while torrid sparks lick heaven’s cheek
those Santa Anas sweep the peaks
and stoke the charring blaze that kills
each breathing creature ‘tween the hills
sweet Cali’s grandest homes and folk
engulfed with horror, screams and smoke
now ‘neath an arson’s scorching gun
there’s nothing left them but … to run
what weight we grant to things of price
quick-claimed by flame and heat’s device
there saves no faves from nature’s wrath
this beast burns whole what’s in its path
fire knows naught favored lands or name
midst blaze and smoke we’re all the same
and what with work we’ve come to earn
comes soot through conflagration’s burn
such fearsome heat, such searing scorch
damned hades wields this ruthless torch
though folks chance lives to slow its creep
there’s naught contained by work or weep
too much now lost this hellfire’s breath
the things and homes that meet their death
and yet, it’s through this hell on earth
we learn, once more, what LIFE … is worth.
Categories:
anas, analogy, fire, tribute,
Form: Rhyme
AN AYLESBURY DUCK https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aylesbury_duck
There's a duck
of high renown
bred &reared
in my county town
with orange
feet &plumage light
of culinary fame
this bird of snowy-white
neck so fine
& feathered crown
kept in cottages
now tumble down
reared in hovels & shack
a deep breasted duck
with ample back
an early layer
ready for spring
plucking feathers so tiring
boxed in flats on
London-bound carts
each
Saturday as clockwork
did depart
A Victorian food luxury
the main product of rural
Aylesbury
a duck
of worldwide renown
a noted product
of my home town
Year Posted 2007
Categories:
anas, food, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
If they can ban Dr. Seuss ~
They'll come next for Mother Goose
Categories:
anas, books, corruption, society,
Form: Epigram
I just remembered this-
The Santa Anas were blowing hard.
I woke up and stood at the patio door.
The table outside, its round glass top,
lifted perfectly, magically
up, floated,
and then down and shattered.
The physics and the timing
were perfect.
Some ancient stirring told me to look
for an answer,
perhaps a revelation.
But I went back to bed
and just now,
years later got it-
The glass rose and fell.
Categories:
anas, memory,
Form: Free verse
When sex was as common as muck
The Mallard took over as "Duck"
Not much for playing
The hens were laying
Because one and all loved its pluck*
* Like American police,
Anas platyrhynchos drakes mate
- repeatedly - with anything they
can get in a neckhold - and eagerly
join in gangbangs, leaving no doubt
that Chinese women had neither
voice nor choice in the selection of
the duck as a symbol of happiness!"
Categories:
anas, bird, lust,
Form: Limerick
The Call To Justice
When the days turn sourer
And the month turns dark
With the years flinging to return no more
Only the lonely already will thrive.
When the hopes of the Negros grow faint
Buried in the bellies of men in high positions
Who sit only for their own interests
With the future of the weak vanquishing into endless strife
Caused by the city’s loafers who do nothing but enjoy.
When the homeless graduates turn murderers
And jobless men are marked languid
Yet only the men in high positions progenies relish
Then let those who have never been wronged laugh.
Let those whose eyes long for just days stand!
Let the men, women and children of our nations
Be awaken from their breathless sleep
So all looters in high positions will flee
From the wrathful wrist of Anas’ restless tiger eyes.
Categories:
anas, courage,
Form: Didactic
Confusion reigning in my head,
Last night I walked, surrendered bed,
As path led me beside the bay
My soul breathed in the 'milky way.'
Enjoined by magic of it all,
A star-stunned bat, and feeling small,
I saw her then, in paradise,
Embracing Earth with pleasured eyes,
Although the night was very dark,
A tenderness lived in her spark,
A precious gem that would not hide,
Her glow conspired to be my guide,
Cold warmth that came from such a height
Sealed my enchantment with her light,
Alas, at last, awoke the dawn
And my beloved star was gone.
Long Tooth
April 4, 2016
Poet’s Note:
Inspired by Mohammed Anas Affan’s Poem “My Past Night.” He is a student I am advising on PoemHunter.com.
Categories:
anas, life, travel,
Form: Couplet
Hot Air
The name of that wind is Satana
It’s hot and it’s dusty and dry,
Don’t call the wind Santa Ana
In error, for that is a lie.
Saint Ann the mother of Mary
Is remembered in so many ways
But not for a wind that blows from the desert
And makes your skin and eyes craze.
In Nineteen O’ One a reporter
In error rushed his dispatch in
He wrote Santa Ana the rotter,
It is he that committed the sin.
The name is Vientos de Sataná
The wind of the devil that’s hot,
A weather man called it Santana
But that is a name it is not.
So we are left here in confusion,
Raymond Chandler back in ’thirty eight
In “Red Wind” to Santa Anas made allusion
As conditions the local folk hate.
The wind blowing in from the passes,
Curls your hair, makes nerves up tight,
Drying the air and scorching the grasses
And everyone’s edgy all night.
Categories:
anas, education, environment, history, humorous,
Form: Ballade
Peering in the windows,
Of those lives I barely see,
Except when tokens are procured,
For rides, intermittently,
They look at me, I look back,
Nothing severed or taken,
My pith, unimpaired,
And by them, unmistaken,
Do they think that my life,
Should be transformed to theirs,
With foreign exclusions,
And tainted, quaint stares,
Their subtle indifference,
No case dares to appeal,
Embodies the essence,
Of a world they call real,
So they ask with green eyes,
Should I now switch with you,
Would that make my self-worth,
Somehow, progressively true,
I glance, to respond,
That neither is needed,
Because as tolerance failed,
Manipulation succeeded,
We both yearn to validate,
Our courses of being,
Amidst choices of learning,
And preferred ways of seeing,
For now, the windows are closed,
The Santa Anas, they're blowing,
And those lives which premiered,
Have no interest in showing,
We will then pause to wonder,
If the sill might be locked,
Therefore sealed from exposure,
And no chance to be mocked.
(12/30/01)
Categories:
anas, betrayal, crazy, fantasy, how
Form: Rhyme
His words add splendor to all that’s trite
Just like a tender breeze would do to a
Hot, summer night
Just like mountains are embellished
By golden sunlight
And just like an afternoon sky is colored
By a rainbow or a kite
Ammo: (Arabic) Paternal uncle or great-uncle, or ,more generally, a respectful form of
address to any man of an older generation.
Abu: (Arabic) “Father of”
Anas: An Arabic given name
Categories:
anas, dedication
Form: Rhyme