Anticipating Autumn brings me joy
The rise of Fall for me came right on time
Bright crimson leaves my favorite by far
But then a hurricane forms in the gulf
I live nearby the gulf of (what’s it now?)
Our courage tested many times before
We’ll bear the brunt and cross that bridge again
What courage to weather a crimson storm
Rising up bridging the gap between fear and action!
Life changes like the colours in autumn.
Transitions are not as smoothe as seasons.
A crimson storm rages in the depths of the soul
Throwing up confusion like debris.
A crisis of identity, faith and point of view.
A questioning of where one stands in life.
A crimson storm isolates us in our own mind.
We wonder if anyone could understand and
The methods of management is down to us.
Courage walks beside fear helping us to rise.
They cross the bridge of uncertainty together
And the person central to those feelings
Is greeted by joy on the other side
Because the storm did not hold them back.
When the heat of the crimson storm cools off
And life begins to settle down,
A character gains strength and knowledge...
What will this mean moving forward?
By noon the autumn sky has turned to rust.
A crimson dust has settled on my tongue.
Across the dark valley, I feel the storm;
My body turns towards the sheltered door.
And yet I cannot make myself go back.
There is a space between the wish to hide
And that first step beyond the reach of home.
I need not lose my fear to take a step.
The thunder breaks. I flinch beneath its force.
My hands still shake; the wind has not grown kind.
I feel my frightened self begin to rise,
Then let the breath I hold escape at last.
No bridge of stone can cross the space between
The fear I feel and what I need to do.
I lift my foot above the sodden leaves
And step into the storm on trembling feet.
An empty chair sits beneath an old oak tree,
sitting with the memories of pixies
dancing in the yard;
children playing tag or catch
under the watchful eye
of a gnome now turned to stone
and resting in the nearby grass.
In the tree above
lie years of visions and notions,
angels climbing among the branches,
higher and higher
until they leapt with joy
and flew away on a smile of the wind.
The lawn parties and picnics
through the years left glimpses
of brownies peeping,
though none could hear
the ancient, whispered wisdom
that came with open eyes and daydreams.
Today there is only an empty chair,
abandoned by the siren song of imagination,
the days when we were young
and anything was possible.
In my physical world on this planet Earth
Existing in the Northern Hemisphere
I see the beauty of four seasons pass
Like Winter's white, the pastel Spring reborn
Then Summer's vibrant blooms and varied greens
Give in to Autumn's spree of red and golds
I smell the brisk cold air of Winter days
And scents of soup and stew complete the joy
Yet come the Spring, the air is filled with balm
That summer blooms fulfill with perfumed air
To shift the cycle soon to Autumn's bliss
with smells of warm fruit pies and burning leaves
Oh yes, touched by the sting of Winter air
the icy cold of wind and snow outdoors.
And then by Spring's warm breeze that renews hope
To soon feel Summer's balm of beach and pool
Make ready for the cooling Autumn days
To feel the warmth of bonfires once again
I hear the Winter winds that blizzards howl
The steady April rains that nurture Spring
The booming thunderstorms of Summer's fling
And Autumn's sounds of harvest in the fields
Thankful for senses as these seasons fill
My blest physical world on this planet Earth
Braving the lay of time and space, the joy,
And suffering - the flesh in throes of pain
Or highs. Lowing on floor or riding springs.
Between the sheets, we sense darkness and light.
Ebonic plague, a question forms, dare ask…
In sickness haste, we know we cannot last.
Then God appears in chiaroscuro;
In feint and faint, we blink out S O S.
What place we find when closing eyes, coin-shut.
I’m good enough? My works paved paradise?
An entity…who’s there? Fear look… I stare.
My history’s like dandelion seeds.
Wide or narrow, a path of no escape.
Eternity, in endless waves, fallout?
Indisputeable world cricket champions of the west
we are indeed difficult to defeat in every test
The T20 game of sports bring the best players altogether
to compete between eleven players to see who is better
the sound of sixes rocks the stadium when someone makes a hit
alone this will tell you what the spectators love to see bit by bit
every batsman and bowler goes to edge to keep a clean fight
to carry their choice with a passion to succeed and be right
the Caribbean premier league takes place once a year
when teams are drawn in ballots for the gold to compare
In a time of five hours of battle the winner will one decide
by whichever team with highest score takes away the ride
the game of this nature depends on the one with the highest score
which the audience loves to enjoy and to return to look for more
Saddened sunsets flare their final glories.
The call of the wild never more beckons.
The wilderness has been all too soon tamed.
No longer are there unknown lands to walk.
No more does the wind call a man onward.
Buildings scrape the sky where once eagle flew.
Parking lots lie where elk and deer once grazed.
Buffalo no longer cover the land.
The wolf no longer howls his ancient rune.
The Cherokee, Comanche, Lakota
No longer stalk their game in a wide land.
But still within my heart I hear the call
That summons my soul to walk the wild lands
And I long to stalk the forests and mounts
And ford wide rivers that run who knows where.
There’re deep valleys, still, where no man has walked
And water holes from which no man has drunk.
There is much to see and so much to do,
But here I sit, matched with an aged wife
And joints that no longer move as they should.
I will stay till my heart no longer beats
And I walk in an undiscovered land.
Blueberries bend
in the frozen eyes of
a bowl
Oranges rippen' the
chest compress inside
a bowl
lemons light up
he soothing sounds
of a tea filled pot
I am thinking of California
A place of rich
sacrament, /a place
glissend with Kerry wood
& gold
The night to brings
fourth pictures of cool
traffic/
sunsets just
above the nights air
I am remembering
my home &
so I must pay homage.
when i see that certain smile
it heightens moments
i feel more than approval
it is that playful adoration
that tells me
the heavens are at peace
no star out of alignment
flocks of wings in synchronicity
ocean breezes freely dancing in palms
pelicans gliding above waves
children raised hands down the slide
all the galaxies are accounted for
no nail missing in the structure
a building anticipation as the roller coaster
reaches its peak in the climb
the taste of cotton candy
already upon my tongue
in the fervent hope
that the smile is a promise
of the kiss to follow
the roller coaster now earthbound
the ones i cherish most deeply
approval in a moment
of playful adoration
it is when i wear a simper
you do that to me
shy and wanting to pull on pigtails
Oregon 9/22/26
We used eggroll wrappers
to make the best
taco beef
with fried cheese
and three cheese
cassorole
delisious
topped with crush doretos and shredded cheese.
tomato sauce dripping
teasing the hungriest persons imagineation
a dish for people
who like delious food!
-----------------------------------------
He lacked concern for
the people who wished to use the flute!
I sent my Giant Incain Monster
to deal with his foolishness
as he refused to wipe off
the mouthpiece!"
---------------------------------------------
written by: Professor Jerga de Feriantes
---------------------------------------------
Young Bobby slipped into his sister’s room
one night when she was at her boyfriend’s house.
She’d caught him rifling through her stuff before.
To put it mildly, Jessie was not kind.
This time, he’d put each item back in place!
Oh, boy! At last, he found her diary!
He read each page and found some shocking facts!
His eyes were big as saucers as he learned
his sis and all her friends had done some things
they’d never tell their moms and dads about.
He found he couldn’t put this treasure down.
He started finding entries about—HIM:
“The little creep has been in here again.
He messes with my stuff, and he’s too dumb
to put things back in place! I’ll catch him soon!”
“I know some stuff on him he’d never tell
our parents, so I have some leverage.
I just may tell them—” Then he realized
the last page of the diary was missing.
He put the “treasure” back and fled the scene.
1
Sometimes the mind becomes a dragonfly,
brushing against the petals of a water lily,
while a heron stands on one leg, lost in meditation.
2
Over the fence of the jasmine garden,
night-flowering jasmine falls into my courtyard,
softly, drop by drop.
3
A butterfly has slipped into the weaver's room,
and suddenly
the whole place flashes with colour.
4
A city morning. Along the asphalt road,
here and there,
water snails have crawled out of the drains.
5
Beside the cremation ground
where my father and mother were laid to rest,
a periwinkle stands laden with flowers.
6
Upon the face
of a gravestone
rests a red dragonfly.
7
On the fallen trunk
of an uprooted tree,
new leaves gather the morning sun.
8
In the middle of the fields, a shrine to Manasa;
beside the Brahmin priest,
a motorcycle.
9
A Poush night. The northerly wind cuts through.
People in distress light a fire with scraps of wood,
trying to chase away the cold.
10
In the month of Chaitra,
drumstick pods hang from the branches,
like the sticks of a dhak.
Suddenly, the crashing sounds of broken glass
as all the doors closed with nowhere to pass
Time stood still as so many innocent souls breath their last
the tragedy which happened unexpectedly so fast
with blood and fire mixing together on the ground
the city transformed into a great battleground
the hand of terror forced its way with a heavy sound
to hit a target for which it was mount to bound
So many left with unfinished dreams after the blow
to leave the world in darkness moving away the glow
no one had a clue even to use a whistle for anyone to know
that within a few seconds the towers will come below
Perhaps this would never had happened should one foresight
while everyone was so busy about their duty under the light
to commit themselves with intelligence to do everything right
unknowingly they got caught by evil in life to lose the fight
The memory of that one day no one can erase from the mind
which continue to stain the hearts of those who escape death behind
The statue of liberty will forever mourn those patriots who are gone
as well as the earth with open arms sit and wait for hose unborn
The vessel of my breath even the wind cannot shake
I carry it through the silence perfectly made without a mistake
It gives me the inspiration no one will ever understand
to fulfill every dream in my mind and to listen to my command
The mirror of the moon allows me to lift myself whenever I fall
I believe in the light of truth to always answer my call
I weep from my heart before any teardrop could touch the ground
the invisible lamp continues to search for the mystery unfound
No weapon can access what nature have placed in my hand
the seeds of thought I sow in my dream is buried into the sand
To balance the scale of time with the weight of destiny continues to flow
to keep the candle of inspiration alive for the lamp of truth to glow
The architecture of knowledge I build to shape into a frame
have made me what I am and where to imprint my name
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