"rebounded" poems
to run a mess of things
lies, ties, and unspeakable rings,
you cannot convince me
if you were a gypsy
spun so fine,
claiming things, unknown klepto,
funny, thought i would never know?
unlike you, though... i did let go.
in dance
a rebounded, but failed, fanned romance,
a verbal tribute
to bounce around my notebook.
take a long look
see the crystal,
can you see it at all?
but even if i fall, i still remain
ive heard the rumors of fire and fire
ive once experienced that ****** up desire.
but i fight bold, whilst you fight cold
your little "friends" line-- was rehearsed and old.
so if you are a gypsy
can you too take a journey
leave the past,
and never come back?
cause the only person honestly
qualified
was the one whom couldnt
lie.
but to see the eventual Fail.
and watch you come crawling
tended an open wound
and got the ball all rolling.
if you were a gypsy
you would have known me
long before, you opened this door
and forever remembered as a ....
funny, its predictable
to know how i am prepared
with this and much more
but now i know i am capable.
so, if you were a gypsy
you would have flown free
once the parasite could be breached
he could have happy...?
but unlike a gypsy
you dont have the grace
but its all too easy
when his resin is all over your face.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
The first time I fell in love was on a basketball court
Adrenalin was pumping
The sound of sneakers squeaking across the floor echoed in our ears
I rebounded the ball and passed to the point guard
We quickly adjusted our offense
I was in the pocket
Bounce pass to me
Quick lay-up
It’s in
But it wasn’t long before I fell in love again
The second time I fell in love was with painting
I painted anything and everything
My room, bathroom, lamps, clothing
And sometimes even canvas
The satisfaction of prying open a new can of paint
Watching the wet paint gather then drip off the lid and slide into the can
Or looking at your dried palette after completing a painting
The feeling is indescribably in words
But I still played basketball
The third time I fell in love, I neglected my old hobbies
This time it was with a boy
Pale face, auburn hair and green eyes
He had a kind smile and assured me the world could be ours
And it was
For two years
And even though the last time I played ball was
A drunken night outside a brewery in Tel Aviv
And even though the last time I painted I used
A sponge and toothbrush
And even though the last time I saw that smile
It was no longer mine to behold
I still love all these things
But now, I see them in a different way
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 12:52 AM UTC
In my black forest I was passing through
To get to where the mountains grew
I came upon a pitiful sight
In the early morning just after night
Dew was still glistening on the ground
When I heard that crashing, growling sound
I knew a great bear was on a rampage
It was a pure white hot outrage
About to turn and go the other way
Blood curdling screams rebounded off the forest decay
And I knew I must go try to save the day
An occupied man had heen writing in his script
And over the baby cub he had tripped
Mother bear heard her baby's cry
And with red molten furry in her eyes
She was ripping that poor man apart
His blood was spraying with every claw mark
In order to get the furious bear away
I knew an incantation that I could say
I didn't want to hurt her it wasn't her fault
The careless man had triggered this assault
“Mother bear of the forest
This attack I can not warrant
Vanish all your angry claws
And your teeth from jaws
But do not discourage, and take heart
For as soon as you depart
You will regain your missing parts”
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
I made this path my own
I laid these stories out like bricks upon the ground...
As i walked they rose up behind me to create a wall.
An archaic brick by brick, blow by blow, defense.
At the moment i learnt to write, my name,
and to the fists that grabbed my hair, made my breakfast and told me,
'I find it hard to love you';
there began, the foundations of my wall.
Stories about the loving punches of a lover,
the cheating of a best friend, who took my trust to town,
and the loss of my father's approval.
Lines were dug, and the stones laid, down.
Subconsciously i forgot to feel love.
I forgot what it was like to feel another's voice in my ear,
whispering sweet nothings,
of my beauty and the whole entirety of sweet rapture i exulted.
And my path stacked up behind me.
I forgot what it was like,
the thrill of a hand slipping into mine, a kiss on the neck,
it made me blush.
And my wall rose up proud and fierce.
I got scared, adrenalin coursed through my veins,
as i wondered what this new sensation was
and i questioned the very nature of the action.
