"gearing" poems
i am going to look great
i am going to feel great
tonight
i'm going out
i got my best shoes on
just got them in
the mail
in a package
delivered from sister
and brother in law
saying hey
it's time for you to start practicing for that 5k
cuz it's in the next day
and you haven't started running
you're still smoking
and that race aint gonna race
without you
your heart
may take on a chase
from that ******* induced
in your veins
a few days
beforehand
how do you think you're going to do
when you're running and you gotta spew
before you even get to the finish line
but i'm going out tonight
looking sharp and feeling right
trying to put on my best face
and take a trip to a nice place
where the people all smile
and greet you
pretty women too
oh hey
nice to meet you
i really enjoy it
it's a part of my story
on whom ive grown to be
man with a plan
and a mask
a ****** weapon concealed
a killer with a smile
that man who took on the night
and drove it wild
some kind lady
may even have my child
anything can happen
whatever you dream up
so i'm getting on my best pair of sneakers
and gearing up
for the race
but first
it's tonight
and i don't have to work in the morning
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
Aspirations ,prayers,wishes and more,
When it is right ,it's definitely right!
The universe conspires to create miracles and one such miracle is you !
The smell of a familiar me ,connected with cords ,cut but uncut long after they are only to hold you in my arms now connected through heartbeats and love growing strong.
The tiny , soft fingers bound around tightly ,
The twinkle seen through half closed eyes.
Tender skin as soft as snow , whats
there to ask for more ?
A bundle of joy and happiness came fore !
So they say when the time is right , it of course is !
In my hearts core I knew long before,
God choose to give me the best .
Thee! extraordinary from the rest .
A tessellation of wishes came to surface in a matter of time and test .
Your addition to my life brought in a sense of peace ,pride and profoundness.
Rearing to take on the world gearing to accept responsibility.
Surviving every obstacle , a Lioness closely guards and protects her cub , to see him grow into thee "King of the Jungle "
©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 8:13 AM UTC
Preparations are gearing up for the iD Dunedin Fashion Show, which this year opens with a tribute to Australasian style on Anzac weekend.
The 120m-long platform of Dunedin's railway station is again the venue for shows on April 24 and 25, which are preceded by the iD International Emerging Designer Awards on Thursday night at the Town Hall.
Saturday night is sold out and about 100 tickets are still available to Friday's show, organisers say.
Labels Carlson, Mild-Red and NOM*d, brands synonymous with Dunedin fashion, were in the original show in a local bar in 2000 and they're still show stalwarts.
Company of Strangers, Charmaine Reveley, DADA Vintage, Storm, Perriam, Deval, GG (from Shanghai), Liann Bellis, BEATS clothing, Jason Lingard and Jane Sutherland are also strutting their stuff this year.
The shows open with a section titled Together Alone, Revisited, put together by Doris De Pont, featuring garments by four New Zealand and three Australian designers shown at an exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria in 2009.
International guest judge Doris Raymond, the star of documentary series LA Frockstars, is also bringing some garments with her for the show.
The owner of vintage emporium The Way We Wore has a fabulous collection of outfits and she will talk about them at an event in the city on Friday.
Six fashion graduate designers from the Otago Polytechnic School of Design will also show their collections in the shows on Friday and Saturday night.
Garments made by the winner of the emerging designer awards are also in the show.
The finalists were selected from nearly 100 entries from seven countries and 14 fashion schools.
There's a strong showing from Australian schools, especially from Sydney, says judge Tanya Carlson.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
My heart is thriving with hope,
Eyes filled with dreams,
Gearing up to challenge myself.
Not scared of drowning,
Will slay the monsters of the sea…
With my sword of courage.
Want to shine brighter than stars.
And see the world from the top.
Will walk through the path alone…
The journey just begins from here.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 8:16 AM UTC
It is another Sunday in the winter.
I am properly tucked in my quilt.
I browse through the top headlines of the hour.
It says the temperature outside is two-degree centigrade and I quit
all ideas of leaving my quilt.
Sundays in winter were my favourite days
and letting me play on Sundays my cookies
for reading properly for six days.
Those Sundays, which seem to be distant memories,
are some of my best memories.
Saturdays were the days of preparation.
Arranging bats, ***** and bicycles, at least, four,
deciding time and venue for the action,
making strategies to sail us ashore-
were some important tasks to be completed before.
I used to sleep a bit early after setting
up a thousand alarms, in case I missed a few,
to ensure I woke up in the morning.
and then I would make a few
calls to wake up the crew.
Though while gearing up,
I would move as little as possible
my Mom would always wake up
and then I had to wear all the clothes ‘cause cold air made you susceptible
to sick and sick made you feeble.
Before I could leave home, I had
to close the door as slowly as possible
because I didn't want to wake up Dad
for he was predictably unpredictable
and it was too risky a gamble.
We dared not look into uncles 'n aunties'
eyes while asking our friends to come to play
for their looks could terrorize
anyone. We'd then go to the decided play-
ground on the shared bicycles without delay.
Quarrels to bat at the top,
the endless running around to save a few runs,
‘barking’ on fellow players lest catches they drop,
heated discussions on run-outs-
these memories still give me goose bumps.
The celebrations after winning the matches and
blaming each other for losing were
the customs of the day and
mom made ‘chicken’ and a good after-
noon nap - a perfect finish for a day to remember.
A lifetime has gone by
since we last played together
and bade each other goodbye
but those memories still lurking somewhere
inside our brains adhere us together.
I usually do not write about myself or my memories, which makes it special. Those days are some of my best memories. And in a cricket crazy country like ours, many definitely have similar memories.
© Devashish Kumar
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
I am
Casting down imaginations
To the pulling down of., strong-holds
Gearing up for the.. long term
But from the outside looking in?
May seem bold
or quite
MAD*
[ Well ]
Just referring to the thoughts
that I have
that are really not that far- off
while dreaming of., REVELATION
No.. fabrication on my part
As I try to separate the Light
from the Dark
with high hopes and
Aspirations
Which is.. a sen-sational sensation of flying high
as I'm being
vated
ele-
Elevelation
High on
Or something like a planned
Evo-lu-tion that is so
True
[while]
Staying true to my elevation in 2020
leading into 2020 one
[while seeing] Dou-ble
Vision
( Although )
Some might try to fix it?
[ Yeah ]
But I would beg to differ
Cause it would take [twice] the listen
Care to listen?
Just to see things
Different
And at the same time?
Shuning the carnal mind's version
of seeing Dou-ble
Vision
May call it [ Twinning ]
Which is.. the true definition
of being Dou-ble
Minded
So.. to combat this?
I would just
never
Mind [It] ( meaning )
There's no rules or
bars of
Confinement
For no 20 or Eye is missing
from my
INTUITION
Raised suspicions?
Well., Just hoping that you will
tread.. carefully
And stay
Centered
As you enter my center of words
and.. penning
As I write the vision
I'll make it plain and simple
No Subliminals
Or either I'll keep it at minimal
While maintaining the
Visuals
As usual
As I keep on gaining in
WISDOM
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 11:47 AM UTC
*Aberration’s child is born as foetus in a man
Thoughts of where and why and when corrupted in the plan,
These aberrations manifest behaviourally where
Normality’s parameters are stretched beyond the tear.
Stretched beyond acceptable, stretched beyond belief
Like when the golden Altar boy becomes a rabid thief!
Like how that fool in North Korea with militarists in synch
With postulated threats has brought us all to nuclear brink.
Like when that freak in Batman gear let loose with deadly aim
To shoot the kids at movie time then claimed he was insane.
Like when the Barons grow the coke to corrupt all our youth
And bribe and cheat and **** and bash, yet call our laws uncouth.
What makes my brothers lie and steal, what makes them want to hurt?
What aberration wields the knife to shred the nubile’s skirt?
Why are financiers predatory, what gearing in their mind
Enables them, with conscience clear, to plot to fleece us blind?
When does this change occur in growth, at what stage does it switch?
How do angelic six year olds at fifteen turn to *****
Amazing that the blue eyed boy who smiled with curly locks
With age became infatuated with a lust for *****
Indecent that good working men who slave to build a stake
Can lose it all to those who use legality to take.
And what of those who plan to **** what trigger in the brain
Determines that they chose this path?
IT’S ALL NOW QUITE INSANE!*
Marshalg
Viewed from my (relatively) safe hidey-hole, Down Under.
Pukehana. NZ
6 April 2013
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
On opening day 2013
I wrote a poem
About my beloved
Pittsburgh Pirates
It's called Pirates Fan
That I am
I lamented twenty years
Of losing
And shined in optimism
That change was coming
It's now August
And the Buccos
Are in first place
Best record in baseball
Gearing up for
Playoffs in the fall
After twenty years
Of losing!!!
There is hope
For all losers
Keep grinding it out
One day you
May find yourself
In first place!!!
For the moment
We are
Number one!!!
