He wo motto took a shield for the bettering of
Boy bubble kev
Upper right flange damage severe ordinance requirement of lifeline preserve cartography blissed out
Gregory Hines session energetic time card!
lasting beauty is the fervent , blue pebble
like the feathery greenery.
A New Planet
For me, it is too late.
But had I been young, I would
Have done my utmost to find another planet
Livable for humans.
Think of it as a planet without borders
Not carved up into countries and rivalries
And threats from states with big land.
Just one continent where anyone could travel
Where they wanted no passport controls
Or unsightly walls.
A planet without religion to upset the peace
And of course, no political parties
No rules set by the mighty, the authority
Who diverts rivers without asking the people?
In short, a planet for the people and
Animals in the wilderness.
Alas, since humans are settlers.
They will take their flaws along
and in time screw it up
The rain in Spain is never plain --
not there nor anywhere else, each
drop a stork of rosy rebirth.
Streaming like the rain outside
The windscreen wipers working like
My heart and chopping onions stuff
A testament to will the good of another
The kids are in the back and can't see what's going on
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling in the driving seat
I think of my wife and when we first met
She was always running late
As I was shoegazing on the corner
I needed a parrot sidekick
High on Belgian waffles and coffee
A hip new sensibility
The dash cam records the journey
Join me on my magic carpet
Grant me three wishes
Give me some tassel
In the Maghreb
I'll be your magic lamp
In order to reveal myself
Let's pick out curtains
Sudden rain
will there be
a rainbow?
Patches of
bright blue sky
peep through clouds
Raindrops cease
petrichor
scent rises
Pots & Pans
We see on the net a dust bowl of horror called Gaza
people with remarkable pots and pans begging for
food around an open kitchen; the thought is, do they
keep the poets and pans so clean, do they take turns
licking clean any vestige of nourishment of the said
utensils, which tells me there is a Palestine under
the ruins and there will always be a Palestine, if not
Today, but tomorrow it will be the day the flag will
hang from every ruin, free of Israel's hatred, and
endemic caused by the malicious influence of the USA
From the time America was influenced by the people
of the Old Testament
It was nine degrees outside in April
In the chill of a dreary April day,
I find myself wandering through the dimness,
My eyes were straining in the absence of light.
As I approach the door, a sense of familiarity washes over me, pulling me back to a time of comfort and solace.
The thought of retreating to the inviting embrace of my warm bed beckons me like a gentle siren, contrasting sharply with the biting cold that surrounds me.
In this moment, I realize that in this vast expanse of uncertainty, there is only one clear path to follow—one that leads back to the refuge of my blankets and dreams.
Not a Democrat
Is democracy good for individual freedom
a year when spring sprang early
he bought horse and cart and made a living
moving people's rubbish to the town's pit
He was not a man working from 9 to 5 in
a factory where underpaid workers slaved
putting macaroni in tomato sauce, into a tin
he had many children, but was not a pater
Familia, the children grew up with varied
success, some failed while others thrived
Besides, he liked gardening, in the poor
A section of the town people came to see his
display the beautiful flowers
In the night, people came picked the bloom
to give color to their meagre homes, that
It was what he had wanted
He lived a long life, and his wife loved him dearly
No, he was not a democrat
Café tables on terrasse drenched in rain ~
everyone’s indoor as if on hold
waiting impatiently for the sun to come out.
April showers bring may flowers
but we aren't happy to pay the price ~
meanwhile the rain stubbornly won't let up.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Nazi time
Uniformed men with ice blue eyes, marched
Up and down the street, bomb fell, earth shock
And I was two years old
An officer with steel rimmed glasses and a cruel
Smile, said: this child is blond and has blue eyes
I clicked my heel, sucked my thumb
Mother, took to singing sentimental lieders
They gave her an iron cross, while dreamed
The kindergarten’s infant Fuhrer
To my regret, peace broke out and life was
Lull again, till I was circumcised and went
To live in Haifa, where I could pee over a new
Wall, which made me a natural leader of men.
after ‘The waste Land’, by T.S. Eliot
I met a woman on a glitching screen,
her face a whisk of pixels and prayer.
She spoke of shattered systems and survived code,
“The cloud remembers everything,” she said, "but forgets what matters.”
A rat hurried through my feed at dawn,
past memes and headlines, each a kind of omen.
I tried to fast-forward spring,
but April clawed through my notifications anyway.
In a thread of ghost towns and tagged regret,
I noticed a cafe with no floor, only static,
A man sipped Espresso beside a socket,
charging his distress while waiting for replies.
Data rains in blasts, all prediction and pop-ups.
The Sun sets in Beta,
and we refresh the silence,
hoping for something new to load.
For then, below algorithms and ash,
a bud breaks code in cracked concrete,
muted, untagged,
but blooming still.
april
cold thunderstorms
beginning of flowers
fertile festive fey like feeling
april
violets peeking up their gentle heads
delighting the spongy moss
april is beginning
April knows best what parting means,
With the winter frost melting as seeds begin to sprout.
We talked and laughed each day,
And walked in her cool, forgiving breeze
We’d run out when it would rain,
Stomping in puddles with bright red boots,
No care in the world,
For what tomorrow might hold.
Now I watch, with tear-struck eyes
As you go around saying your last goodbyes
Your off on a new adventure
While our memories play a soft, sweet tune only we hear.
One that slowly begins to fade
Its volume rising only when it rains
As a reminder that
You don’t have to be near me
To feel the love you will always have from me.
Specific Types of April Poems
Definition | What is April in Poetry?