At the close of some
overcast and rainy days –
unexpected pots of gold.
~
In the fading light
luminescent puddles shine
in the evening afterglow.
At the close of some
overcast and rainy days –
unexpected pots of gold.
~
In the fading light
luminescent puddles shine
in the evening afterglow.
Please find a new lens;
chromatic aberration
has tinged our world red and blue.
~
And yellow too. So
few have the courage to seek
and speak what is simply true.
What rough beast slouched his
way to West Virginia to
speak crassly to the Boy Scouts?
~
Vile toads that croak
crassly to the darkest cess
lingering from bygone days.
One drop, another,
and all clarity dissolves,
replaced by pleasant bokeh.
~
A lens that creates
a pleasing out-of-focus
blur – a politician’s dream
As summer swelters
and the undrained swamp boils,
what bubbles to the surface?
~
That undrained swamp
is full of Russian waters
from presidential quarters.
What if he opened
his heart instead of grabbing
others’ body parts?
~
Assuming he could find
his tiny heart to open,
he’d have his hands full with pain.
The sound machine roars
drowning out the cries of folk
trying to meet basic needs.
~
Round and round it goes
distracting many folks from
what’s right before them.
Incoherency
can pay if clarity would
make you look the fool.
~
More obfuscation
can not cloud the obvious;
there’s still lipstick on that pig.
Why must people use
unnecessary verbiage
when silence can speak volumes.
~
It’s obvious we
need to turn the volume down
and sometimes off is better.
Any words to help
us remember we are part
of a larger whole?
~
I don’t do uplift.
This political climate;
I’m trancechannelling Eyore.
When sticky wetness
rules these nasty summer days
can we hope to find relief?
~
If you stick inside
you might find relief but be
bored beyond belief.
Sometimes bad bills don’t
make their way through Congress for
all the wrong reasons.
~
But rarely does good
legislation progress
despite ample benefit.
Morologia
flows frequently and freely
from alabaster abodes.
~
Foolish talking (yes,
my fellow poet, I looked
it up) flows from all of us.
When the captain of
the ship loses his compass,
what should the crew do?
~
Captain Queeg’s guys knew
exactly what they must do
to save their ship from the storm.
Evening quietude,
soaking in the dusky balm,
is this true serenity?
~
When serenity
comes, it comes unannounced and
fills us with a quiet peace.
If we’re judged by the
company we keep, why don’t
they ask saints to the White House?
~
Because those Saints know,
judged also, will they too be
by the company they keep.
Taking a night off
from all higher mind pursuits
to watch mindless cinema.
~
Sometimes the best thing
we can do is flip the off
switch, take a break, and not do.
Are true believers
willing to accept each and
every lie they’re told?
~
They savor bitter
earthy acid, so they say,
like all IPA drinkers.
When reality
clouds and lines begin to blur,
how do we know where we stand?
~
A relaxed focus
helps us see clouds, ground and self,
bringing us reality.
Surely something is
askew when we find ourselves
servants to our pets.
~
To what high purpose
may mere humans aspire
than serving pets, I ask you?
May we not trifle
poolside for endless hours
as we did in yesteryear?
~
Permission granted,
my dear son. You’ve spent many
hours slaving in the sun.
Why do we sometimes
have so much trouble taking
‘yes’ for an answer?
~
Listening to “yes”
can be tough fare to swallow
after long diets of “no”.
What is more soothing
to a stiff, aching body,
than a calm day in the sun?
~
Immersion in light
and warmth can help ease aches of
mind, body, and soul.
When the music stops
and we have all gone home, what
will we take with us?
~
Resonating beats,
lyrics that speak to our heart,
and lifetimes of memories.
Not all tsunami
come from undersea earthquakes;
some rise from deeper waters.
~
And not all fires
can be put out with watered
down attempts at empathy.
What do you think? Are
the fireworks over or
have they just begun?
~
When everyone’s guns
are locked, loaded, and ready,
more fireworks are certain.
Is there any peace
from the unceasing chaos
of a home with teenagers.
~
Peace with teenagers –
as unlikely as chaos
without Donald Trump.
Today I declare
my independence from all
presidential tweets.
~
And from servitude
to the casual whimsy
of all mean spirited men.
When barbecue smoke
rises into summer skies,
is this true independence?
~
Smoke signals galore
mark our independence from
ye old kitchen stove.
Have you ever tried
to tiptoe through the tulips?
And if you did, why?
~
I’d more likely trip
the light fantastic since I
tiptoe like an Angus Bull.