Almost a child herself, how will she cope?
Until now everything had labels, expiry dates,
do’s and don’ts, helpful hints, arrow pointing ‘UP’.
But this one was delivered not even marked ‘FRAGILE’.
What will she do? She’ll have to start by giving it a name.
21st Century is Here
Is it good or bad thing?
21st Century is Here
Everyone’s political
anti critical
right by the rights
now wrongly divisional
Giving up the literal
power unconditional
Narratives are narrowly
focused on disparity
comparatively ignorant
to actual reality
You’ll never change the past
try to understand it better
Don’t look passed what made it past
its not your own endeavour
advantages that you now have your ancestors didn’t
branching out from beginnings to a global vision
colonies were empires and empires were common
the way that people were back then has long since been forgotten
so don’t skip over history the path we all come from
everybody’s owed something we need to move along
~ Were you born in the wrong century? ~
Would you have fit in at King Arthur’s table
been a blood-stained Crusader if able
In Rome, been a patrician or plebe
or like Cassius, have a plot up your sleeve
Would you have pondered with Galileo the night sky
or been a ‘flat-earther’ who never asked why
Would you, like Washington, have forded the Delaware
even if you had but moth-eaten rags to wear
Would you have bad-mouthed cars for the sake of your horse
sabotaged phone lines to preserve Samuel Morse…
Well, let me tell you, as for me,
I would have joined Fred and Barney Flintstone
for a ride on a pterodactyl built for three
Ice caps of the northern world
Dew drops of the sovereign world
From North to South shall bear in pair
Holding a cistern in open air
Air ruffles in belts and swear
Fair and in pair that never wear
Storks and beasts circling around
Forks and yeasts bubbling in sound
Meat that thaws in empty shells
Peat that gnaws in cognoscenti wells
Wells of minds that hail on waters
Bells in binds that wail on lathers
Days of light that never end
Rays of night that never bend...
"Age is only a number. Think young, stay young, enjoy life and be thankful. Words I live by." By Poet...
Now come,
let's learn from wisdom.
Sunsets are the doorway to the moon,
ending the day with bright colors.
Memories are made as the moon turns full,
shining down with love.
Wisdom is how we learn,
from the good and bad,
sometimes making us bitter.
Life is short,
so throw the bad and bitter out like cold bath water.
Always remember age is only a number,
fifty is half a century but so what?
I say "Happy Birthday" to the new half century,
Hooray!!!
Welcome to Part 10 of my Mr. Ed series, where we further explore the legacy of this horse, whose influence continues to reverberate through the ages.
Devastated, distracted, what can I do?
The New York Times, read "Made into Glue".
So deep is my remorse,
Mr. Ed, my favorite horse.
A humble soul, he would not talk,
if he had nothing to say when taken to walk.
I speak of Mr. Ed, of course,
a noble man (or horse).
They took him to water, but did they think
that the gentle soul would ever drink
in response to force?
Mr. Ed, my favorite horse.
City of Big Shudders
Once known for Big Shoulders
Powerful barge lost her rudder
Withered… stooped… inexorably older
I spend day and night
every single day
pacing the floors
up and down
thinking of words
and thoughts to scribble down
drains of plenty time
and stamina
away from me
to the point of
letting my body
loose out on more blood than
it is supposed to
my daughter is kowtowing to her piano tutor as he leaves our home,
which is a bit much
there's no need to turn on the heating in the car
as it takes too long to heat up, so let's save the battery
the sky was looking like it had just attended a funeral,
which is a simile stolen from a student's homework
i've folded up forty pairs of socks as an art piece
and at the jazz club i must begin the applause for the solos
does anyone own a battery powered travel hair dryer?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Born in era of
rotary phones and
Western Union telegrams,
my fingers now dance
on glass—no dial tone~
a frequent user of Facetime.
I carry the memory
and weight
of paper maps,
while satellites whisper
turn left, turn back.
My hands remember card catalogs,
my breath still holds
the scent of old book glue,
but my eyes keep adjusting
to the glare of forever screens.
My fingers recollect
the shudder of a manual typewriter
as it punched its teeth
into the blank white throat of tomorrow.
I recall when cloud meant rain,
when stream was a small river with fish.
Now my hands ache from phantom keyboards,
my dreams buffer between decades.
I am a bridge, a relic, a traveler,
carrying the 20th century
like loose change in my pocket,
spending it carefully
in this bright,
impatient 21st century.
War, just war in every century
War, just war everywhere
Can’t stop the demon
Can’t stop in us
Can’t stop
Never
Gone
Off
Ghost
On
>> true love, please.
[ERROR]unable to retrieve file 'true'
>> fine, then just love.
[ERROR]file 'love' can’t exist without 'true'
>> …just happiness, then.
[ERROR]requires connection to server 'live'
Iridescent against sand and stone
Lies and battle cries
California fields sundered and sterile
Networks of new wars
Hungry feed the gas lamps and hollow
Walls and eyes
Eye circles of influencers and titans in free fall
Self-defining nano gods rush to the cistern, dry as bone
Breathe deep pregnant age
Show us now our modern home
May 24, 2025
The emperors have no clothes on!
People are living in a trance
Psychologists like to call it cognitive dissonance
Perhaps even a carefully crafted chance
To see what isn't there, only to praise a hollow show,
While truth and reason disappear, common senses go.
It’s just simply a situation gone sad
I can’t help but wonder, have we been had or merely gone mad
The people fear to break the silent spell, to voice a single doubt
For they are to be canceled, labeled rebels or terrorists, and quickly cast about
Instead, they applaud the phantom apparel, with oblivious, hypnotic cheer,
Ignoring empathetic whispers in their hearts, that scream truth so clear.
But chatty whispers grow to rumbling cries, a stirring overcomes the digital crowd,
Suddenly, an innocent video, goes viral, distinct and loud.
"The emperors have no clothes on!"
An echo filmed of pure bravery
Hopefully, others will follow, setting truths to be viral and free
Reject conformity and fight for sovereignty
For all to hear and see
The emperors have no clothes on!
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