"scads" poems
Rising from the water
like a fragrant cupcake.
Seeds floating in the stream
increasing from the wake.
Blue and purple
blooms onto to the pads.
Roaming and roaming
across ripples in scads.
Growth so pretty
and basin so new.
Lily so delicate
and purely blue.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
The door throbs with sweat
In the morning-tide
"Whom can come at this time?"
A friend, I bet.
I stalk the sound until I reach the ****
I open it to see the face of a cop.
Some questions spewed out of the mans mouth,
about if I have seen this other man printed on some page.
Then showed me of this woman,
which coincidentally is the one I've been raised.
They stepped in with no approbation
Suddenly, the atmosphere grew with scads of tension.
They access themselves into my home.
And snooped about the room, with noses to the ceiling.
I got this panicky feeling.
Again with the interrogation.
The only thing that fled through my mind was irritation.
Words came at me and caused an explosion.
Never have I felt more broken...
I constructed this stockade
to stable myself from memory lane.
And to have it easily be destroyed,
made me realize of all that I've been trying to avoid.
The men left, leaving me with bricks to recollect.
It was not a friend, that I have bet...
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
None but he who calls me, me,
thinks of me
as doer of
the deeds we see were done, or
must have been done,
ere I was error there of, as
beauties, if such do yet make
plans for chances I can take
as hope, sent deep to meet me,
as has been done, hoped over
plans, in me, object I point
at you. See, we are they who do
say you see the banner wave,
o'er the legendary home, aye,
of free and brave, learn-
ed and led by the learned away,
to find the me who started
thinking things we say are prayer,
this, nada mas, this we have
as we think, we have, this we,
I, me and you. Please be real. Amen.
The out of body designation,
after life, after ever once begun,
rounds the bend in time to find you.
That is mine, you said to he-
he who calls me, me, he may be
too dense to pass through, solid state.
Activated Intelligence,
see the odds, gads, scads of
notta chances remain to test,
may good enough to try, get by,
as among the best, for umph,
at the last wish in any set of three
kinds of minds full of found
ways this could occur or happen
to seem felt right, enough for now.
- the binge, a novel passtime,
- focus, intent, on hero stories fit
- slicker than snot to viral ideas…
We sneeze, sometimes in threes,
all the breathers who think in me terms,
studies show we mostly sneeze in threes;
------------------------
we get vaccines in threes, and we live on
Between April 26 and July 10, 1954,
volunteers distributed Salk's series of three polio shots….
From <https://www.google.com/search?q=first+polio+vaccine+roll+out&oq=first+polio+vaccine+roll+out&aqs=chrome..69i57j33i22i29i30.9668j1j15&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8>
Dec 20, 2021
Dec 20, 2021 at 1:35 PM UTC
I am
my very best friend
and most prominent
obstacle.
I am
the keeper of
all my secrets
and the teller
of some.
I am
the great, unnerving
adventure that
never ends.
I am
consumed by
curiosity and wonder,
and seldom pacified
with answers
which only lead me
down yet another
tangled web.
I am
the poetry in motion
and the walking story
in my head,
dressed in
scads of tendrils
colored in ideas
and thoughts.
I am
the sinner
and the saint.
I cast a shadow
at whim,
even when there is
no sun.
I am
the magic elixir
and I am
the wine.
I am
the great Oz,
the Capt. Hook,
and the mad
Mad Hatter
of my world.
Always be aware,
stay constantly alert,
for not even I know
through which trap door
I will go
within the labyrinth
of this mind...
perhaps
leaving a bit
of shrouded evidence
behind.
-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder?
For I was torn between the wondrous musing
And the unfaithful, the treacherous verity.
Dad said that it lies in the wit and the wisdom,
Mom believed it to be synonymous with serenity!
I roved in reverie, pottered with presumptions;
What is beauty? From where does it emanate?
But may be, there was no oasis to my quest.
The answer breezed in and out, gusted here and there;
To catch hold of it was a big, big test!
Was it the reflection in the mirror?
The unbearable, the ill-favoured, it couldn't be.
The face that lacked glow, the face sans any sheens,
It longed for glory, for eminence.
I sighed; for was beauty the boulevard to my dreams?
There are the gifts of botany lacking blossoms,
And scads of scars blotching the moon.
But never could they blotch my view:
Splendor couldn't stop itself descending upon my eyes!
Even in murk, even in dim, I could descry hue.
'Twas in my eyes, they could life the lifeless
Like a shore serenading a cove or
The Ocean constantly kissing the shoreline.
These epitomised allure, incarnated love.
For me, it was an emotion 'divine'!
I realised: Not in the skinny legs and the fair hands
It is found in the vivacity of spirits.
Neither in the mascara nor in the mole;
Beauty has never found it's way through these,
It resides in the heart, in the soul.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
Scads that stalk and made summer
with righteous clamor
their soul searching voice now taciturn for prose
when a nightshade glisten best
in a round table of choice they frocked noble propose
if a dirk and cloak were there
while choir was equivocal rejoice
with nonchalance wound smatter his chest
whom did say he was right?
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 8:00 AM UTC
Umpteen Gods control me
and Zillion brethren alike
born of scads of clans we are mutts
Howling at a moon yowling back
guttural vibration echoing, veering a tempo
towards a tempest tempting temptation itself
These windstorms hailing on a juncture
that infinity will not allow to stop
boggle me into complete
Unrestingly humble obedience
Until I’m not
and a Zillion others follow in suit
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 7:40 AM UTC
Control factor
reports back to home
lets mother know
how the kids are doing
there is minimal damage,
only their brains
seemed to have turned milky....
short fused
It must be in the air,
or so the water carries
in flagrant disguise
so much sickness
What is left over
will only remain in darkness
in shallow water
These burials come quick
No not too deep
we want to smell
blue carnage
Scads a legion
herds of people
like cattle, drenched and soaked
from head to toe
We bury you
let eyeball peer through
so you can still see
the red mud
the many faces
contorted piles
one massive cadaver
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
Surrounded by death,
An eternity,
Of regrets.
Scads of disgraces,
And calamities,
Deep nightmares
Torment rules deep hell,
Intense fire burns,
Underworld.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 4:25 PM UTC
paul kelly telling yarns
in the background,
harmonica and guitar
vista: spring hopeful
as a large butterfly
scads on by
temperature a perfect mix
of balmy and zephyr breeze
on that breeze the salt and coconut
foretelling summertime glories
condensation pearls, then rolls gently
down the glass of my g&t
the remnants of a crab and prawn roll
lay on the indgo blue plate, like art abstract
a single tear slides down my cheek
as I acknowledge it is one more year
happy birthday ....dear departed you
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 10:11 AM UTC
I caught the tail of cigarette
In the parting peal of breath.
And even as he walked away
The shame washed all the words away.
I've written scads of nonsense, hence-
A futile need to recompense.
But all of this means nothing now
And nothing lends to reason how-
He may have strode those parting steps
To leave when there was nothing left.
But my words fed the final blow
The nail to coffin down below.
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC