Smeared In a pattern.
This Rorschach abstraction.
Flowing like satin.
In cascading fashion.
Symmetry, mimicry.
Mirroring the mind.
Coddling, throttling.
Either or is fine.
Full to bursting.
Ache encephalitis.
In many minds of how this building
pressure will ignite us.
"Ticky tacky" tinderboxes.
Longing for the flame.
Effigies of rememberance.
Not all burn the same.
The beauty of the sanguine bloom,
detonator primed.
T-minus the countdown.
Get on with the ride.
Functional, nominal.
Broken by design.
Apathy, empathy.
Whatever's left is mine.
In written depiction.
This Incessant chatter.
An empty inscription.
For a mindless matter.
“Little boxes on the hillside; Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes on the hillside; Little boxes all the same”
from first verse of “Little Boxes” by Malvina Reynolds
Vanilla Is . . .
the typical white picket fence
surrounding the front yard of a ticky tack house
It’s a sunless sky
waiting for a rainbow to embrace it
It’s an ordinary bird’s egg
before the burst of life emerges from it
It’s a pie without the fruit;
a cake with no frosting
It’s the color of eyes grown dull
longing for a glimpse of romance
It’s my skin untouched by summer -
still breathing winter’s snow
It’s the quickly fading fragrance of inexpensive cologne
as Tabu's more sensuous scent lingers on and on
It’s a milky white-washed soul
of unexceptional interest
It’s a lackluster longing
for nothing in particular
As I see it, vanilla is
the epitome
of monotony
Hicky tricky
De do DA uoo
Honds mee ear all nit looon
Ther noo pce o tha Minn
Hicky tricky mee ll tha nit
Ounds off restet dooog bunches us off
Nooo ghtt of mooo to avvvail
Ioses foom naighboitrs noo keeps to USS all not
Hicky tricky
Meee ll
scritter scitch scitter scitch
dog’s tapping down the hallway to breakfast
crinkle criggle crink
opening the cereal
whirr whirr whirr
juicer is working
hump thump bump
cat throws herself against door, reminding us to feed her
bird speak greets me
tweet peep ticky ticky ticky
slee shee slee shee caw caw
robins, cardinals, and now a crow
ra tat ra tat
woodpecker gets in on the act
ur ur ur ur oooooooohhhhhh
neighbor’s rooster
zzzz zzzz zzzz
I close the door quickly, a wasp!
'Tick', 'tock', 'tick', 'tock', the ticky-tocky click of the clock continued to beep
'Ree-raw', 'ree-raw', the roaring of the frogs was heard over and over in the deep
I stood awake to solve a riddle, a jigsaw puzzle, denying my eyes of sleep
Caged in a cottage of low rentage my wage could pay, hoping I did keep
'Ko', 'ko', 'ko', 'ko', was the jangly sound from the corner where the roof did leak
Hitting hard my tympanum as the woodpecker does the tree with its beak
"Oh no!, I'll have to go" were the very words my sullen mouth could speak
Indeed!, first thing before noon, it was the Thatcher that I'll have to go seek.
By the gloating rocks once its refuge,
The sun wallows in scarlet rages;
Glovers at the ticky-tacky cages,
Who feel naught of the coming deluge
From the lurching stream that knows no rest.
Each ripple is a Mont Blanc unsung
With snow-hunches grown out of dark grace,
The cragginess of each jagged face;
Burnt with the weight of burdens unflung,
More formidable than Everest
Blades of grass growing out of cement,
They ever knew passion, knew the pain
Of lorn oaths broken oft and again;
Thus Marianne from her Sherwood rent,
By the dripping of socks found her quest
As her sister shed a skin of ice,
And tucked it under an arm to walk;
Glided on water in flesh of chalk,
To see her crush pigments like head-lice,
Wring back stolen blood with savage zest.
[Written in response to Women in Black, by Marianne von Werefkin]
[First published by The Ekphrastic Review]
Ricky-ticky-tick
Ricky-ticky-tack
It's nutritious food we lack...
Fee-fi-fo-fum
I smell the blood
of a malnourished orphan
How many more springs will be granted.
Springs where seeds and flowers are planted.
How long will the filthy rain sustain the vigor
Of tender shoots so green and innocently eager.
We spew out human seed to take root on earth,
Lessening its space, its value and its worth.
How long until we are world of ants scurrying,
Everything trampled by the constant hurrying.
We have chipped the beauty away into rows
of ticky-tacky houses where nothing grows.
Where are the jungles, the forest primeval.
Not now but air and water that are lethal.
Oh, mourn the earth of beauteous expanse.
Now no beauty can be found with a glance.
