Best Pares Poems
"Otherness, the dichotemy dissected"
The facial surface
stitched tight
photosynthesis pares
celluloid divisions
their inquisition solitary
and thickly wading
shallow and elementary
the dichotomy mercilessly
shaved whittle thin
by others’ strangeness
the primary magnified
in situ perfectly imperfect
petri dissected
through the windows
sunlight slices and shapes
the hidden embedded dark derision
into something
entirely other
encoded with true meaning
The facial surface
stitched tight
photosynthesis pares
celluloid divisions
their inquisition solitary
and thickly wading
shallow and elementary
the dichotomy mercilessly
shaved whittle thin
by others’ strangeness
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
This is a funeral
Why don't you accept
This is a funeral
And this is the death
The candles are burning
The red curtains drawn
The oak casket glittering
Like a pistil of dawn
Nobody knew you
So why's there a wake?
Your work-life undid you
All rigid and fake
Here's how it pares down:
A brief eulogy
A shovel of gravel
And it's all done by three
Then your friends will forget you
By the light of a screen
Full of afternoon football
And unkillable dreams
the poor, the sick, the infirm, the abused
not one, but plenty of them, all over
a vacant sadness on each face, waiting to be enthused
the poor, the sick, the infirm, the abused
wait for a kindness from luckier ones to be rescued
do I care or even stop a second to ponder?
the poor, the sick, the infirm, the abused
not one, but plenty of them, all over
for this question, pares my insides, and I shiver
when I put myself in their place, and imagine
the pain, the angst, the helplessness, of the sufferer
for this question, pares my insides, and I shiver
with all my humbleness, I utter a prayer
and promise that this question I will reexamine
for this question, pares my insides, and I shiver
when I put myself in their place, and imagine
I want to pass the loving word for them needy souls
for they can smile and feel in life belonged
like I do with my family that fills my bowls
I want to pass the loving word for them needy souls
so they can hear the singing bird that extols
and let them live a dream they may have longed
I want to pass the loving word for them needy souls
for they can smile and feel in life belonged
if you also are tormented by this question
and an urge to see more smiles around you
then let us join hands, it is my suggestion
together we can better reduce man’s regression
if you also are tormented by this question
answer to which is now clearly overdue
if you also are tormented by this question
and an urge to see more smiles around you
Peers
Eye remember the last time eye respected and emulated mye peers they peered all over
mee. While eye jumped from piers with pears and pares the toenails from the edifice of hice
bewails while jumping pairs of twice brickled edifice pickled in the briny sea side limping on
both feet after fourteen miles a day of hiking where the sun is shade. Eye have a memory
that seldom comes but sometimes when annoyed eye remember getting mad at mye new
friend eye made while travelling. We were sitting in the overpass of freeways looking glasses
turned down to drain the light of flashes. Eye took mye flashlight to the concrete underpass
and smashed it. My friend was asking what was wrong with me so eye had to get creative
quickly. Not wanting to dismember him eye quickly said this was done at your behest not
understanding none of this he sighed and walked away to live another day that’s best. For
eye was only wanting solitude and rest. He got drunks and sold the knives. Drunkards
wanting tankards full furnish many people with foolish things for below cost no advertising
word of mouth just hand to hand attained detachments. They sell cars at second hand prices
and deter the will to live. Telling old defeated Granny she must drive like a snail to get there
and she will. Adding multiples of two and coming to conclusions of one more addled brain a
female peers out her window now hoping he is still in love he must not understand the
female mind. Tonite when eye am dead to world in vain misunderstanding of mye namme
eye will peers from undercovers trying not to cry tomorrow eye will greet that dawn with
happiness in time.
No Primus Inter Pares
Germans at the Costa Brava they just cannot yield
‘Brava’ the fight and they are conquering once more
Always the first on the beach or the striped deck chair but
The towel goes right up front and then they have breakfast
They claim their place in the sun and colonize the pool
I’m not a racist am German myself light skinned at dawn
Prejudice Discrimination Stereotype or double innocent vision
When too much sun meets a squinting eye of any beholder
Ready with parasol and sombrero and not enough lotion
To make sure I blend colourfully in and pretend I am native
Ingenious maybe but indigenous nowhere near but at my home
Not first under equals just one of the travelling circus’ crowd
I stake my claim forget all about physics in diabolical parable
Parabolic distant same old points and lines but when will I learn
That the sun scorches at high noon whatever I attempt
That horizons only widen when travelling in much truer fashion
Far and further afield immersion in less indifferent ventures
Brings me closer to peace to my own roots unburdens my search
I’ve seen the Taj Mahal under a midnight moon shadow absorbed
The Grand Canyon looked for precious Yellow Stone wisdom
Pyramids at Giza tear gas at Tahrir Square caves in Cappadocia
Never setting sun in Rovaniemi Omaha Beach and trenches in Belgium
I took local busses towards nowhere with no imminent return
No plan no target no defined ambition not steps merely ticked
Call me a voyeur in slums townships or favelas a frotteur with no towel
But I was made welcome once I shed my emperor’s colonial clothes
My luxury problems became smaller when I returned to the start
The gifts of the present the past and my very privileged future
One way or another I cannot and need not shed European origin
But my Universe has become less ignorant and a bit more unsure
23th July 2018
two, blithe, carefree hearts
spring chickens flung from the
coop
surface tension pares
Canadian geese
black cheeked... brown... white tipped feathers
stormy ocean waves
barnacle geese
hibernate as barnacles
for some... once a thought
starlings murmurate
whispers of countless wings
safty in numbers
hark a bittern booms
invites new life to explode
sedges obliging
quack... quack... quack quack... quack...
mallard ducks enjoying life
frustrated angler
coconut... blue tit
symbiotic winter pairs
autumn time... fresh pares
a bee... wasp mimics
flower flies... a hummingbird
natures macro bling
ostriches... big birds
they'll disappear if threatened
M of P mimics
.
our naked feet feel the grass
and our naked legs feel the
flowers
and the pretty weeds
our naked hands feel the pares
and the apples
the grapes
and the rain
our naked faces kiss
and our naked bodies
love each other
until the naked moon meets
the flaming constellations
Dark settles on the walls. The
street lamp blinks some light,
then dies, then blinks again. A
moth- stuck inside the room-
pares its wings on the glass,
falls to the windowsill,
then does it again. My eyelids
do the same.
I remember his mouth; how the
ghosts under his tongue
slid through the cracks of his
teeth, found mine, stayed there.
And the birds at the backs of
our eyes drank too much to
leave.
He told me there's a life of
everything, somewhere else;
one that isn't made of feathers
or concrete.
I'd be the flayed moth that made
it through the glass,
He, the sun, and my guts would
be warmed under him.
Standing tall and proud as Punch, Albert, my Suffolk, softens to receive his collar.
I lift the hames across his back,
throw over pad and traces, belts and chains,
while he stands like a scholar.
He has a generosity of spirit that shames me, his human confederate.
I buckle up the straps
and clip the breast and belly rigs,
as in my way inveterate.
Albert accepts my preparations to enslave him in horse drawn servitude without complaint. Standing ready, he paws the ground
in keen anticipation of the work ahead,
like some equine saint.
The bridle's next with cold hard bit,
yet with lowered head and open mouth he bends in submission. He's ready now to do my bidding, to oblige me with his power, nobly to go about his tasks,
without thought of opposition.
Our partnership builds daily,
like the shy appreciation of coy lovers, growing but barely.
His very compliance demands of me
an unconscious duty to use him fairly.
To trust his judgement, as he does mine,
to work as Primus Inter Pares, not overlord. I am certain always was this the bond,
even when man sat horse in armour,
and with a heavy sword.
My sword, put up these four years now, is into a ploughshare turned.
My harness is put away,
a peaceful, simple, and tranquil life re-learned.
Election…
…again
The masses are called to the public square
Pilots post candidates
Pundits peal their parlance
The public primarily pares them to Barabbas and Truth.
Barabbas wins again,
Promises to slash and burn, cut everyone to size
Make things great again!
Truth whiplashed, double crossed and crossed off hangs in the breeze of Golgotha,
Sighing seven sorrowful seeds of salvation.
Should they ever sprout again,
Hope’s everlasting grandeur awaits…
…again
The elect.
©Gerardo Perrotta
3-15-2016
The specialty chef he sure kindles knives.
He flips all the shrimp and shreds the chives.
The blaze from the heat
cuts all from their seats.
The customers split as he s-pares their lives.
1/3/2019
Joseph May’s Limerick Contest
A touching sip
Glimpses now grip
A Woodlands trip
Old times come round
Feel the same grounds
Old touch new found
A train ride tells
Styles a fond spell
Just where you dwell
A new blank page
Ideas now stage
A lovely age
Studio suite arts
A brand new start
To lift your heart
Words tell we care
Squeeze cheer that pares
Warm happy fare
Once again here
We meet new spheres
To purge limp fear
In a glimpse fond
View the new pond
Joy in old bonds
Fond chat finds zest
Old friends know best
Humour wit's fest
Old Admiralty
That north country
Craft of fancy
Just for a while
Good times now style
Fond cheery smiles
Fond memory
Breeds chemistry
Kind happy spree
Cheer finds the way
To bloom each day
Watch joy portray
Leon Enriquez
12 October 2017
Singapore
Removing the 'u' from 'Aussie' pares its chassis down to a 'chassie' ...
E Agora é setembro:
Há muito por fazer!
E Agora é setembro;
Eu quero lembrar:
Todo o tempo no mundo
Do nascer do dia
Ao por do sol
Dentre todos os dias,
nenhum foi o primeiro.
Foram precisos
Todas os dias
Para que um dia
as nossas mãos se unissem.
E agora,
há de vir um setembro
Da liberdade,
do amadurecimento do espírito e do amor ao próximo.
E Agora é setembro:
Há-de vir que o melhor de vós – de nós - seja para o nossos clientes – nosso pares,
nossa pessoas amigas.
Chegou o setembro
de portas
abertas para o sucesso profissional
a valorização de muitas pessoas.
Chegou o setembro
de portas
em que se vejam
à mesa todos os lugares completos!
Chegou o setembro
de criar, inovar e encantar!
Chegou o setembro
de portas!