When did I become the whipping post,
for your weaknesses and shortcomings?
You've plucked a few of my low moments.
Into an eternal mantra of all your defeats.
I never said I perfected the art of perfection.
I was never good at turning slag into gems.
If you really think I've totally failed, you.
That could very well mean you're a failure to me.
As they say, the apple doesn't stray far from the tree.
If you're dragging me down that broken glass path.
You can bet that you're going to get bloody with me.
Whipping post
Didn't you watch the on coming storm, alchalic words ! blew
Dry into my wired mouth , the art of conversation is stilled, while
Your streets soon boiled in fury , watched by A Queen in her linen and volts
A Doppler Queen, who feasted on broken wombs, swilled down,
Eased in its swallow, phlegm tears of the poor, street dogs
Tired eyes decades in the ruining, dripped like damp ochre leaves
Metal, stone, burned, smelt like flesh off the bone, her veil held dignity
Washed in a puss of lies, psalms hidden, in heavy false books.
And I watch through tired eyes of decades,
the crinkle cut ochre leaves parachuting gently
and with no choice to ground.
The tree has become seasoned and not opaque anymore,
in a light breeze its finger like twigs snap open the clear view beyond
And, i wonder, how many leaves have fallen pointlessly from my tree
Clearly the amount of leaves left swaying on my branches are foremost
In my waking dreams, thoughts, my roots still, and firmly covered.
In a child's blueprint
Most telling memories
Lay dead and buried
Prior to ghosts that torment him grown
The plain act
Of daydreaming
Has ways to call forth
A multitude of zombies from his past
Like a family friend playing father
After Dad's recent demise
Assisting the mother easily overcome
By her youngest boy dubbed Exceptional
Taken aside and told
He's really something
But aware it did not amount to a lot
Through the eyes of those most dear
Into Shape Whipping
Many moments we found which were gripping;
Our selves much better we can start equipping;
More than anything,
We do love to sing;
Now us into shape God is sure to start whipping.
By the way Bill which way was charming Billy Boy
going and where after he knew that God would
be there.
Whipping Boy
A whipping boy
Along with bully pulpit
Are both weird at times.
Jim Horn
Now lightly sweep the peppercorns in a harbour. No drama. But underground is not a gate nor a post for these are only really ever positioned on hallucinogenic coastal paths where time stands and the pattern ceaseless. Flowing. Great. It is often within hardship that the myth of the writhing cotton bud takes budgets to the ground with a swooping motion. Ejaculations from a sheeted field are never to be confused with a mouse's simple supper of cream crêpe. So skip then. Skip around. Jump up and taste that leaf. Before all is curdled in a gigantic jar of gold. Beast is best at breaststroke and in one solitary splash one can hammer on the web of woven time. Too much about fodder and not enough food. Happen upon a tree? Haha spinning an orbital melon around? Haha power position pointing plays ping pong. Xxxxx insecticidal Z z Z
BLUNDERS SO SAY
WHEN CONFRONTED BY THEM
DIFFERENT NAMES, SAME MEANINGS
PEOPLE OF THE NIGHT,
COLD BLOODED BEIGN
AS THEIR NAME IMPLY
PERCHANCE APPEARS IN THE DAY
IF CHANCE PERMITS
FORCING THEM TO SUCCUMB
TO THEIR PRESSURE
‘COS HOLDING IN HANDS
METALS OF DESTRUCTION
THOU FINISH UP IN A SECONDS
AK 47 RIFLES FOUND WITH THEM
JACKNIFES, CUTLASSES
GLITTERING IN THEIR HANDS
BLITTERING LIKE GALAXY OF STARS
WHEN NEMESIS HIT THEM
TURN AND TIE TO THE DRUM
OR POSSIBLY SET ABLAZE
PERCHANCE GAOLED TENS YEARS
FOLKS SEEING THEM WEEPING HOT
IF GOT TOLD THEY ARE HOODLUMS
THEY HEREBY WHIP THE WEEP…
Torrential downpour
Wind whipping inside and out
Destruction rampant
Russell Sivey
Entrant into SandyIvy Davis's "Hurricanes -Only Haiku" contest
11/6/2012
black ink shapes skitter in the road shade
in the tree shade under bushes into the dark
no streetlight
transform to running ink lines whipping whipping
away from the light
so fast eyes are deceived
yet every night under the moon
ink shapes skitter and shiver in place
race
past all we know
Whipping waves seethe blue
Tossing violent red sea
Green flows natural
One of many dark moments in America's History, home of the brave and the free.
A.W. Nutter
“Let the bullwhip sing”
“Stifling freedoms ring”
My sweat soaked shirt
Was quickly torn away
Fears dampening the dirt
I silently began to pray
My arms tightly bound
To a very large tree
No mercy to be found
I will never be free
“Let the bullwhip sing”
“Stifling freedoms ring”
A breeze caresses my skin
The whip will soon follow
His property committed a sin
My screams I try to swallow
The bullwhip slices the air
Skin separates with each lash
The pain more than I can bear
I scream as the master laughs
“Let the bullwhip sing”
“Stifling freedoms ring”
Why always must you be this way
All in Disarray... Wounded, weary target
These conquests are foolish ends you choose
You bare to bruise... Vulnerable, Volatile Heart
Profiling Men who suit you worst
Your romantic tastes, a burdened curse...
Lonely, Loving victim
Hearts they want just what they will
She wont learn until...Broken, Battered soul
Its I you turn to.. each time, Confide
But Cast Aside, your Caring, Competent friend
Each time I offer consoling thoughts
You go back to the place you fought
Relentless, Repeating game
My sympathy has become cool spite
This surly Knight...Brutal, Brazen thug
You found him and here starts the strife
This Heartbreak life!....Impulsive, Impetuous girl
Don't turn this way next time your burned
Girls make mistakes, and women learn
Messed-up, Masochist Fool!!
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