The blur was green or maybe grey
That past his turgid senses flashed.
The skin would burst soon anyway,
All his tastes and visions smashed.
Grey or green, most perplexing, yes.
The membrane full, his senses stretched.
To smash the wall would cause a mess,
He'll look and search, with nothing fetched.
Green or grey, but could be blue,
Now the cover will surely burst.
An idea, but what to argue?
Must determine the colour first.
Grey or green, did he see a pink?
There's something missed or maybe hopped.
It's now he teeters on the brink.
Be careful now, it could have popped.
"O, joy", he cries, he's found it out,
Not pure and single colours seen.
The pressure's gone, a welcome spout,
He's stemmed again what should've been.
Pouring the verbose
into cracked moulds.
Pride teeters up close—
poets’ wisdom holds.
My mind teeters on a cliff of eroding dust and pebble.
Above, the light shines, a rebel to the dust and pebble.
Below, the chains tighten around my frame,
as jagged rocks claw through flesh and name.
The sea smashes through me; | lie gasping for breath,
a whisper away from the clutch of death.
My mind fixates on the constant pummelling,
my thoughts tunnelling,
like honey funnelling,
the future muddling,
but the heart humbling
as my mind teeters on a cliff of eroding dust and pebble.
The brunt of me.
Ends up bursting and unsalvageable.
Maybe I have another pill in the corner of my mind.
Just churns into the slop.
And lets out a bellow.
Everything about depression.
Just teeters around in a crusty way.
But it is thorough.
Is loving as a centipede.
The brunt of me.
Doesn’t end, just creates spots in my eyes again.
Bursting and unsalvageable.
I had a plan to build a new mind out of blades of grass.
It stayed up longer than expected.
The skyline cuts through faded tones,
With moonglow blazing gilded bronze
And fluid my ink is interlaid
As nightfall drifts like a peace shroud
The glass pane teeters in the breeze
With my pen zigzagging on damp papyrus
I hear an old couple laugh on the alley
Their banter rolling , perhaps, of younger times--
Across them, a lone man trots, forlorn
His bent spine enduring road's travail,
Leading his wobbly feet to tangles of blooms
While egrets scuffle homeward bound.
My mixed thoughts wander at this picture show
...Receding off so gradually
From the tip- tap screech of cobblestones
To my pane's sill, fingers reach for verses
Where each day is a page to write new stories
About jagged yet sleek edges of time's folly
My hands sinking into tattered phrases, kneading
Recitals of life with unknown episodes.
what he says you have to try and swallow with a dump truck load of salt
sure, his colorful stories seem credible, plausible, some even probable
But I know him better than most of you, I am his relative.
His embellishments and entertaining exaggerations could appear
on Faux News.
For what he has to say teeters between alternative facts, tall tales and lies.
Propped up on willpower strong
Wants and needs in war prolong
Tested far beyond my means
Clinging tight to hopes and dreams
Each day teeters on near collapse
Strength in danger enabling relapse
Endless trials pain and sting
What new battle will tomorrow bring?
Hush o'er azure stone ridge,
hypnotic wax moon dash,
wispy crescent rustle from,
a piebald furry deer,
nocturnal stealth enshrouded,
silver tint antler scoops,
limp orange leaf detritus,
canopy of maroon ink,
black mist dewdrops spill,
corral Northern Bobwhite quest,
shuddersome elk teeters on,
bituminous coal summit,
cast a pearl oyster glance,
into an uncanny precipice,
enigmatic phenocryst ravines,
spellbound immersive trickle,
species of the dome shape,
muted in clandestine trot,
oe’r mushroom quandary in crossing,
to slink away the eerie stillness
Teensy tiny toad totally teeters on a goblet edge
In this prissy uppity restaurant! Screamed unappreciative Sedge.
The prices are outrageous! This toad is ruining my meal!
His blind date thought he was acting like a bit of a heel.
He wanted a refund, demanded the chef come their way.
His date, who had brought the toad, quickly ran out and away.
I guess I am the best gauge of character, the tiny toad said.
Yes, she agreed. I love it that you are always here for me, Ned.
