snow loudly crunched
on my bittersweet walk
through yesteryear made memories
of my brother and me
in snowball wars
I carried the unsaid words
In the graveyard of sin
The land covered with snow
crunched with every step I took
Black and white roses rested on some tombs
While some were left abandoned
I reached an empty grave
And buried the words
With deep secrets
I engraved a name on the tomb
And placed my roses
I heard someone leave the graveyard
On the tomb behind me
I walked over and saw
Black roses resting near it
Both the tombs had the same name engraved
Both of them said
The truth
Cockroach scurries by
on the spongy forest floor
leaf-to-leaf he crunched
MY DUST
My dust I shall have spread
Into a flowered terrace bed
Or into the staffs of a music score
But I shall not choose anything more
That it shall ever go
Into the black earth for weeds to grow
Crunched under shoes or wagon wheels
With the smell of horse dung on its heels
I was a potato type of guy, forget the cookies and carrots,
didn't believe in Santa nor Cinderellas with golden chariots .
Twas' late at night as I crunched my chips I watched TV
lo and behold what did I hear ? a large thump and a humf,
coming from the chimney, Oh Dear !
He stomped and he clomped then he said to me,
" You live like a pigster and where is your sister ?
clean up your place, what the Hee! "
He held up a sock and my heart went KerPlunk
as I watched him remove all my favorite junk...
He then gave me a card that was both soft and hard
dipped in gold. It was lanced with a sweet magical stance.
He then waited and hummed as he Jingle Belled some
"It's time for my pension" he said, then he paused.
"Guess what ol' chap, you've been Sanctity Claused !"
Summer sun burning
Blazing azure sky
Scorched tawny meadow
Pallid hues of trees
Tanned people on beach
Heat of long day
Lethargic spell
Sunset relief
Pull of cold treats
Birds chirping
Hot wind blow
Dry leaves crunched
Mango
Ice cream
Chill
A crisp brown leaf from the sycamore tree
Silently fell to the ground
It gently lay down amidst more of its kind
Having landed with no hint of sound
How could it know of the silence required
To survive through the night in these woods
I’d crunched one such leaf underfoot in my haste
And fell prey to the people in hoods
The moon though dim, waxing gibbous, I think
Throws monochrome shades in the night
Against this old oak I am helpless and tied
There’s no escape, try as I might
What did they mean, “That’s her gluttony sated”?
No woman I see hereabout
My knees feel weak as shrivelled leaves crunch
And they fail as that dull moon…… goes out
I went for a walk through the woods, like I do each Fall;
for it's a sensual treat at this time of year.
And I came across a grove of ancient oak trees,
shedding amber, yellow, and golden leaves;
gilding the ground, like scattered nuggets of gold.
The air smelt of Autumn, an earthy-sweet musk;
cool, crisp, and invigorating.
A chattering chipmunk scolded me incessantly:
as I neared a knurled stump, it was guarding;
loudly chastising me for invading its space.
The ground crunched and crackled under my feet,
as I walked on a bedding of filigreed leaves;
resembling a golden fleece.
As brisk breezes rippled through swaying treetops:
their bare branches rattled like skeleton bones.
Indulging my inner child, I fashioned an Autumn Angel;
spreading and swiping my arms and legs,
I sculpted an Angel out of leaves instead of snow.
And I lay there awhile smiling, soaking in Nature's magnificence;
immersed in the grandeur and beauty of Fall.
pitter patter drips drops and plops
blathers blatters splatters sploshes and drips
bitter twitter twatters and twaddles, flips and flops
chitter chatter babbles claptrap baas and blahs
slithering sliding slues, slips and skips
blotches mottles splotches and spots scars and mars
splutter flutter splatter clatters, a kick-started motorcar
crunched cracked munched and punched the whacked gears strips
hipping and hopping, skipping and bop bop bopping, we're not going far
Summer- embraced, like a returning friend-
from a distant land. Here warmth descends-
here, she’s standing at the green fence.
Listen- Summer’s chipping off her snack-
rain and leaves crunched, with the cracks,
incessantly- stirring a nostalgic hunger’s lack.
Summer & melancholic hopers/the night eaters
in awakened dreams that have a bygone savor
of love & loss becoming- temporary painkillers.
Little face crunched up with a good loud cry
welcome new baby good to be alive
As there ever a face so sweet and complete
as a sad eye dog begging for a treat
Or cunning and sly as a cat's grin
that face assured it will win
Face of a boy surprised in glee
first home run hit running bases with speed
A girl's face overcome with joy and tears
seeing absent army dad in her classroom appears
Face of stoic confidence leading his team
to a come from behind victory crowd roaring in screams
A face weigh down by pain and sorrow
heavy love's loss with the emptiness of tomorrow
Fear in the eyes with mouth wide open
shock of fright unable to let a scream be spoken
Face of love glowing with passion and desire
that sparks a heart to burn deep with fire
That face in the mirror smiling back at you
not bad for a long life and all you been through
The face of eternal sleep at rest
peaceful with the calm of death.
First buds emerge in velvet cocoons
As dank, dark mornings transform
Into frost clad, bright, clean-aired dawns.
Grass laden heavy with dew,
Nectar of nature to sustain awakening creatures.
From deepest winter slumbers,
To drink deep the anticipation held in each drop.
Static in the air, in our hair, as crunched grasses
Make way for warming days, milky moons,
And pearlescent sun shards melting
The cold of winter soil.
Grass, long since recoiled after long summer
Parching, burnt and bruised,
Now tender and sweet, shoots pushing
Up through the loamy layers of frost bitten ground.
The scents of spring, almost imperceptible
Yet nonetheless I feel them set my belly to flight
The excitement for some unknown event,
As though a celebratory feast,
Honoured to be invited to.
Tingling in extremities, no longer from cold
But now in joy, in pleasure,
In the fruitfulness we know to come to pass,
When spring finally announces her arrival
Once more.
Panda took a bite of the new bamboo
It was fresh and green, but there was a goo
What kind of crud is this? He asked sky of blue
Sky laughed at his consternation, wouldn’t you?
“This new bamboo is as tasty as a tennis shoe!”
He was joined by two cousins, Little Lee and Lu.
They crunched down onto the new green bamboo
This tastes horribly gummy like wallpaper glue!
Hey! Come here! They yelled to Aunt Booby Boo.
She ran right over and said “quit kidding, you!”
Why are you eating the prop put out here by Sue?
Tearing it apart, and eating out the glue?
This irritated Panda, Little Lee and unlovely Lu.
They growled and groused the entire day through.
How did we not see it was plastic? Asked Lu from the dew.
They had no answers, the other cousins, two.
on Tuesday the candy canes danced off the shelf
I almost got run over by a screaming running elf.
Where is the head baker? He asked without apology.
Watch where you are going! I yelped to that arrogant he.
Then I saw something horrific for myself.
Those striped candy canes had all danced off the shelf.
They were doing the tango, and macarena too.
I almost crunched two of them with my left shoe.
Where is Santa? I yelled as I left Candy Cane hall.
Candy canes are going wild, their personalities so tall!
Some of them followed me out the door which I forgot to shut.
Santa chastised me for this, when I finally reached his hut.
Caramel fudge
is particularly nice
and consumed with delight
is gone in a trice
bananas however
although quite sublime
only get eaten
but one at a time
strawberries face a different demise
commonly held in highest esteem
are nevertheless
devoured by the bowlful smothered in cream
whilst a juicy ripe orange
when removed from its peel
whether eaten or juiced
to a thirst is surreal
not forgetting the apple
enjoyed in its skin
and crunched in big bites
is no longer a sin.
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