And my wall rose to the occasion and flung off the feeling of security.
I forgot the thrill of the chase,
compliments rebounded from my ears,
and i laughed at the words 'i love you'.
And my walls closed in.
I forgot the feeling,
of being safe.
Of lying in someone's arms and feeling it was just o.k,
to be like this.
And my walls became an alleyway.
I walked and walked,
sometimes i ran,
but i never, ever, ever looked back.
I stuffed these compliments, hand holding and back-to-chest memories
in the bricks
and scribbled on them
'love is not real', 'you are unworthy', 'love is just a word'
in black marker pen, bold and thick in line,
so i could one day i could find them,
maybe take them down and find my way out.
But these bricks had become 2ft, 3ft, 4ft deep.
I searched for new lovers, new friends, new beings,
to show me what love was,
but each time i made the same mistake;
I believed in the beauty i thought love was,
because i had forgotten,
but my lesson wasn't learnt.
I scribbled my insecurities on those bricks.
And how i miss those days of those **** infernal butterflies,
those **** feelings,
those feelings, i tried so hard to lose so long ago.
My feelings, set in mortar and concrete.
I understand my path is not set,
my past is behind me,
but i am lost,
i am lost,
I. Am. Lost.
Love is not logical.
Love is not set in stone.
Love is not to be captured, or held over by dominion.
I cannot understand love, or to be loved; it's written somewhere in my past.
Someone once held my face and called me beautiful,
and i lost the will to believe it,
and i made this path my own.
And now i subconsciously walk alone.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
We took a bus to Wilmington
And skipped a dream or two
In order to be cognizant—
When the “Are we there yet’s”
Rebounded void of “yet.”
We parked the bus adjacent to
The paint-peeling facade
Of lonely temple Wilmington—
Threatening no demon of the sky
With a keenly polished death spike.
It had no spendthrift window of
Christ Jesus with the sick
And poor, neglected derelicts—
Who glow with jubilee and gold chloride
For His altruistic charities.
Across its door was fastened tight
A rusted iron chain
Which barred the shallow, blinkered souls—
Who loitered at the barrier’s feet
Waiting on God to warrant entry.
But we who were of cogent view
Detached deterring catch
And entered with our chins *****
A light-bulb-vacant sanctuary
Where taciturn shadows took a seat in every pew.
And down a velvet aisle stood
A lonely, weeping priest
Inhaling in unblemished palms—
That not a single pious doubter
Would dare inspect.
“Welcome to my church,” he said
With breathless, choking sobs,
“I am the congregation here—
The pastor, choir, usher, and Sunday school teacher
Of Wilmington Church of Reason.”
Inquired we what hidden woe
Enlaced with torment cast
Those salt discharged convulsions—
Quaking the sanctity of exultation
In the House of Apollo.
And with concise, unleavened words
He justified his tears
And whispered to our weary troop—,
“Alone, alone am I,
Isolated within this box of omitted truth.
“O, give me soothing slumber deep
And strip these sentient eyes
From ghastly sheaths of consciousness—
Repair this mended paradigm,
Or tell me that I am mistaken.
“Imaginary friends and foes
Make wretched hearts a wreath
Of roses red and mistletoe—
And bird of paradise to keep
Hope alive, alive and awake and well, hope alive…”
So each of us, a brimming cup
Of empathy, remained
To keep old pastor Wilmington—
Old usher, choir, teacher, congregation Wilmington
Alive and awake and well.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 6:09 AM UTC
Sloshing round the bay road
through the foot-deep potholes,
glorying in the rain-lashed dark
as the wind made the phone-lines sing
I saw him. Brown, dishevelled, shivering -
a leveret, bamboozled by torchlight
diminished in his dripping fur,
wild eyes wide and startled.
Trying to leap aside, he caught the fence,
rebounded, tried again,
landing this time in a muddy sheuch,
a wired brown ball of panic.
"You'll not last long in this, wee man,"
I muttered, scooping him up,
dropping him into the deep dark pocket
of my raincoat.
Home we went, where two boys waited.
I quickened my pace, eager
to be the father bearing surprises,
to widen the cast-list of this adventure.
