Best Progeny Poems

we ...
are strands ...
they, a strumming, resonant -
notes of an ambrosial
strain that tickles the tympans of
life and enlightenment ...
they are thistle on the breath of...

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 Her smiles of valor encase her agony--
   her fiery scars pound against her sanity
    struggling in twisted ropes of...

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I wait—

here I wait
for white magic reverie
to embrace me   free me

here I wait—
an hourglass full
of leopard-print thoughts 
sugar-granular-musings spill
the beginning to the end...

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Say not to me,
that it will not matter a hundred years from now,
that I was here.
For surely I have touched one life in a positive...

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Green - I have seen you somewhere within my evergreen soul
Where the Omniscient plays his flute
To rejuvenate the tired ones - scattered by the humdrum...

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oh youth in all its callow shades
               is from our hope,...

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At the appointed time (you know not when)
your spirit will kiss this world goodbye.
Sands of your earthly time will then
have run their course. Folks will...

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*”If music be the food of love, play on.”
Play hard, but with a sweet guitar, play softly too.
Each note you play, I’ll sing along with...

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I am the progeny
Of lightning and stitch,
A Franken-hybrid
Of genius and glitch.

My circuits buzz with
Einsteinian thought,
Unraveling secrets
The universe has wrought.

Existence, I ponder,
Through photon and quark,
Grappling with...

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Someday I'd like to wander free
like butterfly, like bumblebee,
perhaps to plant a willow tree
beside the silent solemn sea,

before these things exist no more,
from mountain top...

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I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,
I have heard the tales of horror, from my dark skinned foes.
I have heard...

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The photo is of Brennan, my three and a half year old grandson. He's fully focused on everything he does ~ sports, art, Pixar cars...and...

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"Be like a flower ... gentle, quiet and humble."
                ...

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    Hug the sun as if it were your progeny.
    Be filled with joy that you...

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Here I stand before hundreds of moss grown graves
There is a mournful silence that extends
Through the weed grown path, no traveller walks
The place, some morbid...

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