What aches may come.... To tink by Lerk

What aches may come
and buffet us,
that pummel hearts
in choking dust

Are but a page in valiant life
flimsy spectres flipped on by
For strongest evil, vicious strife
are all undone by just two words

The first, one word that seems too sweet
to battle monsters, real or 'magined
but in this war it is the meat
potatoes, garnish, and true wine

The first magic word is LOVE
There, now I've spoke it
Though it takes a lot to invoke it,
once settled, it soon becomes
the second power'd summoning...

PERSEVERANCE

no, not just for us
but for little ones in height
but not in heart
To leave them alone amidst the foe
I tell you sure, t'would be not smart!

I've bitter pages turned of my own
and twice the blade have contemplated
but always as the pages flip
my life seems holy, consecrated

Humbled am I by my blessings
they tower over all my woes
Though HOPE seems sometimes feeble dressings
to bandage wounds laid by my foes

and yet...and yet....
there comes a day
when even hardships melt away
and laughs and giggles permeate
the trickster time wipes clean the slate

and former tears evaporate

but what remains are just the words
Like ensorcelled crystal, inviolate
AS LOVE is fused with PERSEVERE
No darkened arrows penetrate

the fearsome power of that armor plate

-------------

Love and hugs, tink!
things always seem (and are) dark
but hang on for the turning of the page
you may be surprised ( I was)
I lost mother father wife, two children ripped from my arms.

and yet...at night I hold Grok dear and tight.
I thank the lord from prostrate soul
though mortart fire surrounds the night
I treasure every hidey-hole!

Lerk

The saddest sound by Lerk

the saddest sound of browser clink
has happened now to me I think
I feel so bad, so low to ground
to see "the text "Lerk" isnt' found"

I search the board in hopes of note
that friends of mine perhaps had wrote
instead I find my name is not
apparently, I've been forgot!

No, that's ok, no tears for me
No heavy guilt I lay on thee
but plain it seems to post I must
or find me trampled in the dust

so here I am, and mark me well
and send me not into that hell
of things forgotten and obscure
but dangle in my eyes the lure

of simple howdy, and repartee
a passing wink, or how you say
a "bon mot" a kind thought or two
to make me think of all of you!

luff

Time travel is impossible

Sure, it'd be nice to boldy sit
on liveried steed of Lancelot
or pinch the bottom of fair Juliet
and see what made Romeo hot

To buckle swash with Pirates dead
or huddle under tall Collosus
to kick the Fuhrer in the head
Smack Mussolini with galoshes

But think on this before you sleep
a Gordian knot is set in your path
a spatial hurdle you cannot leap
Under deadly weight of hidden math

For stars expanding outward flung
at speeds extreme and quite annoying
from points unknown to spots unsung
the measurements are not for toying

For even if enigma cured
of temporal manipulation
In years you'd hop, but here's absurd...
you'd land at what location?

For where we find New Hampshire now
a million years ago was different
And where was once a silly cow
a trillion light years distant

"Just do the math!" you may exclaim
But beg to differ, here I ask you
Tho you at axis x take aim
There's z and y and maybe double-u

And if space folds in upon itself
a pretzel dipped in stellar salt
Things don't stay neatly placed on shelf
nor stay when simply ordered "halt!"

So even if you wrestle WHEN
and cause it singular distress
the WHERE will sneak around you then
and strand you, "lost in space" address

and the saddest realization rhymes
while drifting past the stars in fear
Oh, you can get there anytime
you just cant get there from here.

:)

The razor and the song

The razor is a seductive liar
it fuzzies up the truth
the fact is: life is full of fire
that stokes the inner soul

Don't get up and leave the show
at sordid intermission
the second act has yet to go
The third and fourth are in the wings

At times my life has scratched me bare
with tragedies beyond belief
but waiting patiently I find there
are joys hidden round the corner

To cash in your chips this early in the game
would cheat yourself from inside straight
It isn't quite who wins the game
but who hangs around to finish

I lost my parents, wife, and double-child
and the razor beckoned to me then
but persevering hard, I reconciled
and gathered new blessings to my breast

and now I watch over sleeping son
and snuggle wife new I'd not yet met
when razor's siren song egged me on
I'm glad I stuffed my ears with wax

Death solves nothing, that dirty coward razor
It harms the ones that love you most
and leaves your enemies unphazed
the show goes on without you.

So sit you back, and enjoy the show
at times scary, bad, and horrible
but still it's the best thing that we know
and the plot is always changing.

Don't miss it
God went to all the trouble to write it after all
If there wasnt hard times there'd be no growth
Hang around for the final credits.
sometimes they show bloopers.

:)

Luv ya!

where comes wisdom

a wise man and a fool
both make the same mistakes
the difference is the tool
of experience one makes

the wise man ponders at his stumbles
and wonders how to learn
the fool just gets back up and grumbles
and varies not a turn

so, be wary as you fall, my friend
and notice how, and why, and where
for wiser then, you'll see the end,
prepared for every snare

when forced to pick between the two,
it puts me rather deeply blue
for each has just the quality
to wish me shipwrecked out at sea

Ginger is the sailor's choice
with wiggled walk
and sultry voice

But Mary Ann, all fresh and scrub
Is never one
that I would snub

A stolen kiss from Farmer's daughter
is to a desert dweller, water
a calf-like nuzzle behind the ear
would make me blush, to be the steer

and gingham does more comfort give
than fancy silks or satin gold
and I would rather try and live
in kansas warmth than L.A. cold

oh, ginger's nice, and quite the snap
but I am not a fancy chap
I seek the heart and not the face
I gravitate toward homespun grace

you'll never top the joy, I think
of winsome smile and hearty wink
Not with the hips, or lips, or sips
from ginger's heady brew of drink

But might I ask a thing of you
on such a choice I hesitate
instead of choosing one of two
could I not rather vacilate?

Mary Ann's my choice, but brother!
my adolescent fantasy
is not the one or just the other
but hammocks built for three!

Tooth Sheaf

When sampling brew from other land 
I tried one once that weighed like sand 
Tooth Sheaf, it said, I swear with wink 
with hard consistency of grit 
I could almost swear when I took drink 
that I, instead, was drunk by it                 

(see, Jonesy, you inspired me)        

Lerk the watered-down bastard poet    

I opened up the post and saw 
the sight made me unslack my jaw 
its wonderment to read and tell 
that charlie-oh is quite the belle                 

First, to wed the bastard real and quick 
who helps us sharpen pointy stick 
and then to go ahead and bear 
future unwashed dynasty heir                 

Further, then to still amaze 
she turns quite acrobatic phrase 
or could it be she trims the verse 
at first a blessing, now a curse                 

For how, in all that we call soapless 
dare we attempt the quest most hopeless 
our battle joined to best Ymir 
is futile, now that charlie's here.                 

welcome to our filthy group.                

What kind of animal would I be?

by Lerk                 

I'd be a Grizzly Bear, with a limp 
cute and cuddly-looking 
until you crossed too close 
then, wham! off flies your head 
in a southerly direction 
while your body still points North                 

I'd be a Grizzly Bear, with a limp 
all furry and sweet and nice 
until you spammed or threatened me 
then you'd better book 
while you still have feet. 
the last pair hang on my mantle.                 

I'd be a Grizzly Bear, with a limp 
just to be fair, the gait 
would give a moment's head start 
to give both you and I a chance 
to reconsider your approaching doom.                 

Lerk 
(non-rhyming poems are, oddly, harder for me.)                

Why does Lerk talk to trees

by Lerk                 

because trees are very old 
and trees are very wise 
They never catch a cold 
or brag about their size

I forget the rule 
of the lofty Haiku 
can anybody tell?                 

dohhh! what is the rules again?     

there once was a villager named lerk
who's duties he wanted to shirk
so posted all day
put his assignments away
and promptly was fired a work  

Ok, ok, I'll make a choice 
twixt unpronounceable, or pepper 
It's time I excercised my voice 
Or shun me like a leper                 

the pepper red is mighty fine 
I've eaten quite a few 
but tame as toast I find the taste 
as bland as oatmeal stew                 

so one more spanner in the works 
a tiny alteration make 
to be consistent with our world 
and give our gullets a break                 

I nominate another plant 
and don't think me a mean-o 
but no peppers ever nuked so well 
as our friend the jalapeno                 

(tis a pepper, no? tis radioactive, yes?) 
who wouldn't like this newest guess?                 

Lerk                 

spanner thrower 
general rabble rouser

Oz-ite, I read your verse
I catch your point
but what is worse
I am in total assent
but on one I oin't                

To each their own
I think you said
except Pk's are the stone
through my plate glass,
They wish me very dead                

they arent each-ing their own
they're bleach-ing my bones
uninvited, don't you see?                

That's the exception
Otherwise warm reception
from innocent ones such as we                

This rhyme schemes all haywire
it doesn't make much sense
Please don't raise your bastard ire
and leave off compliments                

er...where was I?                

oh yes, talking to that birch tree over there...

just curious and what is worse
I need to know if any verse
I penned myself will make its way
inside the tome which you did say
you're collecting....hmmmm??                

Lerk the erstwhile poet wannabe                

Im flattered and touched, and yes, a little ashamed.
the masses have searched and dug and railed at my name
NO excuses have I , to still the din
But Demons to fight, to battle the sin
I'm caught in the whirl of the pool of the host
of the underdwelling nefarious diabolical ghost
of Diablo...
Refrain:
Oh, Diablo has trapped us
in the maelstrom of bile
and wrapped us in time warps
that make us gone the while
                

Yers always                

though talk of beer is deep and dark
a sip my lips cannot partake
of many things on shelf I'd parked
include the vice of potent slake
I just cannot abide that thirst
my health for it would turn the worst.                

but cheer ye up, my hearty friends
and sadden not the bleary eyes
Continue slurping suds and blends
and allow me adopt the guise
of tilting up my pepsi diet
and keep my uproar to a riot                

toast you though, and hold not back
tis only brain cells that you'll lack
and won't you know twill be such fun
to kill them off, all one by one
and burp a little there for me
remind me of my former glee.
                

gosh, I'm running out of rhyme
how does ymir do it all the time?

Age is not the important factor,
In this critical debate,
I happen to have a rule of thumb,
That is really great.
When you by a used vehicle,
From the used car lot,
It's the mileage that matters to you,
The age - not a jot.
                

faint roadwear upon my face
makes sure you know I ran the race
if not the victor, lack the spoil
I purred like kitten
leaking oil                

burma shave