collaterally speaking...
war is like plowing...
don't like peace...hell!...bomb-plow it:
life...collateral...
With frill-edged petals, in red, white, orange and yellow,
Beauteous daffodils gorgeously gleam and glow;
With long, wide, collaterally aligned leaves stand erect,
Tulips of all colors, as though in beauty so perfect;
Blue urn shaped flowers thrill-filled dancing,
Muscari stands as though glory-glaring;
Nodding with bell-shaped flowers, Lily of the valley,
Stands solemn with its glossy leaves with no folly;
Flowers, indeed, make my spring gloriously great,
My soul, a butterfly midst them, joyfully does elevate;
Their tentativeness, when, my mind alternates,
Rebirth and resurrection, like seeds, in me, germinate...!
07 March 2022
Spring Showers or Spring Flowers Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Thirty years ago, multi-floral rose and
fruit laden wild berry bushes could be
found in abundance everywhere around here.
Native grasses provided shelter
to the ground nesters and the
warm summer nights were filled
with the call of whippoorwills
and of nightingale songs.
Mature walnut trees shared
space with the oaks and hickories-
wildlife had their own place
and pretty much stayed put.
Now, the well-oiled machines of
development have bulldozed most
of the trees and shredded them into
mulch to landscape neatly manicured
lawns that now flourish in place of the
multi-floral rose, wild berries and
native grasses- considered noxious
interlopers-
they have been exterminated,
and collaterally, so too the ground nesters-
the whippoorwill’s call and the nightingale’s
song are silenced.
Remaining wildlife have adapted
by foraging back yards-
turning over garbage pails, raiding bird
feeders, preying on household pets and
grazing those prized manicured lawns,
ironically, causing the real interlopers
much inconvenience, distress
and collateral habitat destruction.
Dance with wind's breezing flow
blowing in as out,
breathing out then in again
hands and feet extremities of life breath's hard felt flow
swimming rich re-connecting rhythmic flight
stance of natural spirits timing
red cardinal patterns perching
heart flight moments
held on fragrant lilac parasols
sun lighting branches
growing down into deep elder grey rivers
of hard-shelled sappy gravity
growing out
glancing in
through flirting eyes without flow
in bearing life's wavey chances
out
Dancing rhythmic breaths
and red blue bloods,
nurture revolving rueful rivers
of sufi EarthDancing
lilac trees with winding sap
from well-souled root systems
flowing life's swirling prance
collaterally cunning
uncapitalized content.
Dancing breath embodied wind
kneading Earth's flee
and flow without
breathless sighted flights
of echoing re-ligious image
flying cardinal reds
through purple dancing
lit up lover lilacs.
Practioner of cons, grifts, & rips.
Swabbing a deck on a sinking ships
Inexorable in persistence
lacking all patience
Or any social boundary
LIE TO ‘GET’ then ‘GONE’
In love at first reflection
Vainglory incarnate/Vulgarly Gauche.
Options eluded but lacking choice.
Chances and trust
with you naturally obliterates.
Narsistic homophobe,
who only can hear
the sound of his own voice.
That superfluous verbal vomit that spills out those lips
(cork that flapping gash on your face)
Your sickness is inaffable,
not cute or funny, but sill laughable.
Come at me as pathos,
poor victims of circumstance.
Every insecurity revealed himself
in each pathetic comment
Collaterally Kidnapped ,
Mentally molested.
Finally finished we lock eyes again,
I grin, and laugh
‘This ones for you Glenn’
media quotes some sources
"a major blow" is said,
and on, and on, they go
high-flying low-res video
of many, many miles below
pressin' technology's clout
to takin' part in takin' out
stamping listed targets
one, to number none gets
to meet oblivion's keeper
Hellfire missiles deemed cheaper
than puttin' brave boys
out where explosive noise is
what would the constituents say?
the press would have a field day!
pointin' fingers, backseat drivers
callin' callous, callin' liars!
they don't know what's out there
they don't think we know, or care
that blowin' up is tearin' down,
an' tearin' down is buildin' up
democratic principle all around
sure hits a terrorist's closeup
- that greyish blur monitored
I'm sure was just a mangy dog
animosity is not what it's about
freedom's beyond any self-doubt
collaterally accept and blot it out
it isn't a old woman, it isn't a kid
know what we know, hidin' what's did
that's why we just keep dronin' on
believin' someday we'll finally have won
© Goode Guy 2013-07-19