And what, other than a God, should say
why days begin and nights enfold?
Could any sun, rightly, determine such a
bright thing,
with his blushing moon, while on a typical
night-fling? Perhaps a depth-sea, on a map flat,
bragging lifts of surf its tides, should determine where
and when, day rises or hides?
Maybe continents of mighty slips and slides,
would sufficiently declare if day lights~ thus
illuminatingly abides?
Independent of a God could man learn to reign
totally Free, each his own crucifixion
then clemency? Best that a God continues to keep all course,
determining when light to dark is lost. Myself included
judged by degree~ how Fahrenheit or centigrade a soul’s
eternity.
throats parched as the desert sand
eyes blistered by the heat
dunes rise higher, wind’s illusions
oases shimmer in minds’ delusions
camels perfume the air, left and right
50 degrees centigrade, even at night
welcome to the Kalahari or the Sahara
deep discounts available on gypsy mascara
The Ballad of H2O (International Version)
He reached his boiling point at one hundred degrees.
When he dropped to zero, he would freeze.
Everything he did, he did just like he oughter,
(in Centigrade) - that's water!
The Ballad of H2O (US Version)
Arriving at two-twelve Fahrenheit,
his roiling bubbles gave steaming flight,
but descending South to thirty-two,
he froze in his tracks. What could he do?
It's 42 Degree Centigrade. The moon
shines hotly in Dammam.
Indians and Filipinos bathe
in soak of sweats.
Grinding their teeth
of desolation and contemplation.
One thought of going
the other is still
In dilemma of decision.
Winter came.
All of a sudden.
February 2019.
Snow, snow, snow
Rarely seen in Vancouver.
But it happens.
Snow comes
As though Mother Nature
Is enraged
By man's uncaring soul.
Uncaring to ecology,
Uncaring to emissions
That kill all of nature.
Winter, white winter,
Snow falling.
Beautiful but bitter,
Bitter cold, minus 8 centigrade.
I am a peacock preening feathers
So you might not notice
How slight I really am.
Maintain this sheen make it gleam
Lest it betray my fear
Of prying eyes
From fiendish spies.
So many layers built upon
For year after year after year
I don’t remember the colour
Of my own natural skin.
There are few and far between
That see me as I am,
When days length gives way
To evenings hold and nights sway,
All the shimmer and shine
Of my prized plumage
Means nothing in the dark.
The fear of being known
As well of being unknown
Keeps me painted today,
Now you know my secret
Seen the crack in my veneer,
When twilights comes
And the brilliance of the sun
Angles just right I’ll see yours too.
Wear your flaw proudly
It’s what makes you different
Not just another zoo attraction
Be a rebel a renegade
Choose to boil or freeze
No matter the centigrade.
It is forty degree centigrade
Scorching heat everywhere
Tap Water almost boils
Heatwaves in the air
The leaves on the roadside
Have withered to sickly brown
Fewer people on the roads
Hot summer day in the town
Only people who rejoice
Are sherbet vendors in the streets
Chilled fruit-drinks they sell
Under cheap plastic sheets
And there is another group
Who enjoy their game every whit
They are the young children
Whether they win or lose it
From the very morning
They have played soccer
In almost empty pavement
In terrible heat a shocker
Now they are exhausted
Need plenty of water to bathe
In water supply at their home
They haven't much faith
Innovative in whatever they do
Now they open a hydrant pipe
Water gushes out in speed
Soon the issue is a hype
To their heart's content they
Lavish themselves with water
Splashing sound of hydrant flow
Mingles with the booming laughter
People come out of office buildings
At the excitement of the day
Smile and say to one another
‘Didn't we play the same way’
September 7, 2017
Had Become A Humanitarian
Most difficult subject I took was grammar
They had to pound it in hard with a hammer
Then tried to take math and only result
For me, I determined it was to difficult.
History through ages had been revealing
To brilliant me was boring and not appealing
Physics continually was confusing and profound
I never enjoyed or liked having it around.
Chemistry once was a course chosen by me
Positive and negative electrons could not see
Part was reaction resulting from a chain
Of events that had left me lying in pain.
I forgot about Fahrenheit and centigrade
Why it did become cooler in the dark shade
Studied much harder so I could learn a lot
Some said I ended up being hot to trot.
So has my big ego confused you by now
And writing poems I'm still learning how
People are horrible and became a humanitarian
Like animals better now and am a veterinarian.
(Who was a vegetarian.)
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
http://www.poetrysoup.com/member_area/edit_my_poem.aspx?PoemID=697793
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