Percolating, who we, I’m just relating
Relaying the conveying of alarming apex
Son’s getting hotter, sending flares, scorching heirs
The roof is on fire, but folks serving gas in meme
Unleaded or maybe I’m just fed up in believing the lies
Telling me mines don’t matter, from cats living fatter
Digging deeper than the greeting of slaps of five
Laid down a line, reverberating sublime, wind chimes
Chasing dog-gone familiars to frailty in comforting confines
Same ole, same old, just ain’t that old, as far as we go
No more, I know more, looking at a latch off unlocked doors
Mirrors from ceiling to floors, stylishly prefaced or just pre-fab
Looking glass, shatters from just one blinking, 2b thinking in turn
Thoughts never random, so I hand them pieces of rind to define
Seasoned for taste, or just aroma, smelling like wake up all baked up
Reeling off feelings, fleeting yesterdays, recalled to question or lesson
All in the daze, our revolution could never just be a faze, even nowadays
So watch out and peep the come around in what’s happening again…..
what is love?
if lust is must avoiding being hurt.
Thus, be taught
the thought is fought when oriented
by lots in events that flagellates
the tough innermost instinct.
Whereas, some beings feel unleaded,
we fret ,they flee
on a fraught forlorn freight from fear,
forced not to succumb to flair.
For I fear not that frail tear
affiliate me forth till I find not fur on foxes.
what makes us not?
usurping in love's flux
on the augment phase
it's prurience and vaults
same as lubricious cause
let's be true, to me and you
28th of April 2018
There was a headless horseman one day
he was probably a norseman I’d say
they’re caffeine wedded
should drink unleaded
Dem Norskies get carried away
Sunday morning tempted me out to the beach
As the sun tumbled down its' white warmth
Splashing glisters of light on the near flat water;
Paparazzi pools of a million flashbulbs.
The morning of the last day of the weekend
Tipping point between relaxation and drudgery
Hours of indulgence line up for their embrace;
Hip pockets of foreboding at their climax.
Early morning dog-walkers greet huskily
Willingly trapped in the endless cycle of pet love
A petrol blue Labrador bunkers about;
Unleaded freedom amongst the beach grass.
Turning, the old train line left-frames the scene
Coarse grass yields to sand and sea
Near distant the old village shop and pub;
Blytonesque imagery from my childhood.
Returning home to my lazy Sunday brunch
Coherent and intelligible thought pervades
Deliberations on tomorrows' toil dissipate
As I resolve to live in todays' jigsaw piece.
Returning from a one-sided
love affair
on a full tank of unleaded love.
It didn’t help matters much
with Roy Orbison singing
“It’s over” on the radio;
I made an attempt to turn it off
but I just couldn’t do it.
I was masochistically mesmerized:
hearing only his voice
lamenting its familiar, few last lyrics:
“It's over, it's over,
it’s over… it’s o...ver.”
Indeed, it was!
on the long drive to change,
i didn't know at the time
when the realization came,
i was literally shaken clean
from the aged norm of my reality
on the defining interchange to new
scenes and settings, i was honestly
taken aback by being cared about
and given such a rare opportunity
for careful reconstruction
shocking was the journey and the discovery
of myself that i never thought i would learn
about through actual experiences that left
me healthily greedy for more and more each
day
on the next wave of a planning session,
i am now my own travel agent for more
than one and i never expected to be
such a ready participant or such a
determined trooper
i think it is the combination of memories and
loneliness in dark times that attributes to our
newborn, newfound passion
the fruit of the joy it brings keeps our juices
flowing and growing for the next anticipated
discovery
what once was is now 87 unleaded gasoline
and very dependable navigation....the map
of our lives....the reigniting of our once limited,
sectional, and broken tonalities
I live in a house
with roaches and a mouse
that I can never catch.
I live in a house
with a Louse.
Shes a loud mouth drunk.
I can't take this anymore!
Outside I lean against the trunk of a tree
and Think about dowsing that house
With regular unleaded.
but I CAN'T!
I still love that woman!
who lives in that house
with roaches and a mouse
that I can never catch!
Copyright 2011 JohnnyPaul Davis
Fluttering softly
patterns of lighted stained glass...
butterfly marvel.
For "Haiku Me Some Nature, Please" contest sponsored by Constance La France.
By: George Aul
Complaining - the price for sure!
The brand of the gas not pure...
TP was Gold then
In line like a hen...
Would love to give his rash cure...
for Carolyn Devonshire's contest
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