"tricksy" poems
Goodnight green eyes,
Your dreams await you in Silver-Lined skies,
Dreams of dragons, and fairies, and me,
and hopefully just a touch of mystery.
The sliding colors slipping silently through silky seas,
gliding gracefully over gallant gull wings,
whisking you away with a gentle breeze.
You see dragons and pirates,
fairies and gypsies,
tricksy little gnomes,
and flamboyant pixies,
you see them all tucking away,
hiding in there homes as their thoughts start to stray.
and as you glide gracefully over the sea,
your thoughts start to wonder what tomorrow will be,
will there be adventures or heart ache and loss,
or maybe even a romp through the moss,
you might not know now,
but theres something you do,
that someone you love,
is waiting for you.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
Terrorism has mushroomed
all across the world.
Greenery here is not less,
some terror must be unfurled.
I 've heard that some desi
terror outfit has taken birth.
More shadowy than shadow,
their secrets difficult to unearth.
Help is required from security
agencies of developed land.
There they lock up terrorists for
years without trial on remand.
They've trained dogs to smell
terrorists before they become one.
Our country is developing fast,
soon it will be second to none.
Full use of the cyberspace
this local foxy terror group makes.
In this virtual world whose
identity is real? whose fake?
This tricksy group makes
bombs sophisticated, smart.
It targets selected only,
suddenly before they can depart.
But few unintended ones died in blast,
must be suicide bombers, Indeed!
Terrorists don't understand political
equations, what is the need?
Now our Police catches
terrorists just minutes after the blast.
Their must be some-kind of relief
for citizens shocked, aghast.
My little brother eats my head,
wants to catch a tiger alive.
Jocularly I advised it is animal dangerous,
flesh and bone it can rive.
Instead we can catch a cat and
with continuous torture and grill
we can make it confess to be a tiger,
with third degree surely it will.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Oft, in the silence of the night,
When the lonely moon rides high,
When wintry winds are whistling,
And we hear the owl's shrill cry,
In the quiet, dusky chamber,
By the flickering firelight,
Rising up between two sleepers,
Comes a spirit all in white.
A winsome little ghost it is,
Rosy-cheeked, and bright of eye;
With yellow curls all breaking loose
From the small cap pushed awry.
Up it climbs among the pillows,
For the 'big dark' brings no dread,
And a baby's boundless fancy
Makes a kingdom of a bed.
A fearless little ghost it is;
Safe the night seems as the day;
The moon is but a gentle face,
And the sighing winds are gay.
The solitude is full of friends,
And the hour brings no regrets;
For, in this happy little soul,
Shines a sun that never sets.
A merry little ghost it is,
Dancing gayly by itself,
On the flowery counterpane,
Like a tricksy household elf;
Nodding to the fitful shadows,
As they flicker on the wall;
Talking to familiar pictures,
Mimicking the owl's shrill call.
A thoughtful little ghost if is;
And, when lonely gambols tire,
With chubby hands on chubby knees,
It sits winking at the fire.
Fancies innocent and lovely
Shine before those baby-eyes, -
Endless fields of dandelions,
Brooks, and birds, and butterflies.
A loving little ghost it is:
When crept into its nest,
Its hand on father's shoulder laid,
Its head on mother's breast,
It watches each familiar face,
With a tranquil, trusting eye;
And, like a sleepy little bird,
Sings its own soft lullaby.
Then those who feigned to sleep before,
Lest baby play till dawn,
Wake and watch their folded flower -
Little rose without a thorn.
And, in the silence of the night,
The hearts that love it most
Pray tenderly above its sleep,
'God bless our little ghost!'
3.5k
Life’s all getting and giving,
I’ve only myself to give.
What shall I do for a living?
I’ve only one life to live.
End it? I’ll not find another.
Spend it? But how shall I best?
Sure the wise plan is to live like a man
And Luck may look after the rest!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
Give or hold at your will.
If I’ve no care for Fortune,
Fortune must follow me still.
Bad Luck, she is never a lady
But the commonest ***** on the street,
Shuffling, shabby and shady,
Shameless to pass or meet.
Walk with her once—it’s a weakness!
Talk to her twice. It’s a crime!
****** her away when she gives you “good day”
And the besom won’t board you next time.
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
What is Your Ladyship’s mood?
If I have no care for Fortune,
My Fortune is bound to be good!
Good Luck she is never a lady
But the cursedest quean alive!
Tricksy, wincing and jady,
Kittle to lead or drive.
Greet her—she’s hailing a stranger!
Meet her—she’s busking to leave.
Let her alone for a shrew to the bone,
And the ***** comes plucking your sleeve!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
I’ll neither follow nor flee.
If I don’t run after Fortune,
Fortune must run after me!
2.8k
I left serious procrastinating by Liverpool Street station,
And skipped into Spitalfields
Looking for ludicrous.
In this place,
In the city but not of the city,
Lissome youths in black skinny jeans
Loiter by stalls selling things that no-one needs.
Rockabilly chick,
In my splurty outy dress,
Petticoats flouncing,
I twirled and giggled
Through the Goblin Market
Into the Water Poet,
And curtseyed gracefully,
Accepting a liquid offering,
Prepared to hold court.
Later, we may find sustenance,
Or resume the dance
On sticky floors.
It's time to let go of plans, responsibility and care,
To run, to laugh, to pirouette, to dare.
Leave me here
Or join me,
But beware
The labyrinth is tricksy
And the way back
Is by no means guaranteed.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
My father's mother
Danced through life with passion and flair
Determined and stubborn, courageous and outrageous
I wish for you her individuality and sense of drama.
My father's father
Had a sense of mischief that bordered on cunning
Quick thinking, generous, the life and soul of the party
I wish for you his love of life, of family, his tricksy spirit.
My mother's father
Sent his grandchildren to sleep with their heads full of glorious nonsense, absurd, fantastical tales
He had a smile for the whole world, and shone from within with a golden light.
I wish for you this shining quality, his kindness, creativity and loving heart.
My mother's mother
Is the strongest of all the strong women I know,
Straight speaking, no-nonsense, a clear head in a sea of chaos
I wish for you her strength, her calm, her ability to see things as they really are.
I wish for you
My mother's tolerance and sense of fun, my father's thirst for knowledge
Your fathers' fathers quiet comforting presence
Your father's mother's empathy and warmth.
Those that are gone, their memories persist and will be passed down
You will be all of us, and all of them, and yet, always, uniquely you.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:00 AM UTC
I have a secret, you see
And it is all about me
Though not like it’s very hidden.
I’m an imp, if you wish it,
I do tend to fidget
But I do so rather quietly.
Silent footsteps behind you,
Now sneaking isn’t meant to
Scare when my approach comes nearer.
I might give you a *****
And you’ll jump like a kook,
But try not to be so surprised.
There will be a next time
Do not make it a crime
When I appear out of nowhere.
It’s the ideas that I plant
Inside heads when I can’t
Act on such good tricks to be played.
Tie his laces to chairs
Not a classmate will care,
And Teacher blames only the boy.
This, but one example,
Of things that I’m ample
To come up with everyday.
Now if you’re real careful
And seem quite delightful,
I’ll just have to let you be,
Although Tricksy Grandma did name me.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
glean from the grey light
of storm infested day
knowledge and rumour of
portent and potions which are
the ingredients of her heretic mind
and its tricksy path through the thorns
her face defends against such conversation
deflects the angrier intents and sends them off
like petulant schoolchildren to
stand in a meadow of butterfly's and balloons
their angry little faces red with envy
at the good kids who get ice cream
think bland thoughts children
live bland lives and you can have cookies and cake
all day long
quiet now here on the back porch
'cept Cecil who is mumbling his disgruntled
mind to the saints above
while he sips his bottle of red wine
the soft rain and winter birds
are the symphony to his lone act stage production
of another mans life
which is well lived and hardy
a life without such rain
a life without winter birds
winter birds
huddle next to eachother on tree-limb
waiting for a chance to join the swift sky
dance in its rivers of air
dream in its wondrous star laden halls
breath its wide open sea
winter birds want to fly away
just like me
just like me
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
Down, down the rabbit hole,
Into a world marred with blandness.
It's a silly little place,
Quite very queer,
All colored grey and flavored with sadness.
The tears trickle down and turn into streams,
Subtly washing away my dreams.
Always the martyr,
I chose this fate.
Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.
Some choose with a bullet and a frown.
The petals are soft
The petals are nice
Secretly laced with cyanide.
Tricksy little place,
Quite very queer,
Down, Down the rabbit hole,
Into the world filled with blackness.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
*your hate my friend
rings more true
than your concern
ever did
lately your
devious
cunning and
withdrawn
darkness
of desire
and lust
bursts
enveloping
you in
lurid
colours
gliding
away from
your tricksy
innards
mimicked,
withdrawn,
bulbous,
your guttered
hatred and
ignorance so
pronounced
nothing
could have
been more
stark
but this
clear, dire,
directed
detest
my friend*
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
*your hate my friend
rings more true
than your concern
ever did
lately your
devious
cunning and
withdrawn
darkness
of desire
and lust
bursts
enveloping
you in
lurid
colours
gliding
away from
your tricksy
innards
mimicked,
withdrawn,
bulbous,
your guttered
hatred and
ignorance so
pronounced
nothing
could have
been more
stark
but this
clear, dire,
directed
detest
my friend
your hate my friend
make murky islands,
rake dead leaves,
but make not you
remember the moment
you lost yourself, from
quiet wisdom to animal
stench, unquenchable
your hate my friend
defeated you and
you need no more
defeating within
your hate my friend*
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC
Will I ever define love?
