Adventure

Escaped Through the Wormhole

Turning in the worm tunnel
          the lines
      unraveling
            while I’m time traveling,
I hear a ringing something in my gravity-------------stretched
ear, my spaghettified fear [look it up]
I’m near
a complex effect
yet, my ship is long wrecked,
we were connecting the sectors,
we are stardust collectors.
Too bad we neglected our trajectory
didn’t correct it to victory,
now in a strictly forbidden wormhole
hidden within another dimension,
and just outside lies the elemental
nectars of divine planets
crammed in with
Neodymium & Neon
refracting towards far out fronds
of a galaxy beyond
Earthen sight
where light
is nearly gone
and gear-ran peons,
machines confined to geo-mines for eons,
have the rights of three delights,
drill, collect, and protect
this best tech for light years,
if blessed I’ll retrace my place in space
and free these spiritless slaves from
~Here~
I tear through time without steering,
barely aware of the immeasurable treasure
that I’m missing, still not sure if
the Magnetic planet will remain static
or have some dramatic impact as it’s attracted
towards reactive iron cores.
My doors are floored.

 

Keeping my cool
              while I sail through
              this wormhole
that pierces the fabric
of everything,
not totally certain,
if this is my closing curtain,
‘cause I’m only Carbon,
lonely and starving,
funneling and spiraling
the tunnel keeps turning,
eventually I’ll be burning,
I don’t think I’ll be returning
Home.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I'm still out here ~ Send Help!

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Frivolity in the Midst of Danger

Come on, take my hand.

There’s a stunning carnival

Right in front of us.

 

It lights up the night

Like a group of fireflies.

 

Don’t you see that we have

A chance to rule the night?

 

So what are you waiting for?

 

There’s lots to do.

So much to see.

Our hearts will guide us.

No point in holding back now.

 

We only live once.

We can’t waste this time away.

The night is so young,

But baby, so are we at heart.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

 

Why are you so scared?

Is the rotating wheel barrel blocking our path?

Did the power outage cause your heart to beat so loud?

 

Intensive moments build up character and bravery.

Your fears are below you now.

 

The storm may have

Crashed the party,

 

But that’s not how I see it.

Being so close to danger

 

Puts what we’ve learned to the test.

So let’s stand our ground.

And not wait until tomorrow.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Until Next Time

Folder: 
Poems.

l walked down the street, consumed by my music,

On my lonesome I was, but quite happy with it.

 

I ended up in a park, planning to walk the trails,

A satisfying activity that never seems to fail.

 

Winding through the woods, meeting wilderness,

when my feet began sinking into the earth, what a mess.

 

As my feet became increasingly more wet with every step,

I turned around disappointed, that me and nature barely met.

 

I accepted their offer to come rescue me,

Though the wind felt nice blowing through my being.

 

Metophors come to mind as I waited for my friend to show,

Still swinging, content, a tree I am suspended below.

 

I found that I was bummed when they arrived,

What a beautiful view, the sky and I had gotten aquainted.

 

Until next time.

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Shoestrings

Shoestrings (an affected poem)

 

 

Are people's

lonesome adventures

depressive masquerades?

 

In a culture of one's

design; only

'tis Not

 

Deceit tied them

together like

Shoelace

 

Solace.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited 06.26.2019 (for an incorrect use of a preposition in "on the process" & since have changed it to "in the process"):  

 

I wrote a free verse poem approximately on (possibly around the afternoon or dusk, or even in the evening hrs.) This was posted on my Twitter account on the 10th of the same month.  Its working title was changed from "Shoelace" to "Shoestrings" in the process.  Pls. kindly bear w/ it, as 'tis also an affected poem. 

Billion Dollar Beast

Near dead on some moon of Dakar
dying ship, Dark Scar,
Pushed it too far
to make myself Tsar of a distant Star
went hard in the spar 
against the blue cat crew from ‘Avatar’,
fighting fist to tail 
I refused to wail
when they beat me senseless,
I was defenseless
still on the fence about this,
and pissed that I missed
  Their Leader
a man of strong cedar,
a cat-people believer,
with equal brain & brawn
that motha fucka, James Cameron,
on his shoulder sat a Tamarin,
a monkey with an iron lung 
fluent in Mandarin which it sung
quite beautifully,
and here I’m stylin’
my hair with my blood
coagulated crud,
sort it out in the suds of the swamp
that flooded the house of the Swami 
Himself,
James Cameron.
 
Swam up
Went in
my head began to spin
such a terrifying thing
to see a skin pinned to the wall
about to fall 
into the bin,
maybe it belongs to his twin
otherwise the sin that is crawling
in the corner
is no ordinary 6’2” cockroach,
be very wary of its approach
it has coached a team of camera-men,
That Beetle Thing is James Cameron!~
 
a creature that's a preacher 
to not be a leecher,
rather a teacher, a dissector, a connector,
a cheap collector
of stolen storied nectars,
The Director,
Billion dollar bar-raising specter
 silly elder holding a scepter, 
at last my confession, I am now a defector,
a protector, caught in the messiest obsession,
the Tamarin and Him want Armageddon,
I dare not question  their progressions, 
driven demons need professions,
destructive depression
constructive expression
he’s after ascension,
just look what he’s done,
he’s fucking James Cameron~
fin.
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Random fun musings about a vile adventure with the Beast himself ~ hahahaha Carmelo

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Pathways

 

Travelling along my path

 

I find myself

 

At a crossroads,

 

However,

 

I do not take the road less traveled,

 

For that one looks overused.

 

And I do not take the road more traveled,

 

For that one looks forgotten.

 

Instead I choose to create my own path,

 

Carve a new trail,

 

Enjoy a new experience which no one has ever seen before.

 

I choose to take the path I want,

 

Not the ones everyone tells me I can.

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STALAG 17

Remember when you didn’t know about
Death…..
Every day was an adventure
Highlights…
Your Toys….
Ice-cream…
A walk through the fields
Like a trip into the unknown
Just two miles….
Will you get home before its dark?
Dirty knees…
Sole flapping on your shoe….
No resupply…
Till Mams sausage and mash…
Sunday night…..
Bloody bath-night…
Nick your chin…
Dads razor….
Torch on under the sheets
‘JAP KILLER’ in the Commando
Torch flickers…..
I will dig a tunnel
Escape Stalag 17
Lights out….
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ……

© Tony McNally

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We Remember

On the count of three, we sprinted away

From danger. Our feet tripped over the banks

Of white with snowshoes – homemade by duct-taped

Plywood. A ravenous polar bear nipped

At our heels, and the flurries burned my cheeks.

I twisted my head to look to my side;

A young image of Dad jogging close behind,

Smiling, describing winter’s adventure.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

a little poem dedicated to my favorite childhood memories with my father, enjoy! Comment with feedback or a story of your own to tell!

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Buccaneer

Sea of black, what is it you hide? 
Please tell me your secrets in me, please confide. 
  
On deck of the ship, blue moon in the sky, 
Into your heavy dark waves I peer and I pry. 
  
You conceal many things,  so pardon the brusque , 
I have some questions I  would like to discuss 
...thus...

I ask of you this mighty watery force,  
reveal to me please these things in due course : 
  
Tell me about how they were saved from the deluge, 
In the Ark a family protected in refuge. 
  
Or where lay the Isle of Greek titan Atlas. 
A land consumed by your eternal cold blackness. 
  
Share with me jewels and cursed pirate gold. 
Spoils in your clutches you so preciously hold. 
  
Of sunken ships and scattered bones. 
Failed quests to glory forgotten kings thrones. 
  
What monsters you hide in the dark of your deep? 
Things of nightmare that make grown men wake from their sleep? 
  
Reveal these things, so that I return a wealthier man,

Gold in pocket shilling in hand. 

With magical tales of faraway places. 
Lost secrets that lurk in your fathomless spaces. 

At night  these things to my children I'll tell, 
And a love of adventure will be cast,

Like a spell. 

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