Recalling the bicentennial of 1976
celebrations galore, folks yearning for more
Not as many festivities in 2026
those that were, considerably muted
Alongside the cheers, a chorus of boos
What say you? ~ Did you notice too?
The cat sat on the …er… rug
(He thought the mat would be too obvious)
Snarling and spitting at the … dog,
Who sat there totally omniferous.
He reckoned a Rotweiler shouldn’t be intimidated
By a mere cat; but it gets complicated.
When the feline suddenly said “ha ha ha,”
The canine remembered he was only a Chihuahua
And that the cat was considerably bigger.
In fact it was a Bengal Tiger!
All this occurred in Devon.
I wonder if Chihuahuas go to heaven.
Years ago, in Budapest,
I bought ceramic mugs
As presents for my son and wife;
They thanked me and gave hugs.
The pottery was quite unique;
I bought some for myself,
Which sits there in my kitchen
On a front-and-center shelf.
I couldn’t carry too much home
But always did regret
I didn’t buy myself a mug
(Or two, to make a set).
Yet since that time, my son has bought
Ceramics of his own.
His coffee cup collection
Has considerably grown.
The gift mugs are no longer used;
They’re stored way out of sight.
I knew if they were on display,
They’d bring me great delight.
Could I possibly reclaim them?
It’s a practice that’s taboo
(Which I’m well-aware my title,
Very not P.C., is, too).
But my son was very gracious –
Wrapped them so they wouldn’t break
And they’re hanging in my kitchen now,
Correcting my mistake.
I won’t do this again
Though I am glad I had the nerve
To speak up, for these two mugs
Bring out my smiles on reserve.
Removing the 'u' from 'Aussie' pares its chassis down to a 'chassie' ...
sits well and nearly out of reach unless.
A spell is when it's open dirty, but is closed.
Oil soaked around the bend the elbow is.
The smell around the bushes how they do.
A little stunted here and there you know because.
Oil-soaked, where gas is sold, soaked coal oil rags.
Patches on the asfhalt black translucency.
Pumping, pumping, pump the moving evening dress.
One cut above the knee becomes her considerably.
The motel in the lobby by the pump the awning shows.
A woman pumping gass beneath the moon is full.
The window shows her face, it really can not be it is.
What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.
And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.
Naysayers bleat I'm just an empty ship,
With lights and streamers pretending to be hip,
Without a cargo or destination clear,
Sailing in circles relying on the wind to steer.
But if we're given to analogies, what if I were a Trojan horse,
With clear intent and undisputed course,
Where guile and purpose rule the day,
The aim to soundly win not merely one to play.
Demean and underrate me at your peril,
I can pivot between angel and pure devil,
While my laugh is designed to be disarming,
It masks a side of me considerably less charming.
Everything I've wanted I've achieved,
A trajectory few would have believed,
Do you think I'll stop at this last jump,
And in so doing fully flatten Trump?
Doesn’t seem if I understand anymore
Things I considerably understood
I don’t visit the places I used to know
Don’t think what’s evil and what is good
Sad and done, still I play my part
According to the predetermined text
Too much of events around, I depart
Don’t want to know what will come next
Not that I’m full of something important
Or I am overtly empty inside
Not that I want to do what I’m potent
To do, and I don’t, cause something I hide
But a massive tiredness of all this
Consumes me like Jonah was by the whale
I give up, despite that something I miss
Anyway it would lead to a stale.
If I were queen I would banish my enemies I said
But you are the queen of yourself, right? Asked Fred.
He might be my brother but his point was well-taken.
I should take care of my royalty, if I am not mistaken.
So I began banishing those who lied to my face.
I tossed them out of my life, with no explanation or grace
Fred made me angry, and I tried to banish him too.
But I am your brother he whined, please reconsider, Sue!
I now regularly update my friends and banish the others.
I have gotten rid of some annoying fathers and mothers.
Being the queen of my cellphone has helped considerably.
I block those who whine or annoy me any way miserably.
Fey leaf cloaks are being created by faerie artisans in the midst of the veil
Maple tree is smiling, recognizing many of the offerings from his own limbs
Sycamore takes credit for a few, as does elm, but fir tree is silent
Thinking his offerings are not good enough, is something wrong with him?
It is not you, he is reassured by robin, you are my salvation in the winter.
The other trees offer me no coverage whatsoever, I count on you.
This cheers him up considerably, as he watches the witches’ movements.
They parade through the forest in their ethereal finery of tangerines and browns
Fey leaf cloaks are being created by faerie artisans in the midst of the veil
Maple tree is smiling, recognizing many of the offerings from his own limbs
Sycamore takes credit for a few, as does elm, but fir tree is silent
Thinking his offerings are not good enough, is something wrong with him?
It is not you, he is reassured by robin, you are my salvation in the winter.
The other trees offer me no coverage whatsoever, I count on you.
This cheers him up considerably, as he watches the witches’ movements.
They parade through the forest in their ethereal finery of tangerines and browns
In the valley, one has been moaning considerably, extensive
for an amount of time, these constraints have possession of
one's emotions, affairs, and partnerships from all walks of
life, there will be chronicles of ups and downs, profits, and losses.
Ya'll it's been immeasurably a refutable volume of time, it's
becoming apparently, one is emerging, circulating fully of
fervor, hyperventilating, brims over, sobs echoes, screamingly
outcries, one's coming out of these days of low frequencies
treading the valleys.
A New World Question
Now —
It must be asked— seriously —
How despised is hatred?
Hating hatred?
Who? When? Where? How?
What…to do about that? The ways
Of feeling — totally pondered — so
Considerably needed for
Actions sculpted
To fit a better, newer, whole world —
——. ———————— —————-
(c)sally young eslinger 5/17/22
Thanks be to God
Calling forth of poets
The boxer and the actor
I saw them on the sidewalk near The Radio music Hall
in New York, Jack was telling Alan a joke
Jack Dempsey wore a sport’s jacket, brown trousers
a white shirt’s open, top button open
shiny shoes; Alan Ladd, wore a grey suit, with matching
tie (Everyone had shiny shoe trainers not yet invented)
I noticed he was considerably smaller than Jack.
I was in awe had never seen someone famous
life and up close; this was, in 1957, I was so young.
I bought a ticket to see the show at the music hall
before the movie dancing girl came to the stage
with live music and plenty of thighs.
The final was a big kick a woman got it wrong
she kicked with her left leg when she realized her mistake
shifted to the right leg; too late, the music had stopped
but with one leg still in the air, it was what I remember.
Borrow us a pilgrimage back to a time,
When the barn was our home...
Then; Adunni's beauty wasn't her doom
Today, Responsibilities hound me away from promises...the treaties I made
That I won't ever leave your shadows, how much more you.
Let us run through circus, for cosmic molecules we are,
Shattering imaginations and love, and then lies too
Now on that pendulum, I watch my tomorrow,
Wide mouth agape, for fear of troubles and:
considerably more penury!!!
Timor Mortis conturbate me, my maker; and
Like Catherine in Heathcliff's eyes,
Everywhere I turn, I see their ghosts, with justifications why they shouldn't have ended up with me...
We aren't losers, but strugglers of time and uncertainty; I hope you hear me, lad!!!!
And;
Now I understand what responsibilities mean...
Itunumi-Solace
For love and lies.
My imagination ran shamelessly amok last night
While I slumbered in beaded sweat, askance that I would
Be peddling ornate coffins to the absurdly rich, then
Second handing them to poorer souls for paltry profit.
After black-draped mourners departed for sumptuous feasts
I heaved their unboxed tuxedoed beloved into the pit
And shoveled them over head to foot with yellow clay.
No shame ensuing, I wiped down the shiny satin interior
Erasing telltale vestiges of the recently deceased occupant
Loaded the ornamental bronze, a considerably less-weighty box,
Into the back of my somber black Cadillac hearse
And laughing lustily sped away…, then I awakened.
reposted December 16, 2021
written December 8, 2020
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