"trad" poems - Hello Poetry

Recto: She‘s vacuuming: the dog has leapt, afraid, onto my lap and sent my papers flying. Till then I‘d slept. Still half-asleep, I‘m trying, relentlessly, to finish things I‘d made a start on yesterday, identifying slips and errors, trading words or phrases. Mystifying, the way we go through phases laid in stone, half-stunned while time goes flying by and nothing‘s done for days. Is stasis part of the deal? We‘re drying up, we fade - and then, bejaisus! - that small fire we‘d laid that kept on choking re-ignites and blazes! Verso: She‘s vacuuming: the dog has leapt, afraid, onto my lap and sent my papers flying. Till then I‘d slept. Still half-asleep, I‘m trying, relent- lessly, to finish things I‘d made a start on yesterday, ident- ifying slips and errors, trad- ing words or phrases. Mystifying, the way we go through phases laid in stone, half-stunned, while time goes flying by and nothing‘s done for days. Is stasis part of the deal? We‘re drying up, we fade ... and then, bejaisus! - that small fire we‘d laid that kept on choking self-ignites and blazes!

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Dec 30, 2011

Dec 30, 2011 at 1:06 AM UTC

peter-oram

AMBIGRAM IX

Recto: She‘s vacuuming: the dog has leapt, afraid, onto my lap and sent my papers flying. Till then I‘d slept. Still half-asleep, I‘m trying, relentlessly, to finish things I‘d made a start on yesterday, identifying slips and errors, trading words or phrases. Mystifying, the way we go through phases laid in stone, half-stunned while time goes flying by and nothing‘s done for days. Is stasis part of the deal? We‘re drying up, we fade - and then, bejaisus! - that small fire we‘d laid that kept on choking re-ignites and blazes! Verso: She‘s vacuuming: the dog has leapt, afraid, onto my lap and sent my papers flying. Till then I‘d slept. Still half-asleep, I‘m trying, relent- lessly, to finish things I‘d made a start on yesterday, ident- ifying slips and errors, trad- ing words or phrases. Mystifying, the way we go through phases laid in stone, half-stunned, while time goes flying by and nothing‘s done for days. Is stasis part of the deal? We‘re drying up, we fade ... and then, bejaisus! - that small fire we‘d laid that kept on choking self-ignites and blazes!

29

I'm buying some new old CDs to remind me of my old young days. The time of the trad jazz revival and the stranger shores of Joan Baez. Tom Lehrer made chemical magic and poisoned pigeons in the park. He promised to go with us when we go, when we half expected nuclear snow. Those were the days my friend that came to an end, but like our parents, we still feel warmth in summer suns tht glow in memory's furlough.

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Dec 19, 2015

Dec 19, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC

tony-luxton

Stranger Shores

I'm buying some new old CDs to remind me of my old young days. The time of the trad jazz revival and the stranger shores of Joan Baez. Tom Lehrer made chemical magic and poisoned pigeons in the park. He promised to go with us when we go, when we half expected nuclear snow. Those were the days my friend that came to an end, but like our parents, we still feel warmth in summer suns tht glow in memory's furlough.

12

"Trad? I haven't see you in one." He said. "What if i'm a brat?" I replied. "I will drop you flat." He replied. "Is this you? My baby?" He asked. "Your baby. Yes my tobby." I replied. We stood under the rainy clouds and stared. Blood dripped blared and draped. "Is this the last Viki?" I asked. "Shhhhh" He shut me. "Now i'd say this is the last" He said smiling. "Why? Was it a blast?" I asked tearing. "No. It was a wax. My gold wax. You." He said fading away.

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Jul 3, 2018

Jul 3, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC

Vinasri_Ravichandran

You can see it.

"Trad? I haven't see you in one." He said. "What if i'm a brat?" I replied. "I will drop you flat." He replied. "Is this you? My baby?" He asked. "Your baby. Yes my tobby." I replied. We stood under the rainy clouds and stared. Blood dripped blared and draped. "Is this the last Viki?" I asked. "Shhhhh" He shut me. "Now i'd say this is the last" He said smiling. "Why? Was it a blast?" I asked tearing. "No. It was a wax. My gold wax. You." He said fading away.

13