"tither" poems
Surrealist Cut-up
them of drooping
perspective them blue water lilies,
branches boughs, the blue wavering
illuminated that window is causing These the stars
in moonlight, to shiver; late in
a ripple, then, blooming
The clouds, sky, tither.
Figurative-Literal
These the stars then, blooming
late in the blue sky,
a ripple is causing them to shiver;
The clouds, perspective
branches of drooping boughs,
that window them
blue water lilies, illuminated
in moonlight, wavering tither.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Twinkle twinkle
Star above
Your star shined so brightly
beyond and above
Twinkle twinkle
Star above
I've never seen such glitter
with such a tither.
With such great beauty
above this beauty
One day your here
The next your there.
Twinkle twinkle
You sneeky star
I seen you move!
I seen you move!
With such great speed!
l seen you move!
Awe you where just a satalite?
Or maybe
just a delight!
Thanks for your twinkles!
Thanks for your lights!
Twinkles where great!
Twinkles where nice!
kt
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
When I was younger:
I shuffled along,
to no urgent song,
didn't march through my day strong. When young and strong are the best time for planned convictions.
There's no acting lazy, or slowing down to the crazy, unless you want to live ungracefully in this hard unforgiving world.
When I was younger:
I lacked logic cause I didn't make clear my premise,
like a man with no plan, a sap with no map. I wandered tither and yonder like a ghoal without a goal, a ghost least of most, no future to ponder.
When I was younger:
I bogged down in metaphorical feces cause I didn't watch where I was wading, forsaking and debating, planning is for suckers, futures are for chuckers.
When I was younger:
I did nil and stood still while the city raced around me, progress to astound thee, forgetting the earth constantly rotates 260 miles an hour- waiting for no one.
When I was younger:
Like the Dodo bird I forgot to grow wings, was eatin by rats and things, became extinct and unlinked to a place run on business, consumerism and cash. On the rocks I was dashed.
When I was younger:
I became he who loses, with a broken compass and excuses, laying laggardly leaderless, with the snoozing and the boozing, and sold my initiative for a bag of grass.
That's when I was younger:
I'm older than that now. But I still remember. It's hard being younger!!
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
On her knee sat a pallet of paints, a blank canvas and the trees, slowly her eyes closed into the emerald depths,
Once not long ago, the splendour of winters nature witch was in silent slumber on crisp meadows, gone are blood berries of Holly’s frozen clusters, I see hedges spiked and glossy leaves,
Awake I am moving past the trees, nowever will I wonder in glades of silver and green, I am a gentle jewel entwined within trees
High pitch calls of the little owls are peeking, the woods be alive
Little Robin Ruby Red breast is showing a deep chest, serenading me,
A badger munching and crunching yonder I see,
Tiny oak trees sprouting upward, a little gift from the squirrel’s scurrying year
High above, a Raven black ink to my eyes.
A jet feather is floating free, a gift from my beloved woods in mind
Feeling the leaves dancing among big oaks trees, maples, beech and twigs are spiraling down enchanting on me,
Whispering are the leaves that move, now dark, now light
In the morn Wildwood tear drops of sliver hung on clever leaves, fairies are laughing hither tither and yon, sun catching their smiles in glitter,
Golden rays bow to the dancers in the green glens and groves
Apple and pear trees laden with blossom perfume the air,
Sweet grass is tickling my legs, and lady bird red wing sings in the passing warm breeze, gazing upon Blue bell carpets just for me
Into nights spell
A voice wind runs through my hair, come and dance by the edge of the sea, I will guild you on a moon beam a bride to be, cooling the passion you feel, Beech nut husks crunch at my feet, and acorns marbles are laughing at me
Wildwood possessed dew drop lips, majestic of night in the glades of silver green,
Summer’s evening fire warming the passion you feel, dressed in cotton, wire and silks purple be, I am who you invoke and have always been, come to the edge of the Wildwood's near the sea to dance come be thee
── Gently her eyes fluttered open, lifting her brush, smiling she began her self-portrait among the trees.
© Arnay Rumens / A Sol Poet T20.2014
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
Mixy-Twixy
Atom-Smasher
Take my brain
I hope it's matter
Break away from all the things we said we'd be
Internally
False pretense
On happenstance
All my socks have holes
Breaking molds
Of wither and tither
I keep your family on standby
Hand-holding lullaby
There was a cake on my doorstep
And a front porch on my brain stem
Again and again
And Asian
And never have I ever
Played a game with this many fingers
Following muffin-tops to your local coffee cart
There's a joke there
Breaking, breaking
Silence retaking
I haven't heard from you in a fortnight
Mind's eye
Zip-tie
Bedroom follies
I hope you get better
As I write letter by letter
And hope that you're not mad
Sad, enraged, but glad
Butt-mad and tired
Fired the liar
Who broke the back of the cat next door
Heart attack on front porches
Cause distress and sores
On the back of the man
Who did nothing but hoard
For more and more and more
God be with us, I do pray
But Mary take my prayers away
Make them better, I ask, I say
And send them to who needs them most
Today
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
How sad the trees be
when winter comes as fall leaves
and the flowers die
What consolation
is Venus’s forsaken
yielding spring to rise?
For once staring death,
summer fastens by a breath
and the flowers die
Yet made to know doom,
trees tither the chance to bloom
yielding spring to rise
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC
Sometimes,
late at night,
or early in the afternoon,
Sometimes in the morning
and sometimes during noon,
I get this itch on the grooves of my palm.
Then inner turmoil becomes instant calm,
Only if I fit a pen between my thumb,
and index finger,
And then that itch will move and tither,
and far away from my hand it'll slither
It'll work its' sneaky way inside my brain,
And halt to stop along the way,
To push my feelings, and my pain,
my insecurities, my fears, all drained,
and pulsing out through that very pen,
the itch made me hold once again.
And I'll bleed, and bleed and bleed,
until there's no more use for ink
And the minute that the ink runs out,
the itch disappears; without a sound!
When will it be back? Who knows?
Meanwhile, my breath returns,
The itch now scratched and my mind relieved,
My whole life was scribbled on a sheet.
And through that sheet my feelings sprout,
until that itch comes back around.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
It's a sad thing to see a mind wicker out.Have you ever had the distinct timing to sit and watch one lose their minds. Really weigh anchor and drift.? I have. On two occasions.
My, as an observer of the human condition,it is moth to flame-like.
Have you ever seen a helium balloon gently sailing to points unknown ?.
Hither and tither The word discombobulated seems worthy.Every gentle gust is it's master.
Or one party ornament broke loose from the park-party to snare and jitter as the string bickers with the needy high tension wire.
THEN THERE IS THE OTHER.
A MOTHER AND CHILD DISUNION. As she sits staring at the small gleaming casket well placed for all to see. Below the alter. I sit five rows back and I watch her falter.
God is watching they say and no sparrow shall fall they say.
But sure as night follows day I can hear her scream. A psychic ricochet soundless. WHY ?.
And later at the green acres.
manicured to perfection.
a six by hole dug with practiced precision. It waits. for the
slow procession.
the last flower tossed in. The thump of the first shovel of dirt.
And ashes to ashes. She walks away.
seems to saunter under ease of libation. Oh no.
A minds liberation.Ship leaving port.
Slowly navigates to deep and vast.
Gentle insanity at last. Maybe tearing later.
One piece missing from the puzzle forever.
Not an edge piece so as not to be noted easily.
Gone nonetheless.
Flip the switch to babies room. close the door.
Lights out.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
I wonder if you are going to whisper the same thing until it’s parts
Tither meaningless on the floor
Once the pieces are unspoken
They mean the most and
Once they are purged, the meaning becomes diluted
So be witty, clever and tease the playful words unspoken
Or my heart will be broken
Into pieces, down the same doorway
The silhouette of the significantly broken
Will be found
Faded
On the floor
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 12:27 AM UTC
Oh if I knew then
All That I claim as sin
How would I do a second time?
Would this try be fine?
Nay life is not a mere line
Of irreversibility
Yea life is but a river
Of a fluid givers love
That Steadily flows under
the songs of a Merry dove
As whitecaps wash and passive waves whither
So must all beings tither
to the coming peak
Of life's mysterious creek
And nearing the drop of life
With whitecaps, wind, and sanctity
I'll tell you now all that I know:
Though I know now
that knowing then
Was nearly preposterous, death screams dearly of life's relativity
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
A wicked wind carries a witch's spell
it's chill belying
the magma of hell
brought forth by incantations
drawing deep
from a dark magic well
The willow's sigh combines with the whisper
beckoning me tither
to an alter made from black iron
crowned by scepters
on which two crows perch
the earth around me seizes and spurts
with dead hands erupting from
the earth
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Their eyes moving hither & tither,
Accidentally enraptured on one another.
As soon as they met they fell in love❤,
Adding spice to life,just like clove.
Finally he confessed :
" Rose I love you" with a joyous cry,
She replied:
" My love, life without you is monotonous & dry"
He gifted red rosé *** to fair Rose,
Fair one affectionately cared for red,
They both came too close..
In her dreams she saw her love on death bed..
What happened? who did she see??
Did the plant die?
Or their relationship?
Or both?
But why did they leave her???
All started with restless eye,
Ending with an unexplained gudbye...
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
There's a whole display
Of an infinite array
The tither and tather
Please don't wither and wather
You are you unique and true
Don't compare yourself like a fool
They say to own your shade
Represent and hold pride
But in pride do they anguish
Failing to distinguish
The few unique colors
The shadow and darks
May we befriend them in Stark
Let us taste and feel the contrast
Without leaving my eye palette too abrash
Own your shade
Be-Dazzled in contrast
Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 8:23 AM UTC
When the mist rose,
fragrant painting the horizon red,
radiant in the evening sun,
emerged of roses a bed;
And we walk on
hand in hand
by a lotus pond
in some sapient
distant land.
The chorus of the stars,
hymn
to a limitless vast,
the vistas
that we held in those palms;
Little taps nimble on the roof tiles
the noon-song of the after-rain
drip-dripping sky.
It was I then, and -
you, as you are now.
Tither have you gone hiding?
Waiting at the edge of the platform,
last siren of the day,
dying into the night
rattling in the rails,
echoing in my soul;
Trudge
now long
to the aboveground
late bus, hedgewalking
past the cacti
in the garden next door;
flowered, thorn-bushes then
smirks
now the desert rose
crowned King
dew-frozen of the hour dim
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 12:22 PM UTC
Chill baby, it's the all acoustic set. Going home for the holidays.
A few laughs with Pops,
And never mind the drumsticks, her comes the *******
Here comes weeping
In a Shiite village,
400 dead in Sadr City,
And pass me the yams.
Did you see that interception?
Here comes the 3rd and long.
Here the sun falls away
In the twilight of winter.
I dream the Electro Light Fantastic. I'll see ghosts in
The mirror when I'm dreaming. None the wiser,
I saw it in fits and starts.
Better than waking on
New Year's morning in jail with the crazy lady 2 cells over yelling for a cigarette
Every twenty minutes
" Officer, can I have a cigarette?" I want to tell her
To shut up, Instead I ask
Her to get me one too.
And then I knew it's all come round.
Young and Stupid reporting for duty.
Not that it's my rag mag
Sad rag, nothing doing while
I try these new wings on for size. Its just the all acoustic set in a world of static.
Hazy cigarette voices
In trebelo. Though I threw
It out with the cookbook,
I have it all hanging on my sleeve. I thought it was all the rage. Later I found it was
Taxing on my soul.
This all acoustic set, away from the city lights and cyberspace. Left to one's devices, one sinks further into the page. What do you
Expect when candlelight
Falls across the flickering wall?
Two league below, a U Boat
Swims the Atlantic, Lost
In possibilities. Some mind
When I'm tongue tied like a lizard.
Kinda brings up Helsinki,
And she comes in all bells
And whistles. Me, I'm
All acoustic, something like a blank face, Low on cash
And overdrawn on character.
And the sun lights before
Columbus dragging up the rear. Man these ghosts
Linger in the hallway,
But it's better than crashing
The car into the statue
One Thanksgiving Eve.
The all acoustic set says
Death is a bore, Especially
After the ride in From France
I gave up meat some time ago, I gave up on you after
I got to the moon.
Well, it gets me out of the sun awhile. We'll get better when
The world catches up.
Sorry I changed the end around, but I thought it
Was the only out of Knoxville
Never mind The sage gravy,
I've got to tighten the lug nuts. A tither, but nothing on the rent.
And Hitchcock does the math,
While I corkscrew around the truth. While others weep
I dream of women laying in the sun. I guess it's better than ice cream in the rai n.
Who said pumpkin pie?
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 10:14 PM UTC
Comfort is nice but mundane bores
I must explore the wonders of sea
My thoughts take wings, zest soars
I set sail on my journey with glee
A crushing wave, a sudden slip
Yanking my board from under my feet
Hither tither I scramble for a grip
Boy this feels, anything but sweet
Not what I thought - no easy play
Things just aren't going my way
I look for reason, reason flees
Reason tells me meaning you’ll see
Tired of evil, tired of this ploy
I loosen my grip, I free control
In this moment, I now enjoy
The ebb and flow of the larger whole
A storm revisits, I know the drill
I'm tossed again in life's caprice
I align my will with divine will
And now I sail the winds with ease
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC
The air is wet in the moist tears of the sky
vacant, and full of the fragrances of the hill flowers
Lone bird flying tither, looking for shelter.
adorning her forehead dishevelled the clouds
Looking confused, Phantasm woman hair
the early crescent moon looking lost,
Long travelled, when the soul longs for home,
there is none but the parnaked sky. Some warm clothes
familiar arms, a favourite soup. mirages a thirst.
When all is lost, there is hope. There is soul.
Wide earth, Call upon your vicars,
to learn your language and to be as you are,
to sing with the echoes and vanish with the shepherds.
I come here in homage, find me a home,
staring at the floating lamps dotting the dusk
distant hamlets in salsa with the stars.
Alight, for here, the bus stops.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
haunted
I am an unanswerable mystery to myself
pain
griefs food
belief in uncertainty
is like a medicine that makes me ill
loving the danger of things
like a tender ******
or the superstitious atheist
or the oversexed who convert to Catholicism
in a tither of religiosity
I lift Mother Mary's dress for a taste
irreducibly splintered inside
I feel
religion is quiet like the dead
and im pulsing sin
passionate perverted and metaphysical
a lover of hard headed ******
and goo girls
whispering ***** things in my ear
oooow mercy of nakedness
she holds my **** like a gun
pulls the trigger
and i pop her
panting she bleeds out butter ****
got her good
that big hearted ******* *******
criminal
the Devil has his contemplatives
as does God
and Christians say **** that
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 11:20 AM UTC
Fahrenheit of love
carry the dove
to and from
The Lord of peace
and gratitude and
be only what you need
in simplicity to be
as you are and
you exist because
you belong like a bubble of funk
in a soul jazz orchestra and it seems you are suspended with your surface dictated by the outward radiation of your innermost black hole diamond fire mirror sphere and the inward pressure of thousands of galaxies but you are infinitely effervescent, you bubbly buffoon, you take it easy there with your galactic monsoons, you hurricane gale force love storm! you can swirl an ocean into a whirlpool but let's have some fun lets have a lot and with our lovicanes we'll stir the *** till we see fit 'cause you know if you let it sit for too long the **** rises to the top so stir it up don't leave it up to luck you've got to jump into love and fall forever instead of tripping and falling like fickle birds of a feather so untie the tether and we'll go from hither to tither together and we'll make it better every time
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 9:40 PM UTC
When I find myself all in a tither
wondering and not knowing whether
I'll have enough time, energy or cash
you'll be by me anywhere in a flash.
All I have to do is think of you
focus on your wealth to get me through
you've got more than enough to get rid of
because your currency dear one is love.
"Currency," Copyright 2017 by Glenn Currier
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 7:47 AM UTC
late cab, where do you go
slicing through the silence
this damp hour?
it must be the night, for I'm
not worried-
though my phone's on
do you work late?
this is the worker's fate:
from father to son,
that we work to work ever harder ,
to break the tether
round our necks
invisible, but slavery -
when did it end?
it was the plantations then;
cabs and the keyboards now:
sugar grows on the brow
wet of the beaten man's sweat;
and oh we all want to rise,
far above from this shanty town
tither on that hill past the neon sea
so we dream, endlessly:
the reel
broken by the sound of rain
dripping on the roof
there are shadows that talk
very leaf is a witness
Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
Let me be
the river sea that flows up mountains
Hills and bees
Past the boughs and hanging trees
Of oak and elm of ages old
Once adorned by kings in gold
Let me be
the water flow
That carries fish and boats in tow
Past their homes and to and fro
Till timbers shake and gills do wither
Mothers hearts a’tither, dither
Let me be the rolling wave
That crashes, crushes, spins and saves
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 11:57 PM UTC
Thousands and thousands were there,
arranged one after another.
All went well with their positions,
but one felt clumsy what made it try to come out from there.
It hanged,
but feared,
if it breaks apart?
With its dream ,it too will demise
like one dreamer whose dream unfortunately perish.
It wanted to fly hither and tither
like a free bird who leaps at the yonder.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 12:08 AM UTC