The trouble with this, twisty-fickle-phenomena,
This, celebrated emotion – and it is just an emotion,
This, elusive heart-thrumming, head-spinning, pleasure,
A pleasure not even eclipsed by unmatched wealth,
Not surpassed by the most prized possessions.
In fact, even prized possessions, coveted things of beauty,
(Insignificant as they are to the wise and knowledgeable,)
Have an attachment akin to love, a kind of love, I suppose,
At least to those dumb enough to think possessions are special,
Who no doubt gaze longingly at what is simply ‘a thing’.
Maybe a rare ‘thing’, but ‘a thing’ all the same,
No, I’m talking of love for another, caring affection,
Adoring eyes for a living breathing creature,
Maybe even an animal, a pet, but more so,
The love of another human, a special person.
This is a little ‘tricksy’ is it not? Hmm? Yes,
For such a love encompasses many things,
Often runs riot in the mind, tingling the nerves,
Experiencing loyalty, betrayal, honour, slyness,
Sacrifice, greed, trust, duplicity, selfishness, sharing,
Because, well, one never knows, not really, no.
This magical dreamlike emotion, and it is an emotion,
Is different for us all, for one person's love,
Can be another’s flight of fancy, an escapism,
For some, it is a lethal weapon, so deadly, so cruel,
While for others, it is the most beautiful thing on Earth,
Yet, it inspires the most horrendous fits of jealousy known.
Love, real love, imagined love, astral love,
Consummated and unconsummated love,
Love of the heart, love of the mind, love of dreams,
All, are in reality, true enigmas, beyond explanation,
I am in love, I am a lover, I adore love, all kinds of love,
I fall in and out of love, as do many, I know love,
I can sense, touch, taste, even smell love,
And yet, for all of this, I wonder,
Will I ever define love?
©Paul Chafer 2014
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
"love you" slipped out your lips
as you were parting
and I not believing that you meant it
and not knowing what to say if you did
Just stammered out drive safe
all the while
I wanted to lay
my heart in your hands
I don't know if you understand
and i'll take a nap at 10 pm
and have a hard time sleeping tonight
because i still wont know if those words meant
anything.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
Scarpered for the siren liquor
Shame-seared claret cheeks
Lost to time and regulation
Found by terrified relation
Taught that gravity was quicker
Supine in the streets
Too pie-eyed for interventions
Fuddled buccaneer
Too aware for rectifiers
No relief with pacifiers
Banished now for contraventions
No more welcome here
Therein lies the contradiction
Tricksy elbow-bender
You designed this cunning passport
Teamed constabulary transport
Speedy coveted eviction
Purposeful offender
Now we nurse the convalescent
Scarring quips ignore
Dodging pleading, wounding protest
Culpable without an inquest
Feeling without feel-depressant
Pain-drink tug-of-war
Where to put our damaged kindred
Languishing in grief
Ductile truth in glass distended
Remedies are not extended
Therapies are judgement-tinted
Distanced from relief
Imminent familiar wipeout
Nowhere safe to be
Don’t do as the doc suggested
Cede to being bottle-bested
Bottle-lock in private hideout
Throw away the key
Aug 16, 2024
Aug 16, 2024 at 12:56 AM UTC
Tricksy, you are—false—
We hates it, yes we hates it,
Hates it forever!
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
Look--
You took a book,
Filled the pages with your wages
Of sixteen silver sages--
What does it mean to me?
Fire prints, laundry lints,
The phone call that made me fall.
Walk down that hall where I feel so small.
That tricksy pixie lightened, tightened
The reigns in the rain I fell through a drain
Wish I could go insane.
Our feet in the mud, I watched
Throne of Blood,
The Fallen City of Ludd
Come back to me
Come Back To Me.
I'm a hack a washed up sack
On a beach I feel that leech
Begin to teach me the meaning
Of screaming
Out my emotional, devotional
Love for you.
Please be happy,
My thoughts are sappy.
I lap the sap, feel like crap,
Mazed in a trap,
There's no going back.
Forward.....
Motion.
