Best Uno Poems
enjoy the reed
now displayed as a satisfactory deed.
* * * * * *
A Senior Moment - written months ago commemorating
the graduation from a vaunted charter school
in Bend, Oregon of thy lovely youngest,
this papa could not attend -
geographical distance constituting the primary determinant.
* * * * * *
Valedictorian treads across makeshift platform
i.e. most likely auditorium stage marked
by hushed audience inhaling, notating,
and regaling gleeful lightness of buoyant feat
(but me Yeats heavy of heart) feted for 2017 Redmond
Enrichment Academy graduates, who attained,
a milestone vis a vis earning their
high school diploma, and ready to launch
bountiful daunting challenges, yet sure
footed each young gal and/or guy
will exude joy and sorrow upon grasping their
high school diploma aware a sound education
sent each on their own future path
while pomp and circumstances issues forth
by adroit musically talented underclass
* * * * * *
man, which emotional celebrated achievement
evoked by keynote student speaker,
but also underscored via that well worn mortar
board, linkedin, kickstarter, Joyus
tune (composed by Sir Edward Elgar –
subtitled March Number 1) acknowledging
cheers, eliciting grownups immense Kleenex
moistening overpowering quintessentially
simmering ululating wrenching yowling
as tassels flipped (maybe in conjunction with
a non twittering uber bird) to the left side
of the caparisoned newly anointed future
Dharma Bums, professionals and/or trades
persons momentarily stung with sadness
to depart favorite classmates and teachers
who voluntarily cosseted, ferried, and
* * * * * *
capitalone did flickr imperceptibly, kneaded
and leavened LivingSocial, and massaged MineCraft
outlook plenti full confidence, faith, and inherent
lettered oblations serve as snap chatting,
the bittersweet silent story of my life age
fifty and nine automatically rebroadcast
in indelible (yet never washed out) beige
indistinguishably linkedin, when counting
the last three of seventy somber orbitz,
signify torturous custom made cage
whose darkening shades of gray
housed a weakened Harriet Harris,
an ashen corpse lay
no doubt a grown changeling dust play
a cruel trick, and soul of me mum didst slay,
so...tis with great difficulty aye write this poem today
cathartic to brush off self denunciation,
an albatross that dust way
heavily incriminating, ostracizing this mind of mine,
recurring every year comb May fourth a line
codifying, delineating, earmarking,
and doth likened
to elementary school Boyer
as in Henry Kline
no less painful reflection plus unavoidable,
hence this middle aged man lets feelings incline
toward self expression this anniversary
revisiting re: deign
upon memorializing general up beat
defiance at death of thine late mother,
where disease rabidly did eat
ting her til she expired,
this singular married heir
set himself a writing fete
wordlessly mouths never expressed greet
unbeknownst reeders gleaning my sentiments heat
ting recollected adieu bid prior,
whence she angrily wanted to meet
that accursed nemesis
against healthiness and repeat
cherished apothegm,
that existence offers no second act
as she relinquished slipping tenuous weak bract
leave ving ever fainter grip upon cracked
pommel of mortality, an immutable fact
thence black knight denounced, pounced, hijacked
trounced unannounced, vanquished, lacked
motive to rival nixed, extinguished sputtering pact
fast fading joie de vivre unspoken,
where death rattle racked
personal def tone accentuation tracked
subsequent self castigation,
excoriation nearly whacked
me to Timbuktu rebuking extolling bless
sing experienced from
this sole son for thirteen years, aye confess
when the inimitable Harriet Harris
Once thy future spouse (Abby Zison) found herself in the family way
(with what would turn out to be the first of our two daughters – i do say
determined and sealed the decision per our rolling in the figurative hay
to wed said mother of thine deux female progeny
on an agreed (in Linkin Park) upon a green day.
Both of us happened to be older grown offspring at ten times thrice
Or three plus decades to be generally precise
our fate sealed sans no hup hauling clay dice.
Said age difference approximately a year and a half between us two,
and miserably living with parents, which o’er the years rancor grew.
I agreed to pledge my troth on the premise this writer
(christened Matthew Harris) aka king o one scott the lighter
found himself in the throes of becoming a potential mister mom)
per one dominant seminal striver a darwinian foo fighter.
Since neither of us took any precautions and thru caution to the wind
the inevitable (i.e. a so called bun in the oven) nonetheless
tasting supposed verboten fruits branded us as having sinned
took us by surprise and got us necessarily biologically pinned.
Even though a decision to tie the gordian knot (more like a noose)
per donning the role of future father tightened and n’er got loose
an inner conflict jostled thine inner being
against forming a legal wedded union – the deuce.
Prior to taking that legal vow to be husband and wife
until death doth us part before the justice of the peace
(which building matter of fact, happens to be
a hopper, skipper and jumper
from where this seat experiences posterior strife
because this gluteus maximus constitutes on bony ****
as if being cut by a knife
matrimonial bliss seemed like a pipe dream
in subsequent years only to spiral into a maelstrom of chaotic life.
In truth, the prospect to marry
in general mills and aforementioned gal in particular
hardly filled yours truly with giddy excitement
but a decision this troubadour wished to defer and tarry
even as of this writing thoughts meander envisioning
the bachelor life - since daughters grown and I feel self confidant
to manage the unforeseen challenges of life, and hence less wary.
MaryAnn Sage
Approximately one and a half score minus seven years ago
this then naïve and innocent early twenty something,
now a middle aged, diamond in the rough, jaded
two plus decades slavish married male did not realize
his fare maiden perfect form, she a capricorn
(who also shared same January 13th birthday as myself,
though a half dozen years Mycenae senior
hovered in mine immediate proximity,
a mere hello kitty whisker away,
which accompanying cat’s eye soft nose a pet smart appetite
saw me weight tool screwed up
to revere mother of pearl opal mate ideal beau
now ex post facto finds yours truly ruing foregone soul mate to crow
in vain, though I cannot help pining and lamenting where art thou – dow
ting she (MaryAnn Sage, a young whirled, wide webbed childless divorcee,
a couple of years shy of thirty)
ponders whereabouts of this contemplative, furtive
* * * * * * * * * *
Some times it's
hard to love you
When you make me
Feel so bad
how could happy times
And promises
Turn out
To be so sad
When you hold me
In your arms
You make
Everything alright
Yet the neighbors
And me all know,Baby
Your
Somewhere else tonight
Chorus dripping with steel guitar
-----------------------:::::--------::::::::::::-----------------::
Truly I wish
You could be
Satisfied with me
Wanting nothing more
second verse of chorus
-------------+----------- ditto on steel ----------------+------------
True to me
I wish you could be
But you never have
Been able to before
Back to song
--------------
I miss you
When we're parted
Though your making
my heart bleed
I'll always have
the fondness but someday
I'll kick the need
And you know that I'd
be lying if I said
I wished you'd go
But I'm clinging
To the knot
at the end of my rope
And I thought that you should know
Close with chorus
--------------------
If so minded
that will neither revolutionize whorled wide web,
nor pollinate like fecund human loam
viz - it mine neurological nuances here
within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,
my present home,
town pulsating with
so called "butterfly effect" ineluctably
fluttering microscopically
like dust motes or invisible foam
(bell leave me) metamorphosed
mental whim, within cranial dome
(in valise case body electric)
covered in 50 + nine slim shades
of gray streaked brown dread fully medium
length lockets i rarely comb,
boot food for thought to set literary stage
before affixing my poetic missive -
from this word wrangler,
hoof hinds himself dumbfounded
at whiz bang of years cuz - just yesterday
aye remembered being a boy,
now i yam more than
half a century since birth didst age.
without further ado
i offer literary missives enclosed
within this body politic spooked
me playful teenage inner child goes "boo"
fur ye to ponder and brew
of his small bread box sized lil motley crue
two daughters due
tee flapped wings, and flew the coop
whereby aye resemble offspring hybrid
ostrich crossed with an emu,
whose deux progeny sired from personal
super reproductive goo
swimming swiftly in
harried styled, swiftly taylor made
viscous tailored tulle lord hue
carrying miniature bin - laden
genetic heritage predominantly Jew
wish with one late uncle Sam,
who preferred to be called cra debt lou
who himself happened to be,
a milch cow frequent moo
wing for bare naked lady gaga friend
winnie mandy della pooh,
which induced inxs doth rue
what comprises Darwinian
Origin of Species to be true
evolutionary biologists versus
Bible thumping creationists claim
with tangible proof as their view
perchance includes you
this chimp bull leaves humans
originated from primate zoo.
Superior energy in UFO's
Paranormal informal, Friends or Foes?
Flying dam well where they please
Having humans on their knees
No power resists the Nano Unos
Note: Nano Uno are angelic words, meaning “Power of The Source!” AGAPE 2 [aa g?
pay] Smile! And LOL!
(Aborted attempt to mend fences, -
which version overly pedantic for
her minimal leisure/down time as
full time student at University.)
no...no...no...this tree
mend dose electronic
endeavor of mine, ya see
NOT predicated on
violating sworn
confidentiality, which re:
maned wolf heartedly intact NEVER
your privacy broached
only with therapist (every Monday
at 2:00 p.m. I see, who pre
sides in Collegeville), nee
NOR didst "mother" Abby
give spoiler alert, an agree
meant made, but
this feeble ambition,
sans non rhyme
mark hubble epistle
awoke within me
to risk, (perhaps
getting rebuffed, viz from me
to thine eldest daughter thee),
Versailles till young lady, asper
your lifelong lee
gee in of ill feelings toward dis
dada festering, figuring, key
ping raw emotions
within our respective
most sacred soulful place, this
my atypical modus operandi
i.e. theatrical poetical,
and metaphorical jee
git sue sparring
move minus referee
encapsulating dudgeon -
unintentionally
inflicting gushing, streaming
widening gulf,
and/or long fostering,
when these 21st
century days witness
littoral breach comb
ming dramatic hee
ving (akin to hurry
cane Florence's
club footing glee
fully bearing, dub
bling, and fuming “she”
bore down with
full might) free
lee wreaking havoc as if
both of us viewing
the other as an
unknown fierce arc enemy
thus, uncontrollable non
Joe king) paternal
feeling constricted wherein wry
ting on the figurative brick
wall (near the "FAKE"
Firth of Forth),
in good times found why...,
I revised a poem written
January twenty second
last year – two thousand twenty one
regarding gratitude for Medicare
Insurance to foot the bill
concerning ability to heal
courtesy immune system
undergoing toe till agency
or closest approximation thereof
impossible mission to undergo
one hundred percent protection
against contracting deadly illness,
viz latest epidemic impacting civilization.
Here at Highland Manor Apartments
Saturday January twenty third,
two thousand and twenty one,
I attest yours truly
received the first (of four)
inoculations to stave off
getting COVID-19,
thus mine poetic title
might not seem absurd.
Wednesday February third
and Friday October twenty second
same year as above
witnessed himself receiving
second and third injections respectively
to diminish vulnerability
contracting transmissible pathogen.
Today Wednesday April sixth
two thousand twenty two
poet of Perkiomen Valley
received the fourth
bringing him up to date
(or speed if you prefer druggist's lingo)
with Center for disease
control recommendations.
Aforementioned stance toward death
(meaning taking preventative measures
to live healthy existence)
obviously avoid Saturday night fever
regarding desire Stayin' Alive
and most oppressive
when mine mental, physical
and/or spiritual yours truly
takes a (swan) dive
analogous where bajillion bees
swarm from their hive.
Linkedin with well known poem by and by
penned by Emily Dickinson, I didst decry
expressed her relief
to surender release
and amazingly gracefully die
"Because I could not stop for Death,"
she aptly crafted verses to comply
reverently, merrily, and gloriously accepting
cessation of existence well nigh
as does one garden variety generic goofy guy.
All natural catastrophes aside,
plus excluding thermonuclear war,
where civilization would get fried
nullifying idea viz,
let conscience be your guide,
nor no place to run and hide
left to grapple with dystopian quandary
COPLA SESENTA Y UNO
: This Bad Guy World
Even just cause makes not good war
If you attack you put to waste:
Good does no harm
Marshalling defence at your door
Can make bloody retreat in haste:
Shrieks of alarm
If you let the Dao lead the Way
Bad Guys’ll jump up and down in vain:
To tumble down
Even apt choices bring dismay
While you listless wait and bear pain:
Time’s the rogue clown
© T. Wignesan –
Paris, 2014
COPLA CUARENTA Y UNO: This Bad Guy World
Engine turns on a principle
Whole physical laws based on it:
E-motion-less
Humans think their plight’s multiple
No one’s asking them not to quit:
Life’s such a mess
Whole planets and solar systems
In white heat blow up as Quasars:
Or Black Holes suck
Would pastiche Primal Soup poems
Paste poets on canvass stars:
The best of luck!
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2014
The UN Rides on Human Skeletons
By
Muhammad Nasrullah Khan
The UN’s representatives
Suited in beautiful attire
Torchbearers of justice
Warriors against poverty
They strut before cameras
Magic bags in hands,
Walking, heads bowed
Carrying weight of the planet.
They ponder destiny of the bleeding earth
Sitting on cozy chairs
The Secretary General pushes peace
Promising of better days.
Far from the cameras
Missing limbs
Pay the Cost of War
Leaving behind hungry orphaned children
Suffering unending grief.
In the name of patriotism
Young soldiers, torn from family
Their eyes like kittens
Separated from mother
They sleep in ditches dug in mud
They kill the enemy during the day
And see the dead, dancing and laughing at night.
Guilt cripples them more than battle
In the loneliness these “brave” men
Curse the curses their generals spat at the enemy.
Peace
This promise rides on human skeletons
So absurd, amid a stretch of war.
Eight-year old Olena lies in a Ukraine hospital
The sun colors her dolls
Left in a broken pieces of home
Her burnt body, an unread page of her cut-short life
What worth is the UNO to her?
She never chanced at hello
Could only say goodbye.
News cameras in Afghanistan,
An old man rasping with languid lungs
Buries his young son
Wiped-Out
Because he was a singer
UNO charter sings
Peace, dignity, and equality
On a healthy planet.
The blue wrecked ship sinks
Peace mocks through shattered spars
Sleeping on flowery mats
The Security Council dreams
Another amazing sermon
Preaching peace to the world-wide family
Discovering love in human DNA.
COPLA CINCUENTA Y UNO: This Bad Guy World
Evil pounces on the defenceless
The covert path beckons the Bad Guy:
Pollutes pure blood
Watch how the Bad Guys congregate unless
Good Guys en bloc block Bad Guy ploy:
Altar sacred
When plots are hatched covered with lies
With Security Council vetoes:
Who sucks profits
All trussed up by treacherous spies
Truth’s smothered in accursed ghettoes:
Rich man’s glove fits
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
COPLA TREINTA Y UNO : This Bad Guy World
Is Life then an experiment
At death humans stand stark naked:
Must right be wrong
Can there be greater merriment
Than Fat Cat Wars celebrated:
Image votes strong
No pardon then for confessions
Each his own hidden fears must face:
Right here on Earth
Those who visit Earth in missions
Must laugh at Fat Cats’ kissing grace:
What show of mirth
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
The denomiating the factor, the colnel without the sanders, the heater that you can handle,
the rookie but still establihed. Can you remote the channel to insight pursuit the crown on you. Came on through like a singing group so dirty leave a stain on you. Jump no hoops to handle you like ludacris will act a fool. Reboot this boo I'm shining through. So turn the mic up pour us two.