"truss" poems
When gentle breezes turn into gale,
remember that you will prevail.
You may tear at these pages daily,
in search of peace and tranquillity.
Planting hope and scattering wishes,
Spilling blood in smears and blemishes...
Flying out of the dark on
wings of birds.
Bridging the rippling void through
severed words.
***Seeking...
Reaching...
Imploring...
Writing...***
Be not wary of eyes that speak.
Be not afraid of mouths that leak.
Know that our scribbles are only
sacred to us.
Emotions and thoughts we
bind and truss.
What we put forth, we owe it to ourselves...
Bits of us we've kept hidden in the
darkest rooms; atop the highest shelves.
You...
are wielder of your mighty pen.
You...
determine how far or long your
words would span.
Your words... They're precious gold.
Many or little; be them new or old.
So let drip your ink with little reservation...
Let us grow from strength to strength
as life teaches its lessons.
Rise up and live on in these here pages,
For here exist only
freedom;
not cages.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
chocolate fireguard, teapot,
or fender, icecream sofa, dry sea
or wet towel, glass hammer,
waterproof teabag, newspaper
raincoat and umbrella, lead parachute, ashtray on a motorbike,
handbrake on a canoe,
vote in a dictatorship,
loudhailer to a deaf mute,
grief at a wedding,
****** in a monastery.
inflatable dartboard,
spoon in a knife-fight,
screen door on a submarine,
wooden soap, shortbread tires,
knitted light bulb,
bread boat, plasticine wire cutters,
paper hole punch, water hat,
custard floorboards,
ceiling tiles made of gravy,
portrait of a bowl of soup,
a stone cigarette,
syrup knickers, hole in my bucket,
plastic oven, wax truss,
liquorice bridge,
false teeth made of soap,
lemonade roof,
jelly boots,
jam cardigan,
paper bicycle pump,
ice-cream saucepans,
soluble drain pipe,
packet of rubber nails,
see-through mirror,
revolving basement restaurant
roll-on hairspray, rubber pencil,
****** with a hole in it,
limp **** pockets on a lettuce,
**** on a fish, lolly pop van in Hell,
one-legged man in an ****
kicking competition,
meaningless life,
unnecessary death,
forgotten words and deeds,
ignored needs,
this poem.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 4:11 PM UTC
"Move" they say
and put martingale on with a neigh
Thai pony in Chiang Mai
A green patch of grass
was what your heart desires
would yourself like a chew of truss?
In the forest with no name
on hard concrete without an aim
swimming with the tuk-tuk wave
"Where am I?"
you ask with side-patched eye
"My knees are soft like a microwaved pie"
But all you ever get
is a whip on the back
from the oddity with some leather strap
"Why are you so hesitant
while all the other stallions are competent
don't you know the creatures in the carriage are very important?"
"How important are the vultures in the world I don't know
but I know that I won't say no
if you borrow a thread of my hair for a violin bow
and play their funeral march with it to and fro"
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
My troubled hands
trembling as I truss
trusted tricks
tried
Tragic tropes, tracks
Trampled trips and trippy trends
Trawlers tread
Trebles tremored
Trimmed but trackless
I don't know
what
this means anymore
Trump
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 3:18 AM UTC
Boulevard paved, cloud runnin' chase, to clear thoughts
Mindfulness, craved pounding in, raining pain sought
Free me! bound points pressing in, thorns? BE GONE! bought
padded Dr. Scholes soles.
Trail's bridge truss, wooden way leads to peace climbing
Lean in shoulder first, dig, dig, pistons legs pump hard
Muscles in tighter bundles demand enrichment
Slopes up, roll down, pleasure
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
.
** | | |
| | |
| | |
| •arches |
| up top bef- |
| ore tapering |
| down to |
| the |
| ooo
| ooo bottom•a sym- ooooo ooo o
| oooo bol that holds my en- oooo ooo
| oooo tirety for ransom•a hos- oooooo
| ooo tage situation that made ooo
ooo me so willing•truss me
ooo up, bound... i am not
oo fighting•call this in-
oo sensibility... name
ooo this foolery•i am
... but a branch
dangling off
| a tree• |
| call thus |
| me an i am |
| idiot... la- the doll, |
| bel me a from oth- |
| nitwit•for ers, set far |
| i only apart• |
| have my i am the |
| strings... marione-
i am but tte who's
a limp after
pup- your
pet• heart•**
.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
Knife brandished and dusted
on dirt rubber grout grown
stuck between concrete
slabs in parking lot, stabs
the oak bark and climbing
with hand hold knots and
claw bent cramp
of forearm strain
What if the lake came to life
revealed secrets from the last
era, before manmade channels
and bridges truss and bending
On approach grip loosens
uncovered, looks echo in time
loud, unsure when muffled voices
make it past headphones
while walking through clouds
of regrettable memory
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
The hidden is more than the seen
The seen is more than the observed
The observed is more than the understood
Is it not for poetry to truss 'n bridge
The wattle until better beavers
Make a channeled floody duddy of it?
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 1:27 AM UTC
With the tightfisted budget now handed down
There is a lot of ****** off people in our nation's towns
Mr Hockey has hit the taxpayers with a double decker bus
High and low income earners put well into a binding truss
Revolt in the Senate Chamber is showing on the cards
The government will be in receipt of a few shrapnel shards
Legislation won't get passed in a timely manner
There will be the flying of a double dissolution banner
Then the Abbott mob will be well and truly stumped
Voters are itching to have the extra tax imposts bumped
Canberra shall shortly be in for an enormous rattling
Heft taxing has the nation's populous struggling and battling
Had the GST been set at fourteen percent and on everything
Our tax burden to-day wouldn't be so troubling
Government must learn to live within its boundaries
As the tax paying public are sickening of all the levees
Tax policy is in need of urgent attention too right
For parliamentarians don't seem to see our plight
Mr Shorten has stated that his mob can fix our woes
But his side of politics has not the scent of a rose
We are stuck with a budget which has us ******* down
And it offers us nothing of the lights in mirthful town
The treasury calculator has a very mean spirited spike
Twill there ever be a tax regime which we'll all like
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
I once ****** a girl on a bus;
She had pimples, all oozing out pus;
She said, feigning shock,
"My, what a huge ****
But she never noticed my truss.
I once ****** a girl in a train;
She was short, rather fat and quite plain;
The smell of stale *****
Which arose from her bunk
Obliged me to **** her again.
I once ****** a girl on a boat;
She smelled awful, worse than a stoat;
I fingered her ***
Which made us both come
And I wiped the **** off on her coat.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
at the buffet with a bucket
your *** says youve said **** it
one more bite and you might up chuck it
your size is plus
your car is a bus
your gut needs a truss
one more piece of cake
when that thing starts to shake
gonna turn into a ***** quake
aint no way to find no pants that fits
floppy ***** all up in your arm pits
forget the front you got bigger back ****
gotta pop your beauty bubble
for face meat you got double
you cant see them but your cankles are in trouble
so put down the bucket
tell your spoon shovel to **** it
find a carrot stick and **** it
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
I once ****** a girl on a bus;
She had pimples, all oozing out pus;
She said, feigning shock,
"My, what a huge ****
But she never noticed my truss.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
tsk tsk asterisk
chk chk clap blam boom
sik click arsonic
grip glap drap gloom
wix wax anthrax
hop leap woosh slam
sip spike archetype
cough crash anagram
hark bark blue monarch
wrapped in a summer's day
tick tack heart attack
passing the cabaret
she used to say words like
bump, beep, buzz
until flutter fizz crunch chirp
fell beams of a truss
and tenderly did hum zap sing
in little vrooms and snags
did she meet unfortunate ends
woof, crack, thud, down crags
shimmer shingles whisper dust
ugh, agh, yawn, sigh!
her eye sockets gathered such beautiful rust
and did crunch clink, flick and eek
to crack the numbing morning moon
but break, snap, bash, sink
into the hyphenated royal lagoon.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:31 PM UTC
•
**All the beauteous and delightful words in the world,
Being integrated all together,
Can never be in equilibrium,
Of how much happy I am,
Of how much you mean to me,
And of how much I love you.** (hahaaaaa)
*Your words of love,
Are just like a firefly in my pitch-black times,
You’ve enlighten me with your luminescence,
Just that little wonderful light that you’ve showed me daily,
Being put all together,
Just made a delightful gleaming sun,
In a noontide,
That glows up my darkest corners,
That gives me warmth in my numbing days,
That gives me hope,
That gives me the strongest feeling to be the best I can be,
And that gives me a better vision for tomorrow.*
*You make my world an orchestral arena,
Just the most wonderful tunes are played,
The tunes of bona fide endearment, care and with hope,
You’ve surrounded me with your fervid love songs,
I have absorbed all of it,
That together circulates into my body,
As an energizer,
And as supplier of all good nutrients.*
*You’ve created a dance hall in my world,
That I uses,
To sway and undulate away,
All the love and happiness,
And let exuberance consume,
All deleterious hormones that is in me,
Into your phenomenal, auspicious dance steps,
Steps that keep our love healthy and in perfect shape,
And steps that carries me all the way to heaven.*
*You are indeed my serotonin,
My happiness hormone,
That keeps me smiling,
And keeping me away from depression.*
*My endorphin,
That always make me feel good,
The one that reduces my apprehension.*
*My dopamine,
That keeps me mentally alert,
That you,
The source of dopamine,
Just provide me,
All inspiration I need,
Keeps me concentrated on good stuff,
And that takes away all bad moods in me.*
*My ghrelin,
That takes away all my stress,
And replace it with peace of mind,
And relaxing state.*
*My phenylethamine,
That gives me such gaiety,
In this love that envelops me,
A love that always put spark in my countenance.*
*In my engineering life,
You are just the perfect solution,
In my engineering truss problems,
And the truss as our love,
You are the identification,
Whether our love,
Is statically determinate, or indeterminate,
Statically stable or unstable,
And finding the reactions of our love,
Taking all the summation of forces,
From the vertical to the horizontal axis,
And the summations of all moments needed,
In order to have strong and firm truss,
A truss that would last,
‘Till eternity.*
*You are the calculator in this path of mine,
I could just be staring in blank space,
Without any hope of solving any mathematical problems without you,
You are the calculator that we call,
An addition to our intestines,
Without you my life will not be successful,
And with your love as motivation and inspiration,
It made me more successful in my career in life.*
**And for the most important thing,
You are the answer,
To my earnest and lachrymose prayers,
Prayers that are dearly uttered,
During my detrimental moments,
And just up to this day,
I have understood,
How God,
Can allow throe to be planted into our lives,
How a devastating incident,
Will turn into propitious aurora,
I knew from this day on,
My life will completely change.**
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
Boris likes to stroke his Mogg
Merkel loves a hot Macron
David Davis hates to Barnier
Keir Starmer gels with Garnier
May adores her slimy Gove
While Corbyn woos the Abbott
Liz Truss? Such angry sourpuss
Herself to champion loudly fuss
And Greening's not for leaning
Against the Brexit so opposed
Sajid wants a blimp of Trump
Which has given Donald the ****
Whilst in the gilt historic chair
We’ve a bent partisanal ******
Cash grabbing John the squeaker
Bercow! How in hell are you still Speaker?
Now when speaking of selfish greed
Travel. Duck houses. Second homes, and such
Let’s remember; as not to would be unfair
That glib arrogant war-monger; Blair
I’ve had enough of all of them
The Blunts. The Hunts. The useless…
Pieces of flotsam and jetsom
Don’t even start me on Leadsom!
©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
my brain burns
and i can't sleep
too much poetry
too many difficult books
a part of my head
has popped open
i believe i have
a metaphysical hernia
brought on by
too much thinking
only one thing to do
truss it up tightly
and turn on reality TV
after a few episodes
my brain turns to mush
and the swelling
subsides.
brain dead bliss
not a synapse firing
absolute relief
of no thought
perfect slumber
of the seriously
stupid
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
Yea, the daunting superflous
reading clovers for
mercy and occursus truss.
Any of the subject
almost lossing sybolic
treasure. Flights of
bumble bees in a
memoir to the unjustified
prattle. Each
every, to and from
has little to no forthright
luster. A tremble with out
fever sick. A hot spell noted
by the chills. Warm coolaide
at 99 degrees in the shade.
Probably a groin pull in the
cerebellum to a feminine mystic.
Aponeurisis for a political satire
written in vetos, between the
colors of the rainbow.
Just plain old tired of the
savant, quixic, modern
prancing. Dedicating a
spell to the matter of quantum
relics. Like a choke hold
on a full figured transparency.
To much sale for the sailors
that had married the Titanic.
Probably mustard on pickles
like gypies due lovers.
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
They called themselves friends
Giving us chickens for our pens
They brought us carrots and corn
Now they hurt us like a thorn
All those times we did good trades
I never knew we'd be betrayed
Now they invade us
Flaming our house's truss
They steal our food
Never knew they were so rude
We gave you wine
Now, you attack us like a mad swine
You **** our kids
Steal our fruits and figs
Leave us alone, please
Why can't you reprise?
You are now strangers
You're one of our many dangers
You were our friends. The nice traders
Now you are our foes. The cruel raiders
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 8:16 PM UTC
I will take my time as I unravel the binds
That you laced around your figure,
My fingers handling the intricate knots with care,
And I will be attentive to every truss,
Making sure I get each one undone.
Slowly, you will disentangle from the
Untidiness that restricts and I will witness
The birth of your galaxies as you finally
Take a step out of your restraints.
You are my work of art,
My beautiful silhouette of an angel that
Was trapped far too long by the weight
Of the world that you encompassed.
I knew all along what lay beneath the cocoon
That you sheltered yourself in and,
As you take your first step with no hindrances,
I watch as you blossom into radiant colors,
Abstract light that brightens your face
And reveals your true essence.
I know in that moment,
That you are the most stunning butterfly
I have ever come across and
Every knot untied
Was worth it.
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
In
The hours
When the lips of the rocks
Were gummed
The howling waters
Wore the garments of tranquility
And laid allay
We
Stood on the waters
Head truss
Like a petal and a sepal on a stalk
We spoke no words
Yet our minds
Understood the language of the heart
The burning flames within
And the sparkling urges
Then
I lurk through her breath
And stole her soul
Together our spirits went aloft
Over jaundiced shadows
High and higher to the clouds
Till it gulp us onto the universe
There
I tucked her arm onto mine
And walked her
Down the aisles and palaces
Of the planets
Jupiter was no more,but Johanna
Then
I sat her on the hallowed throne
And touched her hands with the smiles of the sun
With the candies of the moon
In her mouth
One,two,three,...
I counted the stars
As my parole of love
Infinte Parole
©Historian E.Lexano
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 10:30 AM UTC
a twinkle in my mezzo
is a wrinkle in this forte
where flatulent is an eggplant
but virulent is my phone
that screamed from my soul
as she'd walk in a box of rings
that made me sing her too
With sheet of tears did blanket
Around her bed of posies alas
if heart truss sung to their content
tonight the hour grew dark in Jodrell Bank
as this virtue of love did radio a Lovell
and sealed my fate in spite of her again
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
I sat down in the night,
Away from light,
Away from sight,
My battles I'm gonna fight,
I taught of you, of me, of us ,
The pictures we took,
The frames and truss ,
One by one I look,
The things you said,
The things I told,
Come hug me now,
Tonight I'm cold,
Time does not pass by,
Me and my soul together cry,
My hearts asks me "why"?
You loved me no more,
To myself I can't lie......
Goodbye goodbye.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:34 AM UTC
at top of poetic tree
the exemplary talents are located
they who have a monicker
which is gold plated
to gain access into
this rarefied sanctum
one must be willing to crawl
up the fawning ******
but some aren't seeking
a place at the table with the upper truss
they are quite happy
to stay aboard the common man's bus
sniveling and groveling
at the feet of the elites
isn't a feat which enthuses
those who are seated in the lower rung seats
the luminaries
at lofty vantage point
all go on about humility
they might like to look inside themselves
at the mirror image
reflected in their seas
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC