Best Routed Poems
Deceptive, drowsy,
the gray cat, Tempus, in doldrums
lazes, purring, stretching.
I have watched him:
cunning eyes half-closed,
he stalks bright birds near day lilies.
Wings wet from flights
through sprinklers' sweeps,
birds swoop, glide, flutter.
They light on dry grass,
strut and shake themselves,
are lulled. Then, Tempus
pounces on one bird.
The rest are routed…
And Tempus fugit.
Technology is changing day by day,
the benefits? enormous, one might say,
is miniaturization a price too high to pay?
not necessarily the smart and prudent way.
Gemstones aren't what they're purported to be,
take that cuff link, a microprocessor,
what used to take acres and acres of space
now resides on the top of his dresser.
Tie clips and navel rings, earrings with studs
contain microchips too small to see,
snapshots are routed to secret computers,
surveillance directed at you and at me.
As fate would have it, I have diminished,
a 6 footer, now 2ft 4inches,
soon I'll be able to date a REAL bird
and cavort with the crows and the finches.
It must be my penance, I spoke out of turn
and maligned the creator, the hedonist,
who pleasures the masses with tablets and iPods,
and removed me from his Merry Christmas list.
Small is as small does so I gravitate,
and follow these micro-bit players,
I am so tiny, can't hardly be seen,
as black widows become midget-slayers.
Consigned to my basement I look for a way
to escape my arachnoid aggressors,
I squeeze through a slit in the mesh at my window
and plead, as with all good confessors.
Out in my garden I stare at the stars,
just a speck in the depths of the universe,
I fall to my knees to be nothing at all,
prey to microchip madness, a terrible curse
or our endless salvation?
Diamonds are a dangerous commodity.
Topaz brickettes pave lost roads
for the unfortunate paths
of bewildered Dorothy's
(and misguided second-removed cousins).
The birthday cards
I send myself,
are never returned to sender;
they're forwarded to you.
Rubies are ominous and a crucial burden.
Red. A vibrant statement.
Look at me! I'm red!
Quite a pathetic gemstone.
(Dorothy - you need to re-dye your slippers).
The birthday cards you've sent me
are now forwarded back to you.
Diamonds and rubies
are dangerous commodities.
Quartz tickles my fancy.
Limestone abandons my will.
Emeralds? I visted that city; once.
The PO Box for my re-routed
birthday cards are registered there.
My second-removed cousin
tiles his palacial floors with them.
Diamonds, rubies and emeralds are
dangerous commodities.
Sapphires are worthless crackerjacks.
Amethyst is a word that
(half the population of Idaho can't spell).
A Rock of Gibraltar. The man you needed.
The dupe you wanted.
The patsy who refrains from
visiting your morosed petting zoos.
The gemstone you suckle?
Who is it?
No!
I'm not your diamond;
sweetheart.
Hardly, am I your ruby;
cupcake.
Perchance, an emerald?
Doubtful!
Quartz, limestone...a sapphire?
You orchestrate personal deaths
upon the metallic
bands around your rhenoid fingers.
A gemstone I'm not a part of.
Being there -
I was the part of your life
that was accidentally flung over
rusty-coat hangers
stuffed in moth-ridden closets.
I was the gemstone
that never glossed
your fancy fingers.
Diamonds?
Emeralds?
Rubies?
Sapphires?
Quartz?
Limestone?
No...pumice;
my love.
Understand, pumice doesn't sink!
I'll pop back into mischievious
blackened-hearts anytime I please -
and you will welcome me for
a sincerity that warrrants no appraisals.
However,
my utmost truisms sparkle
decadent- bright
like diamonds -
a dangerous and rare
commodity.
.
adventure, imagination, nature, places, travel
Trillium’s Three! ©
Three bright white petals
Three large green rounded leaves
Three ‘blasts’ the trillium white star
Points them close look-see!
ALONG WINDING ROADS! ©
A long winding road
Night opens two white bright strips
One going one way
Another down its’ other way
Around black routed highways!
Smog and blackouts led to an off-track sleigh,
‘til Rudolph’s red nose could not save the day.
Santa refused to show stress,
So he used his G-P-S*
To get Christmas Eve trek back on its way!
The Zerg are vanquished;
The Protoss have been routed.
Death's Avatar wins!
It is said "beauty is in the eye of the beholder"
It's all in how we see life itself
and what we indeed take from it too
Our relation to time - being and existence
Food to the metaphysical heart - Love
Truth to the mind - bringing peace
physical and emotional fulfilment
When the soul is nourished
we are in better place
to face the choices and decisions
facing us each day
Thoughts are momentary
but any feeling
is accompanied with repeated thought patterns
meaning they stay deep routed
within us for longer periods
Silence and reflection can help us to focus
making positive decisions for good
causing ourselves a lesser pain
Spiritual sustenance
that is empowering to the inner self
repugnant racist republican reviled - rickettsia re:itch ruler.
rapaciously ravaged revered reverential rubric.
radical ruthless renegade rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts.
refrains retaining remnant redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights.
ruckus ricochets revenant reign.
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick; render ruinous ramifications.
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.
rabid rectal rictus rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod routing reigning royalty.
reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality.
ride Rolls Royce relentlessly rendering rock ribbing.
riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response.
revisit rancorous restrictive redlined realigned rightward rivets.
robocop ridiculously rubber-stamped reorganization.
recalcitrant reactors release rapture.
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance raconteurs rack rubles.
red room reflects republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory.
rapier robed robbers ransack reliquary resounding retaliation.
retaliatory redcoat regnum reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered rifled relics raffled.
rookie raves ripe rackful rubenesque reliably ranked.
refulgent rotundity requisite requirement re: reappointment.
road-tested, roadworthy redeem reapportion routed role.
reprehensible reassignment rapidly recognizes response.
rife rampage removes respectability - respect.
responsible roused restitution refuted.
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway railroad reverberates rivalry.
reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization.
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
requisition requires resilient reseeding republic.
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
rare recount restoring recondite renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives rejoice reclaiming reins
registering retarded romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!
The wood misunderstood the knife, the ax, the scythe
though for centuries it had sheltered man and should not
have misunderstood man's intent.
Wind chimes sublime mime melodies wordless tones
without rhyme noting not the passing of time.
The endless sky buoys the trees leaves on coy up drafts,
wafting orange, gold and green to the cheeks of cumulus white,
enjoying the dichotomy between soft and hard.
Thermal columns deploy destroyed bits of bough.
Seeds of all kinds entwine, caress, combine, they're of one mind;
they procreate by design, wind borne to other climes.
And so, the firmament complies for known reasons
not to be undone each season, each tree, a beason from on high
reseeding forests from the ax's treason; gifting the breath
on which all life relies.
Maple, oak, ash, pine, spruce and even palm, their numbers
whittled by man's metal, leaving homeless little creatures
trapped between man in the middle of a serious decline.
Even man's life is belittled for greed rules.
The smaller things those on wings are routed out on
wind and tide. Burnt sprouts crisp without, caused by drought
there's little doubt about their demise.
The beauty of a bumble bee, a ladybug, a seed blown on
an autumn breeze, they matter. The natural world man's torn
and tattered leaving empty nights without the chatter of the frog
and cicada. The owls they've scattered, their prey feed on poisonous scree.
Soon only waves of mindless prater will fill the wind come from the sea.
Forewarned by Prime now's the time to shift our focus to what's sublime
labeling pollution as a crime. Let man heal the clime
repay his greed with natures green.
So disengage decrease your horde, live a simpler life, be sage.
The earth breathes, in wood, wind, water, and metal now fire
burns the stage, the elements are God's gauge.
Damp this all to human rage.
would
could
should
misunderstood
wood
sublime
rhyme
chime
mime
time
enjoy
coy
buoy
deploy
destroy
entwine
kind
line
climes
mind
reason
season
treason
beason
undone
metal
little
belittle
riddle
middle
out
doubt
routed
sprout
drought
shatter
prater
matter
tatter
chatter
sublime
climb
time
crime
prime
gauge
sage
stage
disengage
rage
*** At Age Seventeen ***
At 17, the wooden heels of my boots echoed
My audacious immaturity along my entire way
exploring
Manhattan’s south-end area. Its long blocks, I routed
For the reason of simply seeing.
In the route I took through that then unknown section,
My young lack of any preparation was foolishly profound,
Although during all that afternoon, I passed only huge,
Blackened windows; met only vacant streets, endless concrete.
Except for the resounding echoes of my clop-clopping
Heels going on, on, so starkly conspicuous; my pacing
Possibly — dangerous — sourrounded by mal-intents;
hearing no sirens, no horns…Just the ominous sounds
Of my own very isolating heels strikind the ground
in an otherwise quiet, misplaced in any city’s midst.
My mother had often told me, “There’s safety in numbers.”
I heard myself grumbling, “Nothing! So empty
here in a city of millions!”
In the face of that strange, puzzling reality,
I felt lost and uneasy, so that those few hours yet remain
— more than fifty years later — vividly
In memory, often repeating, leaping up to recount for me
some lessons of faith and humility.
The loss of all sense of place in the face
Of the echoes and the fear, and, too, the hidden,
extraordinary city’s separated, absent populace…so used
In the long-lasting lesson my conscience speaks patiently,
“Poor girl. Give thanks! You went so far only
Due to God’s always interceeding way embracing you.”
-—————————————————————————————————————————
(c) 1/30/23 sally young eslinger
Thanks be to God…
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY: LXXVIII
for Suzanne DELANEY, in appreciation
(Prelude: CAN THE WRONG MAN BE RIGHT ? ABSOLUTELY !
If only he were NOT guilty of the self-same crime !
For instance, here in Europe, acceding to « nationality»
status can be quite ludicrously irrational: those migrants
even "totally ignorant" of the host country’s culture
and official tongue obtain their "citizenship papers »
sooner or later, while clinging desperately to their
own culture and country to the exclusion of their hosts’- some more fortunatethough enjoy « dual nationality » and therefore DUAL rights to LOYALTY ! And talk tough once they take over responsibile positions in society. And the
ones on whom the latter prey most of all are precisely
those « other» less fortunate migrants at their mercy !)
IF ever I had a country, a country NOT « wholly" put together by
either IMMIGRANTS or REFUGEES, you see, but by conquering
IMPERIAL ENSLAVERS on the backs of blacks and
on those fleeing from hunger, from religious
intolerance as "indentured-labourers », mainly, you’ll agree
WHERE the indigene was routed and rounded up into
RESERVES through superior "fire-power" by the
COLONIAL and local ARISTOCRACY
AND where TAXES and LEVIES imposed by the « Foreign Power »
drove the locally-born MASTER to revolt against the MOTHER
COUNTRY
Until the whole CONTINENT united « nation » after « nation »
to become the foremost mid-twentieth century « COLONIAL »
SAVIOUR of the WORLD country
Only to find its internal structure and economic power usurped
by other NON-NATION constituting ethnies
AND one-by-one take over from the original WASP founding PATER
FAMILIAS confederacy
Yes, then, I’d keep the NEW-COMER from wagging his/her tongue or
shooting his/her mouth tout azimuth - despite the legislative mandate -
as though he/she were the backbone of the nation or from attempting to
take over my « dear » country as if it were their « god-given » patrimony
Even if I never ever had no country stuck together with spit and elbow-grease to look like a pyrotechnically-powere Bollywoodian jamboree
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, July 22, 2019
Technology is changing day by day,
the benefits? enormous, one might say,
is miniaturization a price too high to pay?
not necessarily the smart and prudent way.
Gemstones aren't what they're purported to be,
take that cuff link, a microprocessor,
what used to take acres and acres of space
now resides on the top of his dresser.
Tie clips and navel rings, earrings with studs
contain microchips too small to see,
snapshots are routed to secret computers,
surveillance directed at you and at me.
As fate would have it, I have diminished,
a 6 footer, now 2ft 4inches,
soon I'll be able to date a REAL 'bird'
and cavort with the crows and the finches!
It must be my penance, I spoke out of turn
and maligned the creator, the hedonist,
who pleasures the masses with tablets and iPods,
and removed me from his Merry Christmas list.
Small is as small does so I gravitate,
and follow these micro-bit players,
I am so tiny, can hardly be seen,
as black widows become midget-slayers.
Confined to my basement I look for a way
to escape my arachnoid aggressors,
I squeeze through a slit in the mesh at my window
and plead, as with all good confessors.
Out in my garden I stare at the stars,
just a minuscule speck in the firmament,
and wonder how I might reverse my misfortune,
not suffer the lot of the helpless and spent.
It's much too late now to redress my transgressions,
so I must make do with my life as it stands,
and hope when I shrink 'til no vestige is left of me
He will be present to welcome me home.
Technology is changing day by day,
the benefits? enormous, one might say,
is miniaturization a price too high to pay?
not necessarily the smart and prudent way.
Gemstones aren't what they're purported to be,
take that cuff link, a microprocessor,
what used to take acres and acres of space
now resides on the top of his dresser.
Tie clips and navel rings, earrings with studs
contain microchips too small to see,
snapshots are routed to secret computers,
surveillance directed at you and at me.
As fate would have it, I have diminished,
a 6 footer, now 2ft 4inches,
soon I'll be able to date a REAL bird
and cavort with the crows and the finches.
It must be my penance, I spoke out of turn
and maligned the creator, the hedonist,
who pleasures the masses with tablets and iPods,
and removed me from his Merry Christmas list.
Small is as small does so I gravitate,
and follow these micro-bit players,
I am so tiny, I'm so hard to see
as black widows become midget-slayers.
Consigned to my basement I look for a way
to escape my arachnoid aggressors,
I squeeze through a slit in the mesh at my window
and plead, as with all good confessors.
Out in my garden I stare at the stars,
just a speck in the breadth of the universe,
I fall on my knees and I pray to the Lord,
could my destiny alter, and spin in reverse.
Naked
Unarmed I stood against the beast
Defending what was mine
The theft of my guileless innocence
His most cruel, remorseless crime
Fighting slings and arrows
Words that cut me to the quick
Lifting thin arms in resistance
To his heavy, brutish fists
Sorrow comes in darkness
Arrives without an invite
The moon stares dully at me
No magic will save me tonight
Measured unforgiving blows
He chose where each would land
Dark purple bruises gave away
Where my body had been slammed
With my knack for weak excuses
“I tripped and fell down again”
He sneered that they’re “just love taps”
While I played a game called ‘pretend’
Naked in my bed
Protecting a child yet unborn
Came another beating
From this cur who’d earned my scorn
What cannot be seen in shadows
Can suffocate one’s will
When I reclaimed my spirit
I crawled out of the mouth of hell
Ages have come to pass since then
The fiend at last routed from my life
I’m no longer frightened
Of just being someone’s wife
How would you react when you knew you don't fit in. When who you are is looked down upon as a sin. I am an outcast i feel it seep through my veins. You forget im used to your words i have the stains. Nothing you say is new to me. I've heard it all before don't you see? I can not change contraire to your your belief. Its not a choice there is no relief. Accept me or don't it wont make a difference in my world. People like me are used to your words daily they are hurled. The only ones with the problem are the ones stuck in contradiction. Freedom is mine by choice of acceptance not by wars against your religion. We are not the fighters with words routed in hate. We do not condemn & pressure for his names sake. Your attacks are justified by concern & so called love for those you hurt. Maybe wed be a little closer if your ways were not so perverse. You talk about being gay like its a sickness waiting for a cure. We are not ill, we're human with vision different from yours. You could never relate to the pain plagued in our hearts. You don't face the condemnation, you wouldn't know where to start. We believe in things your minds are to closed to conceive. If it weren't for our strength we'd be just like you, breaking the broken due to our belief. Never have we forced our ways on you to be like us just so you knew. Locked up, rapped & abused, hit with a bible or two. There is no difference between homophobic activists and speakers. They leave the same scars the severity just differs. So before you point at us with judgment and disgrace. Look in the mirror, picture how we see you. Are you content with your face? Can you rest your head peacefully while we bite back our tears? Knowing your kind is the reason we have fears? Don't worry we wont become as heartless as you. We prefer our freedom & love to be gained by truth not by guilt and a life or two.....