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
Are things really that bad,
can we really not face another day,
count our lucky days,
be full of thankfullness!?
I mean it's not like
we're landing on
the beaches of Normandy
this morning,
hopping a freight to Auschwitz
to shower,
dressing warm to hunker down
at the Bulge,
gearing up for
a hike in Bataan
or stripping down
to catch some
bright rays at Hiroshima.
You see,
things could be
a helluva lot worse,
let's be grateful for living!
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
Two lads, I'd say, of thirteen, just passed;
One in barefoot with a backpack;
One in shorts, shoes and black socks,
Pulled up over bloated calves.
One athletic, lean and gearing;
One more leaning towards academia.
Both waiting to enter high school.
They met in JK.
They slept on their towels, in their tents,
At each other's house on weekends.
They served together, lived as one;
Their mothers loved them as sons.
That's how close they'd become.
Their worlds will change,
Once this season's done.
One will be the talk of his circle,
The other, the talk of his;
But there's a Venn where the rings entwined
Before they turned thirteen.
Their hybrid youth,
Their cloned friendship,
Memories already determined.
Around fires and bells,
Or a covered porch on a rain - washed day;
They'll dig up some old moments
Of the other when they were young.
Buried treasures for days of leisure,
Apart, yet part of their sum.
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 11:21 AM UTC
i am the kind of kid
who when i think of birthdays i think
eighteen instead of twenty one.
i have been wanting to vote since before
it ever even occurred to me to look forward to ***** shots.
so fast forward to 2015, gearing up to the 2016 presidential race
and guess who of all people is in first place?
donald trump.
and it’s funny
because i had an argument with a friend the other day
over the importance of voting.
politics? he says he just doesn’t care.
he doesn’t understand.
ignorance is not a luxury we can all afford.
donald trump is not funny.
he is far too scary and far too real to simply be a caricature.
make no mistake, donald trump doesn’t care for people like my father,
whether they’re here legally or not.
donald trump doesn’t care for people like me,
whether we were born here or not.
his compassion ends within a five mile
range of the the rio grande
and donald trump wants to “make america great again”
by building walls around us to keep anyone south of the border out.
donald trump wants to run this country like a corporation
with the HR department cut.
make no mistake, donald trump is not funny.
donald trump is not funny,
he is terrifying.
he is reminiscent of a past we cannot afford to repeat.
apathy is not a luxury we can all afford.
remember: we are responsible for our own ignorance
we are just much of what we put into this world
as we are what we take
out of it.
if we don't like who is playing god
and we don’t like the way he pulls the strings,
we have to remember who handed him the bible
so he could swear himself in.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
an errant pirate has been active
in the copying caper
naffing off with other poet's
scripted draper
this person was seen to be doing
some stanza reproduction
using a falsified form of title
introduction
as bold as brass
pinching what takes the fancy
not caring about the original
Nancy or Clancy
those who think that stealing
other writer's material is okay
have need of gearing
their scruples the right way
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 9:26 PM UTC
tending to my beautiful garden, growing, glowing, roots showing and hope blooming, tender petals my heart is grooming into something far from
dark and ruined
the others, cracked and crumbling, dry and deserted from thunder rumbling
all I want is to love, to keep loving
knowing love is fearing loss
knowing loss is fearing love
hearing loss is fearing hearing possible
endings nearing
tearing up then gearing up
for demolition I'm only wishing
for undying beautiful things
my mind dutifully sings
and screams and pleads for what my heart needs
good deeds won't protect selfish love,
nor intellect keep my garden intact,
in fact
it may only harden
my heart and pen
pardon my art,
I just intend
to cowardly restart
what must end..
to my garden, I try to tend...
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
My family begins at the end of a puppet's string
Hanging from giant hands.
Controlled movements make for misconceptions
And dangerous contemplations.
The puppeteer's whimsical remedies
Play on the years we've spent standing in quick sand.
My family begins at the bottom of the ocean,
Fed potions by mystical sea creatures.
This show features fallacies lost in forgotten tragedies.
My family ends in the Earth's atmosphere,
Gearing up for outer space we begin to face our worst fears.
Growing older, we've either put the show on hold or
It's weighing on our shoulders like heavy boulders.
The Earth quakes as we take off to places with no names.
And yet... we're still attached at the hands and feet with puppet strings.
(Written 6/10)
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:57 PM UTC
Somebody sweep me off my feet
Slow down, hurry up
What are we waiting for
Train train
Blowing my whistle
Warning you at the cross street
I seem to be the conductor
Maybe I need to be just another passenger
Blowing the whistle
Train, train
The train horn always blows
At the cross streets
Maybe I'm deaf and blind.
I cross those tracks anyway.
Where did you come from
Train train
Slamming into the hard concrete
Feeling that heavy steel on steel
I didn't see or hear
But I felt the vibration in my chest
My body shakes
Interrupting my train
Of thoughts
Train train
Blowing her whistle
Fell asleep at the wheel
Am I on the train
Or driving
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes
As I feel the force of power
Train train
Running down the tracks
Penny flattening on the metal
Now its a keepsake
Train train
Stop don't you see the lights flashing
Can't we hear the
Interrupting soundtrack
Smoking engineering
It's warning whistle
Smiling today whenever I hear
That train
Train train
Infinite trip
Watching the scenery
From my minds eye
Instead I ran
Faster so I could
Jumpstart
Train train
I'm pulled up
My eyes have adjusted
Darkness
Gearing down
Train train
Next STOP
Whistle sound
Thunder
Smaller as I watch
Their train
Leaving
Alone in station
Train train train train
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
Why is it that the people,
I wish to talk to the most,
are always the quickest,
to rebuff my advances?
Am I not good enough?
Is there a flaw that I can't see?
I guess that when it comes to flaws,
I have learned not to see them.
Maybe you were hurt.
Maybe is was so bad that you
have lost the ability to Love unconditionally.
But I can't see your pain because you hide it so well.
All I ask, is for a *****
in your impenetrable armor.
That way I might be able to
better understand your gearing.
Perhaps I would be able to
shed a ray of guiding light
on your ashen soul.
I don't know if it is worth my time.
Rest assured, that I will try.
I will give it my all.
I will not fail you in your time of need.
I will be perfect.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Baby hold onto me...
Can you feel me breathing...
in your scent
as our bodies collide
smashing together
like waves hitting the sand.
Can you hear my whimpers
as you
slowly & deeply
penetrate
the very core of my essence.
I unfold like blooming flowers,
as you succumb to desire
caused by my teasing you....
Months on end I flirted
and teased wearing
mini skirts,
thigh high stocking
with lacy garter belts
attached,
playing the role
of sensual seductress
all the wile gearing up
to be more
then your temptress...
I want to cossume your body
and fill your thoughts
of the sweet pleasure
I've given you.
Tasting me on you is
a fixation
that sticks in my head
as I lay awake
at night thinking
of how
you've caressed
me with your lips
and tickled me with
your fingers
as you strummed
my budding rose.
I got this fantasy
I'd like to try with you,
how about you
let me tie you up to my bed
and tease you,
kissing your growing shaft
as I flick my tongue
over the head
and slid my mouth
around the base of you...
You can only move your hips
no touching
just let me do this........
Can you let me untie you
and bring you to the shower,
I'll wrap the strings right around
my wrist you helping too,
spreading me eagle
in a stand up positions
then roughly you enter,
deep strokes after strokes
yet I am now the one
who can't touch you...
Lift me up and push in deeper,
hurt me love me
as I let out little screams
& whimpers of pleasure.
I cry out again & again
as you shove yourself
in so deep,
I feel alive yet I'm floating.....
I have yet to touch earth again
and your starting back up,
working your mouth around me, in me
and my budding rose,
tongues dancing in and out of me,
I can't breath,
my mind follows my body
as I reach new heights...
Stars burst in the back of my eyes,
I feel again and again like I'm floating,
swimming in ecstasy......
To got **** bad
this
was only a dream
of
how things once used to be!
I'm laying here wide away
NOW!
Always me Ayeshah
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 3:51 PM UTC
'It's sadly true, dear grandpa,
That the rough men are so rare
And that folks who uphold the law
Face tasks that none should bear
But I see things, dear grandpa,
That your tired eyes yet miss
And if only you could see them
It would fill your heart with bliss
For I see them in the alleys
And I see them on the streets
I see them in their cruisers
And i see them on their feet
I see them in my church
And I see them in my school
I watch them as they search
And bring justice to the cruel
I see them from the backyard
And I watch them far from home
As they take the giant's path
To places none should roam
You say the rough man's gone
But i see him every night
As my pajamas i don
He is gearing up to fight
And he stands up in my tree house
To keep watch behind my fence
And he stands there through the night
Without ego or pretense
The goons wear different masks now
But their faces never changed
And the less we choose to cow
The more they become enraged
But still those brawny thugs wait
With bated breath in thrall
For the chance to berate
And to pound and break and maul
The rough men walk among us
And they strike out swift and strong
And we'll walk home safe tonight
For I'll one day join their throng'
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
Monsanto's roundup
never failed to **** the weeds
Monsanto's roundup
being known for deadly deeds
of late a court case
has hit the headlines
on behalf of a grounds man
who'd sprayed roundup
over rambling vines
he'd ingested the product's
residual mist
whereupon his body became
sick from its whist
other plaintiffs are gearing
up for a trial date
which will mean the suing
of Monsanto won't abate
hefty cash payout
can but damage the company's
profitable reputation
on lawyers presenting
evidence of the **** killer's
lethal saturation
and people in countries
off shore will obtain a chance
in litigation against the corporate entity's
expenditure advance
Monsanto's roundup
never failed to **** the weeds
Monsanto's roundup
being known for deadly deeds
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
You are dropped off at a shady part of town,
neon lights surround you, they are cascading,
you don’t know where to go, you are their clown.
a briefcase in your ****** hand, fascinating
how easy it is to slip and fall, graceful landing its not.
Masterful plans in motion, gearing up for promotion,
Handouts for the lost souls wandering the streets of devotion.
Wage slaves, suit and tie, tight rubber band and an injection.
Your little baggage is ticking, tick-tock.
Run for your life through dirt ridden alleyways,
Closing doors of sanity behind a tight lock,
See the faceless amalgamation of people, life finds a way.
Finds a way, to take your last breath away.
Your lust for carnal pleasures is a weakness,
This blade that cuts the thread of passion is your mistress.
Your body will reject your non-organic heart, don’t stress.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 5:32 PM UTC
'It's sadly true, dear grandpa,
That the rough men are so rare
And that folks who uphold the law
Face tasks that none should bear
But I see things, dear grandpa,
That your tired eyes yet miss
And if only you could see them
It would fill your heart with bliss
For I see them in the alleys
And I see them on the streets
I see them in their cruisers
And i see them on their feet
I see them in my church
And I see them in my school
I watch them as they search
And bring justice to the cruel
I see them from the backyard
And I watch them far from home
As they take the giant's path
To places none should roam
You say the rough man's gone
But i see him every night
As my pajamas i don
He is gearing up to fight
And he stands up in my tree house
To keep watch behind my fence
And he stands there through the night
Without ego or pretense
The goons wear different masks now
But their faces never changed
And the less we choose to cow
The more they become enraged
But still those brawny thugs wait
With bated breath in thrall
For the chance to berate
And to pound and break and maul
The rough men walk among us
And they strike out swift and strong
And we'll walk home safe tonight
For I'll one day join their throng'
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
That clockwork school! If it’s not gearing up
Then it's winding down, except in the fall
Which then is when it’s gearing up again
But not in the spring, when it is winding down
Sometimes it’s just around the corner where
Presumably it is still gearing up
But maybe winding down, somewhere in town
Waiting for the fall to come back around
Then winding down, having worn out its spring
But back in the fall, you see; that’s the thing!
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Through the path of chaos and destruction happening in the world
We need to all unite together and pray for everyone's safety
Gearing up for the worst to come
Hunkering down
Hoping for the best
Thoughts and prayers to everyone who will be affected
Let's all come together and be the light in the darkness that has been, and will be put upon us.
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 9:17 AM UTC
Birds fly
So do I--
Lifted by your hands.
Paper *****
Wrestled falls,
Laughter with no end.
Scars earned,
Lessons learned,
Gearing me for life.
Always here,
Support clear,
Pillar of my life.
Jun 16, 2025
Jun 16, 2025 at 2:36 AM UTC
Write
Before sunrise
Ull be fine
A reincarnation of a heart
When u just feels like a great loss
Wearing red lipstick
I keep my lips apart
Whirling in my head
Hundreds of thoughts
I as a barren parrot- land
Sing songs of urs
Of ur eulogies
How much this land barren
Needs an ale of ur magnificient eye
Raising hands with thousands of apologies...
I nest my heart up on the clouds
Those breathe my sight, those long for an insomniac eye....
Yet charisma leaves me unsight
A love to ponder, a loss to survive....
Shaken this world by trillion words
A pitcher of mine, still so much soaked in thirst...
Someday ill shout out the voice
Someday,
Someday,
Someday..!!
Hearing a thought, like a murmur in my head
I am gearing a ride, something like that
Turning around on every step
As if i have lost my mind under striking steps;just finding myself!
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC