Pirouette Verse Contest
sponsor: Suzette Richards
24.9.25
_____________
ready for black belt test
green is the arena
protected by aura
fairy umbrella dewed
like teddy
eddy whorls
but steady
spready tail
winning wed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No I'm not stumped by a Cricket test
so here's my pitch
which creased me up it's my best
by the contender
who hit one for six the incumbent he
who shall not be named
(begins with 'T')
was bowled over and out
in 2020
of that there is no doubt
for by all scores
and there were plenty
(more than 81 million votes take note)
and what's more
based on his batting average
as a matter of fact
the latter was on a sticky wicket
and as for his later behaviour
no it's just not cricket
A blood test is never pleasant,
You have to be fasting, drink only water,
Move to the laboratory early in the morning
Say hello to unknown nurses,
It is necessary to endure an injection in the arm,
Watch your blood gush like a river
To fill, one, two or three test tubes,
Some sick people pass out,
But the hardest part starts when you leave,
We must wait for the results, good or bad,
So better not to think about it too much,
Go to the cinema to see a good movie.
A blood test is a headache.
“This heat clearly
has me beat,'
she said, 'it nearly
knocks me off my feet, and,”
then paused for a rest
long enough I deemed
for what seemed
an eternity
sufficient to warrant at best
a pregnancy
if not paternity test
which put me off my stride
as unable to read
the space between the lines
and in a quandary
not wishing to strain
the body and brain
or neurons scatter
within the grey matter
yet knowing who the boss is
decided to cut my losses
and as discretion
is the better part of valour
to make a confession
I gave up my place plus my seat
picked up the pace
and made a somewhat hasty retreat
Question everything.
Reality is slipperier
Than you might think.
Here, here
Have a drink of some electric Kool Aid
With me. Then, tell me what you think.
While our minds are free to explore
Reasoning and understanding goes
Right out the door and
Weird able too see
Why everything seems so basic.
Life is meant to be fun.
Slipperiness is seeing the world questioning everything, everyone and
Don't be so shocked at what you just might see.
Especially, with me.
Our final test will be graded
When our breath has dissipated
Life itself is our final test
Final grade when we’re laid to rest
Taking the test may make you snore
If you don’t care about the score
For the next one you’ll study more
Then it hits I’m dead on the floor
There’re no more chances to improve
That was the final my last move
What can I say when at the gate
Please let me have a later date
Your name is not here take a look
Only those saved are in the book
I see you wear a happy grin.
You are nice and kind when you win.
But, beaten, you now wear a bruise.
'Tis better to know how you lose.
Altho' I didn't study for my Rorschach test
when the proctor a doctor a shrink
evaluating my perception in search of insight
to discover what I might really think
handed me ten pictures on a card
I took a long hard look
then knew exactly what I did see
and did not blot my copybook
as often what you're gazing at
is simply (on the dot) precisely that
so it was not difficult at all
personally from where I sat
to pass with flying colours
and unravel this Gordian Knot
it wasn't a butterfly moth or bat
sometimes an inkblot is just an inkblot
She smelled like ozone
and old commercials—
the kind with jingles
you didn’t know you remembered
until your mouth sang along.
Plop, plop, fizz, fizz,
oh what a weird thing she is.
She stepped from the screen
once the static gave out,
a figure shaped
from tone bars and
missing episodes
and sort of resembled
Barbara Stanwyck.
Maybe she used to be
a transmission and
maybe she still is.
When she moved,
I heard weather reports
from cities I’ve never seen—
her breath a forecast
for forgotten places.
Whatever she was,
she sat on the floor
in front of the TV
watching a test pattern
while eating invisible cereal
from a real bowl
and giggling.
Was she supposed to be a Muse
daring me to write
a silly poem
about test patterns?
She rolls her eyes
in black-and-white bars
and shakes her spoon at me.
She flickers and fades
around the edges first—
like the corners of a dream
already forgetting itself.
The bowl remains.
The test pattern hums.
Somewhere, a jingle
begins to unravel
and I pick up my paper and pen.
If God is hateful
explain where love comes from.
If God is your equal,
define the body
and how each piece flows as one,
and recreate it.
If God is betrayal
convince me your life is done,
that you're not just undone,
but unfinished.
If God is pure punishment
explain replenishment,
recuperation
and recovery.
Your discovery of God is not set in stone
and neither is mine.
So give Him some time to show you these rhymes
are more than mere poetry,
not solely words on a page.
Go on and gauge what the 'h' this means for yourself
Your gold or diamonds will never match.
All of heaven's blessing of love and pure stuff.
You live for money and for fame and for stuff that only can be claimed.
For you cannot see that this is the test.
That love and time are the test.
Given to us by the Heavens best.
For as we grow and learn our paths.
We see all the roads that can be seen for our test.
We take each step, looking for the signs that fit us best.
Hoping we pass each test.
Time is very much like a RIVER
Throwing up GHOSTS to make us SHIVER
And leaves us sweating and COLD
How many like Faust have their souls sold?
DELIVERING webs so WICKED
With no return journey,life is but a one way ticket
That the mind freezes
And our world teases
So many with a tormented mind
From which rarely can they solace find
How can we escape this cold phantasmagoria
To translate it into full blown ecstatic euphoria ?
There never can be a proper escape
From time's oppressive chronological rape
Freedom provides the option
To thrive while unrestrained
By individual circumstances
By the self-serving demands of others
By our own compelling pain
Freedom provides an opening
For truth to roam free
Sometimes hurting, sometimes humbling, sometimes healing
Sometimes returning to its owner
A long-lost key
Freedom provides an opportunity
To test the boundaries of our souls
To examine the framework of our egos
To recalculate the sum of expenses
That renders us whole
Life is a test
What best for you
Praise for others.
journalism is objective by law
the decrease in legible statements is mathematically irrelevant to peaceful assembly
disruption of legislation is against the law.
how to correct young journalists? no press pass, press pass is test for editor to observe through french general assembly window if ink should be awarded.
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