Mayhaps we will survive - but maybe not. . .
between progress and the lessons taught.
Sleep well sweet Earth, beautiful orb.
How many more springs will be granted.
Springs where seeds and flowers are planted.
How long will the filthy rain sustain the vigor
Of tender shoots so green and innocently eager.
We spew out human seed to take root on earth,
Lessening its space, its value and its worth.
How long until we are world of ants scurrying,
Everything trampled by the constant hurrying.
We have chipped the beauty away into rows
of ticky-tacky houses where nothing grows.
Where are the jungles, the forest primeval.
Not now but air and water that are lethal.
Oh, mourn the earth of beauteous expanse.
Now no beauty can be found with a glance.
Mayhaps we will survive - but maybe not. . .
between progress and the lessons taught.
Sleep well sweet Earth, beautiful orb.
There once was a bridegroom so wacky
His tuxedo was made of green khaki
His bride screamed, "Ee gad!"
Then went raving mad---
Her wedding ring was pure ticky-tacky
Moshe, Larry, Curly,
Howls, cries, nyuks;
Three silly comic stars:
Smile, clown -- Cluck!
Chico, Harpo, Benny, Berle,
Moron grins, happy chins;
Crazy nutty comic kooks:
Funny jokes -- egads zooks!
Alvin Ailey, dance gaily,
False teeth: Brush daily;
Silly Sally, Dilly-dally,
Ollie, Holly, Mollie!
Belly flops, fatal plops,
Messy slops, lemon drops;
Harry Caray, Tooth Fairy,
Music Maven -- Chuck Berry.
Pitty-patty, kitty-katty,
Ticky-tacky, Cinci-nnati
Polly-Wolly, Wooly Bully,
Diffy-daffy, Laughy Taffy!
March 22, 2018
Contest entry in "A little laughter five," sponsored by
Edward McCall, closing date - March 23, 2018
Notes: Moe Howard's (of the Three Stooges) actual first name was Moshe.
'Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk' was a trademark line of Curly (3 Stooges.)
Berle is comedian: Milton Berle (aka 'Uncle Miltie').
'Egads zooks' is an exclamation my mother and others of her
generation used to use (frequently).
'Wooly Bully' was a pop song by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs,
released in 1965; it soared high on the Top-40 charts.
(to be read out loud)
I'll eat the nibble naggle nooky nickel
nipple nappy mum mum mum
I'll chew your gooble gobble giggle gaggle
gimpy grampa's gum gum gum.
I'll call the wimpy wappy wiggle waggle
wacky wobble wum wum wum
I'll drink the wiggin' wimple whoopy whacker
wookie worker's rum rum rum.
Woo wow wee wah
Geegaw mee mah
Hee haw hoo har hey hey hey.
Mao moo mud muck
Wigwam poobah
Mad mook mick mack yay yay yay.
I'll have a murky muddle maple maggot
monkey marbles chum chum chum
I raised a ticky tacky tinky tonka
tailor's tiny thumb thumb thumb.
I'm really punky pickled pooka puckers
pitter patter dumb dumb dumb
I hear my diggle daggle doggy dingle
diddle daddled hum hum hum.
Ticky Bicky Boo
Licky Mickey Moo
I'm in love with you
Little Tsuki Tsu.
Chicky Dicky Doo
Ricky Nicky Nu
Close your lips with glue
Kiss a kangaroo.
Tricky Picky Poo
Quicky Hicky Hoo
I'll practice Wu Shu
By a shady yew.
Wicky Kicky Ku
Yucky Sticky Stew
Visiting the zoo
Painting chickens blue.
what goes around...
human bombs wait with fundamentalist patience
to wipe us from the earth as infidels
for polluting paradise
shocked disbelief rises like smoke from 911
hovers over ticky tacky boxes
morning coffee,
last night's discarded
plastic wrapped
lost generation
all for the flush
spindizzy in a clock-wise vortex
stare out through a green dollar haze
and miss the point again
If we could go back
into a pale instinct
of flowers and love
and open fields
with sunshine much burning above
And i write so quick
dont really show it to anyone
thousand of poems
building up
like ticky tacky homes
so what is life but virtue,
to exist to create
how could you even fake it
terrible thing for soulless souls
to walk along
not doing anything
except breathing the wrong air
of despair and sadness
well society
can you help me???
cause fact is
I AM-
too intelligent
talented
and smart
to live in your crooked bombing
air planes crashing
gun shooting
media obsessed world
You have to realize
that a citizen of the united states
wants to run
as far away from here
if donald trump gets elected,
I will be gone
somewhere far away from
the utter nonsense.
Im an artist and i dont look back
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.