What do I wish for my wild heart?
In this trail is the finest art.
That is why I am almost there
With Lydian lyre and lore, or more
Cher sings her effectuated soul,
Discerning hearts excite the whole.
Bugs Bunny loves his carrot treat—
outsmarts his foes with swift, wily feet.
“eh, what’s up, doc?”—his cheeky call,
a clever bunny loved by all.
Poet’s Note:
Inspired by Bugs Bunny’s famous 1940 line, “Eh, what’s up, doc?”.
(\(\
(-.-)
o_(")(") Eh, what’s up, doc?
?
. * .
( ) ( )
( ) ( )
) ( ) (
( ) ( )
) ( ) ( *
________________
| |
| CAULDRON |
|________________|
a witch with a grumpy face,
grinning in her shadowed place.
“Fire burn, and cauldron bubble,”
she cooks up mischief-- trouble, and trouble!
* . * .
Poet's Note:
Inspired by timeless folklore and Shakespeare’s famous chant, “Fire burn, and cauldron bubble,” I wanted to bring out the fun and eerie sides of witchcraft.
Goldilocks and the three bears,
The story is a classic.
But one idea came to mind,
What if she was made of plastic?
With lips so swollen
And cheeks so bloated
She was red and shiny
And was very coated.
The bears that came saw the porridge,
They searched and found Goldilocks.
Screaming and fearful, they ran away
Because she had a very scary Botox.
The lady had her day
Of bright lips and mystery
In summer she was Muskeg
Each winter a monsoon
It was as monet
Her refusal to weep
And had my courtship
Proven less lissome
If I had not cast lots
With vagabonds and dreadnaughts
Then perhaps, say I, perhaps
Time would not be vain
And the lady
Still ever vivid in circumstance
And moon fall
"Sunsets are so beautiful that they almost seem as if we were looking through the gates of heaven."
— John Lubbock
I stand watching the salmon sun set,
It's as beautiful as it can get,
Nothing more divine discovered yet,
Heaven's classic everyday vignette.
On Super Bowl Night, there was no joy in Kansas City.
Nearly all Chiefs fans were overwhelmed with despondency.
The tight end for the team was Travis Kelce.
His face prominently displayed utter melancholy.
As the Eagles powered their way and ran up the score,
Travis looked like a little boy lost in a department store.
His teammates all appeared to be feeling the same way,
as the Eagles held up the Lombardi trophy for display.
The game played in New Orleans was over and done.
Their plane flight home could not have been a cheerful one.
high up in the trees
birds stare down poised to attack
black and white terror
great white shark circling
silent deadly predator...
need a bigger boat
in the Bates Motel
psycho killer qu'est-ce que c'est...
don't tell your mother
Just because television is a bore
writing a poem is less a chore
I can live in a scribble where words soar
Minds that ripple the universe forevermore
Because I am envious of your style
Yours is limitless like silver smile
You are cool like a sculptured rock
Turquoise jewel of classic hip hop
Because I think too much all the time
And want your attention is that a crime
I have no privacy in my purple pages
For ink bleeds are my sacrificial sages
Because you are dark and I am light
Within our red hearts we unite
You build bridges despite dilemma and frown
You lift others up when they are down
Because you've been hungry you feed others
Because not for religion but for the brothers
You march to the beat of your own drum
Because you do others are inspired to come
You think outside the box
You were born from classic rock
Because there is music in your walk
We all lose it when you talk
Because your words can bring peace
Like black bird with a song to sing
Your ancestors were kings queens unique
I love your swag and black destiny
in the 1940s many movie comedies dealt with heaven
hell, reincarnation, the devil, angels, body snatching
I get a channel called Classic Reel with my Roku
The movies shown are from the 30’s, 40’s, 50’s and 60’s
I saw three of these shows this week
the one about hell was spooky in black and white
maybe more creepy than if it had been in color
they were plausible, warm, and witty
I got reintroduced to Betty Grable, Betty Hutton
Bob Hope, Bing Cosby, and Jimmie Stewart
They were intriguing shows, amusing
I was not bored, I was intrigued
Plots much more entertaining than today’s movies
The tortuous and hare timeless story
a vain hare assumed his automatic glory.
He made the mistake of assuming time a friend,
while the slow but ever moving tortuous
made his way to the race end!
~ Cogito, ergo sum. ~
I cogitate ere
I go to
Wherever I am
I am a classic wine, brewed to last the taste of time,
A vintage soul, in the rhythm of life's sweet rhyme.
Uncork the years, let memories pour and swirl,
Each sip, a tale, in this celebratory twirl.
Unapologetic in essence, like a bold red blend,
A symphony of moments, from start to end.
In the cellar of experience, aged to perfection,
A celebration of life, a joyous resurrection.
Raise a glass to the years, like bubbles in flight,
I am the melody of moments, dancing through the night.
With each passing age, I gain a richer hue,
A tapestry of lessons, each one tried and true.
So here's to the journey, to the laughter and tears,
I am a classic wine, echoing through the years.
Not A Classic Poet
I write with meter, like to rhyme;
Start lines with Capitals, make phrases chime.
But quickly clear it is that I’m
Not a classic poet.
Not Wordsworth, Coleridge or Poe
Not Browning, Plath nor Longfellow.
I’ve never read a Shakespeare, so
I’m not a classic poet.
Though aiming to be conscientious
I lack the urge to be pretentious.
And though occasionally tendentious,
I’m not a classic poet.
Sometimes I have been known to wander,
But rarely do I walk and ponder
Mother Earth or what’s beyond her.
I’m not a classic poet.
Some call my writing superficial,
Their view of it quite prejudicial.
I understand their curt dismissal.
I’m not a classic poet.
“Why write at all?” you may enquire.
Well usually it’s just desire
To pen some words, however dire.
I’m not a classic poet.
And so, with little sense of wonder
No fantasies to labour under
Through rhyming minefields still I’ll blunder.
I’m not a classic poet!
he gazed at her face
and immediately juxtaposed two divergent elements,
the sun and the moon
in contrast to her smile that glowed with radiance
just like the sun,
her dine eyes symbolising the moon
held a pinch of melancholic charm in them
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