If Romeo and Juliet could meet
And mate enmasque a thousand years ago,
Then our short period of trick and treat
Could generate a love none would outgrow.
For we hid not behind a frightened mask,
Nor sought protection cleverly disguised;
With eager joy we warmed up to the task
And found ourselves most pleasantly surprised.
Discovery and moonlit interlude
Replaced by coffee bars and taxi rides;
No balcony to climb, no attitude
To change, our long-developed love abides.
The Bard wrote “star-crossed lovers” with his pen,
But we are not; let’s do it all again!
It’s 4/20…
yeah I’m rolling it tight
Fingers kinda sticky,
got that smell on me right
Grind it down slow,
let it fall just right
That first spark hit different
in the quiet of night
Pull in deep…
let it sit in my chest
Hold it a second
like I’m giving it rest
Then I breathe it out,
watch the smoke drift away
Like all the little things
I ain’t tryna hold today
Pass it to myself,
yeah I don’t need a crowd
Just me and this blunt
and my thoughts getting loud
Eyes getting low but my mind
getting clear
Funny how the haze
make the real feel near
Rebeltease… still me,
just slowed down a bit
Ash on my fingers,
lips tasting the hit,
It ain’t even about
being gone or pretend
It’s me, my weed…
and a moment to mend ??
92.
My 20th Leaf
Plucked thee from near ground
Sprouts independent
On clayey barren
It's the weed type one
A pretty wild “fern”!
Basco family
Neighbor but not kin
Are they owning it?
Now that it's a weed?
Yet on their domain?
January Thirteenth
Friday Twenty Twelve
Old Nong Toging's wake
Night before burial
Saw some my students
Neighborhood to North
Way to the crossing
Not along the road
Front concrete abode
Beside bamboo fence
Friday the Thirteenth
Last day – Amaya
Hour after watch it
Saw CapSU students
I & some cousins!
-01/13/2012
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Born in era of
rotary phones and
Western Union telegrams,
my fingers now dance
on glass—no dial tone~
a frequent user of Facetime.
I carry the memory
and weight
of paper maps,
while satellites whisper
turn left, turn back.
My hands remember card catalogs,
my breath still holds
the scent of old book glue,
but my eyes keep adjusting
to the glare of forever screens.
My fingers recollect
the shudder of a manual typewriter
as it punched its teeth
into the blank white throat of tomorrow.
I recall when cloud meant rain,
when stream was a small river with fish.
Now my hands ache from phantom keyboards,
my dreams buffer between decades.
I am a bridge, a relic, a traveler,
carrying the 20th century
like loose change in my pocket,
spending it carefully
in this bright,
impatient 21st century.
Billionaires live in a rat hole
And hoard funds for their barren soul
Their burrows and blight
Are nests out of sight
Where pest control's just whack-a-mole
The rich bribe the prez with cash nuts
And praise Trumpenstein's rodent guts!
Those privileged imbibe
Tax cuts for their tribe
While we'll eat what's dropped from their butts
It was two decades ago today when an actor took his final breath.
When he starred in Doctor Who, he starred in "The Robots of Death".
His name was Russell Hunter and he was born in February of 1925.
Next year would've been his 100th birthday if he had survived.
Hunter starred in nineteen episodes of "The Gaffer" and one episode of "Born and Bred".
People in England were sad twenty years ago today because they learned he was dead.
In 1976, he starred in one episode of "Play From A".
He also starred in "Daddy's Girl" and "Up Pompeii".
Hunter starred in "The Cockleshell Heroes" and one episode of "The Bill".
When it comes to forgetting him, the good people of England never will.
[Dedicated to Russell Hunter (1925-2004) who died twenty years ago today on February 26, 2004]
FREE VERSE
words
framed
in
white space
phrasal lines
enjambed
with
a line break
in a fluid
left margin
so flexible
continually
discovered then
discarded
later rediscovered &
reinvented
'twas ever thus
20th Century
David J Walker
Grandfather
Father and
Each father’s son
All went to war
One by one
But no one was left
When the fighting was done
At the end of the 20th Century
God our Father
Watches below
The direction His Children
Would inevitably go
And where it would stop
No one would know
At the beginning of the 21st Century
John Wayne would not entertain
self-doubt or indecision
jumped in again and again
with full blown tunnel vision
pure bravado does not stop
mortality's sure advance
nothing can give assurance
we will have that one last dance
not every situation
is cause to pose scream and shout
will be no acclimation
if we can't find our way out
lies turn into bolder lies
words sole purpose is deceit
no use trying to disguise
sometimes we'll take a backseat
unease growing faster now
leering faces seem stranger
no one going to ask how
words led to this much danger
not an outstanding question
of what might make it alright
flat out wrong situation
when lives are taken for spite
cannot simply turn and run
at this point of no return
too much cannot be undone
to dodge permanent downturn
this world's not all black and white
except in minds which are closed
we've all become wrapped too tight
in myths long ago composed
John Wayne would stick to his guns
in those technicolor dreams
but we're the actual ones
coming apart at the seams
November 20th 2021st
Walgreen’s parking lot, Omaha Nebraska
7:30 p.m.
Police in cars have stopped pursuing Gang Member A aka GMA.
A young woman’s car door gets pulled open.
GMA yells “Get the F……. out!”
She thinks he is joking.
He grabs her and throws her out of the car.
It is HER car.
Her purse.
Her stuff.
She is young, and upset.
She jumps back in, on his lap, trying to get her keys.
He tosses her back out and runs over her driving foot.
Breaking it in sixteen places.
She is barely eighteen.
A senior in high school.
Young and helplessly naïve.
A police helicopter which had continued pursuit of GMA captured this on video.
The entire episode recorded for the watching.
I would have not run across this tale if it had not been my granddaughter.
But it was.
She had a two hour surgery today.
Morphine is the only thing that gives her relief.
I did not think it was possible to hate a person I have never met.
But at this moment
I despise Gang Member A.
Missionaries… called by God to preach* and perform what they teach
anchored upon Scriptures, exemplifying Christ in good works’ earnestness
souls they compassionately win, as hearts by grace they reach
labouring with mercy and truth, praying while building lives, despite afflictions
sacrificing, taking up own cross, conquering individual selfishness
presenting Gospel of redemption; to repent, fellow men beseech
while offering eternal security as gift from the Saviour’s loving kindness.
*1Corinthians 9:14 Even so hath the Lord ordained that they which preach the gospel should live of the gospel.
July 25, 2021
1st place, "A Brian Strand Rime Me" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 8/26/2021.
West Virginia, my beloved home state
East of the Mississippi
South of the Mason-Dixon Line
Thirty-Fifth State of the Union. *
Verdant fields and vast woodlands
Intersected by broad, rushing rivers,
Resplendent with towering mountains.
Gem of tourists and outdoor adventurers,
Individualism and independence prized,
National treasure
In the heartland of the
Appalachian Mountain region.
Written June 20, 2021, West Virginia’s 158th birthday
[*West Virginia was made a state by proclamation of
President Abraham Lincoln on June 20, 1863. It is the
only state created by a presidential proclamation.]
Air-Bourn Into the 20th Century
David J Walker
I was one of the soldiers who
Missed the target of the jump
Nine months up in a cloudless sky
Where some were chosen to live
And others to die
Before their boots hit the ground
Where I found myself in a
Mid -20th Century place that
Didn’t need me to be Prole fodder
Although it didn’t matter to a
Volunteer who chose not to be
Anywhere else
Though prepared and yet
Too inexperienced to be scared
Of the dilemmas of the battle of
Those willing to do the killing in
The business of war
I jumped into the 20th century
Where I thought there would
Never be more
than this
At the end of
a Mushroom Cloud
the 20th century is the man power of the 20th century
the 20th century is the stool of the 20th century
the 20th century is a skilled stool
man power is a stool of man power
man power is a stool of a 20th century
man power is a skilled stool
the 20th century is a skilled of the 20th century
the 20th century is a skilled of man power
experience is a stool of experience
experience is experienced of a stool
experience is experienced of man power
experience is a skilled experience
experience is a power of experience
power is a skilled power
power is a skilled experience
power is a skilled 20th century
power is a skilled stool
power is man power of a stool
power is man power of a 20th century
power is man power of a experience
a skill is a skilled man power
Parallel to loneliness was I,
then day broke and I awoke with ease-
lovely Autumn breeze and cobalt sky,
joy prevails and hopelessness does cease.
A day when weeping willows don’t cry,
tangerine sunset between the trees-
smiles resound in love we can’t deny,
we hold hands swearing true guarantees.
Beautiful day renewing our vows.
Queen Of Day 9 x 9 Poetry Contest
Charles Messina
September 19, 2019
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