Left in the wake of destruction,
this mother is called to action.
I am going to shed light on
an infraction, an infraction.
You knocked a single domino,
there is nowhere for us to go.
Forcing us out of our borough
with no crossbow, with no crossbow.
Basic instinct pushed to the brink
no fresh water remains to drink.
In your yard before you can blink
you didn’t think, you didn’t think.
klaus says humanity has lost its trust' so i guess to regain
It is his new must??
trump has won and now presides.' As many people are
Opening their eyes.?]
Many Americans phoned and texted when a new bill was
Debated' and we saw things got really affected.'
I don't know how ( that went down ?)
With all those evil? davos clowns?
soros gates claus and carny, atten-borough thun-burg they'd send you barmy!
In listening to such fifteen minutes? it is plenty.' Of time
To escape the ' forever citys' and before they're built.!
Like a hive.? Do we have a mind.? Hmm think..Think think.?
Also action will do fine.' What will be the next distractions.? Maybe
Its simply best to do as above.? Get involved to devolve.!
Give the agenda a shove.? Which is like a train on its track
Of lies.?? If you remove some sections off a cliff it
Fly's
Side-walk treks along concrete ribbons.
Listening to the passing cars,
to the slipstreams of travelling minds,
their encapsulated lives
humming electrically just as mine.
I don't know this part of the city,
people in my neighborhood
tell of dark days and violent nights
in this borough.
Maybe I should whistle,
stuff hands in pockets,
as if I had a gun,
or a bible?
Occasional smiles
as folks swing-on by,
even the kids are happy,
to be just where they are.
This walk is leading me onward,
and if I get more lost
than I am now,
I shall have found my way
into, a better roadmap
of myself.
The best day in New York is when
The Marathon takes place,
For people from all walks of life
Come out to see the race.
If the weather gods cooperate
And it is crisp and clear,
Then the multitudes plus music makes
A party atmosphere.
The runners, from all countries,
From the fittest to the kind
That look out of shape, all jog,
Including several who are blind…
While the spectators ignore the tape
To barricade them back,
Cheering everyone from those elite
To those with gaits gone slack.
Many hold up signs for kith and kin
And what I love the best
Is when they make the connection,
Joy on both sides manifest.
Every borough joins together
On this festive racing day.
What a wonder it would be if things
Could always be this way!
Earthen songs! from handsome angel throngs, opsoletus
Intervals and spells of the scope of temporal rondure,
A surging of the populus in singulari confluentia
So the book does diagram guthan, guð, and god,
Khute gaia, of poured earth, where legend sleeps
The burial dunes of Zeus, Aether, Erebus, and Chaos
Seasons advance with a tempering of wind’s instruments,
Sweltering bloom to hyperborean calm of frozen seed
Daughters and sons! from cildhama, fruit of the womb
Roaming deeds, of sin and samaritan, per omne spatium
Space of continental breadth or old borough border rings
Century to century in continuo, each end to seamless end
non vigilemus et dormimus in aeternum, of briefest history,
We do not speak of ages dissolved in lights of admiration
Stygian time cannot lie, and there will be other Dark Ages
We now originate and architect machines from the earth
Greater eyes and senses than what natura dedit nobis
What have we committed that we can conceivably survive?
nihil est quod in dulcedinem originis non evanescatin,
There is nothing that does not fade into the sweetness of its origin.
My furrow’s too shallow;
the farro’s gone fallow.
To foul things up thorough,
I can’t plant my yarrow.
Can I borrow your burro?
My barrow’s too narrow,
my plow’s in a burrow,
and I’m clouded with furor.
The cargo from the borough
to my sorrow’s in Fargo,
but my mood might will mellow
if it’s here on the morrow.
----------
'hoti' is the phonetic pronunciation
for the Greek word 'oti', meaning because, since
'furrow' is a trench for planting
'farro' is a type of wheat
'yarrow' is an herb
'burro' is Spanish for donkey
Although it's been several years since we drifted apart
I still dream of you for you hold a place in my heart.
In the zenith of the full moon's glow late last night,
I dreamt of you, my lost loved one as you took flight
on a journey, but this warning to you I must impart...
What dire fate befalls you is not completely clear,
but I know you'll be in danger, and for your life I fear
that somewhere within a city borough you'll fall ill.
The thought of you sick or injured gives me a chill.
Someone follows you on a street, dark and drear!
If you could read my thoughts, you'd be forewarned.
Some would say my premonition should be scorned,
but in this reverie of you the vision seems so real.
I hear you calling me, and I sense the pain you feel.
I've Deja vous of losing you again, for I have mourned.
I'm filled with dread after having this mystical dream,
and woke in a sweat, trying desperately not to scream.
Raced to the window and gazed at the gold gilded moon,
praying that you are well, and I'll hear from you soon.
I wish it with all my heart on the light of a moonbeam.
October 7, 2022
The Mystical Dream Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
The jungle drums have throbbed in Neasden
The message has swiftly spread about
So if you’re travelling around the area
Its suggested you carefully watch out
For the call has been answered
The length and breadth of our fair land
Certain heroes not been found reticent
Back here at the nation’s command
It started with just our Lawrence
But his example aroused so many more
Now in the back streets of Neasden
Camps our own elite camel corps
The camel’s throaty braying
Out sounds morning cocks
And the borough has no need now
For any morning alarm clocks
They are dedicated veterans
Fierce warriors to a man
All there craving for action
Since this campaign began
It’s a sight of heart stopping beauty
A hundred and thirty camels smart and neat
All drawn up in parade order
Down the whole length of our street
The nation owes it all to Lawrence
Who without any idle flaunting
Knew just where his duty lay
And was not found wanting
The jungle drums have throbbed in Neasden
The message has swiftly spread about
So if you’re travelling around the area
Its suggested you carefully watch out
WHAT ABOUT WOLFS
shel silverstein: a bit childish, his giving tree my kids remember, though its parts were dismembered as it gave to the bitter end of life.
ogden nash: well, he gives us moo and milk, until the utter end, short and brief. reminds us of the soup’s - wolf.
wendy cope: born in kent in the london broil (ahem…borough) of bexley. things are going clunk and your face has too much gunk, a hoarder with thirty years of junk and especially she doth remind us don’t answer email when you're drunk.
william james collins: a hoot, billy! only child, born in manhattan, dear old dad worked on wall street. a poet laureate’s big recital on two poems about what dogs think (probably) - what about wolfs?
gershon wolf: he’s flower power-ful in his jest. for example - hippies pulled the triggers and out came flowers. though other comedic poets might create a chuckle, gershon always makes us smile.
7/21/2022
Her two biggest hits were "Lay Down" and "Brand New Key"
Most fans knew her only by her first name, "Melanie".
She was the pride and joy of the Queens borough of New York City.
Later, Melanie lived in the town of Red Bank, New Jersey.
In France, a song achieved number one with "Bobo's Party"
Later, in the Netherlands, "Beautiful People" attained popularity.
Relatively few were aware Melanie's last name was "Safka".
"Brand New Key" reached number one in the U.S. and Canada.
As a singer/songwriter, this lady proved to be prolific.
Melanie still performs today, and is considered terrific.
I thank wikipedia.org for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
When thou look upon mountains
Bereaved in nonchalant fountains
With eyes that devour while haunting
Enchanted by seemingly mysterious daunting
In tempest rages of furious bubbles
Heart swings toward preemptive muddles
Dominantly swerving on to thick ends
Chugging chunks off of mighty bends
How art thou fallen below beams of hope
Zealously rummaging in packs of dope
Where fondest thoughts of feels remain
In dreams of dashing bouts of domain
What sails sea washes through
Rivers of sweet tide borough
Diverting gaze with wishes that draw
Favour in times of numerous straw
Chaos of unexpected turn awaits
With weary momentum of rejected baits
Charades engulfed deep within
In an atmosphere of storming thin
Encased in a feeling of dredge
When thy heart falls over the ledge
Knowing paramount truth in life's fall
Is to live where no zeal exists at all
A selfless desire
A heart full of fire
A need for reflection
A life of seduction
In a little while
It all swept away.
The lonely borough
Full of Laughter and the sorrow
All the little lies
Relationships and ties
In a little while
It all swept away
Just me and You
Days gay and blue
Few drops of rain
Start of love again
In a little while
It all swept away
Krishna
The former home of the Brooklyn Dodgers lives on!
Some of my loved ones still live there
Brooklyn has some things going for it
Such as the great Brooklyn Museum
and the Botanical Gardens
Coney Island is unique
And the borough has the Brooklyn Cyclones team
and the Brooklyn Nets
basketball team
Famous people have called the place home
millions of many different
backgrouds who now call the borough
home
There has been strife there
but the future looks
sunny
for those whose eyes, minds and hearts
experience the ambiance of the place
Brooklyn faces the futue
with great anticipation
I start at the bridge
Down the steps I go
I pass the food stalls
All in a row
Beside the Cathedral
In its garden green
A beautiful sight
There to be seen
Down at borough market
There's a scent in the air
Of the food of many nations
They lovingly prepare
It makes me feel hungry
And I want to try
All of those dishes
So I quickly walk by
Then on to Drakes ship
by the old anchor inn
Where many will stop
For a beer on a gin
As I walk by the river
I see the Dome of St Pauls
I see boats on the water
I hear seagulls calls
I can hear a busker
As he sings clear and sweet
I stop to listen
And I tap my feet
I toss him some coins
Then move on my way
He will never know
How he's made my day
A little bit further
The Globe I can see
With the works of Shakespeare
Its a great place to be
I have so often
Seen a play there
Acted so well
In the open air
The sights smells and sounds
Of London you see
That's why I love London
That's London to me
We all must know,
winter days owe
us quick outgo,
for spring's inflow.
So done with snow!
With joy, we crow!
Warm breezes blow,
and spring's aglow!
Flowers will grow
lined row by row,
and tree buds show.
We love spring so!
With sweet gusto,
the birds below
find twigs, borrow
for nests to stow.
Soon eggs borough;
new chicks bestow.
The grass is low,
seed, feed, now sow.
Soon we must mow;
big chore, although.
Must wear chapeau,
from sun, shadow.
Thru the meadow
streams fully flow.
Rocks, kids will throw
and watch them go,
fly fast, not slow...
big splash sideshow!
New springtime...whoa!!
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