Upon a small bench in our park
Two lovers, entwined in the dark,
Somehow did not know
The street light, aglow
Highlighted their hot lovers' spark.
Some viewers wore supportive grins
In knowing how love always wins
Will take its own course
Wherever the source
To dance with its romantic spins.
But then, in the crowd, some yell no!
This lover's display now must go!
Now please get a room
Where hot love can zoom
And bystanders don't have to know!
Spring, the season I love comes along
Green shoots now sprouts from verdant trees
Soft breeze kiss bystanders` cheeks
Sweet sunshine streams with grace
New life starts to shine
Flowers blossom
In gardens
With bright
Hues
Escape: Tribute to George Oliver
"People can't fly when they're backed into a corner." -Tami Longaberger
Centenarian, I can only imagine
What you were thinking
When you boarded your wheelchair,
Headed out the door of the Ewing Wing,
And took the downhill runway.
Surely you meant to take flight-
Bystanders who saw that you had left your Rocking chair
Could only gape in awe at your audacity of hope.
The California Highway Patrol,
Noting that you forgot to fasten your seatbelt,
Rushed in where the federal aviation commission could not.
The CHP took you back to John C Fremont
And bound you to earth for the few days
you had left.
Trapped, we often get our wings late.
My friend, I can only assume, that you,
Despite the new alarm on the door of the Ewing wing,
Are flying high above us
Alien 8V from deep outer space
welcomed by police who stunned him with mace
bystanders thought they should have given him grace
Visitor was surprised, you could see by his face
Alien 8V disappeared without a trace
He warned others to avoid the human race
earth is a totally unfriendly place
they hurt your feelings and zap you with stinging mace
Kindred in bound twine,
inseparably free by fiber,
torn by the heat from dual flames.
Chase and kick outward,
indiscriminately,
spiral—undone.
Bystanders are able to face blame,
even though disconnected from incident.
A Bastard those still may be,
if the case is taken up for them
like it wasn’t for our sake.
A landfill of waste,
a place where grace spoils
under a soil of turmoils thickened
by crude oils.
The semi-conductor to
man’s moral coil.
Unchanged by full or semi-sweet molasses mixtures.
Only taken on tour
and touch torch to name,
shining in a spanking light.
Change.
Limos stretch far past
The Vanishing Point.
Ethereal Limbo.
There, in decomposition,
In their lair.
Laughing down at the idea of fact,
which he protests to thee,
threatening its way
past thy door threshold.
With sand kicked up,
irritating the corneal scale
embedding deep within fine carpets
oriental pattern's detail.
You are destined to go places;
Preferably God-centered places
Reached via roads less traveled.
The few that blaze such God-centered
Places are fixated and permeated
With a strong sense of purpose.
Moreover, when traveled, onlookers
And bystanders are quick to distract,
Which may cause traverlers to subtract,
Losing traction as well as losing
Sìght of their God given purpose.
But may you be ever focused, never
Slowed nor tempted to switch tracts.
May any who oppose you be the
Amunition that only recharges you.
May nothing said or done cause a discharge.
Your name is Journey. Full speed ahead!
Two little boys, in a fight
Bystanders watched in delight
One little boy fell to the ground
The other little boy continued to pound
One bystander decided to intervene
Over the two, he stood in between
Over the two, like a partitioning wall,
Over the two, he stood strong and tall
One little boy needed protection
The other little boy needed correction
the words scowled
peering through the bars
imprisoned thoughts
rattling empty cups
they had been arrested
incarcerated
denied expression
unjustly accused
charged with
unfettered utterances
benign belligerence
the most heinous with
Double Entendre-ing
They all claimed to be but pawns
Innocent bystanders
Drawn into the fray
Succumbing to the wily whim of wit
Some will be shunned forever
Lurk in the shadows…waiting
Others will “clean-up” better
assume “new” meanings
Many will work behind the scenes
Savor the eerie darkness
Of language and its implied intent and meaning
For “Judgement is Mine…Sayeth the Poet”
Helen’s hugger-mugger ways caused a hullabaloo
Her hoarder house hardly had room for two
Let’s trick her outside, someone suggested.
But Helen firmly and fiercely protested.
She’s got to go out sometimes said the throng.
But everything was brought in, so the bystanders were wrong.
This morning was
quite unlike the last.
Stooping branches held
no breath of song.
No trills, no calls,
no sudden flutter flaps
of wings beating air.
Silence only broken
by the hushed quiver
that's something's wrong.
The wind lifted to
stir the birds awake,
to shake their perches
off their quiet
interlude,
but all to no avail.
For the sprays to kill weeds
and baits to kill
rodent pests as well,
had unintended
well foretold and known
blatant consequences
killing birds as well.
Stung by humans who
believe that nature
exists for their convenience,
and that it is appropriate,
to send innocent bystanders
to hell, to where the birds
fell,
silent.
What's the big deal
Why do we always have to be serious
Or well adjusted and stuff like that
That's no freaking fun
Why can't we run amok through the streets naked
Tossing flowers to bystanders
Bizarre as that may seem
Life is to be lived to the fullest and enjoyed
The kookier the outlook, the better
If you delve deep enough
You can find humour in almost every situation
However, you must be predisposed to it
To recognize it
In other words, you must be a bit twisted
My motto... “Why be serious!”
Ain't nothing wrong with being twisted
Bystanders of waves,
plethora of marine life;
Awe inspiring breach.
Bandeleros break
the grip of society;
Culture’s climate shifts.
Brackish voices sing
the blues inside the bayou;
Salty metaphors.
Background stars still shine
although they’re never in front;
Juxtaposition.
Back it up baby,
better give it all you got;
Befitting a boss.
they lurk everywhere
religious fundamentalists
preying upon the unwary
stalking, seeking to convert
anyone they can get hold of
for them it is a do or die mission
attempting to thrust their faith
upon innocent bystanders passing by
interfering with God-bestowed free will
pursuing their ‘cause’ brazenly in public
what drives them to do this we wonder
as they go around waving posters
pictures, symbols, quotes from scriptures
but the truth of the matter really is
they have not seen God face to face
we apologise if we sound judgmental
but had the religious fundamentalists seen God
they would have realised the simple truth
that He is formless living light and agape love
and we likewise are as He, made in His image
when will the blind stop leading the blind?
Brilliant bright brazen Brazilian Brutus brokered brave
Broomsticks bragging beyond bellowing birch branches
Bypassing bitty bites brought on by bystanders.
Don't betray,
Do be brave,
Draw boundaries,
Delight bystanders
And dance beautifully
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