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Cana Aug 2
Ripples riddle the mirror,
Below, faint shapes shift
Elegant forms float here and there,
Little legs thunder, leaving a gentle wake
in lieu of turmoil.

The air is thick, the sun falling,
Already lost behind billowing storm clouds
Etched chaotically on the horizon.
Invisible but for the ubiquitous light.

It is the dragonflies time,
A darting zip and an effortless flutter.
From surfacing **** to towering Reed,
Searching for something we can only pretend to know.

Determined housewives, faces set,
Arms pumping and hips swaying
Their Anatidean waddle so fitting
Their quacks, a wall of stereo.

A lone rusted sign warns of gators,
but of signs, there is that one alone.
No rogue bubbles or beady eyes,
no ticking of swallowed clocks,
no suspicious splashes.
nothing.

My battery is now as low as the sun,
and my pen is as empty.
A not so subtle poke in the ribs
from a universe in protest of the
bad poetry being inked.

c'est la vie
or as we say in English
**** it
Tuesday evening park sit. Waiting, watching, and stuff.
I wrote his sober, so I cannot be held accountable.
Emily Jun 26
My grandmother had the face of a duck
My mother has the body of a duck
And I am happy like a duck
Can't remember the last time I got paid
Lost my worldly goods
Now I am stranded
By the house on the water

The river is the only thing
That moves real fast
As time nestles in.
Life seems normal
On the water
Like an everyday occurrence

I got laid last night
Drew my mind-set around my body
Down through my toes
The river keeps coming from nowhere
More and more
My mind is reeling like a movie
From your touch last night

The morning starts
With mist on the water
The wintery bare trees
Hold the mist at bay
Like a man sitting smoking
In a dim and crowded room
Just waiting for something
Gray and bad-lunged
And slow to move the day along

That cold sun pulls back
The ice like curtain
Man, you got to see the sun
Another day by the water
And I ain't got no work and no pay

By midday no one's calling
But the ducks that skim the water
The rocks can't hold back the river
Hushing sound of water
I try to think of something else
But baby, your power
Has me someplace else

Picture you ***** as you were
Got to have you, got to be there
All the time
It's your distance
That keeps killing me
And the waiting by the river

Call you, got to call you
From the house on the water.
Can't remember the last time I got paid
Lost my worldly goods
Now I am stranded
By the house on the water

The river is the only thing
That moves real fast
As time nestles in.
Life seems normal
On the water
Like an everyday occurrence

I got laid last night
Drew my mind-set around my body
Down through my toes
The river keeps coming from nowhere
More and more
My mind is reeling like a movie
From your touch last night

The morning starts
With mist on the water
The wintery bare trees
Hold the mist at bay
Like a man sitting smoking
In a dim and crowded room
Just waiting for something
Gray and bad-lunged p
And slow to move the day along

That cold sun pulls back
The ice like curtain
Man, you got to see the sun
Another day by the water
And I ain't got no work and no pay

By midday no one's calling
But the ducks that skim the water
The rocks can't hold back the river
Hushing sound of water
I try to think of something else
But baby, your power
Has me someplace else

Picture you ***** as you were
Got to have you, got to be there
All the time
It's your distance
That keeps killing me
And the waiting by the river

Call you, got to call you
From the house on the water.
Haiku Donna Jun 2017
I went for park stroll
And ducks on pond went quack quack
"We want our quilt back"
Quack quack :)
I don't own a duck feather quilt but my son does and when I wash his bedding I always think of ducks over pond :) I told him the ducks r after him lol x
As I looked upon the
Whispers of the forming
Clouds.
So, shaped like a family of ducks
in their times.
Revealed to me the caspered calm and
Distinct instinct and ‘gifts’ to
Float, without prior education.
Towards the sky forests in
Ease and love.


(c) copyrighted
A poem about nature
Fey Underwood May 2016
It takes one to know one swift fell swoop
like a bat out of **** and certainly the belfry.
If you've something to prove to the birds and the bees,
I won't bat an eye at your rhinoplasty.

I'll take two hoots, 'cause I sure won't give them.
Find somebody else to get up and go;
I cry like I fly like a carrion crow
and I've two left feet and no time to tango.

It takes three strikes 'til it's not just company
any more — it's a crowd and my agoraphobia
is making this worse, so I might disperse.

If you don't quite care, let's put two and two together;
playing pretend we're birds of a feather.
I could commend, but that's such a no-no;
you're more like a doornail to me, less like a dodo.

And if you don't much mind, I might just take five.
I'm chicken-livered, but at least alive
though I feel like a dead duck, dusted and done.
I won't be there, I'll stay fair and square,
right back at square one.

Now can you see how this is cyclic?
Makes me feel one sandwich short of a picnic,
up the wall, and driving me sick.
Apologies, I don't mean to nitpick,
and I know I've a number of bees in my bonnet,
but I've zero interest in your haiku and sonnets.

So here's one for the road,
turn by the way the devil drives you home,
and one good turn deserves
another.
Rob Symington Feb 2017
Two ducks float seamlessly, side by side
leaving nothing but a few ripples in the mind.
Which twists and turns, much like a helpless Fern
floating down, from the tree which never learnt.

When will the ripples be gone, what will there be?
Only stillness, maybe tranquility?
Will that too play in the mind
Of Circe's dream, caught like a riptide.

When will we float side by side?
like two heroes buried at sea.
If it's you and me; I'll be
proud. "As proud and punch"
If punch could float, like a cloud.
CastorPolydeuces Dec 2016
I'll rate you bubbly, you rate me bogus
and we'll be happily fraudulent in our demise.
just ramblin, idk.
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