We dried him off, the boys enchanted.
He unfolded. He raised his head.
He bounded round the kitchen
on impossible elastic legs.
"Let's call him Charlie!" cried Robin,
and we did.
Charlie the Hare.
Alien, crazy, impatient.
When the rain eased
and Charlie was dry,
I put him back in my pocket
for the journey round the bay.
The last I saw of him
he was bounding out of sight
indifferent to the interlude
engaged in other things.
Those wild eyes that looked beyond
had no place in a cosy kitchen
this was no pet, no human companion
there was no understanding
But every time we see a hare,
the boys say, "I wonder if that's Charlie!"
and it glows against the backdrop
of nature's unfathomable canvas.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
He came as an orphan
June 26th, 1865
Having seen
the death of his mother
Chased and speared by a hunter
First African elephant
in Europe
At the London Zoo
All alone
in all of Europe
How he broke and wore his tusks
In the iron of his enclosure
In night pain from toothaches
From many rotten teeth
Caused by his only grass hay diet
Given whiskey and beer to calm
Shared with his keeper
Matthew Scott, a difficult man
With no close friends
But with a deep empathy for animals
Who drank whiskey
with Jumbo
Into the late, lonely night
Jumbo liked whiskey, beer
and lots of sticky buns
A problematic elephant
With a Jekyll and Hyde character
Sold for 2,000 pounds
To PT Barnum
as a star attraction
Jumbo tearing his chains away
Then sitting like a mule
Until he knew his keeper
Would also ride the boat
Across the big pond
Barnum’s Scott
Made a deal
Queen Victoria wasn’t happy
Her children had sat
And rode upon his back
Jumbomania in America
Accompanied his arrival
20 million saw him alive
Brooklyn bridge opened in 1882
A year before Jumbo arrived
Then 17 May, 1884
Twenty elephants
marched across
All the way to Brooklyn
led by Jumbo
The bridge vibrated and rebounded
In St Thomas, Ontario, Canada
was his suffering demise
The day the circus train came to town
Tom Thumb and Jumbo
Were waiting to get loaded
Perhaps bumped in the ****
By the speeding freight locomotive
Internal bleeding
and a slow death
Tom Thumb only a broken leg
Jumbo in a slow death
Scott in a slow death afterwards
Having witnessed
the last breath
Of his best friend
Photographed (a recent novelty)
just after his death in B&W
Poor dead Jumbo
Scott at his head
Weeping inconsolably
Although PT Barnum
In pure PT Barnum invention
Says Jumbo ran headfirst
Into the freight locomotive
To save his keeper and Tom Thumb
Jumbo died
at twenty-four
still young
and growing
in size and girth
His stuffed mounted skin
burned at Tufts University
except the unbroken bones
plus the end of his tail
“And this is what remains of Jumbo”
Yesterday, I saw wild elephants on the banks of the Zambezi river
near Victoria Falls
Tomorrow I’m hoping to touch Jumbo’s bones in New York City
And walk the Brooklyn Bridge
© 2017 Jim Davis
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
Here he comes,
with united forces.
Trelawney did a prediction,
the boy born at end of month,
ends your action.
The dark lord wanted to be immortal,
so he killed a mortal.
Not the boy but this father.
he tried to **** the boy.
“Avada kedavra” He shouted ,
but the spell rebounded.
Dark lord was killed .
Every one was in riddle,
come back tom riddle.
Years passed,
history repeats,
forces re-unite.
Harry and friends destroying the horcruxes.
Again he shouts”Avada kedavra”.
And finally,
Gone are the horcruxes,
gone are the death eaters
and gone is the dark lord.
(Well i want to say something i don't fear his name. He's VOLDEMORT!!!!)
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
The scientists flung the Rosetta
like spinning a ball in rouletta.
The nerds were annoyed
when their progeny buoyed.
All was saved with a back turbojeta
Settling down on an icy ast'roid,
which was neither oblong nor spheroid,
they said "Philae be grounded",
instead she rebounded
and almost was lost in the void.
With war games and money misdealt
the project was left needing gelt.
And cells lacking power
sent nerds to the shower
while watching the meteor melt.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Somebody threw you
Away. Wow. To stay.
