Best Song Red Poems
with a crescent palm
held against his lips,
he sends a silver psalm
into the wind-
the timbre, so frail
sails through a crimson sky
then falls into the valley
a valley so low---
"hear the wind whisper,
hear the wind blow...
down through the valley,
where it must go"....
upward it goes
on a smooth silver thread
till the thin-quaver ends
where the red river flows
___________________________________
6/25/17 (Based on the song "Red River Valley")
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake : Part Thirty-Five
Chief of Staff commandeered the Lake Restaurant and Sailing Club
Setting up mass long-term cuisine facilities for Robo-Cop
Turned Swimming Pool amenities into canteen facilities
Took over the now vacant Lycée class-rooms as rest-room club
As someone said within ear-shot: “He has bouclé la boucle!”
Added Galapago Rani: “He sure runs a tight ship schedule!”
Chief Executive called him up: “I can come for seven hours.”
“Sir, best to stay put: Never know what’s between now and next poll!”
The drones and sound-barrier blasts of fighter plane practice runs
Have died down in the distant swan-song red-eyed horizons
And Maghreb prayer for the Faithful was drawing to a close
When the now less-than boom-voiced Commandant edged by entrances
Seeking to confront the Holy Mullah with the Writ’s purpose
Black-beaked Bernache geese stretched sleek clarinet necks to hoot opus:
The Lake’s sacred even-song anthem bidding one and all adieu
As the wintered Sun still majestic drew woollen curtain cloak close
CS ordered check-points to be set up at short intervals
In the Robo-Cop five-strong ring round the Mosque’s exit portals
Lest the “Miscreant Poet” sneak out in chador black by night:
Dainty Robo-Cops were rushed in to frisk chador-clad mortals!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
A man walks by in a gray polyester suit
He tells another man to call him Juice
The other man in bright orange hunter's clothes, he looks bold and brash
He tells Juice to call him Cold Hard Cash
They sit at the bus bench to discuss a new business they want to start
It all begins tomorrow around the corner at the local trailer park
Cold Hard Cash tells Juice, this is my last 500 bucks, but what the heck
It all started when the Master Pimp met with the Ultimate Red Neck
Cold Hard Cash tells Juice, follow me, I will give you the grand tour
Starting at my trailer on lot number four
As they enter Cold Hard Cash's place, it smells like rotting potatoes
Juice enters and slips on some cherry tomatoes
Cold Hard Cash says here and hands Juice a plate of sauerkraut and dogs
He tells Juice, if you stick around for supper, I will roast us some frogs
Juice asks Cold Hard Cash, after we eat, can I be given the golden key to the
park
Cold Hard Cash, says let's go next door we will begin at Judy Starks
Juice goes with Cold Hard Cash to interview their first employee in their line of
money makers
After the interview, Judy says yes, Juice comments, she's a real shaker
At the next interview, the girl shows them why her picture used to be on Breck
This all transpired when the Pimp Master hooked up with the Ultimate Red Neck
Juice says we need one more so we can rotate them around the clock
We will put them to work outside the laundry mat and liquor store, which are on
the same block
Cold Hard Cash asks what if one calls in sick
Juice answers in a business voice, then one of the others will pull a double shift
Juice points and asks what about this place
Cold Hard Cash says you don't want to see her face to face
Cold Hard Cash says she's the one they used to design Shrek
Good luck with your business, Master Pimp and the Ultimate Red Neck
A gentle knight chirped and roaming the way of desert at night.
His dancy browny hair, blue eyes made romantic guy and couraged.
He lured by lovely song beyond a hill.
Eagerly, he rushed his horse and fell swooned.
He lightly opened his eyes but did not movable, groaning pains.
His wounds tide with herb and bluey fungus.
A spinster, an oldman lived in this hut sitting anxious looking.
The nature of love girl sing a praying song under a coniferous.
He falls asleep and his wounds healing miracle by love.
He said many gratitude thanks and parting smiles.
The spinster missed her heart and possess a minute death.
She weaving her heart gifted garland to him with splendid love-smells.
The nightjar song impressed his love seek, find to fail.
The red war period started, as his melancholy love.
He stabed not but earning many love wounds.
His inner voice of love but fluttering dove!
He became love-sicker and also think about the bewitching voice.
Again he searched, his red wounds badly hurt.
His instinct wishes that met her love-face lastly.
He brings only thorny's love-blood at shadow night.
Dews fluttering with his worthy red-blood gently to the heaven.
He is rescued by the same spinster his heart-venus.
She takes a letter and his pleasant love-subject written with golden tunes.
Her tears of love tinkling on, the love-wounds bleeding with joyous!
She feeds him on the love's last breath of lyric but sad love-melody chill.
The worthy fairest carved immortalized their love-chapter.
If you smelled the monumental garland it described the unbelievable love-tale.
The love-origin pastoral surrounded with red grasses one touch it
amazingly love-sicker!
To Kerstin from Sweden
1.
Somewhere, in Sweden
there is a little red house
and field around it.
There are kind horses,
who look sorrowfully
at their dear Kerstin,
who lives in this little red house
Somewhere in Sweden.
Kettle song red strong
Silver spoon honey dripping
Sip morning green tea