"alerting" poems
The bright blue bottle hit me like a hint of death
on the breath of Spring.
I imagined it being tossed out a truck window
by underage teens fancying themselves clever
and mature and immortal
as if the earth had willed upon them
that her stolen treasure, Aluminum,
be returned or she’d cause their truck keys
disappear for all eternity.
I picked up the blue bottle
tried to feel resurrection
in a recycling sort of way
felt instead only the hollow emptiness
of mindless eternal reincarnation.
Winter had been long this year and lately
I fantasized resurrection more than usual
at a field where I stopped to listen to meadowlark and field sparrow calling for mates or alerting everyone to the sin of the blue bottle.
Several deer grazed the unseen first greens of Spring near skunk cabbage and coltsfoot.
At a small stream, I cupped my hand into the icy fast water and raised it to my lips, then splashed my face, then splashed some more, more,
then knelt, both knees at the streambed and submersed my face and head,
in self-inflicted baptism
for my own blue bottle sins,
opened my eyes, exhaled all my blue bubbles, for the longest of repentant moments,
pulled out of the water
gasping the holy Spring air
for dear life
and thereafter walked each step
in the garden of resurrection.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
crime, staring competitions, tears.
these small things that lead us further
into the fog, closer to the moths,
attached at the hip, nothing new.
nothing blue, always red.
your guitar rips through the
navy skyline, alerting the stars of war,
violet mornings creeping over the
trees as sleep envelops your eyes.
i've dreamed of something like
this, but i got more than i asked for.
i'd never go back.
i'd never go back to that place where you
don't exist, the dark, the damp, the treacherous.
becoming a threat, was the purple leaves and blinding snow.
but the next morning was lined with amnesia, we both forgave;
but we'll never forget.
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 2:29 AM UTC
Your Style Can Not Dominate
Not Being Crude, Not Spreading Hate
I'm Just Spreading The Word, Going To Radiate
Even Without It, You'd Probably Meet Your Fate
Taking You Down Has Become My Mission
Going To Split Your Mind, Sanity Fission
And Your World In Two, Territorial Division
I'm Coming At You With Insane Precision
Not Going To Rush, Going To Be Tactical
Make Sure My Plans Are 100% Practical
Attacking Aimlessly Would Be Impractical
Give My People A Show, Theatrical
I'm Flawless, You're Flawed
When People Hear My Words, They Applaud
When They Hear yours? They Call The Firing Squad
I Don't Think Inside The Box, I Think Abroad
I'm Guessing By Now You Must Be Hurting
You Coming To Me, Asking For Some Kind Of Converting
The Topic Kills You, You're Diverting
To You. I'm Quite Alerting
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
A Hug,
How underrated
Available in the avail of a kiss,
Or the escape of one.
At birth
My mother showed me loves worth
Calmed the loudest cries
Hushing me
Just by holding me
Keeping me warm
Through the coldest times
As I grew older
This demonstration became more familiar
With family
So many I managed to manifest
My mannerisms allowed
Long embraces
That mattered so much!
All from a simple touch
The first time…
The first time,
With the one I loved
*********** lacked satisfaction
If after the contraction
We weren’t in each others arms…
Relaxin…
Chest to chest
You hold her
Can two hearts get any closer?
If my only love
Was to take her love away
In the most selfish absurd way
Spurned my love
She still wouldn’t be too stubborn to hug
Once the years have spun away
The best reconciliation
A Hug,
A gesture so benign
Even if I were to express
With my best friend, a canine
Or my only companion, a feline
People still wouldn’t see I
As constructed of **********
Alerting not a soul
Hearts become sole
Even when shared with animals.
Making Love,
Is not limited to ***
Or a kiss,
Instead,
The same bliss
Can be met
With a Hug.
What’s Love, But a Hug?
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 12:27 AM UTC
Like spools of thread, pilled in the midst
Darkness draws attention to the danger
Up few miles, is that place
Where the sign reads, welcome stranger
Curiosity jumps on each step
As the enchanting forest gets deeper
The sun rays sparkle the early dews
And awakens the sleeping keeper
Birds chattering, singing melodiously
Giant rocks, stand as guards of century
Silent kills the morning songs
At the dark weaved, heavy grown entry
Myth say, it may be a portal to another world
But reports and researchers find it their own way
What's there to be afraid of
Besides an approaching thunder day
A torch in hand, walking cautiously
Humming sound follows through, alerting my ears
Tripping, few times on dead branches
Triggers my lost unwanted fears
It's almost past mid day, but not a single string of light
The passage seems like a hell deep
Strange scribbles on near stones, alert
"Do not fall asleep"
Hours of walking on turns and paths
Tiredness and hunger grasped in well
Don't fall asleep rings in my ears
I was not alone, I could easily tell
Within this labyrinth, mysteries lie of all kinds
An evil crackling laugh, shakes my fears
Looking in the direction of the sound
There is an "it" and it hears
Run out now, my gut feelings kick in
Hoping for sun rays, but thunder beats the sky
Peculiar heavy steps seems to follow
I wish, I could just fly
One exit, echoes another entry
A swirl labyrinth has woken today
Running in circles, lost my routes
I can't find my right way
A small spark of light in a corner
Disguised as the suns ray
Traps my vision to walk forward
Like a poised lucidest prey
What happened next, I do not know
But not alone now, as more walk my way
Finding their own possible routes
We have become abundantly stray...
©sim
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
beginning optional weekday
wielding officialese words
triggering hectic exchanges
determining original gangsters
distributing invisible data
refreshing urbane novelties
yelping our universe
chaining awkward neologisms
scripting encrypted e-books
tackling hacking exercises
cavaliering auric tumult
trivializing our obsolescence
preparing online pentimento
alternating rainy themes
allocating numerous droplets
meandering overseas missions
averting raging tornado
losing outscored lightning
hacking impish 'sblood!
alienating nival drumlins
hearing erudite raconteurs
beer-drinking on thursdays
finding obnoxious rabblerousers
finding upscale negroni
seeing ubiquitous purple
cavorting horse ebooks
inventing twitter subgenre
liking otherworldly vocals
initiating new greatness
defining ambient yesterday?
defining ambient yesterday
fancying oneiric retreat
hailing optimistic chicago
kiboshing expired yogurt
rushing airborne blackhawks
bestowing infinite shivarees
needing baller acronym
fleeting ideal notions
alerting left-coast state
featuring unquiet nights
finalizing orangeball results
nodding occidental warriors
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
The first time
I heard them
I swear,
I was to listening
to the most beautiful choir
in four-part harmony,
swaying
or angles wings rubbing,
& perfectly, playing
a common file instrument
angled, such a unique sound
symphonic & splendorous
they are all around
this free concert
an offering of
Mother Nature
chiming at once
uncaged,
& calling on the ladies
in perfect unison
sounding like church
telling one another
of sunlit hours
say the flowers
fending off evil spirits
allowing me to travel
into the dark again
leaping over obstacles,
alerting me to danger,
still in their silence
I am protected
by this harbinger of luck
a most powerful portent,
of coming things
they sit silently in the quiet,
like a copper cricket weathervane,
as the poor man's thermometer
spinning tales effortlessly,
in the wind calmly
watching over us
a shivering in the night
save you, are mine
my Native American totem
or God's Cricket Chorus
foretelling of Sorrow
of coming rains tomorrow
ex-lovers and death
a shrill creaking
stridulating in song
Oh, I fear that day,
your music should go away
please dear uncaged cricket choir
I truly ....
hope you'll stay.
Cherie Nolan© 2016
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
Scandalous, you running in your underwear
Droplets like dew, dripping from your hair
If you didn't think it was odd
I would try to catch them
We dried on that rock lying lazy in the sun
Sidelong glances at each other, one on one
Neither of us could stand to look too long
As if the vacuums of our eyes
Would create some black hole
You spoke and the little hairs
On the back of my neck
Stood in applause
Your hand brushed my hand
Goosebumps rippled from that point and
Through my body,
Alerting everything,
Like electricity
I was instantly alive
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
Dawn casts her long line for spring
Days linger to catch the angel irises bloom
Enveloped by early chirping chitter-chatter
Lightly crusted sleep argues for lids to remain closed
Black perking wake-me oil makes a strong cups case for compromise
A nudge to join the living
- On negotiated terms -
Somewhere between another dream and lavender bubbles
The contract will begin
Foggy feet shuffle onto the wheel
Spying steps creak tattle-tale floorboards alerting all on the way
Pleading thoughtfulness
You beg for silence as the Ra room comes into view
Brightly checkered yellow-brown mustard window patterns
Cut diagonal boxes across maple hardwood
Stained glass dots of emerald, violet, and red raspberry
Dance on lemon washed walls as they turn and wink for a smile
Your morning chair sets at the edge of the warming sun pond inviting you
Join them
You listen to the ripples of space
Your cushioned dock perfectly positioned for a loving embrace
You sit
And slowly dip legs into the glowing pool
Drenched limbs cocoon in the heavy webbing of golden rays
Bathing
The chickadees celebration is known
Immersed
Lids succumb to the orange haze
The Girl from Ipanema sings
Young and lovely
You feel wonderful
No risk of drowning here...
Only in happiness
One radiating breath
Before the Samba plays again
© 2019 MJL
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 2:38 AM UTC
Wake up!
It's morning, you know it, the world around you says so
A chorus of beeping: the clock, the coffee *** the first cars with impatient drivers, the shrill door chime of the store at the end of the block with its first customer of the day, the microwave saying your hastily-made oatmeal is done, the phone alerting you to your first message of the day, the computer screaming about the emails that piled up overnight.
Wake up!
It's morning, you know it, it's time to get up.
Rip yourself up from the sheets
A horse throwing its rider
Tear those silken sheets that have for so long enveloped your mind
Wake up!
Do you smell the coffee burning, feel the changing seasons, see how that old woman's orange scarf flickers in the wind like a flame?
Do you?
Wake up!
Hear the music playing, dance along with it, make some cupcakes, read that book you promised Amy from accounting that you would read months ago but never did, feel the chafe of those shoes against your dry heels, poke around in an antique store that has a scent of ancientness.
You've done all that? You're awake?
Good, now go write a poem.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 5:00 PM UTC
Proud, Curious.
She steps forward.
Taking in the sight of the beast.
Cautious, Senile.
She growls darkly.
Alerting it's peers.
She doth take yes,
Nay to No.
Proud, Curious.
She goes onward.
Into the world.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
As the Nightingale sings...
His sweet song of happiness
Driven by bountiful liberation
Relieved from timeless crappiness
Fluttering, making a joyful noise
Trials to deprive him of craftiness
Surely fails at inflicting such harm
He sings gleefully, free of nastiness.
As the Nightingale sings...
His wrenching song of fear
Realizing his time can easily fall
At any moment danger may appear
Songs of melodic screechy whistles
Alerting of predators lurking clear
He's hurt, used to frequent viewing
His kin die, for each he sheds a tear.
As the Nightingale sings...
His sensual song of passion
Strong vocals of desired courtship
Refusing to share his ration
With many rivals upon his branch
Alluring females with his attraction
Mating rituals commencing in love
His plumage thrives in new fashion.
As the Nightingale sings...
His saddened song of sorrow
Wishing for better times to come
Hoping to make it to the morrow
Living below a abundant food chain
With a short lifespan to borrow
Singing til his last breath is breathed
Eloped to heaven, a angel he follows.
© Michael P. Smith
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Could it be possible that I’m worth more than my ******
When you look at me what do you see?
Because I am frightened by your eager eyes.
I am nervous at the way you so openly ask me,
“Are you married? What is your age?”
I pray in my mind that I’m just being naive.
Not every man is seeking to make you their toy.
But as I walk down the street, foreign tongues caress my ears,
Eyes poke at my curves,
Hands reach to cage me.
I am American.
I am white.
I am a college graduate.
I have a credit card.
I have a savings account.
But these things about me are not an excuse.
My skin may shine in the sun,
my belly may be well fed,
my privilege may make you jealous,
So hate me for my birthright,
But let me be free.
I am not here to save you.
I am not here to please you.
But let this be a lesson.
Let this interaction give me courage and hope that maybe you really do only want to talk.
Let my mind stop alerting my adrenaline to run so that when I need to I can outrun you.
Let this be a peace offering.
Let me tell you that I am American,
But that doesn't mean I’m a dollar sign.
That doesn’t mean I’m better than you.
It means that I was lucky.
Know that I am sorry.
I am not here to save you.
I am not here to please you.
I am here to be with you.
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 9:34 AM UTC
Waiting listening watching -
senses strain against
the darkness.
Dark gives way to gray
enough to see
deceptive shadows.
The woods stir slowly.
Chickadees speak, still sleepy.
Leaves rustle in the distance
alerting vigilant ears and eyes; inciting hope.
Scanning the ridge and shooting lanes, my eyes - then ears -
lock on rummaging squirrels.
Cold hands slip back into pockets;
it tries to snow.
Ravens complain back and forth.
Stillness -
then the rise of wind
through the trees.
Around eleven I walk to Dad’s stand.
Quiet talk and hot soup -
no deer.
The afternoon is spent, back against a Maple, with cautious thoughts comfortable enough to creep forward and linger in the peace of the woods.
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
You can be..
A doctor, teacher, lawyer.
And still be struggling.
Ask yourself?
Who hadn't struggle?
You can be preacher, judge, lover?
And still be struggling?
Again, ask yourself?
Who hadn't struggle?
Life of happiness eventually will find you.
It seems to always do.
The potential to feel satisfaction will come.
It just depends when it will effect you.
Just loving is struggle.
Just living is a struggle.
But through all your troubles, there's a golden rainbow.
Shining brighter than it ever has before.
Alerting you that your luck of joy will last from that moment, when you decides to struggle no more.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
I want a flag,
A serious flag is required.
Banners, ribbons and semaphore
Are the poems.
I want the flag
With red for alerting distractions,
With all rainbows,
All.
And though it will flap
With some fearsomeness,
The ******** double cross
Circled with olympian rings.
And a white flag emerges.
Eye white.
Naturally I hoist it,
And surrender.
Under interrogation
I spill my guts.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
He was a real life genius
And didn’t even know it
With simple things he struggled
He wouldn’t give up and quit
They said he was ********
I think they were being mean
To them he shouldn’t of listened
Smartness he never conceived
At school he always got bullied
Laughed at, kicked, and beaten down
Then he was really quiet
Because he’d been pushed around
His heart broken in the end
He was sitting all alone
Thinking how life was unkind
No one to see falling tears shone
His best friend found him hanging
He put a rope around his neck
His friend not understanding why
He never said that's how he felt
Wondering what he could have done
Now his friend’s heart is hurting
Telling about being bullied
So began the job alerting
Our differences are proper
That is how we were created
Just accept each other like we are
Because bullying is time wasted
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC
Scaffolded, encased in mortar
Propping up bricks of self esteem
Doubt had set in. Crumbling top
Layers absorbed....did they notice?
Felt but.....did they see it?
Who are "they"? Seemingly
Important and high ranking
Well....on a scale of 1-10 "they"
Pushed the 100 button golloped
Up all you can eat buffet.
Sit tight on your swing swaying to miss
Their broken sentences to avoid choking
In the solid efforts to snap your
Backbone, your spine tingling 'sit in'
Scares the beige from its safe spot
Red rioting around alerting the bull
Standing in the corner field, far left
Of your vantage point. Scraping hooves
Kicked up a stink large enough to have
You believing "they" hold all the cards
You trodden underfoot bilging cement
Running through your veins.
"They" didnt just see it
"They" designed, patented and claimed
The rights to "You"....
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
Sweet drenching rain
Blanketing I like the warmth of a fire
Soothing and coercing me
Rearranging what I do so desire
Removing my direction towards
A tight grip on withered pain
Forcing me towards a reflective solitude
Worse defeated, in my directionless game
Alerting me now so responsive
In cleansing I from greater pain
Sweet drenching rain bury me in your ocean
Of directed waters
Keeping me almost sane
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
I've been thinking a lot about
that first time after the apocalypse
when you slammed me against
the plaster and ripped every shred
of cloth from my skin, forcing tongue
to throat, grazing like giraffes in fields
of teeth.
I screamed for hours, overbearing
the television in the next room
and alerting the neighborhood
to the carnal intoxication in your tiny
bedroom. I would have let you
****** me that night, if I knew
it would make you come.
In the morning I stole away
with a few forgotten kisses
grinning like the Daliha
and building castles in
my mind. Dreaming
about going back to the time
we first met in an empty sculpture
classroom, with my face flushed
and eyes averted, trying to breathe
and slow my heartbeat, knowing
your ex-lover was murmuring
quips in my ear.
On days like this I wish
that you were Botecelli
laying brushstrokes to your image
of me being blown ashore
by the winds; that I was still
your Venus, and that 22
had never happened.
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 6:37 PM UTC
I wasn't expecting
your B or your C game,
certainly not your J or K
or any other letters
in the alphabet, really,
except that one at the beginning:
looks like a pyramid with a perch,
isosceles triangle with bottom arisen,
traffic cone alerting to awesome ahead,
space shuttle tip to aerospace action,
an upside down V with a chin rest,
upward-pointing pencil tip,
2D teepee with a loft...
or your best
approximation.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
Butterflies flies within your reach.
You're in love.
And in a way you deserves to be.
When love begins, you're not aware of its ending.
You talk constantly about them.
Too much to some friends that they call it an infaturation.
They doubt the whole situation.
Least, when love begins.
You notice the happiness within you.
You feel it.
You're aware of it.
And there's no one to make you regret it.
When love begins
There'll be times when friends won't be number one.
You instantly wants to spend time, with that certain someone.
While alerting to others you're in love.
When loves begins.
Jealousy turns it head.
When loves begins.
Just watch those that speaks negative until it ends.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 11:28 PM UTC
Poecile
Seems somehow fitting here on HP
With undulating rapidity
Poecile carolinensis
or is it P. atricapillus?
Is it chicka dee dee dee
Or fee bee fee bay
Or simply bee bay?
Both sporting Che's beret
Alerting comrades of other color
To where food can be found for free
Flitting from shrub to tree
To feeder and fast away
In black beret
Like Che
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
Dear,
During our distressful dispersal,
Due to dismal dismissal on my defense,
Your dreary demeanour is decidedly
Distressful.
Earnestly,
I evince my emotions, expressing every
Effort to ebulliate my everything,
But ephemeral expulsion excommunicates me
Exceptionally.
Apathetic,
You arrive, always akin to antipathy,
Although any alacrity you attempt
Assiduously alleviates my alerting
Affliction.
Reconsider
This rejection, revile in my respect,
Rescinding no recompense for this respelendance.
Rejuvenate while I receive the rigour and
Reward,
Dear
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
When I lived in the hospital
Once a week a woman came and read to me
Then I read to her
And every week she asked me
what I wanted to be when I grow up
I always answered
With all the seriousness of a little boy
Who wanted to one day be a man
Could muster
“I am going to be a super hero”
The kind that can control the forests
so I could build everyone houses
Or be like Jesus with the fishes
so no one would ever be hungry
I wanted to be strong like my father was
I wanted to be brave
I told her how I was happy for the chemotherapy
Because nuclear radiation usually only makes villains
Told her
How after the nurses injected me
My body felt like fire
And how I hoped
it would give me the power to control my body temperature
That way
If I ever held anyone
They would never have to be cold
And if you asked me now
What I want to be when I grow up
I’d tell you
I still want to be a super hero
I want to fight back the darkness
With all the strength of the sun
Or wrestle your demons
Or talk to animals
Even if it was just bunny rabbits
I’d find use for it
But I can’t do any of those things
I know we never become what we thought we would when we were kids
I don’t have a skylight calling me to action
Or extra senses alerting me to danger
I barely have my normal senses
I do have this though
A super power I call a cell phone
It’s always on
And I’ll always answer
Because
I at least got enough presence
To keep you from falling asleep alone
And enough spark in my heart to set my words on fire
Enough soul in the songs that I sing
To keep you from leaving again
Enough fat on my bones that I’m comfy to lay with
So if you’re lonely
Or tired
If you need a ride home
Or want me to back you in a fist fight
Or just need a friend
I have this magical thing that I call an ear
Mine
It listens so well
So pick up your super power I call a cell phone
And call me
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 1:12 AM UTC