Ode To Infinity
Ode To Infinity
As I pen this ODE TO INFINITY
into a new translation of existance,
I become obsessed with time.
The way I understand it
is that I can have everything,
except ewe in persona in real time.
And that is when I CRY and then
I weep toward my infinity.
And all the tears cascade upon my frown;
for the love of this mye Violette, my love.
Do not make me lose the comfort
of our forgotten dreams of love,
in the midst of all the hatred
of a world gone mad.
Please kiss her and bless her OH my Lord.
And bring her back to me again.
My Heart would be a shallow place
and very sad indeed,
without the need of my stately qyeen
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poem by Charles Hice
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EndAround
If the endaround gets in the open and the balltosser does not get killed the sideline washer will come into the game. Then the seventeen minutes will last longer then ever and seem like forever the men with the whistles will forfeit the flag the chain pullers come the ball is then moved to a different line.
In soccer the rules are different the endaround is the tommyboy.
The balltosser becomes the place kicker. The sideline washer is Jenifer she takes up the seventeen minutes. The men with the whistles have none they are called the ref. The chain pullers become the balltossers. They toss the ball out. The tommyboy catches the ball in both games. The place kicker heads. Jenifer smiles and forfeits the flag she is the ref in this game. The place kicker is dead.
Football and Soccer End around came.
poem by Charles Hice
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The Lifer
The Lifer
Eye feel so sorry for someone that cares for only work and cannot have a little fun it seems so sad to me they cannot use the world to live or love but robot only seems to me a fate as worse as any death has come to those in work zones he looked for all the world a sad sad man when he said there is only work related things allowed on his bulletin board in the work zone land. He has helped me many times but now he told me with his eyes that eye am just a cipher in his life he died when he signed up for cash a lifer stuck upon the number given him when job was given name a number in the zone a lifeless thing a lifer come to stay how many gentle readers have the number or the name just like the lifer man the game is god the thing is done now no new information in the lifer zone allowed. No Soul.
poem by Charles Hice
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Ladder Rung One
Ladder Rung One
Ladder Rung One
Tom Thumb and Thumbelina and baby thumbnail
Tom is starting now to speak:
“listen to me Thumbelina baby {thumbnail} ewe listen tewe
This old world has got me hypnotized and they stuck me on the bottom rung”
Thumbelina answers him:
“Tom my husband please do not speak so rough in front of the thumbnail baby she does not need to knoe about the way of the world she is just a baby not yet in collage…
Baby thumbnail is speaking baby talk in gibberish:
“The world is mye oyster and eye am gonna shuck it
Gonna learn to drive and gonna learn to party.
Narrator me:
Listen to me baby the old man still loves ewe the father of the daughter and the mother she adores ewe and the author of the poem. The ladder it is steep and hard to climb them all the steps are hard please stay upon the bottom rung.
poem by Charles Hice
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Waterlily
waterlily
waterlily
green my bottom is white eye do have the longest roots in this pond of brooks Walden the frog is not real heavy he is one of the young ones eye suppose he likes me he feels safe sitting me eye dew enjoy his company the things this lily pad does is float then dream of love the fish here got lazy they do not even nibble on my roots eye like to pretend to live forever its so cool when the sky clouds up eye no longer fear the rain falls from the white sky the drops not even disturbing my wort up top the frog shudders then relaxes letting the water cascade past him to the river is under us under the ground the underground river is found below the water line the water is not good to drink dark swirling blackish stench but here the life is clean the air is pure where frogs sit on these lilypads to dream of love in Walden's pond
poem by Charles Hice
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RainCoveredSKY
RainCoveredSKY
Author Message
Admin
Admin
Number of posts: 100
Age: 54
Localisation: Tucson
Registration date: 2007-06-26
Subject: RainCoveredSKY Today at 10: 52
--------------------
RainCoveredSKY
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poem by Charles Hice
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On Tree
Just a plain old TREE. I Ignored the weather
satisfied with me. I Looked at TREE.
What if anything do I knoe about TREE.
It used to be a thing made out of wood, always tall,
with branches near the ground. Roots fingering the ground.
Life comes up somehow to TREE. Water cascades down to ground, seeping slowly into ROOT. ROOT transmogrifies
the water into inner sanctum stuff known only to the Lord.
People still tell me, Tree just cannot live.
There is no real feeling in TREE.
There is knowledge in TREE or it would be a blade of grass.
People say the life is in the seed or sapiling.
I think the knowledge is in the MAN, the ONE who can.
He Makes all the TREE begin, upon a distant planet,
Creates the thing again, in the courtyard of his KING.
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poem by Charles Hice
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Poetical Intentions
Poetical Intentions
Poetical Intentions
There was once an American dream
A house a job and a car or three with a cat in the yard
And the yard in Malibu Beach is this dream still out of reach
What is wrong with this picture is the angle of the stream
The entrance of the price list the fortune is too steep
The thing you want for money is my soul
Just let it tremble all away the underneath of tree is fine for a place to lay me down to sleep just keep the drunks and murderers from me and let me rest in peace and poverty
Hard at work or hardly working are you holding up that fence by leaning on it are you concerned at all with the work to hand
What-what-what am eye paying you for where is the thing where is the fun the toil and sweat is left somewhere else to do today
Eye must begin to win the poverty away to gamble and to theft
To golden gods and goddesses bereft
Eye am a poet with intentions.
poem by Charles Hice
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Money Man
money man
they do not believe that this life ever ends they think as long as they get paid life then begins they dress natty and carry lots of expensive things everything is money the threads the car the wallet and the cards its what they live for the last day of this month or the first day of the next one it all starts over again how many did they kill to get ahead how many people in the grave so they can drive so they will never run out of petrol for the car how much goes on behind the street the people that they fleece to get the money that they need to get ahead how many must be dead bye the hands of the well dressed man he is the tiptop of society well within his rights to live for money is the way of all the best dressed men but when this life is over he will pay the devil all his dues my friend and then and only then will his life reflect his time over his money on fire and gone nothing to eat nothing to drink but smoke he was the money man
poem by Charles Hice
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Faith FLower
Faith Flower
Faith Flower
Purple tendrils escape out of my sight is limited to corners and deep dark recess is hidden from the world at large considers lost as the way it is survival becomes better the more it is let go and required of faith the flower grows bidden on the road side it comes of love unsought but paid for with memory and love it grows in hearts upon the stone of the asphalt jungle is so cold a slab of pain it keeps all the homeless frozen like sides of meat in some large footlocker they moan and cry at night the wind brings me there distress the flower grows inside my heart my love threatens to make me warm it keeps me hot it glows at night eye must cover up unless someone sees my purple light to she who cares she loves me and it shows to no one but our love is kept from agony only by your faith my purple flower loves to read of faith kept in our hearts she smiles and love is kept is kept is kept the purple grows and lights the night is kept in faith and love unshown
poem by Charles Hice
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