Poems and Thoughts

50 Responses to Poems and Thoughts

  1. eddy says:

    The Sky is Falling

    Why do I continue
    To live
    As I do
    Lacking resolve
    Conceding to circumstance
    Counting on senseless
    Hope
    To jostle my inertia

    For day by day
    I board the chicken train
    Bound for the
    Barnyard of
    Banality
    Where at that foul destination
    Clinging close to the coop
    I watch the others
    Crowd the chutes
    Into the corrals
    of complacency

    And as I peck
    at the chicken feed
    I reflect
    How can I
    live differently
    After all
    Chickens
    Don’t fly
    They fry

    • eddy says:

      Hi anyone interested,

      If you continue to read the rest of the poems please let me know something. There are ones here that I plan to rework at some point and if you have input that could be of value to my effort.

  2. eddy says:

    Wistful Rewards

    What would work the writer
    Wondered when
    Words dropped to the paper
    Where they writhe against the
    Whiteness
    With what intent; perhaps a
    Want for

    Readers of these words to
    Regard their existence as a
    Reach towards a whisper of
    Realization for wishes to
    Remain within the
    Realm of why not

  3. eddy says:

    An Almost Alphabetically Arranged (xcluding x), Alliterative Autobiography of a Floundering, Flailing Fool

    An Actual Accounting Arriving At An Authentic Appraisal of
    Any fool or Anyone other.
    Begins By Being Beset with a Biological Birth Because a
    Couple Compelled with Carnal Cravings to Corporeally Conjoin with a
    Consequence that Can Customarily Cause the Conception of a
    Clueless Child
    Destined to Die by Design in Due course is Driven or Directed by
    Desires, Decisions, Demands, Delights, Deceptions and Delusions
    Delivering a diversity of Distractions to Deflect the
    Dread of Death while also applying those
    Efforts to Enhance Existence which will Encourage:
    Effervescent Engagements; Erotic Exploits; Excursions to
    Exotic Environments; and, an Enormous series of
    Events Eliciting Enjoyment and Even more Exuberant Exhilarations but not
    Excepting Everything Else Encompassing an Expanse from the
    Egregious to the Exquisite. i, that,
    Floundering Fool Flails with Frantic Frenzy and Fervent Feelings to
    Find that which is Fabulous; the Fulfillment bringing Forth a
    Fantastic Fling to offset the
    Grit, Grime and Grasping for
    Gimmicky Goals and selfish Gains with Glassy Gazes while
    Gravitating toward the Gates of the Graveyard. i,
    Having to Hassle the Heinous Habits of those who
    Hold power that Hinders the Headway toward Happiness with their
    Heinous resolve to Herding the Hoi polloi, i Have no
    Intention In the Intercourse with those who heed Insidious Injunctions of
    Ignorance Is bliss and the Inanity of
    Indifference Instilling an Inference that Involvement Is Inconvenient
    Instead, I, Invoke an Immersion In the Impassioned Ideals of the
    Just and the Joyous
    Keen to Keep the Key for the Kernel that is a
    Lasting Light of Life for the Lovely and the Lyrical

    Maybe i Might not Make out what Measure to take as a
    Means, with a Meandering of Musings, for a life where there is
    Magnanimous Meaning; but,
    Nonetheless, i Need to Navigate
    Onward Optimistically On a
    Quotidian Quest to Quench the
    Reprehensible and Reach for the
    Sublime, the Sensually Spectacular
    Torch That Takes me Towards an
    Utopia Uncompromised by the Ugliness of a
    Vile and Vicious Virus of a Vehement
    Wickedness, a World Wasted by that
    Yearning for that power which places a Yoke on us and Yet with
    Zest, even if i and you must Zigzag a course, must pursue with a
    Zealous commitment with Zero ambiguity to
    Zip to the Zenith.

  4. eddy says:

    Porn Star’s Lament

    The mystique had long passed its peak
    Now weak and fatigued
    Limp and gone to seed There is a vacancy
    A hole that He can’t fill
    Once it had been a ball being able to answer the call
    Of orchestrated MOANS
    He could RISE to all occasions
    To stuff the money motivated sirens
    with INFLATED
    sensations

    While others waited for occasional nights
    When their one and only would comply
    He had had a wholesome supply
    A cornucopia of “packaged” delights

    Time and again – He now remembers
    Those sessions He had entered
    Vaults of evanescent ecstasy
    But the mother lode of potent pleasure petered out
    Continual bliss flawed, flaccid, finished
    From a youth “Well”- spent

    The exultation overwhelmed by desires to be satiated
    A saturation of up and downs that
    Pumped the well dry
    Not hard for Him to penetrate what happened
    He understands why
    Nonetheless, that’s not the impotent part
    We realize from that tear in His eye

  5. eddy says:

    Quaternion

    Bugs

    Be it ever so – Absurd how Life is Lived
    “FOUR” a carrot that dangles

    Wile E.

