He scratched your back, now he needs bail;
It’s payback time cause he’s in jail.
This pest has tagged your buttonhole.
A cause for worry, you poor soul.
Of course, he needs money, bold cash;
and you fear potential backlash.
One-time friend? Consider pest control;
some cause for worry, you poor soul.
He ‘knows’ you’ll help him, good buddy.
TV news reports quick study -
the judge has ruled against parole.
Less cause for worry, you poor soul.
More news details - "pest" has no clout.
It may be years before he’s out;
he lied in court; he’s dug a hole.
No cause for worry, you poor soul…
Unwilling rose
At the entrance of the supermarket
a lone rose for sale in a vase
Yes, for sale, at a reduced price
she had been there all day long
and no one had been interested in purchase
Twelve hours in a vase takes a toll
as younger roses came,
moisty from the gardener care, they
had the youth she lacked
She had an advantage her petals
was fully on display
a gentleman came and bought her
she was pleased at first
until he demanded a reduction in her value
He got his wish
but she took revenge by wilting in his
buttonhole
Midnight boom town streets have this allure
imagining an uncanny venture
eavesdrop veil surround but dark as coal
how I love my after hours stroll
Secret worlds unfold their impish plot
mesmerised entanglement a tiered whatnot
black crush velvet sky we must extol
how I love my after hours stroll
Gilt fantasies that float across each lane way
fluorescent gremlin from some ghostly parking bay
gust on salt ice pier might buttonhole
how I love my after hours stroll
Snow clad mall whistler gaffe prone
while wandering the ink hue urban zone
a chapter lift and snatch from begging bowl
how I love my after hours stroll
Traffic signals stellar stoic stance
heartbeat of nocturnal moonlight dance
frozen digit signage reeks of twinkling North Pole
how I love my after hours stroll
new day about to rise
and through a buttonhole
~ suddenly the sun in all its glory
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on June 2, 2021
A troll followed me home one day,
Looking to bring me down.
I told it I didn’t want to play,
To go dig a great deep hole,
Roll its little soul into the black hole.
It didn't matter where I went
It just wouldn't go away.
The troll climbed up the phone pole
Stuck its drooling tongue out and scolded.
I had troll in my soup bowl,
Troll in my egg-roll,
Troll my keyhole,
Troll in my buttonhole,
Troll in my toilet roll,
Troll in my toilet bowl.
It followed me to school and crawled
Into my cubbyhole.
It followed me to the barber shop
Sat on top of the barber's pole.
It followed me on my date
Sat between me and my date.
I finally decided I was going to get control,
Ignored the troll and foiled its day,
Until one day it got bored
And slithered away.
3/12/2021
Children Story
Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru
In buttonhole set daily a red rose new
His charisma couldn’t beguile the neighbor
The dragon disgorged fire in ‘62’s war.
January 24, 2019
(Note : Jawaharlal Nehru (1889-1964) was the first Prime Minister
of independent India. His charismatic leadership initiated the offer
of peaceful coexistence, goodwill and brotherhood to China, but
as a result of Sino-Indian border dispute China attacked India in 1962.)
There it stood,
torn from the threshold of life,
this mere device of atrocities,
this buttonhole that bleeds
your insecurities across
an ancient atlas.
It dies in the corner of your eye
as you solemnly glance,
yet make no movement to save it.
This is the terrible loss of belief
that leaves you glaringly empty,
no matter your desperation to retrieve it.
The day the earth stood still,
bells suspended in the tower,
chimes froze in vacant space,
nullified the hour.
Her veil like spider web,
stiff with Winter frost,
hung upon the mannequin head,
poignant and lost.
His buttonhole carnation,
a bullet wound lapel,
blood red with cautious dying,
in the dresser fell.
And all the best laid plans
unravel seam by seam,
faint echoes in an empty church,
never more to dream.