There once was a frog who found it difficult being green
I asked the frog “what do you mean?”
The frog seemed wanting to talk
While chewing on a delicious happy hour stalk
“It’s silver and black,
They raid things and that is a fact.”
I noted to the frog, “They have a new home,
In a social tourist area where you never really feel alone
Names like Trump and Wynn are on separate sides of the street
With all sorts of luring fixtures offered as a treat.”
“I heard about that,” the green gribbit stated
As I waited
“We are green and we soar, we take flight to show our might!”
I suggested
This simple message
“Go and travel and pound on that artistic gavel.”
“That is right,” the frog said striking down a bug looking for a fight.
“We are green and we have a dream
That is our white and we are ready with freedom and oil
And a supporter base that is insanely loyal.
Remind Allegiant Air they are one of us
While silver and black are transported on the RTC bus.
Chop Chop from this green pad to the bachelor’s one reserved for the Sunday’s peaceful gaming fun.”
candid is veiled virgin's synode tonight
Amble clouds gamble goblets filled tonight
Malidictions valid stand by nay firm
Untill a streak dismay wounds tonight
Love's debauchery who can now neglect
Allegiant callop alamored tonight
Waste nay tears for things silly O Drunkard
Do see silken robes over jet tonight.
Couch thy care ,offer good looks if ye care
Love has spread wings to lull lover's tonight.
How many candles shall burn upto ash
A heap under lashes protest tonight.
Let my old cheek's blush a stroke of love be
To write on horizon thy name tonight.
Ghazal
Seamless Breath
by Odin Roark
At sunrise,
Man-child of his heart,
Reaches past the years,
Washes little sleep down the drain,
Accepts the body once tight,
Combs the few strands still allegiant,
And uniforms the spirit
For today’s insistent strategy.
The street he walks
Presents new calendared thoughts
All in parade dress
Ready to forever advance
An abstract reality,
Where boots in lockstep
Accompany him beneath dim streetlamps
Of his insomnia.
Close by,
That place everyone calls infinity,
His aging self moves forward,
Fingering a few coins
In the playground-pockets of his youth,
Reminding him he can still pay his way,
He can remain part of…
Like so many other such days,
The breeze takes his hand,
Making lighter the books
He carries inside his head,
His secret Trojan Horse,
His means of entrance
To that place of voiceless teachers,
The forever windows without glass,
The blackboards erased clean
Of yesterday’s answers,
Anticipating today’s questions.
Such is the place he dreams each day with a smile,
Where eternity’s anima reveals the seamless breath of vision
Only visible with closed eyes.
Enslaving Love
by Odin Roark
An eagle rides the updraft
Peering down at the happenings
Man's best friend wags his tail
Hesitantly
A bouquet of flowers seeks the sun
Amidst relationship's cold-draft unrest
A baby simply close its eyes
Rejecting intrusion on innocence
So goes the conspiracy of the have-nots
Guised in sanguine images of love
How few fight back
Accepting the status quo
As contemporary truth
Families
The worst offenders
Politicians strong second
Bossdom at work, close third
Reality dictates
Agendas rule
And agendas are allegiant
To only their own moi
How insipid grows this weed of mind
A torturous maintenance
Made defeatist by default
Rendering but mulch as offspring
Yet
Some of dumb luck
Persevere
Finding somewhere
Antidotes for poison
Perhaps it's the unpolluted glass of water
The walk along a pristine forest path
Sitting on ancient sand
Ocean waters lapping one's feet
Willingness to drink in nature again
Disallowing today's misanthropic trend
To seduce what's left
For some
The echo is fierce
**** me
**** you
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