Black cat
Splat!
Fur ball
Hiss! Rrrawll!
Then Buddy Boy sounded
You rebounded.
Now, shifted
Impulse conflicted
(Claws on paws
Teeth unsheathed
Twitchy touch
Playing rough)
Now relaxed
Switched back
Lil’ Draculina loves him
Under chin
Loves me
Kneads me
Right back
Black cat!
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 9:27 PM UTC
There goes
the last string
I trusted not to snap
There goes
the last string
I trusted
All the other strings
are mended
taped
flimsy
Can I trust
strings again?
Such unreliable things strings are
how silly of I to think
the string wouldn't snap on me
Of course it did
you stupid gullible girl
It snapped and rebounded
stinging your fingers
ouch.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
Springing forth from slumbered quest
a smile adorned by vapid breath.
Elephants give rise to thunderous steps
a cry, some calamity, then more rest.
Bits have changed, good will blessed,
shards of self collected, an inspired mess.
Pieces went missing, when the hammer dropped
but there he is, standing ... looking back up.
His fashion changed, face perked up,
the meaning clarified, was this good luck?
Chipped and cracked, dazzling flare
light rebounded... as light as air.
The bits hit by roaming bands,
illuminating through time, permanence arcane.
Fruition came to pass,
a soldier, a real trooper, regained dignity.
As bit by bit, the pieces fit,
and were joined by shards of the land.
www.robross.ca
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 10:14 PM UTC
We wasted it so
We wasted our souls
Like storm clouds
we broke out
and flooded the seeds
we needed to grow
You held on to me
You tried so hard to see
when I rebounded
from breakdowns
that seemed to wear
down your strong spirit
that you needed to go on
We were stranger than
fiction through our
contradictions
You drifted within me
I poured within you
your currents of
reason to my torrents
of questions
We were
drowning in unison
But as you freed me and
I freed you as we were
both set free by the eternal
Source of freedom
we need to keep on doing
our part in what we need
to keep on being free.
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 9:14 AM UTC
I remember the first time i knew i loved you. We were sitting on the stairs of a pool that didn't belong to us and you were smiling at me like you could see something good in me. The sun rebounded off of the water and made your eyes squint like they were trying to smile like your mouth was. But the first time i was allowed to tell you i loved you was the morning before school when you wrote a poem for me to tell me that you loved me. I didn't even get to read it all the way because i saw those three words before anything else and my face blushed like it was 100 degrees even though it was winter. I say that i was finally allowed to say it because i was afraid that if i said it first you would run away, because you were a dream that finally came true and you were my best friend, my savior, my first love, my whole world. We didn't see each other as often as we wanted, but that's how i knew i really loved you, because our relationship didn't require *** or physicality to complete it like every other relationship. We were terrified of life, but mostly i was terrified of you. The thought of you was so fragile that I was afraid of speaking your name out loud in fear that it might shatter. But your voice was like every soft hello ever said to me at once, and when you left it was like every shouted goodbye. I can still feel the curve of your giant hands over mine, making me feel like the smallest human being possible, but in a good way. You consumed me. I had never met a man that i loved with everything inside of me until i met you. I loved you until i was blue in the face and couldn't feel my lungs. You were the best thing that had ever happened to me. On new year's, i ran to you and you picked me up and spun me around like a sappy 80's movie that makes teenage girls cry. You kissed me and told me that you didn't care if the world ended in 2012, as long as you had me. But then we grew apart, which was ironic because we wanted to be with each other so bad that we couldn't stand each other anymore. I loved you for a long time after that. I thought that we would spend the rest of our lives together, you saved my life and i tried to save yours and it was me who got you help that December. I thought that maybe you would be my first everything but i guess that won't happen. We've both changed and a lot has happened since then, but I still love you but in a different way now. Tonight made me remember what it was like to be your best friend again. My face still blushed and i didn't stop smiling one bit and it was nice to hold you again, even if it was just for a second. I missed your laugh, that was always one of my favourite things about you because the creases of your eyes wrinkled together and you smiled with your whole face, not just your mouth. But i missed the way you said my name, it always sounded safe in your voice. You make me feel safe. Thank you for teaching me how not to drown.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC
love is a two way mechanism.
