The Smithy works the tools until he's finished what is made
By sapients and fools and all purveyors of the trade
Hammering what's been heated until it's finally wrought
Into what has been crafted into finely finished thought
The sweat that gathers on the brow of crafty and of clueless
Will only come to light somehow when posted for the viewless
In hope someone will stumble into this thoughtful snare
Arresting thoughtful moments from all who wander there
I think I must be mentally sick.
I look into my psyche - ick,
to think I would even pick
the Dodgers to win in four.
C-oncern
A-nd
R-egard
M-ake
E-ach
L-ife
I-mportant
T-o
A-ll
M-en,
A-s
N-o
G-iver
I-s
L-eft
A-ll
Y-ear
A-lone
©bfa051625
Monocrostic (Birthday of Carmelita C. Mangilaya)
Then what's tomorrow
That I am without you
to scramble through a day
That you are gone
What for tonight
Might I might
Find you
That I might meet you
For us to carry on
In the world
Where we are neither
Complicated by such
Trust
Until then when I might
Meet you
I'll be alone
Until it's us
Then when we
Should cum together
Might we look to
The morrow days
Should we speak
Kind of one another
And might
We both behave
You're the pupil of my eye
You're the sun up in the sky
You're the moon aglow at night
You're the beauty in a sight
You're the lady overseas
You're the cool part of a breeze
You're the beat inside my heart
You're the fineness of the art
You're the love that's in the song
You're the whom of who I long
You're the meaning of lovely
You're the all of all to me
One magazine published a poem in its front page
And asked readers to read and comment about it
Many declared the poem to be a wonderful stuff
And applauded the poet as a number one genius
In this way, many comments were given about the poem
And at last the magazine declared the secret behind it,
It took the first line from each page of the magazine
And concocted a poem to give it as a poem for all
One greatest Tamil poet went to read poetry in a gathering
He gave his poem to an ordinary poet and took latter's poem
For that man, none clapped and listened absolutely silently
They clapped for the poem read by the greatest poet grandly
The greatest poet told all the exchange of poems made
And told them that they were giving importance to fame
The entire audience kept quiet for their wrong praising
The poet requested them to keenly observe before praising!
Noax and American Concrete
Bought the rights to
Packard Motors ,
Studebaker, Duesberg Motors
and are looking to expand the company.
It's believe ambitious and prosperous
invested wish to invest and sell the
new company, to gain a huge profit.
Merger movement! Aquisition, Recreate.
restore and sell.
The flipping market of aquisition!
The impossible things of former
and current position , bought future the
Reestaishon of current conditions.
In mind of all things considered.
Coalescent compromises confound
Complimentary conundrums creating
Criminal cranial collapses compiling
Complete catastrophic complications.
Caution-------Cafe Cacophony closed.
Almost everything in the world has become false
it proves how far twisted normal practice has developed
most of society having lost its moral compass refuse to see
At what point will they awaken to the truth
and highlight something sinister at work
We the few cannot understand this unexplained occurrence
that baffles even the soul
Santa’s in lockdown, he’s not very happy
The reindeer are restless and now getting scrappy
The elves are all sitting and nibbling their nails
The sleigh is just sat there, no wind in its sails
So Christmas is gone, it’s this year’s last day
He sits all alone in the back of the sleigh
He’s had a few gins so whilst it’s not wise
He’s taking her up... if she still flys
He hitches the sleigh to the reindeer and sighs
As they gallop away into overcast skies
He looks back behind him and briefly he lingers
To give twenty twenty two stiff middle fingers
Have you ever considered where wealth comes from?
When in our history had wealth begun?
Is it a man-made concept, which has become
The fabric of our existence beneath our sun?
Yet consider a man, left all alone
On our planet, no object did he not own;
Where is the wealth? How could it be shown?
With no one to compare he is worthless, as a stone.
Wealth only exists if we can compare
Against our fellow man, with whom we share
An existence, though we must be aware,
Wealth is an illusion; that is our despair.
Considered Ourselves To Be Emphatic
Considered ourselves to be emphatic;
We would definitely become a fanatic;
As you thought;
Were caught
Not consistent but sporadic and erratic.
Jim Horn
LUST IS AS ILL-CONSIDERED A WEED
AS EVER STOLE SCENT
Rejected in the main as superstition -
A gadfly, I’m alone upon the weed:
A hot cinquefoil brooding on position,
Declared intent of being in need of screed -
Now the subject of each idle bee
Gorged already, needing a restful stop
What if his gyrations bring to me
No true syncopation of a honeyed hop?
Beauty – not recognised as such – I wonder
Why man and woman excavate a flower garden
Tear my fertility, so they may squander
Wild possibility, and the earth around me harden.
Can the joy I have before I’m torn asunder
Be worth it when they never ask my pardon?
(C) Rosemarie Rowley
For his fifth birthday, Heathcliff
Received a toy sword and sheath
With bubble mixture inside from
His absent-minded Uncle Keith.
It seemed an ideal gift.
Heathcliff tingled with pride,
Blowing heavenly bubbles
In the lugholes of his relations,
As they beamed with adult adoration
For a child achieving the easily achievable.
But twenty six years on, at sea,
Heathcliff was besieged by pirates
With six foot sabres gleaming
Like stainless steel cutlery.
Alas, our hero's bubble sword
Offered poor protection.
An Uncle's birthday bungling
Had doomed the lad to bloody vivisection.
When doubt is the only option considered. Than doubt shall be the only result to
prevail.
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