    Be it ever so – Futile the Compulsion to Capture
    “FOUR” treats which trick us

    Daffy

    Be it ever so – Desthpicable the Farce that Force
    “FOUR” us to be goofy

    Eddy

    Be it ever so – Contrary in Whirlpools of Want
    “FOUR” me to swim upstream

    That’s All Folks!

    BY EDDY DE COCK

    • Sis says:

      This is creative. How you decided on the characters to be in your Quaternion is what gets me. Everyone wants something, that is just beyond reach, right?

  6. eddy says:

    This Person

    Where is this person ? I’ve looked.

    Reflective objects show me.

    And as I stare at this person

    I am left to wonder,

    Is that where this person is?

    That image leering at me.

    Could very well be.

    I might asked someone
    Most people seeing me

    Would answer – there

    I would respond – here?

    Just physics then – Time and Place

    However I am not convinced!

    Aren’t there others too;

    Trying to find themselves?

    Why not play along?

    Until the game is over.

  7. eddy says:

    “A New Day”

    As I openned my eyes
    Just at sunrise
    I laid there pleased
    With a full day ahead
    I stayed in bed
    Completely at ease

    Free from hurry with nothing planned
    It’s something grand not to worry

    Then my wife awoke
    And immediately spoke
    “What are we going to do today?”

    • eddy says:

      “Thoughts Deterred”

      The objective is mostly straight forward
      When asked, “What are we going to do today?”
      There is no implication of anything horrid

      It is a path of intention, guided by pragmatic expections
      However
      If you consider careening off course
      On a journey of capricious contemplation
      You may be better off staying on track
      Avoiding the temptation

      • eddy says:

        “Thoughts Stirred”

        Hidden within the contents of the question
        “What are we going to do today?”
        Is a cauldron of answers filled
        With simmering trouble and bubbling joy
        A brewing potion deliciously enchanting
        Tinged with an aftertaste of uncertainty

  8. eddy says:

    Interior Design

    In our home there live two humans
    They move about from here to there
    Walls all around mapping where

    Through open doors words float
    As they talk of what is and of what else
    Within the rooms of idle conversation

    This home is a stage of eat and sleep
    Of over and over and undercover
    Where these two from time to time
    Perform as lover with lover
    A dance of being and being each other

    My spouse and I know who they are
    One since birth, both since coupling
    We know what has passed
    And that we will be “at home”
    For what is to come

    • Hannah Wennström says:

      I enjoy reading this poem. It expressed by simple words an everyday conclusion of two living beings slow exit from this world. It is naked and soberly described.

  9. eddy says:

    The T and A of Identity

    Gender and race forms the base
    Setting in place
    The foundation of identity

    For some clearance
    To move about and venture out
    We can alter our appearance
    Simply by a smile or pout

    But the T and A of identity
    Where we have the most traction
    Is with thought and action
    Where ideas and notions are formed
    And by which deeds and motions are performed

    With our thoughts and actions
    We are at the helm
    To steer to the shore
    Where we can explore
    What we are to be or not to be

  10. eddy says:

    Bro ke n Re c ord

    With innate compulsion
    Which emerges after innocence
    Pursuits for amorous entanglements
    Plague the peacefulness
    Previously arrived at with small amusements

    Visions uninteresting
    Become mesmerizing
    What was once used as needed
    Becomes more needed to be used

    And we are beset
    By nature’s demand
    To be captivated
    With pleasures which are unmatched
    In minds so arranged

    The purpose of this natural necessity
    Can be attained in quick measure

    But ever after; with deeds done
    And our service to nature met
    There persists a clamoring:
    To beat the drum; bang the cymbals;
    Blow the horn; Toot the flute; and,
    Strum the banjo – in other words
    To play the music of making life.

  11. eddy says:

    the last wOrd

    as i drOve along a street recently
    i nOticed a person standing
    On a sidewalk

    an Occurrence extraordinarily common
    and sO easily dismissed
    hOwever i tackled that moment
    bringing it tO the ground
    tO keep that moment from running by
    tO persuade time’s shadow
    tO linger
    Or to slow its fleeting ticking steps

    i had the hOpe of having a chat
    with time’s ghOst
    whO has too many incidental
    passing mOments
    with the thOught that this recent moment
    would too slip by

    i thOught it clever
    tO catch time
    and tO bring it down and hold on
    Only to realize
    while i was sO occupied
    that Other moments had passed
    withOut hearing their
    goodbye

    Oh well

  12. eddy says:

    Sum+ming It Up Somewhat

    Somebody will go someplace to do something
    After a time
    That somebody will go somewhere else

    And maybe someone else
    Someday and somehow may also be at that
    Somewhere else
    And if in someway that would be at the same time

    Wouldn’t that be something

    That’s it
    Sometimes there’s nothing else

    Something Else

    I will leave my house someday to go someplace
    Made of average atoms where there aren’t any iridescent shadows
    While there I will not see tears tacked together into sobs
    Nor laughs forged from giggles

    I will then seek somewhere else
    Made from lightning bolts by thunder gods

    And if by some chance – you
    Would be at that somewhere else
    At the same time
    Wouldn’t that be something
    If we were drenched in that thunder storm

  13. Hank Rigler, says:

    Now I have finally gotten around to contacting your website. I am impressed. The two images at the beginning are worthy of discussion. I am glad I have a way to re-read your poems after you read them at the Roundtable.

    • eddy says:

      Hi Hank,

      I found your comment after a search. I didn’t know that comments made wouldn’t be posted without my approval. Silly me. The images you ask about were done over 20 years apart, first the painting inspired by the Herman Hesse novel “Steppenwolf” and carved decades later.
      The concept was to portray an image that embodied the expression of both the urbane sensibility and the untamed spirit that possesses a man that refuses to be harnessed.

  14. eddy says:

    A Mazing Mind

    What we have here is a failure to communicate
    An urgency that would inspire humans
    Not to continue in a mindless maze
    Twisting our world into a knot of inanity

    With pleasure beacons and ego maps
    Haphazardly our brains guide us
    As we bumpintodistraction after distraction
    To a way of waywardness

    Humans think that
    Acting in accordance with a
    Purpose, interest or belief will
    Provide each a means
    Essential to what could or should be
    Not
    Seeing
    ?

    Where this direction of mind trails with traps and teasers
    Hinders, halts or sends us down the
    Yellow brick r===o====a=====d=======
    ?

  15. eddy says:

    ForAge

    There is a teeming influx
    Bloating the city’s limits
    Clogging the nearby countryside
    In places world wide

    A raging growth
    Ever increasing
    From a process
    Most pleasing

    Compounding the congestion
    Is the attention
    Given to safety interferences:
    Sp ee db um ps; helmets; seat belts
    Safety regulations and such
    Along with medical meddling
    Can be rather unsettling
    Considering the chances of depletion

  16. eddy says:

    Seaworthy ~~~~~~~~
    ~~~~~~~~~

    I was thinking
    Thinking – the path of what has been to what will be
    Its function is to go there with what is
    Even if it’s nowhere
    However I am not a Nowhere Man
    Time will come for that nowhere place
    So my thinking is always in a race
    To find a spark for what is grand
    A Passion with a fiery flair
    For an expression of emphasis
    That scorches from intensity
    To keep my spirits from sinking

    I was thinking
    Thinking – the path from a guess to knowing
    Its journey is to head towards being confident
    Even if that resembles a landfill
    However I will refuse
    To confuse
    Fact with fiction but still
    Not all is evident
    From a showing
    I need to see what’s right without blinking

    Seeworthy

  17. eddy says:

    If I Should

    On the table near the bowl of soggy wishes
    There is a half-filled tureen of stars
    I should get a spoon
    But
    I sit still

    In the next room along with a smiling bed
    There is roller coaster of ecstasy
    I should get up, go in and take a ride
    But
    I still sit

    Outside time and space frolics
    In a acrobatic wave of buoys
    I should go out and play
    Instead
    I fall asleep

    Within my dream a tug of war between do and don’t
    Over a river of spawning sewing needles
    I should get a spool
    However
    I am without alarm
    I sleep still

    Revised version ensues

  18. eddy says:

    ..Within the body the survival needs are at center stage
    ..The spotlight, however, focuses on pesky urges and
    ..Floundering thrills showing their ramifications from:
    ………………………… Fickle…wants……………….
    ………………………… Ego….swerves……………….
    ………………………… Elusive..kicks……………….
    ………………………… Lust..seizures……………….
    . ………………………..Inflamed..love……………….
    ………………………….Non-standard………………..
    ………………………… Gratifications……..
    ………………………… Sinsationallips…………….
    ………………………… Pleasuringhips……………..
    ………………………… Exuberantflips……………..
    ………………………… Consummation………………..
    ………………………….Intoxications +……………..
    ………………………… Any something……………….
    ………………………… Life entrancing……………..
    Wrought from the manifestation of these titillations, is an
    Odyssey illustrating the spectacle of our human existence
    Without the mind caring that it is just a hoax from within.

  19. eddy says:

    Free Range Thoughts

    ……………… Thoughts graze
    ……………… On a brain field
    In search
    …… For sustenance
    …………….. From meager offerings
    ……………………………………………………. These apparitions
    ……………………………… ………………. Of no particular breed
    ……………………… Matters
    …… Of no particular significance
    …………….. Roam a tabletop landscape
    ………………………………. Rutting the surface
    ……………………….. For concerns
    ……… Of some high interest
    ………………….. Striving to account
    For what the creator
    ………………… Of this mental livestock
    …. Is
    …………………………… An endeavor muffled
    … By a lowing
    …………. Demonstrated
    …………………… With sibilant words
    ……………… With no more substance
    …………………………………………….. Than the thoughts
    ………………………… Conceived
    ……….. From a mumbled disorder

  20. David Nicoll says:

    Eddy, Great stuff! I have never seen anyone for whom a dictionary was a box of toys to be shaken out, arranged, and played with as much as you do. You have a wonderful way with words! A very good attribute for a poet.

  21. eddy says:

    De Test Able

    Dear Y’allkind,

    I have come to conclude that our existence is a test.
    Like a game but not
    To see who is best
    It is to be faced with challenges
    What we can do with who we are
    To see if we are able to change
    What SORT of decisions actions are made taken
    Dealing with these challenges is ourtestourlife.

    Why is this so? Who would know?
    Is it silly nonsense? Is it De Test Able?
    We are at birth not well suited to or
    Later on develop to ponder well.
    Most of us hardly ever will
    Most of us will focus on ourselves
    Our wantsandneeds as satisfactory answers.

    But if mortality twists your mind
    If you read, observe, philosophize
    Writhe with the dilemmas and conflicts of the spirit
    Thought and language to goad you towards a search
    A quest to know
    Then youthrash about to determine, achieve what?

    But t he most sophisticated of minds
    The most forceful reformers and autocrats have passed by
    With little more affect than splashes stirring an ocean
    This ineffectuality perpetuates the exam.

    What foolishness surfaces, resurfaces after every drowning
    What concern confusion is anchored in a muddy puddle of the brain
    That prevails over accepting the drip of our existence.

    So whether it is the road of conformity
    Or the road less travelled
    Taking the test or skipping class
    Self-determined or innately driven
    Whether thetesttable or spirityouall
    It is a journey over a lifetime
    Might have been nice
    If someone had provided an eraser for our #2 pencil.

    Much Adieu,
    About You

  22. eddy says:

    If I Should

    On the table near the bowl containing soggy wishes
    There is a half-filled tureen of stars
    I should get a spoon

    In the next room along with a smiling bed
    There is a roller coaster of ecstasy
    I should get up, go in and take a ride

    Outside time and space frolics
    In an acrobatic wave of buoys
    I should go out and play

    Within my dream a tug of war between do and don’t
    Over a river with spawning sewing needles
    I should wake up and go get a spool of thread

  23. eddy says:

    Lead US not into Temptation

    I will not get up now to dance with you
    Nor will I go over to you to give you a kiss
    And say what I would like to say to you

    I am not Wilde
    Never resisting Temptation

    I will behave
    As a slave
    To convention

    I will refrain
    And maintain
    I will only mention

    Once this spasm of desire has abated
    We will still be what we always will be
    As fated

  24. eddy says:

    Then

    September 16th, 1998 9:44 to 10:08
    I don’t remember any of it
    Haven’t a clue
    Of what I did
    Or didn’t do

    Amounting to less than a stitch
    In the seam of the time I have

    I didn’t attach any significance
    I didn’t compose a poem
    Not one that I am aware of
    But then I didn’t think
    Or know
    Like I do now
    January 8th, 2012 9:44 to 10:08 AM

  25. eddy says:

    ……………………………………………………………………………………Age Has me
    ………………………………………………………………………………………Cornered

    ……………………………………………………………At the edge
    of falling asleep my mind suddenly sizzles
    with serious stimulation seEking
    to squeeze some saving significance
    from a day hosted by hollow hours.
    …………………………………………………………………..Being
    older and thereby a short timer
    each day HOWWLS to be serious
    but then
    languishes
    in lost lingering lapses
    of wasted whiling away as the watch whirls
    which
    leads me to leer like a lecher
    upon sumptuously salacious seriousness
    and the perversity of pithy purpose.
    …………………………………………………………………….Corn
    by age’s aggressive ASSistant………………………………..ere
    mortality muscles me…………………………………………….d
    making meaningful movement momentously minimal
    with a futile frantic fervency
    of taunting tantalizing thoughts
    that beg
    to break
    the bounds
    that block me
    I defy the next day’s doldrums of diverting dulling distractions
    by
    deliriously denying defeat.

    ……………………………………………………….Eddy’s Elicit Elegy

  26. eddy says:

    Almighty Authorrorities

    Joseph Stalin, Adolph Hitler, Pol Pot, Ivan the Terrible, Robespierre and Mao Tse-Tung
    will serve well enough as an ample example of all powerful monstrosities.

    These mortals who aspired to be gods in their own time and in the minds of their benefactors
    Dealt with detractors and the noncompliant with hellish atrocities

    Ethnic cleansings to purify the race through putrid means to exult the Aryans
    Annihilation of the professionals in the Killing Fields to glorify the agrarians

    These mortals who created their hells and measures of damnation such as:
    Concentration camps
    Forced labor camps
    Savage scourges
    Murderous purges
    For those who should not be or would not be shepherd into their flock of believers

    These mortals who asserted to be almighty with no more compunction than the Almighty
    Demanded as an obligation as a duty to The Code
    To be obeyed, to be feared, to be uncritical
    To be your Everything or Else

    These mortals with all their righteous answers and expected faith in their omniscience
    And if not appreciated/worshipped for their magnificence
    Well
    Goddamn the ingrates

    And to those
    Who then praised them or those who now praise and believe Almighty Authorrrorities
    So as to be a part of the Saved, of the Blessed
    And who do not suspect anything amiss
    And dismiss a concern about a Hell for those who don’t heel
    Well when your time comes,
    ” Good Luck to you” and if you are allowed
    From the Supreme One of the Golden Gated Community
    Drop us a line just to say (one way or the other)
    “Wish you were here.”

  27. eddy says:

    March of the Ice Picks:
    “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”

    Ice picks parade along pathways of thoughts that meander
    Through a frozen erotic playground

    Longings shiver spasmodically
    As they observe these prick makers stab by stab by stab
    Chip at yearning’s seductive memories

    Across this tundra of desire desolated
    Ice picks march over a deepening layer of permafrost
    Covering a life for lust

    An ice age has set in
    Spells of flesh friction fomenting
    Heat spurts, flaming flurries
    That could thaw this tundra’s icy crust
    Are abandon to age’s assignation with impotence

    Where is the raucous music
    To enliven these ice picks into a frenzy
    To shatter this frightful freeze

    Longing’s languor, however, has stowed away
    Its instrument in an insulated igloo
    As it huddles there increasingly indifferent
    To that old “song and dance” of existence

  28. eddy says:

    At Any Here Now

    I coiled on the bed stripped of sheets and blankets and pillows of pillow cases
    There wasn’t posted a temporarily unavailable notice when I slipped onto that bed
    And shut tightly my visual visors not as I do nightly when I close them lightly

    That action then there with eyes draped bed-nested secluded to againform to rebe
    In the blackness as I peered at the inside of those eyelid curtains to permit from
    The sudden sightlessness a vision to formfrom my muted mental machinery
    A push aplanapath some stimulus to set in motion a-something-that-would-be
    And-what-came-to-be as you now seehear or will seehear at the completed length

    A slap begat from a cough-induced jolt projected bolts of light against the eyeflaps
    Which ignited thought that would then be written announcing this wee resurrection
    On slumber’s stage in a fetal pose this flash of a renaissance this questioning quest
    Of a nothingness that ceased to exist eliciting ensuing thoughts exploring
    The theatre of spinning space events while time teases tantalizingly perceiving
    That which I’ll not say write here since it quicklypasses as I finish – what I received
    While I incubated was an array of the wondrous possibilities with eyes open wide
    Which you can read about at any here now from poems written and those you write

  29. eddy says:

    Yesbody

    Now – the mind is using the body
    And also at any other given moment
    Located in any other certain spot
    It is available and somewhat able
    To do the mind’s sudden bidding

    The body is the mind’s plaything; its hobby
    For what the mind can foment
    The body can act on its mental plot
    Whether the script is wild or stable
    Serious or just kidding

    Yes! the body has its own demands
    That the mind must obey
    Without the body what have you got
    A mind adrift without the stage
    Where action could attempt fulfillment

    So even though the body makes commands
    The mind too has its say
    In what’s our dubious lot
    In life’s passing rage
    It will be better with agreement

    Yours Thoughtfully,
    My mind

  30. eddy says:

    The Winter at 69

    Beyond the spring of reaching and
    Well pass the age of innocence
    When a taboo for a private passion
    Was explored

    Beyond the summer of acquisition and
    Well pass the carefree indulgences of heat
    When aspirations were fortified with hope

    Beyond the autumn of reluctant acceptance
    Pass the encores of youthful pleasures

    Beyond all the confused escapades

    And

    At last arriving at the threshold of the final season

    A wintery scene of naked tree limbs scarring the sky
    Trees once in possession of leaves that lie grounded
    With their crumbling bodies
    Unattached from the tree’s current
    Forsaken by the sun with its stronger arms of summer and its caresses of warmth

    Winds without fury set the leaves on a short downward flight
    Stir their brittle bodies on a harden bed of soil
    The leaves once exuberant dancing on air as the breezes serenaded their lush color
    These now graying leaves scowling
    At the winds exasperating and abrasive howling
    Leaving the leaves to stumble until the snow
    Falls

  31. eddy says:

    M.T. (My Thoughts)

    You are here listening, reading or both
    And at the moment out of politeness you remain
    Very nice

    This here, this attempt to dredge from a mental sinkhole
    A conveyance to reach an understanding, an awareness
    That would make your time spent during this passage
    Of any value to transport you beyond the pale
    To a state of mind that can glide with insouciant sail
    To a realm where words would serve as waves
    Of tingling changes
    Releasing you from a drab routine

    However no muse arrives as a pilot for my thoughts

    Mission Terminated
    Thank you, next time maybe

  32. eddy says:

    Evening Notes

    The sun’s daylight chatter was muffled by the horizon into a murmur
    As night began its approach with the yawning stars astir
    While colored lights tuned their trumpeting bright notes

    The dusk evoking this concert of luminous harmonies
    Where headlights and taillights bowed as stoplights plucked
    At the silent darkness

    Rhythmic feet and wheels stepped and spun in tune
    To the flickering shimmer that generated a swaying
    Patterned to eve’s glimmering chorus

    And as dusk deepened into a musical romp
    With tinseled neon and the moonlight’s gleam
    As the night’s glitter and mirrored ball

    After the rock and roll
    Twist and swivel
    Slide and glide
    Homeward bound and to bed
    Switching on the quiet until dawn’s greeting

  33. eddy says:

    For What?

    When it comes right down to it I don’t know squat

    Do or don’t
    …………… Will or Won’t

    Neither here nor there
    ………..l…………………Doesn’t matter don’t care

    A horn is honked in the distance
    ………………………………………..Just another instance

    The news reports a travesty
    …………………………………..Not less common than gravity

    The sky is not blue
    ………………………I am that way too

    For when it comes right down to it – whatever the plot
    ……………………………………………………………………..I have a spot

    P. S. (Pondering Still)

    In case……….someone isn’t finished wondering………what for

    Read………………………..between…………………………the lines

    The end…………………….reaches……………………..a beginning

    Nothing less………………………………………………nothing more

  34. eddy says:

    When I was Alive

    I in life thought that living amounted
    to doing things that mattered
    Non-existence I perceived
    was without the thought or movement
    that I would have witnessed
    experienced
    or myself performed
    and all that occurred
    before my birth I assumed
    would therefore after death also lack my involvement
    As a result of this perception and an assessment
    of my concerns I resolved
    to express my span of living with a determine individual treatment
    So while I was alive I in an artistic fashion painted
    for a time composed
    words to a form of poetry or some such arrangement
    Limited
    however by weak willed ability I mostly observed
    and to do so with greater awareness I read and studied
    with discernment
    to gather from observations comprehension to be enlightened
    by scrutinizing of the probable and the possible of a someone’s attainment
    to ascertain what would be plausible for me to have pursued
    Instead of this being a force or an inducement
    I was vexed
    with the paradox of being and fully living from what I incurred
    There didn’t seem to be a course a culture for general blissful enrichment
    The vagaries of human values, wants, needs breeding a bewilderment
    of how to arrive of what could have been done to have mattered
    in achieving an overall contentment
    Nonetheless I was still taunted
    with the tantalizing trials and diverting dramas which served
    as enticement
    or me to strive for and a desire to fulfill a goal that proved
    that what I did was a measure to some degree that I at least tried
    to reach for what there was of fulfillment
    When I was alive as a person named
    ed
    FOR WHAT ever it may have meant

