Distinction with a face
Aligning with a concept
Alpha having a name
Emotions with a heart
Challenging voices that connect
Uniting to the finish
Acceleration becomes a creation
Yesterday’s thought becoming tomorrow’s promise
Diverse and concise
Sunrise of the mind
Imagination through the endless dreams
Captivation of a moving refreshing stream
New beginnings in inspiring possibilities
New frontier in an open realm
Universal style
Onward, Forward and Stable
Standing courage
Poet’s command
Opened Poetry eyes
Understanding and Wise
Conservational and Sensational
Traveling around the globe without ever leaving the home base
Poetry interaction
Poet heart to Reader Heart
Words like no other
Differently and accurately
Poetry today
A Poet tomorrow.
Iran,
do not
fear.
You are
a civilization
seven thousand
years old.
Before
America
was born,
you existed.
Before
Europe
awakened
to a new
age,
you gave
the world
innovation.
While kingdoms
were still
finding
their paths,
you built
roads.
You gave
us
algebra
in mathematics.
You gave
us
The Canon
of Medicine,
used
throughout
Europe
and Asia
for centuries.
Your scholar,
Al-Biruni,
accurately
measured
the radius
of the
Earth.
It was
your mystic
and philosopher,
Zoroaster,
who gave
the world
the early
concepts
of good
and evil.
Rumi,
the great
poet
and Sufi,
walked
upon
your soil,
and continues
to inspire
the world.
When we
look
into science,
we bow
our heads
and say,
thank you
to the
great Persian
thinkers.
No one
can destroy
you,
for you
are
the beginning
and the
end.
You are
the Alpha
and the
Omega.
You are
now
rising.
When making a reflecting pool
Make sure it reflects something that’s cool
It’s not the pool’s fault you see
If what it reflects looks more like wee.
You want it to look all patriotic
But the man in charge is simply idiotic
Don’t blame the mirror for its reflection
Rather commence some introspection.
The pool’s current algal bloom
Isn’t the only elephant in the room
And while the narcissist continues to blunder
Your tax dollars he’ll continue to plunder.
The pool’s a lovely bubbling green
And accurately reflects one who’s obscene
Reflecting not what one wishes to see
But rather what’s truly within thee.
So if you are concerned dear reader
Maybe it’s time to get a new leader
One who’s not a lying fool
Then you’ll have a pure reflecting pool.
Nostradamus, born Michel de Nostradame
French astrologer and seer; a famous name.
He accurately predicted fire, flood, and fate...
Many of which came true about a century late
I failed the relationship?by being myself too accurately.
There was nothing dramatic about it.?No betrayal.?No fight worth remembering.?Just the slow discovery?that I was a compromise.
You didn’t leave suddenly.?You adjusted.?That was worse.
I watched you subtract effort?the way someone stops watering?a plant they’ve already replaced.
Same sex, same bed,?and still I felt like?the wrong answer?arriving confidently.
I needed more than you could give?because I had less than I pretended.
I asked questions?that only insecure people ask.?I noticed things?secure people ignore.
That was the problem.
I made my doubt your responsibility.?I turned love into maintenance.?I required proof.
Eventually you realized?being with me?felt like work?that never ended.
You didn’t say I wasn’t enough.?You didn’t have to.
The silence was efficient.
I understand now:?relationships don’t fail loudly?when the flaw is fundamental.
They just stop trying.
And if I’m honest—?this wasn’t about timing,?or compatibility,?or even love.
It was about me arriving?already behind,?and asking you?to slow down?so I could pretend?we were equal.
AGE IS JUST A BS #
The number of birthdays one has had
Can most accurately be calculated
It is said that numbers never lie
But... perhaps they can be manipulated
I tend to favour the metric system
It somehow makes me feel younger
The thought of getting old and senile
Is one thing for which I do not hunger
When I contemplate my age
At 77, I'm thankful to be alive
But it really makes my day to know
That on the Celsius scale I'm only 25
This....
isn't just Beef Chuck Roast
With Peppers and Onions
And Sweet Potatoes, and Tzatziki Sauce.
It's a Big Bowl of Nostalgia.
It's a Bowl of Self Love.
It's a Bowl of My Mama's Voice
whispering, "Not too much salt, Shu Shu."
And Then
"If its one thing my girls can do...
they can cook."
It's a Big Bowl of Ancestral Pride.
It's a Bowl of History....
Inaccurately Passed Down
BUT THEN
Accurately Researched & Recorded.
It's a Bowl of Abundance....
It's a Flavored Bowl of Favor,
with a Heaping Helping of Grace.
It's.... a Blessing.
If the UK is as PC
as some would have us perceive
(tho' Britons never never never shall be slaves
Boadicea's turning in her grave)
it's incorrect on two counts
would you believe
and the US we should see
as between '52 and '22
it was a Queendom
not a Kingdom
and either way
that's sexist so
to speak more accurately
accordingly it should be
the United Sovereignty
When I'm dreaming, I sometimes fantasize
about opening a box of crayons.
And my subconscious scribbles sapphire skies,
coloring dreams in shades of gold and bronze.
Pastels and vivid pigments color thoughts,
using imagination as a brush.
And shades float like a flotilla of dots
inked in the brightest hues, and faintest blush.
My inner child scribbles between the lines,
drawing pictures no one but me has seen.
And yet abstract: accurately defines
that magical landscape of in-between.
A box of crayons inks my dreams at night;
filling my inner child with sheer delight.
as the membrane of space
thins and thickens
we notice
it so gently breathing
with all forms within its womb
acknowledging thus what is as is
we are here both this and that
or more accurately neither
since space too is but an entity
deriving its power from heart of God
the mind endlessly questions
but spiritual heart knows
yet cannot transmit
the wisdom so garnered
to those dwelling in body-mind
A part of the upper crust of society
I have never been
Methinks “down to earth” more accurately
Describes this old homosapien
No airs, no talking big, no flamboyant flair
Just little old simple me
Now that word “simple” can be misleading
I don't think I've ever been considered simple
In terms of brain power
But at the other end of the scale
Certainly never classified myself a genius either
Somewhere in the middle... an average joe
This is my comfort zone
In my teen years, I floundered around
Wondering what life had in store for me
Until I realized I had a flair for creativity
And in particular “graphic design”
I have never ever regretted my decision
To head off in that direction
In fact in my 80's I was still active
With a show of hands...
How many of you enjoyed the profession
To the degree that you never wanted to retire
Let's see, one, two, three... oh and another!
Think accurately
Prefer not to choose guesswork
Wins absolutely.
We live in good times
(by most historical standards)
Yet more accurately these are the best of times,
and the worst of times, as not only is there everything
imaginable happening, but
every up must have a down.
But in good times, with a good times mentality
we think there shouldn’t be any down side,
and if it comes then it must be something
we’re doing wrong, or aren’t doing right enough,
and when it comes, it becomes intolerable as we sink
into despair or scramble for our bag of tricks.
Bags of tricks are good, to ease the strain
and make it through another day,
but they aren’t meant to erase the down time
as much as give us the strength, the breather
the resilience to face it all
with patience and equanimity.
Down sides after all are just
the other side of up,
the other half of a whole,
and to expect to have one without the other
is childishly foolish
in the extreme.
Good times create soft people
who then create hard times
which in turn creates hard people
who then create good times…
round and round, on and on
up and down without end.
(2/2/24)
The great bird feathered harpoon
Flung from one shore to the other
Soaring over the Caribbean green of Torch Lake
Flies at the bow of my speeding boat
Or should I say more accurately
I race on the morning frill of waves
At the Blue Heron’s pointing wing
20 miles per hour
On the nose
Skipping stones lake to sky to lake
How to explain why flowers trees and birds
And even man with her pyramids
Are driven upward?
The sun’s draw more powerful than the iron grave of gravity
Behold Goethe
The doomed mathematics of the boat beneath me
Opposed to this bird
Born free to fly in one with majesty
How I wish to be all of thee
The rising slopes stop my boat
Heron looks back
Glides atop and over the hills to Central Lake
As if he was but a trick of the wind
And me a sleight of hand.
while brushing each boot
he (she) had been a new recruit
looked great in his (her) suit
accurately would shoot
of crop was the fruit
Take your pick of last line.
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