Best Fording Poems

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Like block shaped wheels our lives stumble at the chapters we write
Corners seem dark and teeming with doubt,
alleyways call in echoes of our name,
as if tempting us to crawl when we cannot walk

“Fear begins the parade at our fragile hearts”

Shades are drawn and slotted with...

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A Weight Upon My Shoulders

Sometimes the world feels heavy
Its weight upon my shoulders
As I seek to find some order
And sort things in mental folders.

There are things I know important
Things that shan’t be missed
But it’s hard to remember all
With daily additions to my list.

It’s tiring and...

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rain hitting the asphalt, the cracking concrete, water weaving
its way down the overpass. Residents cover up with plastic,
a conflagration of yellow light on garbage bags
hitting tree tops, branches, leaves old and new. Boughs
sagging with the weight of the world pressing down
hitting the tops of umbrellas,...

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The date of the celebration
(the second day of February) coincides
with medieval feast of Candlemas,
and its pre-Christian predecessor,
Imbolc, a day also rich in folklore.

An old Scottish prophecy foretells
sunny weather on Candlemas
means a long winter.

The tradition is recounted in this poem:
As the light grows longer
The cold grows...

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Groundhog day 2021 - Tuesday, February 2nd

Coincides with astronomy's cross-quarter day,
marking the midpoint between
winter solstice and spring equinox,
which will occur at 5:37 AM on
in Northern Hemisphere
Saturday, March 20.

Small consolation old man winter
spans fewest days
of all four seasons,
especially when massive nor'easter
predicted today January 31st, 2021
including within...

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what was my name? asked the passing wind,
how do i know... humming a song, the wind 
passes the wood hopping and jumping on the path

why am i standing here? asked the drifting cloud,
how do i care... embracing the trees of the mountainside,
the cloud drifts buoyantly...

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Oh What A Christmas Tree

Mistletoes, poinsettias, holly, and pinecones, stimulate their confidences regarding passage,
Tenuous fancied is the Norfolk pine, object facing, particular noble fir, and unique blue spruce trees,
These choice picks are amidst the well-bred evergreen trees variety fulfilling unspecified housed ambiance,
Detonates invariable sanctioned jubilation...

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Sane sexagenarian scribe seeks asylum in Canada...

should Trump swindle electorate by hook or crook,
(1003 days, 9 hours, and
32 minutes until 2024 election),
yours truly steels, girds, braces... himself,
and plots serious outlook
pondering exiting United States
(stage door left)
while streaming media services
bridging, fording, navigating...
modus operandi to brook

potential violent political...

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With winter's pass, reciting nature's spring
forgets relapse, and ventures into bring.
World's garment stretches to enfold and sing,
its song's inhabitants now listening, but to cling.

I cling to thought of Thee, my hope's conspire
as Thee do surfeit self in moment's sire,
still everlasting truth is not for hire,
my...

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when travelling
know where to start from
and you will always arrive on time

we are never going to get
out of this backwater
of self or that
greater planetary Self
on rocket fuel

fording light years requires
a certain stillness

each person
is a facsimile of this world
what is outer is also inner
what is above...

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would conveniently scare bejesus
among any hooligan tween
ready and willing to cause mischief
while prowling for methamphetamine,
or other drug of choice

one motley crew member seen
dodging, evading, fording... police
eventually cornered unlike Steve McQueen
(the late actor), who escapes behind screen
of smoke unscathed unlike

formerly acquitted, alluded mean
and aforementioned hoodlum
who suffers...

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Spirit and sponsor sane sexagenarian scribe (and his spouse) to a Utopian country

He seeks (in tandem with the missus) 
legal asylum in Canada...
New Brunswick, Newfoundland, 
Nova Scotia, et cetera,
or any other socially 
progressive European country,
and seriously ponders said scheme
to exit (stage door left) living social...

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A girl with an earthen jar, (;)
Dim clouds, feels stormy mad.
Long and winding road so far!
Yet arise their crops so glad.

Brisk steps fording a brook,
Skies roar makes quaver voice.
She pass with an eager look,
Now a damsel with a poise!

At the clothesline, there she goes.
Hasty and...

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Painted Rivers
The rivers of this land are painted
By the blood and tears of the people
Whether invaders or fishermen
Swimmers or towns’ folk
It’s always the same no matter what
A cost needs to be paid
Blood will do but so will sweat
When that fails there are tears
For this land...

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