by Dean Wood |
Categories:
spring,
White chevron squadrons usher in spring
With squawking and honking and flapping of wings.
Their return brings a weekend to revel in fun.
The locals all love it, and hundreds more come!
But the poor migrant snow goose must be sorely perplexed;
Revered on one weekend, then slaughtered the next!
by Eric Ashford |
Categories:
poetry,
He chose a face
that only his mad mother
would love.
He painted a tragedy
upon a crooked grin.
His mask was designed
to mug any real mirth.
His career-path
a honking mockery.
A blundering funster
who picked-up
a badgering prod,
that made it caper, and ha-de-ha
inside distorting mirrors.
When audiences thinned,
he became the dark intermission,
a curtain drawn
over a cloaked smirk.
Now we see him
swaying on street corners,
occasionally cackling,
much crazier now
then his sorrowing mom.
by Mick Talbot |
Categories:
onomatopoeia,
ONOMATOPOEIA
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
all live onomatopoeia of the night
howling, mewing, twit twooing, screeching, onomatopoeia
all live onomatopoeia of war
banging, booming, rat tat tat tating, screaming, onomatopoeia
all live onomatopoeia of woodland
tapping, flapping, singing, rustling, cawing, onomatopoeia
all live onomatopoeia of farmland
bleating, mooing, barking, honking, nighing, onomatopoeia
all live onomatopoeia of love making
sighing, sighing, sighing, sighing, Y E S, onomatopoeia!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
by Jack Ellison |
Categories:
fun,
Honk if you love sex, the sound would be deafening
Not much chance the honking would start lessening
By the grins on your kissers
And the stroking of your whiskers
It's brightens your day and was really refreshing
© Jack Ellison 2015
by Misty Thomason |
Categories:
hope, lost love, people,
Here they come all that chrome,
roaring through the streets
Waving and honking as the crowd
shouts their love for a special angel
Celebrating a hero of our hometown,
A little girl taken to early by a man who
should have never been free,
A father willing to fight for our children
Riding hogs through several towns
5,000 in all pointing the way
For all to hear
Jessie's Life will not be in Vain
by Eric Ashford |
Categories:
poetry,
The sun is illustrated in pastel hues
washed in a watery light
Mild is the air in my mouth
Standing at the roadside
of a flock of honking family vehicles
I wonder if they are going to church
or leaving church
It's Sunday morning
in the burb's and naturally
God has His hands full
I go visit a little pond
where frogs sing their
creaking love-woos
to lure green lovers
up from the muddy bottom
For a meditative moment
we join in prayer
by Tom Bell |
Categories:
angst, education, life, nature, places, boy,
Sure 'nuff...
We get use'd 'a,
Places we was brought up in,
Seems more natural than not,
Having lived on the outskirts
Of JFK airport,
To fall asleep to the song of
Jumbo jets roaring just overhead...
Most natural to me...
Now it's the country silence
To keep me awake...
Occassional distant train whistle,
On the periphery of sound,
Geese honking choir,
Flying above ground...
Soon I'll love these sounds
that most adore....
Unless I die first...
Of a life now so a bore."
by Patri Venkata Ramana |
Categories:
happiness, rain, rainbow, sky,
arch of rainbow
spreading across the firmament
filling joy and love everywhere
honking peacock stretching train feathers
while dancing presents an
arch of rainbow
marching like troops
fluffy clouds with bulged bodies
spreading across the firmament
drizzling all over
whimsical music of showers
filling joy and love everywhere
Place : 1st
by Eric Ashford |
Categories:
poetry,
He chose a face
that only his mad mother
would love.
He painted a tragedy
upon a crooked grin.
His mask was designed
to mug any real mirth.
His career-path
a honking mockery.
A blundering funster
who picked-up
a badgering prod,
that made it caper, and ha-de-ha
inside distorting mirrors.
When audiences thinned,
he became the dark intermission,
a curtain drawn
over a cloaked smirk.
Now we see him
swaying on street corners,
occasionally cackling,
much crazier now
then his sorrowing mom.
by Bobby May |
Categories:
time,
Creativity is positively a must in your mind
A wind chime brings tones of rhyme
Clinging one tone at a time touching your ears
A cats meow or a cow can give you the depth you need
A bird’s tweet going peep, peep brings a pitch of love
Cars honking and big rigs running will stop your thinking
But the wind blowing with lighting hitting turns the volume up
The moon and the stars brings love to your mind
A fireplace with snow on the ground a crackling sound of peace
Children running and screaming gives you no peace
Soft music with candles will bring romance
But a voice calling honey take out the trash
It’s time to stop written poetry
by Eric Ashford |
Categories:
poetry,
He chose a face
that only his mad mother
would love.
He painted a tragedy
upon a crooked grin.
His mask was designed
to mug any real mirth.
His career-path
a honking mockery.
A blundering funster
who picked-up
a badgering prod,
while he capered
inside distorting mirrors.
When there was no audience
he became the dark intermission,
a curtain drawn
over a cloaked smirk.
Now we see him
swaying on street corners,
occasionally cackling,
much crazier now
his hands dripping blood,
but on the upside
he is doing very well
at the box office.
by John Campbell |
Categories:
first love, happiness, high school, together,
A shopping mall resides where the drive-in theatre used to be
After a long week of school excitement builds for the movie we are going to see
My girlfriend awaits my arrival out on the grass
Trying to spare me from another lecture from her dad happy to pass
The gates open the big screen awaits
Feature film a love story surely to impress my date
Exiting the car into the cold night air
I return with an assortment of goodies for us to share
Horns start honking the speaker starts to vibrate
Trumpeting a night of fun I can hardly wait
Let the show begin as our bodies slide closer together
Another great night at the movies sure to remember
by Unseeking Seeker |
Categories:
introspection, spiritual,
Driving the wrong way on a one way street,
struggling and yelling and honking the horn,
no smiling faces do our crassness greet;
booked by the police, their looks very stern,
whilst weary for wear, dents our car adorns.
Likewise in life, if doing self serving,
joys seem fleeting whilst sorrows long lasting;
orbiting vague fears and desires egoic,
by self-blocking love throb vivifying,
we feel trapped thus in life currents cyclic.
28-October-2020