  35. eddy says:

    Getting by on Alibi

    An alibi is of importance if accused of a crime
    Which puts me in mind of what I did with my time

    The other day I heard the song , “Cat’s in the Cradle”
    About a boy neglected by his father; becomes a man and “turns the table”

    The lyrics express regret for a past
    Where at last
    The father wouldn’t have had to grieve for a life misspent
    And with no way to repent

    Only if he hadn’t had some sensible, practical alibi
    For what he didn’t do, explaining whi

    I, too, am handy with the alibi, allowing me to get by
    There always was the pardonable and needed way to be, rather than to try
    Committing crimes of hilarity, exuberance and folly
    Thereby being limited to the acts of security and mediocrity, not so jolly

    But I got by without weeping with what I didn’t – mostly seeming justified
    With an alibi alliance for what I did, that couldn’t reasonably be denied

  36. eddy says:

    Word Worlds

    Volumes filled with consonants and vowels
    Filling pages with sentences from words fixed
    Mapped to transport thoughts across the mind’s maze
    Trekking into realms otherwise too limited to try
    Language scouting as a pioneer’s guide for the lavish
    Sending the devoted reader into serendipity

    Book Boosted

    Scuffling along on a languid path scheduled
    According to those tasks easily accepted
    Comfortingly plotted and eventually compromised
    Pleased to look away and not even play
    However, reach for that book and when you take hold
    Read along a path of adventure to be revitalized

  37. eddy says:

    Night Out

    Daylight has leaked away into horizon’s fissure
    while night darkness seeps out a stain of doubt
    of what to do,
    of might happen to you
    on a night out.

    Nothing more ominous than a contusion
    from disappointment and frustration,
    not something that would gnash your sheltered essence,
    would likely result from such an excursion.

    With your car outside the door and it’s headlights to spear
    through the dark you could set off
    to an oasis of glimmering, gleaming, glittering lights
    to seek the hopeful brightness of being near
    exhilarating delights.

    Confront
    the acceptance of the loss of hope
    with a defiance against the loss of hope
    as you sit in the living room arena
    where on a couch
    within the television’s glow
    life becomes a spectacle.

    Either muffle dark’s bark
    by turning up the sound
    or muzzle night’s bite
    and not be channeled or bound
    with another night in.

  38. eddy says:

    small talk
    “Hi, nice to meet you” she said, “how are you?” “Nice to meet you too, not bad, what about you?” the reply.
    “Getting by, I suppose?” her response. “So it goes, we endure.” he answered.
    “Yeah, what can you do, huh?” the woman offered. “You’re right there.” the man affirmed.
    “One day at a time, I say.” “I hear you, one does as one can, isn’t that the way it is”
    “I try not to think too much; but, I don’t doubt what you have said.” I agree! thinking is over-rated: just keep it simple is my motto.”
    “It’s been great having this chat, see you around, I hope.” ‘Certainly, nice running into you. Looking forward to seeing you again, soon!
    “Me too, hey, take care. Well, goodbye and be good, okay? “I sure will, goodbye, you have nice evening.”

    BIG TALK
    ”I have been consumed with feverish desire for you, each moment away from you has been a scorching agony. I can’t breathe thinking of the beauty that permeates your every
    cell. Your tenderness make summer clouds harsh and abrasive by comparison; when you talked to me I felt the envy of angels. I revel in the splendor of our being inseparably bonded in boundless passion. The nearness
    of you is so maddeningly majestic every nerve in my body
    soars beyond eternal ecstasy. You are more exquisitely precious than the…”

    Oh, I remember, we met at that place the other night, how have you been?” she mumbled.

  39. eddy says:

    Whenever

    Whenever a moment of faint recognition crests
    Upon my brain waves
    Thoughts twinkle as stars do
    Far removed from the concrete substance
    Of the immediate
    Mental apparitions shimmer
    As heat soaked streets
    Do in the elusive distance
    Soft tinkling noises tiptoe about
    Sneaky nudging sights flit along
    This whenever
    Which almost forgotten galaxies may have once forged

    When I get that evanescent
    Peek at each particular whenever
    It is a sketch
    Of a summit
    Of vagueness
    With a darting comet
    Flashing
    Over the peak
    Into an ocean of darkness

    Left afterwards with this
    Tease
    On the inside of my skull
    I am in a daze of having visited a dithering dimension
    Of what isn’t known
    But of what
    Is
    As
    Nothing
    Specific

  40. eddy says:

    Duck (Do Waah! Diddy) Ditty

    It has come to the end of the line
    And it’s time
    For a lullaby that puts to rest this struggling verser
    Drawing the drapes before his rhymes get worser

    Left only with emotions nearly dry
    And thoughts that only dimly descry
    I hear the approaching sound of a duck quacking goodbye goodbye

    To past efforts lacking insight, poignancy or some touch of the sublime

    I had fanciful longings for songs with surges of sumptuously sensitive subtleties
    Which were forsaken and displaced by attempts at cleverly contorted complexities

    While my feelings fluttered like brittle autumn leaves in the wind’s bitterness
    And my observations were cluttered with reflections of aRID desert(shun) littleness

    I resorted to capricious contrivances that stomped forward over stumbling sensibilities
    To produce prancing poems that cavorted to my mind’s slick simplicities
    Scoring stanzas that were elicited from awkward inanity
    Using notes of disappointment, delusion, fierce futility
    I as an impresario of self-importance
    And spurred by a painful arrogance

    Orchestrated a repertoire of gauche gushings
    To which I have to consider hushing

    This Cock that crooned and crowed it’s droll serenades
    Of barnyard ballads needs now to begin to fade

    So that his haunting hunger to convey essence, his restless ravage, subsides
    And in the sterile stomach of forgotten time it will forever hide

    Eddy De Cock

  41. eddy says:

    “Leaving” Maybe Not

    “With Waves
    shine slides over
    shine like skin’s
    what sections
    same from same”

    Sand wedged
    grain upon grain
    beached by tide
    baked by sun
    what escape
    but to lie and die

    Trailblazing

    Each search
    a male mate

    prods for
    an open-
    in’

    a harbor
    to anchor
    his partner

    ” Each finds
    her mate pre-

    dictable

    but believes his own
    rigidity

    must excite
    his partner”

  42. eddy says:

    Fields Free to Feeling For

    Savage knives restless ready to wreak havoc
    glaring mercilessly at the weeds

    Their blades of frustrated anger
    thirst-sharpened by their outrage
    leering with anticipation

    The weeds are an unsightly imposition
    their rapacious intrusions upon the decent
    productive crops
    make the fields’ stewards explosively fierce at

    These knave recipients
    leaching from the water provisions
    taxing the nutrients from the soil’s funds

    Time is approaching for the smirking smug knives
    to pierce to purge by slashing these encroaching knaves

    Then would the fields be free to provide generously to feel for
    The land for the privileged PLANTS!

  43. eddy says:

    Landfills of Lost Moments

    The single flap of a hummingbird’s wing
    Serves a purpose as part of a flight
    Moments for no more than the beginning of a blink
    For as much as the climatic crest of the sublime
    Stage what value is placed on what has happened
    And what is to be revered
    The flow of these moments into finite experiences are assayed
    Into that which are keepsakes
    For the memory’s vault
    And those discarded
    To the landfills of the forsaken

    I am not here, at this time, to praise what poets prize
    But to pay tribute to those lost moments interred in landfills

    It is those moments
    As when at a corner
    When you merely stand and wait
    Moments shunned, abandon
    Packed dumpster tight
    I wish to herald those moments
    As I would series of flaps that is the lift off
    Of a hummingbird’s flight
    To a flower’s nectar

    It is not ground-breaking this effort
    To excavate the landfills for moments
    Uneventful, mildly unpleasant, unattractive
    To resurrect the buried

    However, such moments provides the duality
    That defines those winged milestones
    Which fly to sunsets glorious

    Instead of landfill waste
    Let those lost moments be the fortunate fertilizer
    For the soil to bring the flowers to bloom

  44. eddy says:

    Mild Marshmallows

    I will avoid
    The jet propulsion flares
    Of Jalapeno peppers
    The torrid Tabasco topping
    The wasabi warheads
    Lemon peel lashings
    Garlic bulb blasts
    Vinegar soaked salads
    Ginger crammed cookies
    Black pepper encrusted steaks

    However, mild mellow melting marshmallows
    Floating in a mug of warm chocolate milk
    I will nip and sip to quench
    With these marshmallow chocolate-soaked muffins
    My mouth’s madness
    And not deal with those pungent bullies
    Bringing on taste terrors
    Tears without sadness

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