poetry, End Days

All posts tagged poetry, End Days

Frack Off! – dVerse Poetics – Re-blog

Published July 15, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Frack Off! – dVerse Poetics
FREYATHEWRITER
– Frack Off! –

What the frack are you all doing,

stomping through our field?

Shaking up the ground boys,

to extract what shale will yield.

But can’t you see we’re ripening,

until we’ve reached our best?

Sorry guys, the future’s ours,

there is no time to rest.

You’ve got to wait, the season’s here,

the farmer needs his crop.

Shut your mouth, behave yourselves!

There’s no way we will stop.

Pumpkins, squash and turnips too,

for decades we’ve grown here.

Times they change, that’s how it is,

the law is very clear.

Power and might are on your side,

for now at least, it’s true.

But Mother Nature will fight back,

and first, she’ll come for you.

You’re going too far, you’ve lost the plot –

money has turned your head.

Filthy lucre’s not all that.

Especially

when

you’re

dead.

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Freya Writes...

Please excuse the poor formatting and whatnot – I am posting this using my phone, so goodness knows what it will look like! Suffice to say that this week’s dVerse Poetics prompt was too good to miss. The issue about which I feel strongly was also very close to my dad’s heart, and since I have spent a strangely enjoyable evening talking about him, it feels like the right thing to do. I don’t have my laptop with me (I am away from home), hence the phone post.

I hope you enjoy this – it was written very quickly, but the pumpkins were calling! I will come back and comment on others’ poems and tidy this up, next week.

– Frack Off! –

What the frack are you all doing,

stomping through our field?

Shaking up the ground boys,

to extract what shale will yield.

 

But can’t you see…

View original post 111 more words

On the Road – A Poem

Published June 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Sounds carry. Tucked asleep into my first berth,

I have no ticket to ride, no known destination.

Black-capped conductors, uniformed and faceless,

pass silently all night down darkened aisles.

The gentle jostling of the carrier and its faraway

howling are fast becoming deja vus.

Baby has a mouse in her mouth, but leave it.

She may need the protein.

Sprouting myelin sheaths encoding both

memories of dreams and dreams of memories

pulse in concatenation with the tempo

of the great clickety clacking conveyor.

Faces of inaccessible passengers

flash past on other lines, here and near, then gone.

Zhivago futilely bangs on the window

for Lara’s attention, then terminal separation.

 

 

Nan Mykel  9-7-09

 

 

Wild Over David

Published June 23, 2016 by Nan Mykel

      DAVID

We always thought her meek and mild

until the day that she went wildDavid

and fell in love with an antique Greek,

or should I say a Greek antique?

She gave a moan and then a shriek

that echoed through the whole boutique

and without a pause

with hands like claws

she clasped him to her ample bust,

moved not by piety I think but lust.

As a matter of fact he was scantily clad

and to tell the truth I think she was  glad.

 

POOR HOUSE BOUND

Published April 5, 2016 by Nan Mykel
Creative Commons

Image result for creative commons poor old couple image

(My library group came up with all of these prompts:) delicious, horse, croissants, eviction, pardon

POOR HOUSE BOUND

They decided to end it all—

This penny-pinching was no good

and so they headed for the mall

to see what their pocket money could

buy. Searching cheap yet delicious,

they hoped horse would be nutritious.

Two croissants finished the menu.

 Their front stoop being their venue,

the landlord found them sitting there

looking quite satisfied, of course,

after they spent the rent on horse.

With the eviction delivered,

the old woman shivered

while her man gave a booming  belch,

which he was unable to squelch,

saying “Pardon,” but his sly grin

grew and then got away from him.

 

FOR dVERSE BUT CAN’T GET ON THIS WEEK EITHER

Published March 28, 2016 by Nan Mykel

SIGH.fOR THE FIRST TIME THERE WAS A “magical widget,” and I had not the credentials or smarts to navigate the route apparently everybody else can. But I tried…

 

Haiku by Issa:

“Without you –
how vast
the cherry blossom grove”

 

My first halibun, and I had to look the word up on Wiki. Problem is, when I search

my mind and heart for a “you,” no one answers.  May be no one ever had that

experience.  The cherry trees are blossoming at this moment along the Hocking,

 

nearby, and I am a little sad, but it is night and cold and dark.  Maybe the sun will

rise as promised, and  I can be touched by beauty after all.

 

When cherry trees bloom

I know that the world is  still

alive and lovely.

 

Words

Published March 20, 2016 by Nan Mykel

 

 

 

WORDSstudy-for-the-head-of-leda.jpg!xlSmall

 

Words can TOUCH.

Words can chatter.

Words can tell you

what’s the matter.

Words can cut,

splice and dice.

In other words,

be not nice.

Lying words

I’ve come to hate;

Embers dying in the grate.

Empty words like love

and forever

go poof like bubbles

In bad weather.

So what can I say

when all is done?

Add a grain of salt

To everyone.

 

 

 

Nan

 

THE EARTH IS FLAT AFTER ALL

Published March 8, 2016 by Nan Mykel

097

 

THE WORLD IS FLAT AFTER ALL

 

Dubbed Democracy, it used to be

top of the line, the lead ship, at sea,

and on the land it served us well,

 until the  strains of its death knell

fell,

baring an underbelly swole

with all the pilfered things they stole

in broad daylight, and  on t.v.!

Gone is the half-belief in he

who’ll take us safely to the shore

while staying steadfast to the core.

The compass nestles in the deep

while those on board remain asleep.

They used to say the earth was round,

that right makes might, but I found

that all I knew I now know not,

nor how to tell the truth from rot,

and not so sure that we’ll endure,

    to make a safe arrival.

  Nan

DOROTHY IN BLOGLAND

Published February 7, 2016 by Nan Mykel

For Open Link night at http://dversepoets.com/2016/02/18/open-link-night-166/

AliceDOROTHY IN BLOGLAND?

No no, Newbie!

                 It’s ALICE.

ALICE IN BLOGLAND!  

Oh, write. But does

Alice have a

wizard?  Well

no, but there’s a

Cheshire Cat.

<floridaborne> has a

cat. What else?

Alice has a Jabberwok.

Well, <dVersepoets> and

<Katiemiafrederick>

seem to have one,

two.

Does Alice have a

narcissist? Why would 

anyone want one

of those?

<Notesfromanarcissist> to himself

has 51,626 followers at

his blog. Or do you

think he’s just

bragging?

 But Alice has

millions of followers,

in books.

 Well, my name isn’t

 Dorothy OR Alice,

but i THINK i have

21 FOLLOWERS!

nanmykel.com

jabberwok

MY METAPHOR

Published January 25, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Come jump into my arms, you furry-feathered verse!
I’ll know you when I see you, either wordy or terse.
Let your metaphor roll in like an occupying force;
sit up high in your saddle on your literary horse!
A shining black stallion, he snorts and passes by
leaving a desolated mule who gives a piteous sigh.
My metaphor has four legs and is not a happy guy.
He does not jump into my arms or even give a try
but nuzzles me as though to say,
“Thanks for waiting for me today.”

Poetics: Persona Poem

Published January 13, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Source: nanmykel.com

OUT TO GET ME

On the streets of New York

every woman wears a lasso at her side.

She struts her stuff and gives a wink–

or was an eyelash in her eye?

Her beauty lures me to her until I am

the captor, no longer her, and with

my marriage vows in shambles,

she escapes. There ought be a law.

 

(Idon’t know how to get my poem to you)

My comment would be:  When researching for my first book, I read “Men Who Rape,” by Nicholas Groth, and found that many men experience the attractiveness of women as an aggressive magnet used against them.

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