Just because you can
Doesn’t mean you should
I told the little engine that could
Don’t be a jerk
Just because they are
Be an example be a star
Jealousy never ages well...
like a 70-year-old bow legged harlot.
Every year the mascara painted thicker
the strut less arrogant
with every sticky minute
no more virgin revelations
coming off clownish lips or pen...
A discarded dried-up turd...
to the bitter end.
Anger, the only remaining vice
of a burned-out free-falling life
So, sip your cold black coffee
From a cracked test tube
labeled "failed experiment".
(detail from "Methow Water", 2024, original encaustic)
Hallucination Engine
Whatever we touch
Morphs
Into a reflection
Of the toucher
And so it is
With all senses
Each reflecting
Our sense
Of self
No other but
An engine of creativity
In ever changing
Display
(2/4/24)
Diagonal snow
Glides effortless through
the countryside of the
Amputee windshield
For the passenger side
Has always had a reticent view
Steam rises loftily
From a topless treat
Of gas station coffee
That which further
Obfuscates the scene
Mousey and silent
Each flake falls
Like the wings of
An owl unhurried
Speckling the air
With flurries of tiny
Feathers
If snow is a blanket, is the
Earth a frightened child?
Is there a force, a specter
So haunting it summons
A crystal storm that beguiles,
Sure, a burden to some
But a spectacle for all.
High beams undress
The night, slipping away
Its silken onyx sundress
In its unblinking gaze I
Recall conversations with
Someone I no longer see
Hoping for fireplace romance
Surrounded in snow globe scenery
I try not to live
in the squall of regret
Even if every drop
Falls so softly, I must
Simply keep my foot
On the petal, and listen
To the engine’s counsel
Its kind whispering pistons.
Nobody know where it came from
just that one very wet foggy day
it emerged from some thick fog
moving very slowly and alone
It was blue but had a dark chimney
that glittered like a bowl of diamonds
A window that was surrounded by gray
And honey colored wheels that were connected
by a gray bar and in back was a glittering door
Once the rain stopped somebody stepped out
with trays of cookies for everyone with smiles on
their faces and aprons wrapped around them
Then they rwalked away and were heard shouting
"Enjoy!" as the little blue engine left
Charles Babbage
The full package
His invention tidal bore
Led to computers galore!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2nd place: ABCD Clerihew - 4 Lines contest; Sponsored by Joseph May
The car's engine Fred often fires.
He. simply, first checks the car's tires
And off moves, tires spitting fires:
Tubular rollers end up criers;
Traffic wardens with their "Stop!" liars:
Fred at what he loves never tires!
The strength Free Fred uses he hires
From booze and kola sold by Mires...
After three months Fred's Benz for buyers!
Often worse than cars long in mires.
Here’s a fire engine, my husband said.
Sure, I used to want one, and in red.
But I am now older, and wiser too.
I don’t want that anymore, you foo!
But honey, you always wanted one.
Sure, when I was eight, that dream is done.
He is always trying to please, this man of mine.
In a way, that is sweet, his attitude fine.
But my wishes have changed, my toys are new.
Expensive now, dealing with arthritis too.
I am enjoying compression socks,
Not marbles, trucks or a doll that talks.
I have outgrown fancy clothes, and jewelry now.
Where is my acid reflux pill? I take a little bow.
I gave away my Christmas stuff, too much work.
I don’t want a fire engine, I say with a jerk.
I want warm food, electricity and pumpkin pie.
I want to have my relatives visit once before I die.
My toys are simple, I buy what I need, but do not waste.
I like paints, glitter, canvases, and decoupage paste.
A fire engine? Sure, maybe I wanted one once upon a time.
But I have all the toys I need now, darling husband, of mine.
You are wonderful, honey. Thank you for thinking of me.
Please don't put a fire engine under this tiny tree!
Fire-engine
Now that it is autumn going towards winter
I often think about morbid things to avert this
I think of what I liked as a child.
The sound of the fire engine rushing through
the town; ran after it and felt heroic.
Often the fire was far away when I got there
it was too late; the fire had been small
rubbish burning in junkyard sot on a wall.
Firemen, rolling up their hoses, they
were called that, now they are firefighters
to make it more inclusive, mind you, I have
never seen a female among them, I knew
there were women at the fire-house.
I went there to have mother’s kitchen knives
sharped; they deftly wrote on typewriters.
I was going to be a fireman, they looked so
tall and tough, spitting manly.
Alas, a few years down the line, they grew smaller.
We are engines
not autonomous,
we need for
safe driving
two engines....
mine and yours..
My dear !
That's how we work. !
She thinks she can and chugs along where vistas dip and swell;
A rush of steam, a puff of smoke, a whistle and a bell.
Gonna buy me a haircut and polish up my boots
When that pretty little engine comes to town.
The miles speak more of landmarks passed than merely distance run;
The hiss and clatter, music gained, not quietude undone.
Gonna tune me a banjo and play it in the pines
When that pretty little engine comes to town.
She thinks she can, and so she does and rolls across the land.
Her brakes might squeak like nails on slate, but stop her on command.
Gonna grab me a ticket and really go in style
When that pretty little engine comes to town.
The engine.
Black smooth and ornate
Eons in its design.
Hell glows at its heart
Gears grind, turning into the void; sublime.
Darkness hunts,
Something drums...
Springs, Rings, Mechanical Parts.
Churn, Burn, turns...
They labor deep in the dark...
Onyx chrome sleek and full of mystery.
Eternal Engines deities.
Sparks fly, a roar deeply shakes...
The secret earth coil tightens.
Energy is loose...
Entangled minds,
That ponder and aspire.
Madness at matter.
All that is hidden
All that's desired.
Deep; unmoved soul
It waits and conspires.
Mysteries of the engines eons fold.
Dark, intricately carved by a divine hand.
A talented mechanical mind.
Humans with nothing to hold
Secrets of infinities coil...
A hand bleeds bold.
Of things humming in the dark...
With hell that is its heart
Crimson and amber bright
Aglow in the sacred night.
Buried deep within oblivion eons-long
Gears grind turning to the void, sublime.
Casting visions into the cold…
Creation marches to the song
Of spheres, as gods steer
engines blaze.
the engine housing
on outside porch ceiling fan....
mud-dobbing bird's nest
cat's small water bowl
nearly empty, needs refill....
one downy feather
through kitchen window
keep watch, no activity....
next day look again
anxiously wonder birds fate
The adult birds have gone I think. I see no activity. I don't know if the freezing temperatures destroyed the eggs, if one of the parents died or what could possibly have happened. I wonder if they will refresh the nest and try again or if one of them died.
Straight moves the locomotive train miles
Traveling over desert flatland forging ahead,
Coal steam engine Number 9 chug, chug, chug,
Sound waves rolls through, satisfying sensation is said.
Locomotive whistle sounds station steam rolling in,
Little one hears repeats ‘choo-choo’ rolls to stop,
All aboard! Rolls locomotion moving, snack on tasty
Peanut brittle, readying for dining car delicious hop.
Mom holds little son on her lap, with sounds
Cowboys and Indians along the train,
Surprise action wonder, heard of Hereford
Beef cattle is west trademark railroad vein.
Character western attitude locomotive fun
How the west was won whistle-stop rustic town,
Gold payload brought on of family and cousin
Forge ahead, chug along, Heaven brings us together joyous sound.
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