it needs to be rebounded to work.
without the rebound, it changes.
becomes self hate, loathing, hurt.
the thing that makes it two way.
it needs to be given to be received.
if you give all your love away.
packages covered with bright paper.
then there is none left for you.
your love is required to be given back.
with the force that you gave to them.
this is why one sided love fails to work.
with no one to ricochet it back to you.
stronger than they received.
your love disappears, flies away.
you fall down into darkness.
and keep falling.
down deeper.
down darker.
down colder.
you hope that you’ll find light.
someday you will, hopefully.
you’ll find someone who is able.
strong and perfect for you.
the right things in the right person.
who will hand you back presents.
packages of love thought long lost.
given with a smile and bow on top.
wrapped with a return address.
only for the one who gave it.
to be returned some day.
when you find the light.
your love.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
Morning's splattered with nights remains.
Clouds toss beige and tear stained rain.
Mud smearing the patio doors.
Rebounded from bouncing rain.
The echoes of the blazing row.
Last night was then and now is now.
She stirs inside
Loves listening to the rains that pour.
Safety behind the layered glass.
Her loneliness in safety.
Home safeguards her heart.
Sad that one is warm inside,
when laying all alone.
She's digging deep into her head.
To find some reins,
To take control,
Far too long led.
Getting angry.
Her eyes burn red,
and black and blue.
If only,
If only he would realise.
If only he knew,
That shortly his mother will knock him down to size.
(C)LIVVI
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
Am I just supposed to keep putting myself in predicaments of pain?
Feeling the impending rejection time and again
Second guessing till I'm driven insane
Losing patience in this waiting game
Unsure if there's anything to gain
Amongst all this loss
Reason I walked away in the first place
Rebounded back as I felt the strain
Hoping things would change
But have they?
Have they changed?
I don't think so
And is it my right to wish it?
Have I changed?
I don't know
And though it's hard to admit it
What I want to grow
Is not what I need to grow
And though I'm reaching my limit
This was all about letting go
From the start right to the finish
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
I fell down
into a field of flowers today
I found that the petals of the rose
looked more like the rotting limbs
of the putrid dead to me
The buds of spring
reminded me of hope
that would never bloom
even the fresh green grass
took on a hue of despair
I flew from the nest at eighteen
with resolve to never come back
I am thirty-four now, and
after too many women
too many heartaches
too many years as a soldier
I have collapsed back into that nest
my life has rebounded full circle
I am a failure
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 2:38 AM UTC
You sing yourself to sleep each night,
A hushed, whispered lullaby
Of the battles you fight.
Dance around your demons,
Make them wish they weren’t yours.
Made of scars, we are who we are…
Wish all you want on that shooting star,
But you’ll never go anywhere,
Without moving your feet.
You think there’s something wrong with you,
But we all feel that incomplete…
We all know there’s something more,
Weather we inquire,
Or weather we ignore,
Makes all the difference here.
Come to peace with yourself,
Stop beating up and picking on
Your imperfect aspects,
Or else they’ll just keep coming back.
Give yourself some credit.
A pat on the back,
Never killed anyone.
There’s nothing wrong with feeling low,
But know, there’s always a way back up.
We are yin and yang,
Bonded to sin, and rebounded for our own gain.
You don’t need to be “fixed”
There was nothing wrong with you to begin with,
Simply a misunderstanding…
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
back in the days.....
when i was youthful
bright longing in my eyes.
when life was
a desperate struggle
based on a whim....
i found myself at a place
edge of a valley
start of a mountain
holding back ,
whilst ....
looking forward,
balanced on the rim....
of a new horizons skin.
what to do....... what....
dive
back into the shadow
climb
up into the light.
walking...
on a tightrope
of fraying indecision
circling...
round and round.
years of making myself
dizzy...
with fury
and
rebounded thought
pinging,slinging, stinging
doubt....
about which way
back...
forth...
back
(g)round....and (g)round
wore myself a groove,
with witless, wistful pacing.
a grave slowly shuffled out,
deeper, darker...
valley dark,
mountain light,
grey grave groove...
on the cusp between.....
mental twilight...........
had me enthralled,
everday shufflin...
till,
when...then.. somehow...
i...
ceased ......
to be me,
frightened to decide....
.........epiphany........
any whichway
was better than this.....
grinding, ground down
groove worn grave.
small steps, giant leaps.
i found grace was in
believing.....
found was in the looking,
laughter in the smiling
life was in the living.
direction was merely mindful
deception....
coralling random disposition.
for one
up
for another.....
down
purpose is a delicate
preponent,
in decsion making choices
attitude the fulcrum
on which it all approximates.......
valley dark
mountain light
both wrong
both right
take .....
a step,
a leap,
a bound,
a flight,
of fortunate fancy....
........or petulant plight.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
I was a person
when cigarettes were cheap and drank
without guilt, chased
the man in the moon dreams: visible ,
possibilty was my friend existed where
a penny was worth a thought
food was keen words
sweet as pickle juice on apple pie, eyes looked
in love sighs,
the
smooth and soft skin rebounded
with biscuits ate
if fallen fell without indigesting
buttered side up
all naive, all the fantasies
as reality.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
In my black forest I was passing through
To get to where the mountains grew
I came upon a pitiful sight
In the early morning just after night
Dew was still glistening on the ground
When I heard that crashing, growling sound
I knew a great bear was on a rampage
It was a pure white hot outrage
About to turn and go the other way
Blood curdling screams rebounded off the forest decay
And I knew I must go try to save the day
An occupied man had heen writing in his script
And over the baby cub he had tripped
Mother bear heard her baby's cry
And with red molten furry in her eyes
She was ripping that poor man apart
His blood was spraying with every claw mark
In order to get the furious bear away
I knew an incantation that I could say
I didn't want to hurt her it wasn't her fault
The careless man had triggered this assault
“Mother bear of the forest
This attack I can not warrant
Vanish all your angry claws
And your teeth from jaws
But do not discourage, and take heart
For as soon as you depart
You will regain your missing parts”
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 12:05 PM UTC
Polly arose from the from the gaze of her foes
On a regular digital beam
She rebounded through life in a bubble of smoke
Cos she thought that she lived in a dream
Polly applied to the opposite side
Of a battle which nobody fought
While seated quite still, she retreated at will
For she knew that she couldn't be caught
Polly retired on the wealth she'd acquired
With a tangible air of the throne
There was little to say when she faded away
But they made something up for the stone
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
Preparing for a cataclysm
Not for the faint of heart
Tornadoes are tempestuous
Tsunamis, quick to start
A lethal strain of chicken-pox
Can wander on the breeze
And flu attacks acutely
With an uninvited sneeze
But no historic incident
Disaster or decline
Can match that of the Wobbling
Of nineteen fifty nine
It started over breakfast
With a rippling in the juice
The spoons were jiggled savagely
And dentures rattled loose
The condiments were quivering
The sauces sat and twitched
Cookies cracked and crumbled
And couples came unhitched
Horses bolted randomly
And ran around in squares
The pensioners reverberated
Rocking in their chairs
The birdies in their downy nests
Were bounced about the trees
The cars rebounded in the street
And stacked themselves in threes
Eyeballs turned alarmingly
The clouds flipped upside down
The church bells all played chopsticks
And the fish began to drown
The roads became entangled
And bunched up into knots
The pencils slipped their cases
Leaving tiny lines of dots
The cities were in uproar
The noise like solid thunder
As puddings toppled needlessly
And Jelly fell asunder
Furniture was undulating
Hats abandoned stand
Sailors found their sailing legs
A hundred miles inland
But just as it had started
The tremble shook no more
And one again, humanity
Could start to trust the floor
The roads were combed and straightened
And nestled back in place
The spoons were fastened safely
And eyeballs turned to face
The parrots were sedated
And locked up in their cages
Books were shelved and sorted out
With bookmarks in their pages
The world returned to normalcy
And soon, no single sign
Was left to tell the tale
Of the Wobble of fifty nine
**
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 8:29 PM UTC