My devotion like the ocean ends at the shore
I am a *****
Difficult rhymes for difficult times
Leaning on a crutch
"The human mind can only stand so much"
I would
Do anything I could
To make it good
For us to be--like the sea--
Crashing
Together
Forever
Whenever
You wanted.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
I visit you in dreams,
and my visit is always unexpected.
I’m always excited and more
than a little apprehensive.
In dream variations, your reactions shuffle
like poker cards - you’re surprised and pleased,
or wary, or even politely disappointed.
Dreams can be a harsh mirror and as in real life,
my emotions are poorly protected.
Brushstrokes of truth hide behind the
tricksy falsehoods of dream-scapes. After all,
I’m an unworthy suitor in practically every way.
In the real world, I’m sure early, favorable
impressions would fade to inevitable boredom.
I have that effect on adults - I’ve seen it
- a quick nod my way and I become invisible.
I should be a bank robber - “What did the
robber look like?” the police would ask.
“Well... the teller would say,” fading off to vagueness.
I could stand right there looking at my phone.
“Did YOU see anything?” The cop would ask me.
“I was playing candy crush...” I’d begin,
but the cop would walk distractedly away.
By the time they got the video evidence, I’d be long gone.
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 7:19 AM UTC
See, how tricksy
is the labyrinth, Angel?
I am not to enter in
Without a guide.
Benevolent being
Gently sweep me forward -
GENTLY, gently,
They look so soft
But your wings have sharper tips
than a scythe.
See? They’ve made me bleed.
I have no choice, then?
The way is dark, and the outcome uncertain,
But in the stillness, at the centre
I will find a heart beating
on a crystal platter,
Every pulse a call to arms.
This I must carry back to the world.
There will be dangers, dreams and darkest things,
I am their only hope.
Show me, watcher, guardian, guide,
Push me past the gates
And watch me flee, I will not fail
The world, as I’ve failed me.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 4:04 AM UTC
Baby steps
A life in a bubble ain’t no life at all.
You’ve gotta not be scared of a little fall.
So lift your head little one to the endless call.
Stand up tall, don’t crawl, now walk.
Midnight, dark light, under a sea of lights.
Bright stars, so far, we are temporary in this one life.
Wishes come true when I awake to the sunlight with you.
With your hand in my hand I can find a way through.
Be my reason, to be less resentful.
Lead me forward forever more.
Help me to see I need to be less hateful.
Show me a light I have never seen before.
Before you all I knew was angst and pain.
Now through you and with you I can rise again.
I never had the courage, but you pulled me through.
Now I can see the truth in you.
One step at a time I can learn to fix me.
You’re so tricksy with your magic smile.
You give me reason to laugh with you endlessly.
Stick with me through thick and thick…it gets easier in a while.
(C)2022 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Nov 7, 2024
Nov 7, 2024 at 3:16 PM UTC
The Lighter Side of Hell
Pain is just a word and you shall get your just desserts,
If you can survive this Earth and all it has to tell.
The vision, the touch, the noise, the smell.
The feeling of injustice…
The lighter side of Hell.
Heaven is a nice idea, but I live here on Earth,
Down in the dirt, with the slugs and the worms.
Amongst the filth, disease and corruption;
The insane, the missing, the distorted failed abortions.
The man with 666, nailed to the crucifix,
Next to his nemesis; your Jesus,
Invites you all to a red meat banquet,
At the Hell Hotel; oh, you’ve got to make it.
The cannibal course,
The devilish desserts.
All inclusive of course;
Come feed your thirst.
The dancing flames and women in leather;
A servant of Satan, forever and ever.
The dead shall walk the Earth and Heaven too.
If the Master only had his way,
The head would be served unto you.
It’s not too bad, down here in Hell,
Once you get past the blood and that God awful smell.
But humans are messy, they spill everywhere;
Our staff are at hand, always happy to help.
A stretch is it Sir? Very well don’t scream too loud;
Our reputation precedes us, we really are quite proud.
We don’t just torture, for the sake of torture.
We’re organised, we have a union;
You are either in or you are out.
The fires quite cosy, when you are not getting burnt;
Those tricksy little devils, when will they learn?
Occasional stabbings and whippings and things,
They’re a part of the experience; come on now, it’s your turn.
Enjoy the lighter side of Hell,
For it is only the beginning of time.
Remember the lighter side of Hell,
Because soon you will be praying for the end of time.
Because Hell has a dark side, a pit of hopelessness;
A place to punish you, to leave you helpless.
Such pain and brutality, I salute you, good luck!
You’re gonna need it my friend, because the truth is…
You’re ******
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 11:12 AM UTC