Best Unum Poems
Youa tells me a story over the hot hibachi:
How she went to Laos
To see her lucky sisters
For the first time in two decades,
Since the country has loosened up enough
To let tourists like us in.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asks me,
Then says she gave her sister Mayli $50
To help her family.
When Youa returned to the Twin Cities,
She learned her sister had been murdered
For the money
By Mayli’s ex-husband, who’d heard
Of their family reunion
And thought the cash rightfully belonged to him.
“Did you give your relatives anything?”
She asks.
“Yes,” I reply. “$500. But they say they need more
To get to America.”
It’s not just bricks and mortar
Nor a distant memory
But the ground roots of our livelihood
And our future destiny.
As this place prepares to close
When the final bell will sound
To mark the end of education
On these few acres of ground
So as the winds of change
Whistle down St Andrews Street
Time to take a look behind
Before it beats the last retreat....
To days when health and safety
Had not bound us up in rules
When “clackers”, “chinas”, “conkers”
Were all the rage in schools.
Chocolate crunch with strawberry custard
Was “ haute cuisine” at dinners
And monitors patrolled the room
Catching non-veg eating sinners !
Then there were school productions
That often caused a rumpus
I was told I didn’t look fierce enough
As a pirate in Columbus
It’s where I learnt the facts of life
Red faced at every showing
We gathered in the dining hall
To watch “living and growing”.
Girls in groups around the field
Playing games with white elastic
Or spinning tubes around their heads
Making noises quite fantastic
And on those heady summer days
In the shade of orchard trees,
I’d have my packed lunch and my drink
Smelling hops upon the breeze.
Groups of boys in mass migration,
Was quite a common sight ,
Swarming like bees round honey
To the battle cry of “fight!”
“Top cat” was on the telly
And so was “ Hong Kong Fooey”
We all brought board games into school
On the feast day of St Louis
Queuing up in tennis courts
Then marching to assembly,
I doubt they had such crowd control
For the FA cup at Wembley.
The changing rooms down by the pool
Were not far from the gym,
Where ropes and box and benches
Were designed to do you in.
Bassets sherbet from the tuck shop
A treat beyond belief
Matched only by the popping
Of “space rocks” on your teeth
So when the corridors are empty
And the babbling voices still,
Theses echoes and these memories
Shall future musings fill .....
For it’s not just bricks and mortar
Not just a place to swat and cram
It’s where the building blocks of selfhood
Turn the boy into a man.
E Pluribis and Unum Haiku
Pluribus Unum
Did look lost without the E
So what should we do?
Henry Mancini
Drove a long Lamborghini
Both made sweet music.
Did you see docile?
Guy who was an apostle
Sleeping on the job.
Let the bed bugs bite
And will stay up through the night
Trying to get tight.
Oh dear and oh no
Gifts were lost in Atlanta
And found by Santa.
Why all of the gloom
Poetry Soup I presume
Around likes to loom.
I was explicit
When response is illicit
You should never send.
He had history
Of opposing you and me
We started to see.
He had an angle
And him wanted to strangle
And also mangle.
My constitution
Were going against again
So I took a spin.
Make mine Poem of Day
You should read in Runaway
Beach in Oregon.
What is disturbing
Drinking we should be curbing
Do it anyway.
Bright backset driver
Surely will be survivor
Keeping big mouth shut.
A proposition
In poor lighted condition
Sure is hard to see.
Was quite whimsical
When glass was finally full
Did have fighting duel.
He who buys last beer
Should be sure to have much fear
Bringing my wife here.
If it had not been
For likes of those we call Ben
Was Kit a Carson?
No there is one to think about
Paris we have gone
So we may end up plastered
Like we did last year.
In Washington oh no
We watched people who will grow
Tons I told you so.
A haiku have heard
Was like wings of a big bird
Big commotion stirred.
Was a big battle
Loaded a bunch of cattle
Or would skedaddle.
Really was Rogers
Part of band of old cadgers
Named Will who we love
Were going against again
It is a free country as long as you have money. ha! ha!
INTO AN ENDLESS AND SINGLE DAY
Uninterrupted torment,
for the unfortunate ones,
like me,
to suffer as always,
the craving is so strong,
consistently,
trying to find us an explainable excuse to submit,
constantly giving us shakes and stress,
continually without giving up,
makes us sweat,
cause we are eternally addicted.
forever.
An everlasting torment,
for all time to come,
invariably,
we succumb to it,
as usual, we go into perpetual oblivion,
we keep repeating the same mistake,
over and over again,
because we are weak,
we are human beings,
unceasing our addiction,
which we acquired innocently or purposely,
without exception,
the power of the craving stays with us.
...inspired by 'To The President-Elect' by Joseph Brodsky
You've reached the pinnacle of fame
where double-speak's a daily game,
so many words, so little meaning,
popinjay, so skilled at preening.
Posing for a photo-op
your perfect hair a puissant crop,
your perfect smile, a frozen glare
which fools the foolish everywhere.
Demagoguery designed
to derogate the keener mind,
a smile may hide what lies behind
and mark the downfall of your kind.
"50 Words for Poe: cor unum"
"cor unum"
cor ad cor loquitur
confessio
crescente luce
de profundis
lux vitae lux
et lux in tenebris lucet
de nobis fabula narratur
fons vitae caritas
lux vitae lux
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8k9f88gEbE
et super omnia
ad te ipso sit tru
et deo
...inspired by 'To The President-Elect' by Joseph Brodsky
You've reached the pinnacle of fame
where double-speak's a daily game,
so many words, so little meaning,
popinjay, so skilled at preening.
Posing for a photo-op
your perfect hair a puissant crop,
your perfect smile, a frozen glare
which fools the foolish everywhere.
Demagoguery designed
to derogate the keener mind,
a smile may hide what lies behind
but mark the downfall of your kind.
Carrying worn suitcases packed tightly
with meager possessions, lofty dreams,
bringing hearts filled
with longings
for the familiarity of homelands
and family left behind,
they came to America.
Schowengerdt, Rabun, Mazzei,
Erickson, Keeton and Rausch.
RaGusa, Martin, Devries,
Kaplan, Renfro, Czypryzs,
Morrissey, Hartpence, Colbert,
Collier, Roth, Proia and Ward.
They came to America.
Shining through immigrant tears,
Lady Liberty’s freedom torch
beaconed the way to portals of hope.
Beyond ... the future’s golden glow
beckoned the brave to create a new America
molded out of the melting pot of diversity.
They came to America.
Standing hand in hand at Ellis’s shore,
in reverent silence,
hearts bursting with pride,
a hundred mother tongues
with single voice proclaimed
in perfect harmony,
“We are America!”
It’s time, by now, we did away with nations.
I tell you, hand on heart beneath the flag,
This jingo jag has now become a drag.
Those puerile patriotic palpitations
had meaning only when we lived in tribes.
Today our people mix and mingle freely –
so can’t we now dispense with Horace Greeley,
and wetbacks, wops and wogs, and all those jibes?
Since nations never have a sense of humour,
it’s little wonder why we have these wars.
We need a change of heart. Embrace the cause:
don’t split us into gooks or spooks or squaws,
or hicks or micks or spicks, or baby-boomers.
One nation under God, we’re all consumers.
...inspired by 'To The President-Elect' by Joseph Brodsky
You've reached the pinnacle of fame
where double-speak's the daily game,
so many words, so little meaning,
popinjay, so skilled at preening.
Posing for a photo-op
your perfect hair a puissant crop,
your perfect smile, a frozen glare
which fools the foolish everywhere.
Demagoguery designed
to derogate the keener mind,
a bush will hide what lies behind
and mark the downfall of your kind.
...inspired by 'To The President-Elect' by Joseph Brodsky
You've reached the pinnacle of fame
where double-speak's a daily game,
so many words, so little meaning,
popinjay, so skilled at preening.
Posing for a photo-op
your perfect hair a puissant crop,
your perfect smile, a frozen glare
which fools the foolish everywhere.
Demagoguery designed
to derogate the keener mind,
a smile may hide what lies behind
but mark the downfall of your kind.
The past and the future
fold into the present
Conceptually vacant
twice empty refrains
No before and no after
perpetually frozen
The ice of indenture
—this moment contains
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
Forced by angry Esau to leave home
Jacob had no choice, so he ran
To his mother's brother in Haran
The sun set quickly that afternoon
So Jacob set twelve stones by his head
And lay down to sleep, the ground as his bed
In the morn, twelve stones had turned into one
Momentarily perplexed and stunned
Jacob sought meaning in what had been done...
Twelve sons would he sire in Haran
Each one a gem on his own
Together, they'd form a happy home
Unum Carmen
Too many good thoughts
so many bad poems
The bridge to forever
exacting its toll
Too many to count
just one to remember
As beauty releases
—redeeming the soul
(The New Room: June, 2023)