What is this world coming to, I ask,
Where hearts grow cold, and hopes unmask?
A realm once blessed with unity's grace,
Now teeters on the edge, a fragile space.
Gone are the days of tender connection,
Replaced by walls, of isolation, protection.
Technology's grasp tightens its hold,
As loneliness festers, untold.
In the glow of screens, we seek a thrill,
But lose touch with what's truly real.
Fake facades and filtered dreams,
We find solace in virtual streams.
Where compassion ends and anger begins,
Injustice triumphs, morality thins.
Wars persist, tearing nations apart,
Could love ever heal these broken hearts?
Nature weeps, in quiet despair,
As greed consumes, without a care.
Species vanish, forests wilt,
The earth's plea, we've come to guilt.
Yet, amidst the chaos, a whisper remains,
For within our souls, a flame still burns,
A longing for peace, a lesson to learn.
So let's mend the fractures, one by one,
Bridge the divides, until we are done.
Embrace our differences, let kindness lead,
Rediscover the unity our world so needs.
traffic lights
amber moon
heart ticking over
here the head teeters
breathy fumes
flood the face of the road
there are other wheeled minds
in this static world
other's waiting
to go
and the gone
are gone forever
curbside
cats stare
going nowhere
Contest: Brooding Nimbus Sponsor: Edward Ibeh 6-19-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Brooding Nimbus
Midnight trails a filmy brooding nimbus,
Idle shadows etch lines on the daylight;
Vertigo lingers, teeters on limbus,
Distorted ghosts escape into dawn’s sight.
Remnants of realms, inborn of misshaped clouds,
Ruminate raindrops to bleed the bizarre
Palpable phantoms the mid-day enshrouds -
Reclines as shape-shifts in murmuring stars.
Hobbled memories drifting unresolved,
Surrealistic needles stab dazed eyes
Fretting repines, floats in veils unabsolved,
Fades slowly into the unanswered why.
Slowly day chases back mystic extremes
Evening broods in misty nests of new dreams.
At the Depot
As the snow flies, on a cold and grey December dawn
to waiting homes no mails are borne
from the depot.
Phil Bloggs, a mailman, scans the news
but his screwed up tabloid gives him the blues
saying 'To compromise both sides refuse,'
at the depot.
Hark! Foxes, stray cats, rats, critters all.
though humans languish, have a ball
in the depot.
On letters, parcels and Christmas boxes
little mice play, as do foxes.
Such a sight you never saw.
as stray dogs chew and rodents gnaw
in the depot.
What fleshpots in sealed parcels beckon
hungry vermin, who can reckon
in the depot?
What meaty dish, what luscious pie
teeters in a box stacked high?
No robber cries 'stand and deliver'
though many freeze and many shiver.
Phil Bloggs turns to another page
and what he reads puts him in rage
in the depot.
For guns and rockets billions go through
but for impoverished nurses barely a sou
in the ghetto.
Being in a crisis isn’t what hurts.
Once the crisis recedes-
The mistakes I forgot in the process will wash up.
I realize that I am only creating promises that everyone sees as burdens.
I make the kind of sacrifices that everyone else only imagines they could make-
For no reason except to prove that I am the chosen one.
All I have done is scare people-
Because I allow passion to become chaos.
Trying to throw this world off balance.
As if that alone is enough-
But this world teeters on quiet destruction.
That a person like me is only meant to observe.
Whatever turns your crank
Whatever tickles your pickle
Whatever dunks your donut
Whatever waxes your dolphin
Whatever buffs your buddha
Whatever pops your cork
Whatever pets your monkey
Whatever frosts your cookies
Whatever spills your pills
Whatever trips your trigger
Whatever humps your camel
Whatever melts your chocolate
Whatever peels your onion
Whatever chafes your carrot
Whatever flops your mop
Whatever rocks your socks
Whatever teeters your totter
Whatever milks your goat
Whatever pings your pong
Whatever peels your banana
Whatever blows your nozzle
Whatever tips your canoe
Whatever flicks your switch
Whatever zips your zipper
Whatever blows your stack
Whatever... whatever... whatever!
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