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Mark Wanless May 2023
jesus christ and
chicken nuggets
Star BG Feb 2020
I collect nuggets of wisdom wherever I go.
Inside steps of dance and tears of healing.
Gentle breeze and precious morning sunrise.
And whispers behind a poets voice.

I collect nuggets of wisdom  everywhere
In a child's presence and song of divine birds.
Silence behind ticking clock that vibrate.
And visions in eyes of dragon flies flight plan.

I collect nuggets of wisdom everywhere.
Inside beating of drum by American indians hand.
Breath of an inhale and exhale that balances.
And elders voice within meditative stance.

I collect nuggets of wisdom from everything.
And store them in heart thats an endless chest
with wisdom of its own.
First poem of day.
As eighth month of the year
both within Gregorian and predecessor,
     the Julian calendar, where
said month originally
     named Sextilis in Latin
since averred month ranked sixth
     in ancient Roman calendar veer
really changed to August in honor

     of Augustus Caesar
     pinpointed eight Earthly
     steeplechased rendezvous roundabouts
     clocking viii sun danced orbitz
thru metaphorical solar turnstile,
     sans common era there

after retaining a trace
     of antiquity doth square
lee tug at mine olde ink
     quiz hit heave egghead noggin
     heady curiosity shoppe,
asper how lunar place name

     linkedin as rare historical tidbit
thus, when at a loss,
     what to write poem about
an unexpected brainstorm
     found me not to doubt
Google when literary eureka
     came to this lout
(only I own license to debase self)

just on the verge,
     and ready to pout
fearing writer's block
     as if creative juice
     yielded nary a drop from thine figurative
     fountain oft times
     gushing water spout.

As a poetic foot note, aye
frequently ponder about
     millenniums gone by,
and peoples, who
     dotted with graveyards
     of lovely bones after they did die
     the four corners of the globe,

     this twenty first century
     chap doth espy
harem there, a debauched prurient
     hot pocket of mankind
     (woman too of course)

     begetting, fostering, mothering
     ancestors of this guy
retaining genetic characteristics
     that got pooled watering
     survival of the fittest well nigh.
due to a lack of talent
in the writing sphere
a plagiarist will see fit
to pinch other poet's gear

brilliance not present
on the nib of the pen
hence a copyist will purloin
every now and then

a rich source of poetry
is tapped into online
as if robbing the golden nuggets
from a Colorado mine

their coda reads like
this let's nick a stanza
stowing the best *****
for a thieving bonanza

without any conscience
the reproducer does steal
making much of other's works
which are so ideal
Cynthia Jean May 2016
the salt and pepper of life

the rich nuggets

precious little details
that we miss

in our overwhelm

the little jewels
of everyday life
that make it
so sweet

so
much
to
be
thankful
for

all the days of our lives

cj 2016
May God open our eyes everyday to His gifts...that we wouldn't miss anything!
Brycical Mar 2015
Banana splits lickedy his spican-and-span throbbing
peninsula clock jar.
The scar from his far faux **** ignited his beating
hexagonal calendar.
Which is used to peruse the jujubees metallic books in the public
libation crazy train station.
His ecstatic adulation exemplifies why diamonds are
a girl gorilla's favorite soap.
His floating cubed boat is on a remote desert
impala growling at the turquoise toilet.  
But his spoiled toys are annoyed about the choice between life or
demonstrative sponsored concerts by budweiser.
Woeful razor beaked birds marvel at absurd his Salvador
Daoist Dharma surreal cereal caramel karma flakes.
I do and do not own the rights to this poem that didn't exist until just now.
IsReaL E Summers Dec 2014
Its funny how I got here.
On a streetcar named desire.
Down town I called to Fear
Ingiting the poets fire.
But through the flames,
Called born-again...
The Love I found within;
Called me.
This started as one thing and became something entirely different...

— The End —