"jape" poems
.
Years languished passed by like wheels before my eyes
Your betrayal unwrapped and re wrapped and unwrapped
While seconds unsaddled themselves with your memories
A sly jape time cracked at the expense of my quelled soul
Till this day I can't passively inhale without feeling aroused
The smog from your cigarette still lingers neath my nous.
.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
In that age of aged seasons
predating our own's four-square rhyme,
a reasonable jape was hatched
beaked but hairy to a guilt-free Hen
whose humors ran with jaw-slackening
creatures, foul and not at all bird-like.
Soon after its mixed-up cracking,
two prattle-prone Wrens hopped to spread
rumors of an un-chickity chick
and the ungodly origins
of fatherless yowls. Their tittered jeers
found welcome ears, and Mother Hen preened
her babe chased by merciless guffaws.
This Hen was not one to lay
down meekly, and a never stony
tongue rolled out its antidote myth
to a pair of gabby Gulls: "My child
may look not-much, but he's divine
engendered and miraculous born.
Sure he's messy, ah, but you'll see
he'll grow to be, much-much-more than
any feathery tykes your like did bear."
She clucked it so seriously,
who were they to doubt her? The plumed
sniggering ceased. But before another
grateful day could dawn in a hallelujah
glare of right angles, out pecking
up a snack, Mother made eye
contact with an unfortunate Fate
brandishing his lucky-gripped ax.
What of her wonder-why, joke of a boy?
Left alone at straw-pocket home,
waiting for his Hen to return,
he starved then decayed to hollow bones,
and was never thought of again.
Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 12:43 PM UTC
In a room sheltered by the passing of the seasons,
Trapped within the tempest of my consciousness,
A forbidden unravels between the two of us,
Like a wistful fragrance, losing itself in the winds.
You asked me to draw my reserved strength,
You sparked my dead empathy.
You spoke to my heart and asked it never to bleed and cry.
And then you left me by myself, alone in the face of my worst enemy, myself.
Today, as I sit under a naked full moon,
As its moonbeams pierce my solitary heart,
With the breeze running over my wounds,
My heart yearns to know where you are.
In order to fend those I loved,
I corrupted myself to become the one thing I hated,
The prey became the predator, lifted his sword,
Yet who can I embrace with my sword raised?
With your sweet words,
With the promise of your mischevious smile,
You lowered my arms.
You brought me back, but you left me alone.
I rest my psyche against the darkness that threatens to overcome my soul,
The fires you lit are long gone.
Sometimes, I think you were a cruel joke,
A jape by fate, to harden my glass heart.
Now, my raised sword serves no good,
A man wielding a sword, yet yielding his will to live,
Protects no one, he only kills.
All I want now is to rest in the embrace of cold death.
I do not know what I want anymore,
Perhaps you left me soul dead.
Nevertheless, i wish to forget,
I wish for your traces on my soul to be erased.
In light of sorrow, the moments of joy you left,
Pierce me harsher than barbed arrows.
Tell me.
How do I erase you from my soul?
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
The lames and children of the Lesser minds
are stirring, stirring, stirring
with paddles and ladles
with brooms and spoons
with knives and forks and slicers
with sticks and wooden mortars
with lean rods, brambles and twigs
Eagerly they stirred the cauldron
in demented exertions they huffed and puffed
Turn to the right turn to the left
one leg in and one leg out, we all turn around
we're stirring, we're stirring the *** they crowed
I looked into the ***
the *** was empty
I see nothing to stir
Nothing but hot air
nothing but hot air
What possesses lesser minds
into dances with the Gemini moons
The emperor's tailor
on yet another jape
Go on my puppets, stir that hotpot
I can sniff that delicious goulash aroma from 'where'
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Over half a hundred years
and still I journey on.
At times I'm left to wonder
Where all the years have gone.
Memories that hold the proof
that this life was really mine.
Reflecting as I sometimes do
was it fate or predestined line?
Did I make real choices
that took me down this path?
Or did some cosmic scheme
shape every tear and laugh?
Is all I am and all I've been
of unique and individual shape?
Or was I made to be like this
taking part in manufactured jape?
If some hand does guide it
and I be but actor in some play,
What point in this life I have,
for it to be played out this way?
Of course there is no answer
that I can ever be sure to know.
So I just blindly journey on
to wherever this line might go.
Random course or predefined
my day to day follows every bend.
And over half a hundred years,
I am so much nearer to its end.
Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 5:52 AM UTC
Gluttonous gapes and jibes jape and gibe
at a fine summer drinking wine
in solemn derisive disposition.
For 'tis summer!
and no wine tastes sweeter
than a glass of mockery, fear and dread
helped with honey-sweet spices and lead
'til the bitter wait
past the flooding litres and the sodding litter
into a halting cringing demeanour:
hatred incarnate, deathly pale and slaver wet:
the season's ending hangover get!
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
I'm going walkabout
It's time to get away to the outback.
I've been here for years.
It feels like I'm seeping into the seams
of the stitching of yesterday's dreams
And I've got to go.
No one will notice,no one will know
If I don't turn up for the show they'll just think that I passed.
My turn has come to get on the road and to run as fast as I can.
You can't catch this man he's to quick.
Tied to the past though I maybe
I am no baby when it comes to a race
I set the pace
And I'm off.
Walkabout
Talk about a jape
This jackanapes is making his track
And he ain't looking back.
I am gone as soon as the sun makes a face
In the morning this place will be history.
That's me.
Gone in a flash.
Now I must dash off and pack my walkabout sack
With a brolly and boots,two suits and a pair of old jeans.
That seems about right.
This time tomorrow night
I'll be far away.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 2:36 PM UTC
I once upset a group of RSM's when I told them that foot drill was a waste of time. At the time they were bemoaning the introduction of a new rifle, not because of its small caliber, but because of its cumbersome appearance: 'It is not good to drill with' they said. Thus:
An Opinion Expressed
I was once a soldier smart,
Learned to stamp my feet, the art
Of calling out 'The Time', the thrill
Of perfect, synchronising drill.
We did it in the Sunshine glare
On what was called parade ground square.
It's something that I'll always miss.
Those halcyon days, what perfect bliss
To march along in line abreast,
Our arms swung well up to our chest.
Rhythmic, gravelled, crunching feet,
With Pipes and Drums, and pagan beat.
When marking time we'd raise our knees,
Oh what a jape, oh what a wheeze.
We'd point the toe, dig in the heel
Stay with the marker on the wheel.
Saluting dais comes in sight
So make your dressing, by the right.
Neck to collar and chest out
This is what it's all about.
Look at us performing fleas
Shoulder, order, stand at ease.
Perfect creases, looking good
Just like all good soldiers should.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 4:07 AM UTC
The mind is an endless foreign land
A place to find escape
When life becomes a heavy hand
And living is a jape.
ljm
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 1:34 PM UTC
You are the smile that lights me up every
second. Each memory, a dusting of happiness.
You are the warmth that seeps into me,
a small whisper of hope in my darkest days.
My eyes swim with each grin, each jape,
That had passed between us. Our days,
bright and shiny, in a sea of haze. I know,
I‘m not the best of friends, I know,
I can be the clam and crab at times.
But you my friend, you are the companion,
One hopes for, the perfect accomplice,
My masked wicked dreamed of.
A tear floats over spilling,
Running down my cheek. My heart,
Squeezes at your image, a mirage .
My heart no longer listens, so do these?
Wayward drops washing my eyes.
You know its crazy, why it cries
At your buck teeth or your color blind
Fashion and pig tails? I’d never know.
But you knew. You knew it was hopeless,
You knew it ****** And, you stayed,
Whatsoever. You stayed to give us
The best of memories, you stayed to tell me,
I am here. So what if I’d forgotten.
You know, you are there in my thoughts,
Always. A diamond among pebbles,
You shine in my mind, always and ever.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
a high mood
could skip along like a child
a practical joke i give a sharp pull
on the strings of Everything
jape's on me
as i am tugged from off of my feet
and tumbled on the ground
laughing any-which-way
the day sky fills with lenses
enough to displace the stars
but there too much for them to see
efforts made mockable
the pattern baffling the pattern
with misunderstood importance
release and i enjoy the sun
for being the sun
Apr 14, 2025
Apr 14, 2025 at 9:19 AM UTC
Rick thought it a fitting jape.
To send a letter to Cornelius's attention,
Astride an arrow enlightened by lyrics,
None save Sharin's own could ever hope,
To do justice.
Born from wood felled by effort against weakness,
Loosed by a man at peak performance,
Trespassed the scarlet black king's sanctuary above weapons,
Announcing their arrival.
A common knife, cracked open a waxy permission.
It hummed with a melody that sang only Cornelius,
May open my trust and read,
My heart.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC
I am a lair, I am a cheat
I fooled myself to believe
everything around me, I understand,
but now I can't, I can't pretend,
I'm losing my ways, my soul's been hit
my life is headed towards a bottomless pit.
Abandoning the oasis, I pursued a mirage
ended up in a swamp now I can't get away
I'm being pulled down by the gravity of hate.
On this fathomless desert, I'm stranded; alone and scared
scorching heat, freezing cold; fearing life that I never cared,
Each day clinging to the flickers of hope
that one of these days someone will come to my rescue,
a wanderer such as myself or an angel, I don't know
or I'll just be drowned here without a clue.
Tired and lone now I laugh at time's stern jape
knitting the sad iffy dreams of my escape.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 3:32 AM UTC
On a front-row-center throne
The Would-be King relaxes.
Besides him rests his Lady-Queen
In tsunamis of green satin.
He’s enjoying all the accolades
In the Hallowed Halls of drama
Surrounding their appearance,
Where the monkey trio entertains
And fashion marches to and fro
Clutching heavy bits of tinsel.
All is merriment and joy
Until the Jester makes a jape
That earns a queenly frown
Which stirs the King to wipe his smile
And stalk onto the dais
Where he
slaps
the Jester on his cheek,
And wearing traces of a smirk
Marches back down to his throne.
The Jester lofts a lame response
Into a sea of stunning silence
Then the air turns shades of Royal blue
And American TVs go deaf
For thirty-seven seconds
While across the seas the
Audience enjoys the
Braying of a *******
Believing he’s impervious
Or maybe he is Sampson
The King pulls down the ancient walls
Of cherished film tradition
Reducing what was dignified
To a rank back alley rumble
Then later makes a fake obeisance
Awash with phony tears and snot.
All hail the King of Hollywood
They should take back his golden prize
To penalize his hubris -
And let him know rules still apply.
And cause some real tears in his eyes.
ljm
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 3:29 PM UTC
My myopic eyes
in the whitewashed veins
dissolved a Solar Eclipse once,
sprinkled slowly in the transparent ponds
of vision,
through a negative film of ours.
Call it now, The fate’s cruel jape.
A sky long-awaited
and devoid of sunlight
is forgotten forever.
I do remember though, the universe we created
in silence, while we lent our voices
to an air that couldn’t speak.
The negative is now a mere vicissitude of colors,
for a time that went lost in translation.
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC