Weaving Through Traffic
Left lane
Right lane
Center lane
Storm drain
Hurry! Always hurrying
In White Rabbit fashion.
In and out and in again
Like a damned accordion,
Caution tossed into the wind
With multi-purple passion.
Cannot pause to meditate,
Can’t afford now to be late,
No time to consider fate or
Stop to smell the clover.
Cannot deal with hesitation,
No time to truck agitation,
Must belay this aggravation e’er
Hatter’s party’s over.
Pray for Divine intervention,
Even miracles are mentioned,
Puritanical intention
Offered as excuse.
Up ahead the traffic lessens,
Dormouse offers his confessions,
Thankful for such grand concessions,
Sad for the abuse.
Centered
In this blue funk
Self-righteous world it is
So easy to go off kilter,
To skew to the left,
Skid to the right,
Slip, slide and sashay on
Ice-covered pathways.
Every distraction demands
Just a little attention as
Everything multiplies and
Next thing you know all
Vision is lost and all that is left
Are the tears in your eyes.
Lying alone in your midnight enclosure
Lost as you contemplate
What might have been.
Looking for ways to get back to the center.
It never hurts to
Start over again.
Flair
Such panache,
Such flair,
Such a gift of gab has he,
Riding wave on wave of
Billowy praise for
Adoring eyes to see.
Love him, hate him or
Despise him with his cooing
Brooding eyes.
Catch the tone of
Innocence delivered in
His scathing lies.
Do not, cannot,
Will not fall
To his contemptuous snare.
For he is but a charlatan,
Although…
He does have flair.
Dennis Martin has written 13 plays –several of which have been presented as staged readings in the Baltimore Playwright’s Festival. He has written 800 poems and self-published a book of poems titled “Love and Passions” available at www.iuniverse.com and online bookstores. He has six poetry collections and three novels available at www.lulu.com/dsmartin. Read more about Dennis at http://www.iwritesome.com or blog with him at http://iwritesome.blogspot.com
Are We Having Fun Yet?
By Timothy J. Stewart
The Doctor says push just one more time,
Your wife says she can’t ‘cause she’s losing her mind
The nurse says a girl, do you want to bet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
The doctor says yes, we’re having fun,
Lookie here mister, you have a son,
The hospital says, now pay your debt,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
You change that first diaper and man it smells,
You wake up early morning to baby’s yells,
You put him on your lap, now your lap is wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Now, baby is headed off to his first day of school,
You turn you head away, cause you feel like a fool,
He’s got his backpack and all his new stuff,
And, in them blue jeans, he really looks tough.
You wipe you cheek and you finger gets wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Well, now he’s suited up for his first ball game,
He is all set to play, but it’s called for rain,
Why can’t we play, he says, why daddy why,
You look at your wife as he starts to cry,
You tell him, son, ‘cause the fields are wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Now, he’s on a stage in a cap and gown,
There are medals on his chest and trophies all around
You wonder why time has to go so fast,
You would give a million dollars to relive the past,
You wipe you cheek and you finger gets wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Then, you get a phone call in the middle of the night,
Your wife takes the call with a look of fright,
She covers her mouth as the tears hit her eyes,
And her lips kind of quiver as she says, --- SURPRISE!
Our baby boy has just had a son,
You look at your wife --- Now, we’re going to have fun
With Our Baby’s Son ------ Are we having fun yet?
Timothy Stewart is the author of a novel being published by Nightengale Press Positive Force—a book that offers teenagers a positive alternative to gang involvement. www.reachforyoredreams.com.
Replay Memory
By Feon Davis
I see you caress me
I feel your flesh against my
I am without a doubt overwhelmed
No, I am mostly dismayed
A replay memory within my mind
Could there be a replay of my heart?
As the adrenline flows, so does this love burning
I confess that, I do not want this to end
I want to feel your arms around me
And to walk with replay memories of us together.
Feon Davis (http://www.inthearmsofgod.com) is an inspiring writer and resident of Morehead City, North Carolina. She loves writing compassionate poems, rather Christian, inspirational. She started writing when she was nine years old. Miss Davis has published poems online for all to read along with a series of books, and gift items available for purchase at her site.
Music Man
Left lane
Right lane
Center lane
Storm drain
Hurry! Always hurrying
In White Rabbit fashion.
In and out and in again
Like a damned accordion,
Caution tossed into the wind
With multi-purple passion.
Cannot pause to meditate,
Can’t afford now to be late,
No time to consider fate or
Stop to smell the clover.
Cannot deal with hesitation,
No time to truck agitation,
Must belay this aggravation e’er
Hatter’s party’s over.
Pray for Divine intervention,
Even miracles are mentioned,
Puritanical intention
Offered as excuse.
Up ahead the traffic lessens,
Dormouse offers his confessions,
Thankful for such grand concessions,
Sad for the abuse.
Centered
In this blue funk
Self-righteous world it is
So easy to go off kilter,
To skew to the left,
Skid to the right,
Slip, slide and sashay on
Ice-covered pathways.
Every distraction demands
Just a little attention as
Everything multiplies and
Next thing you know all
Vision is lost and all that is left
Are the tears in your eyes.
Lying alone in your midnight enclosure
Lost as you contemplate
What might have been.
Looking for ways to get back to the center.
It never hurts to
Start over again.
Flair
Such panache,
Such flair,
Such a gift of gab has he,
Riding wave on wave of
Billowy praise for
Adoring eyes to see.
Love him, hate him or
Despise him with his cooing
Brooding eyes.
Catch the tone of
Innocence delivered in
His scathing lies.
Do not, cannot,
Will not fall
To his contemptuous snare.
For he is but a charlatan,
Although…
He does have flair.
Dennis Martin has written 13 plays –several of which have been presented as staged readings in the Baltimore Playwright’s Festival. He has written 800 poems and self-published a book of poems titled “Love and Passions” available at www.iuniverse.com and online bookstores. He has six poetry collections and three novels available at www.lulu.com/dsmartin. Read more about Dennis at http://www.iwritesome.com or blog with him at http://iwritesome.blogspot.com
Are We Having Fun Yet?
By Timothy J. Stewart
The Doctor says push just one more time,
Your wife says she can’t ‘cause she’s losing her mind
The nurse says a girl, do you want to bet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
The doctor says yes, we’re having fun,
Lookie here mister, you have a son,
The hospital says, now pay your debt,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
You change that first diaper and man it smells,
You wake up early morning to baby’s yells,
You put him on your lap, now your lap is wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Now, baby is headed off to his first day of school,
You turn you head away, cause you feel like a fool,
He’s got his backpack and all his new stuff,
And, in them blue jeans, he really looks tough.
You wipe you cheek and you finger gets wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Well, now he’s suited up for his first ball game,
He is all set to play, but it’s called for rain,
Why can’t we play, he says, why daddy why,
You look at your wife as he starts to cry,
You tell him, son, ‘cause the fields are wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Now, he’s on a stage in a cap and gown,
There are medals on his chest and trophies all around
You wonder why time has to go so fast,
You would give a million dollars to relive the past,
You wipe you cheek and you finger gets wet,
You look at your wife --- Are we having fun yet?
Then, you get a phone call in the middle of the night,
Your wife takes the call with a look of fright,
She covers her mouth as the tears hit her eyes,
And her lips kind of quiver as she says, --- SURPRISE!
Our baby boy has just had a son,
You look at your wife --- Now, we’re going to have fun
With Our Baby’s Son ------ Are we having fun yet?
Timothy Stewart is the author of a novel being published by Nightengale Press Positive Force—a book that offers teenagers a positive alternative to gang involvement. www.reachforyoredreams.com.
Replay Memory
By Feon Davis
I see you caress me
I feel your flesh against my
I am without a doubt overwhelmed
No, I am mostly dismayed
A replay memory within my mind
Could there be a replay of my heart?
As the adrenline flows, so does this love burning
I confess that, I do not want this to end
I want to feel your arms around me
And to walk with replay memories of us together.
Feon Davis (http://www.inthearmsofgod.com) is an inspiring writer and resident of Morehead City, North Carolina. She loves writing compassionate poems, rather Christian, inspirational. She started writing when she was nine years old. Miss Davis has published poems online for all to read along with a series of books, and gift items available for purchase at her site.
Music Man
Family Trance Uncles And Aunts
Santa Wears Baggy Pants
Holiday Wishes Energy Kisses
Love’s Our Music Man
Credit Card Stew
Destiny’s Flu
Overboard Shuffle
Candy Coated Truffles
Life’s Inner Brew
Is Calling You
(Chorus)
Family Trance Uncle And Aunts
Santa Wears Baggy Pants
Holiday Wishes Energy Kisses
Love’s Our Music Man
Another Tree
God Bless Thee
In a Haze
New Year’s Rage
Black Eyed Peas Power Seeds
Harmony Bees Are Calling
Please
(Chorus)
Family Trace Uncles And Aunts
Santa Wears Baggy Pants
Holiday Wishes Energy Kisses
Love’s Our Music Man
Mental Notes Hearts That Soak
Physical Matter Overactive Bladder
Glory Be Enlightened Me
Native Skin And Silly Grins
Now Is Mine Source Filled Mind
Time Is Clear Change Wears Ears
And Reindeer Gear
(Chorus)
Family Trance Uncle And Aunts
Santa Wears Baggy Pants
Holiday Wishes Energy Kisses
Love’s Our Music Man
Hal Manogue, Poet and Author of SHORT SLEEVES A BOOK FOR FRIENDS AND SHORT SLEEVES INSIGHTS shares his holiday poem, now turned song, with WITS community. For more information about Hal, visit http://www.shortsleeves.net. To blog with him, see http://halmanogue.blogspot.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment