There once was an old daring hunchbacked man
Though when he really should have walked he ran
He tumbled off a cliff
He looked at me like a glyph
Turns out he was a genuine caveman
Bering Sea (Haiku)
The harsh cool breeze pulls
The crystal blue ocean sea facade
Shadow below, no longer still
The Boy (Sonnet)
Amongst the dreary moonlight and eerie night
On the outskirts of a tranquil pasture
The crunch of dry grass echoed left and right
A pale slender shadow short in stature
A waxen candle was lit, then two, then three
The rustling of pitchforks invoked glum grunts
Shrieks reverberated through the valley
Tonight would be another gruesome wild hunt
The mob traversed between the trees and cattle
Distraught by the foolish hoax they found
A teared giggling boy not worth their hassle
The mob left outraged with his state of mind
Trudging back this time the shriek was all too clear
Not one person flinched, their village was near
Ode to Slippers
O’ most versatile footwear
Not known for their ergonomics
Sometimes seems as if there are many to spare
Not worshiped like electronics
When in need they disappear
Do not bring on an eye’s tear
You can’t go fast
But they do last
Their applications are vast
Once put on, you are relaxed
They sometimes squeal and squeak
Though it doesn’t make one a freak
Slippers are a lifestyle
Barbecue fired up
Beach chairs by the pool
Sand and pail filled with salty sea water
Though not respected
Packed, dropped, slapped, thrown
As quick as a jet
Cut through the air like a blade on grass
A dangerous projectile
The Hill (Cinquain)
The Hill
Ominous, Alone
Growing, Looming, Churning
All Souls Who Enter Do Not Leave
Graveyard
NYC (Acrostic)
Those Who Don’t Join (Free verse)
Join
Or be conformed
The ideas that fuel our thoughts are like a cinema flick
Carefully crafted by those who hold influence
Strategic
Confining
Education is a production line
Miss a step and one’s left behind
First comes primary, then secondary school
Or rather inspection
Then they are hastily shipped out to sea
Where the menacing waves batter them to their knees
They begin to buckle, blend and amend
Whereas they now need to stand out and be different
After years of being used to conform
They feel like they are being reborn
Those who don’t join end satisfied
Always kept true to who they are
Knowing exactly where to set their bar
And continuously towards that, they stride
Time Ticks On (Concrete Poem)
At first, there always seems to be plenty of time
More than two weeks, its a breeze
The last weekend is now in sight
Too many poems to write
Do I have the might?
Maybe
No
Yes
Of course
If I start right now
Lose 3 hours’ sleep tonight
Though luckily the end is in sight
Only two more creative verses to write
Procrastination once again tests my might
Poetry Contests Submissions
Ode to Slippers, The Hills and Acrostic
http://culturedvultures.com/poem-week-free-poetry-competition/
Those Who Don't Join
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/those_who_dont_join_798162
The Boy
https://www.poeticpower.com/index.php?page=enter-poetry-contest
I Once Met A Man
http://youngwritersofcanada.ca/contests/
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