A nation rainbow
It rained and rained, fine rain but persistent
mountains dissolved, and rocks turned into sand
When the rain stopped, a smooth landscape
of peace and camel dung
Before the deluge, people who had sinned were
stoned to death since this was no longer
Possibly the sinner had to eat a kilo of carrots
until they turned orange and
were not invited to dinner
or supervised at the supermarket
The authorities thought this was a good idea and
made a color program,
to better classify
left-wingers
and radicals, making them eat cabbage till they
turned green and could not hide their socialism
tendency and forbidden to enter posh restaurants
The government liked this so much that they decided to
Classify all classes, beetroots for the royals
deep yellow for the middle class, and potato peel
for the working class and pink for artists
Alas, people fall in love across the color barrier
Their children looked like rainbows and were impossible to classify
Therefore, the government declared everyone's
equals, but instead build bigger prisons
Seventeen candles on her cake
the world awaits with all it offers
~ a bouquet of budding dreams
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
O my shadow, sail away.
Be thou far from me.
Morning deadly, thou art grey.
Poison, hear my plea.
Torn apart, O tones of time?
Nerves inside us, roil.
Countenance of bitter crime!
Belladonna, boil!
River, in thy deepest cave.
Giant, see thy grave.
Sidewalk cracked and needing pave.
Savior, time to save.
Armies of forgotten gone!
Tend thy fiercest rage!
Blackout, blossom! O my swan!
Broken, O my cage!
Automaton, mad machine!
Envy turned them green!
Roundabout run red! I deen?
Just what have I seen?
Moon above, thy fullest.
Lunatic, thy fringe.
Fill the brazen bull? Best!
Murder, on the binge!
Great queens, from thy black abyss!
Give the end a kiss!
Such a night! What lurked in this?
Serpent, time to hiss!
Hope, accrue? What do we do?
Magnetize the flue!
Stick together just like glue!
Make the whole world new...
The house whispers
as I awaken
and a dream plays.
My loft breathes as I get up.
The block on the hill
still after the night’s
storm, and a story
plays in my head
remnants of a love
I once had. The cat
rumbling on my chest.
shares the moment.
…
Tires sing as I drive
along the river
as it takes in reflections
of sun. I’ve viewed
the scene many times.
I’m seeing it again.
Public Radio plays
a feature on psychology
and the triumphs and trials
of life, and I cry out
This is me. This is me.
‘’’
In a diner, dishes clink
and patrons laugh
while elderly cajole
their granddaughters
voices filled with promise
about the lives that lie
ahead.
…
I walk away
from old conversations
the pain felt
after someone left for good
and unanswered questions.
…
I stay true
to one thousand voices
in my head.
A new poem I seek.
Youthful airs come and gone
turning heads for all the wrong reasons
painfully desperate to attract attention
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
The Adventurer
The Adventurer
No, I tell you, Elon Musk, I will not
Go to Mars, it is dry, and has pink nights
and wind-blown days
Settlers will live in caves without
dogs and cats to make life on Mars
livable without caresses
No, Musk, I refuse to go unless your
assurances the cave living will be
temporary and live will last forever
I have found a planet that is lefty
Where right is left and left is right
with a teddy bear for every child
The consolation
It is fascinating to think
one day we will be dead
not know we ever lived
Years will pass in wars
and struggles for peace
meaningless contracts
signed by the powerful
We'll not know of spring
flowers and romance
But the consolation is
We shall not know that
We ever lived
Spinning, a horse of gold,
I am four, a princess bold,
My first time on this magical ride,
With a giant, toothless, happy stride.
The music hums, a carousel tune,
I rise and fall beneath the afternoon moon.
The painted pony gallops fast,
A happy feeling that's made to last.
The world outside is a colorful blur,
My little heart gives a happy purr.
Around and around, the wind in my hair,
I'm flying high, without a care.
The ride slows down, the song is done,
A perfect end to a day of fun.
I step off the horse, a little sad to leave,
But I'll be back, I truly believe.
As strength deserts
my body
the weights grow
hard to lift
Each rep I fake
four breaths I take
and atrophy
persists
Those muscles ripped
in times long past
but memory
to me now
An aging racehorse
on the hill
one step
— beyond the plow
(Anytime Fitness: September, 2025)
Though it’s still partly cloudy in this street
& everybody follows the king’s fleet,
I’m following you to the ends of this world,
where I’ve replaced everything with your word,
I remain elsewhere like the empty plea
because you’re that fire burning inside me.
Though those agencies that create duets seem
to believe that a system employing well over
2, 000, 000 couples with infusions of bright visions
will need certain clearly specified characteristics
with objectives & noting costs to protect the new moon.
You’re that whirlwind blowing everything away,
that’s why in this play, I pray not to be the next prey.
I’m too late this morning & I won’t catch any bus,
though traders in their market won’t understand us.
To them, we’re actors in a tragic-comedy stage.
& we made a bold decision to try out the phage.
Give me your hands for a warmth of touch
& I won’t be in operational form in that skutch.
Give me your mouth for a kiss
when I listen to your coos.
Give me your whole body for burying me completely
when I pledge fealty.
They came saw and conquered
and plundered other nations heritage as trophies
voices of dissent drowned.
The elite saw themselves as the educated elite
wrote learned books about statues they had purloined
also told of what significance it had.
For the people robbed of their symbols.
The pilferers became ennobled.
Sometimes theft pays.
Most of the stolen culture ended up
in a museum, so the people could wonder
and be proud, although some had an afterthought.
Now that we live an enlightened time
the British Museum is no longer proud of their
possessions keep sending some cultural icons back
to the countries, they were taken from.
glossy black feather,
lost in the human shadow
ibis fades from sight.
I tell the same old stories
She still laughs at them
They have been polished
Somewhat embellished
Yet are true at their core
For memory entwines in truth
Capturing moments in a moment
Raises the curtain on a vision
Shared, relived, in an encore
Laughter’s tears together again
As I tell the stories I am the hero
Sharing the exploits of a life
The sensuous passion of a love
Imbedded in a moment’s now
Rescuing a time thought lost
In his mind the trains came for him
Yet in his sails the slaves left no mention
It sneaks up on all of us
Imperceptibly at first
But dawning slowly over time
Until it's time we took a hard look
In the mirror… and faced the truth
It's inescapable
It happens to all of us
First born, last born
People, places, governments, movements, principalities
It catches up with all
We must confront what we've become
Has the age of enlightenment become the age of entanglement?
That many-legged arachnid known as truth
Waits silently at the edge of the web… that tangled one we weave
When wonder becomes plunder, and balance becomes challenge
And the age of reason becomes likened unto treason
Who do we deceive… and what will be consumed?
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