows
or raise a hand only to tamp down
a new-turned mound.
Restless are the skewing worms
ever churning a blood-born mud,
eyeless they cover the once begotten,
cloak a hard pressed present and loss.
as the missing
deafly retreat beyond our ken.
Hear now the trilling birds,
how they far-fling their buoyant hymns,
see how they hop between their own bones.
Cup of love
I create you
And consume you
Every day
Froth you
Grind you
Tamp you down
Extract all there is
From your little bean
Then I
Pour it into your frothy foam
And that first sip of heavenly you
Makes me love life
Yesterday I noticed
Your heart rose to the surface
After my first morning kiss
And I took a picture to show the world
Someone loves me
But as I was cropping and zooming
I noticed what I thought was a black hair
Running over your rim
Gross
Not mine
(like the ones left
on my pillow).
On further inspection
I realized it wasn't a remnant
Of... bittersweet
But you were cracked
From top to bottom
Broken
Broken thing
Can only broken things
Love me?
No, they can
Ans they do
To hold a butterfly and
Not hurt its wings
So delicate
I can't hold you closely
Even when you're so
Feathery soft
You tickle my heart
Fly--fly away--love
Before I break you
Or waste your magic dust
On anything that could drag you down
Like this cup that loves me
That I'm sure I broke in some
Clumsy manner
And never knew
Until it fell apart in my hands
Fly-fly away-love
You bring the tan and the gray to tamp my oranges and hot pinks.
My sun smiles at your dark moon, glad he is ancient and kind.
The kitchen cupboards laugh as you reach for your cup.
Knowing I am using it, to tease you, so you will love me more.
You have the smile that starts my engine and makes me purr.
I try to ignore it, but of course it is always there underneath my scowl.
As I pretend I no longer want you to chase me around the chairs.
Landing on the couch like giant puppies, silly for our age? No way!
You bring the rain and with it the couch cuddles and the coffee.
I run through the living room streaking paints in fluorescent hues.
Trying to see if you will notice the absence of clothes.
Of course you always do!
I am supposed to always be kind, nice, sweet.
But sometimes my werewolf gorilla she-wolf comes out.
I have to tamp her down, and pretend she is not ready to
Bite off a child’s leg or better yet devour his head.
Today in the lunchroom was one of those times
When a particularly irritating child threw something
past six tables into the trash and smirked.
I turned and saw the smirk and knew.
It was the smirk I recognized instantly.
The smirk from my youth.
An athlete used a condom
When she needed to repair
Her kayak, for in Tokyo
It suffered damage there.
She made a TikTok video,
Now viral, of her work,
Then won some medals thanks to
An Olympic Village perk.
Seems condoms are ubiquitous
For athletes at the Games,
With 60,000 given out.
(Can’t tamp Olympic flames!)
Most likely, no one ever thought
Their use could be so bold,
In unexpected fashion,
To help someone earn the gold!
I am a spastic dancer
exuberant with giant moves, arms and legs flailing
mirth and joy spin through my pores as I tamp and stamp
I am the utmost party animal
My grandchildren love it
Their mothers hide behind prissy cloth napkins
Pretending I did not birth them
Ah, to reminisce,
to peer through rose colored glasses
smooth the edges of
pointed encounters
tamp down the burning
embers of memory
smoldering in silent seclusion.
To change the tone
texture and import
of echoed retorts
polish the participation trophy
sitting alone on the shelf
knowing that time
does not heal
nor dreams dissipate
those moments
and yet….yes yet…
I question the roots
of such reminiscences
anecdotal recollections
based on the youthful folly
of ineptitudes inexperience.
For the older I get
the better I was.
John G. Lawless
3/18/2021
The day of courage has come, I'll tamp down our rage,
Take studies in strides as I re-new Truth's defense,
Steady the chapters, the verses of pen and page,
Embrace the tabled periods, make joyful sense.
No more brutal beast betrothed to my own bloodlust,
I have learned from feminine lessons, strategies,
Risen above corrosion, shaken off the rust.
I will combine our Gyres, my hard and her soft "G"'s.
No longer afraid of weakness, crying my tears,
What do you think, friends? "Are you having a laugh?"
No! I'll kindle intelligence, dam silly fears,
It's not just some split decision, no, not by half.
My former glory was spent on the outrageous,
Now's the day to be certain, to be courageous.
The normal joy of Christmas is dead in my house.
No enthusiasm or anticipation of laughter
It will be another day without family or friends
I may have a twinge or two of loneliness
But I will quickly tamp them down,
crocheting them into quilts of frolic and madness
The frolicking and madness of one.
One who can entertain herself easily
cartooning, painting, writing poetry,
and pretending it is not Christmas today.
If someone Zooms me, I probably won’t answer.
I will be too busy, playing.
Unless the loneliness creeps up.
Then I will Facetime someone.
Technology has become my new Santa Claus.
inspiring them one at a time
I phone my students
checking their feelings
the parents barely want to hand over the phone
needing a friendly voice themselves
so I try to uplift them too
school is not cancelled,
it is being reconstructed
I assure them it will work out
even when I have my own doubts
I tamp them down and bring
enthusiasm and encouragement to the fray
lifting them up one at a time
listening to their fears
soothing them the way others have soothed me
Chateau Charlene pulled out all the pins today
Trying to watch Cheeky Wall fall.
Cheeky Wall has had too much experience
Showing the world her sassy, funny, hilarious side
Keeping our true feelings inside
As deep down as possible
Emotions are seething from Cheeky Wall
Into the grounds of Chateau Charlene right now
Like snakes, they slither toward her foundation,
Trying to crack it, reveal her secrets.
These two are in a magnificent love-hate relationship.
Each trying to sabotage
And take down the other
When the kingdom falls
Will the truth be revealed?
Person alert.
Smile on face?
Pretend light in eyes?
Happiness showing?
Depression and despair in the dungeon gurgles up
In a bowl of black snakes and dead pussy willow leaves.
I tamp them down
So no one knows
“Hi!” we say.
A bit too brightly.
Luckily no one
cares or even
notices.
Flight songs have forsaken the lark,
where flood and fire forage the dark.
From coast to coast our prayer on wings.
O Lord have mercy the choir sings.
Firefighters on lawn, brave and tired.
Nurses pull long duty, admired.
Neighborhood ash forever stings.
O Lord have mercy the choir sings.
Gift the Golden West deft snowflakes.
Tamp down the spires of flaming snakes.
Extinguish breath the dragon brings.
O Lord have mercy the choir sings.
11/15/2018
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