You swing onto the ramp of anticipation
then sputter and stall, deceleration
March, thy name is frustration
Your southern breezes arise and tease
‘til night plunges the ground in deep-freeze
March, your late frosts displease
Your rains help the leaves start to bud
then your snows turn frail flowers to duds
March, your name I spell M-U-D
Categories:
deceleration, spring, weather, winter,
Form: Rhyme
It descended hard and hot -
must have been a rookie,
flaps oscillating mightily
correcting overcorrections,
undercarriage lowered and high angled
wings up and wide
spread out for maximum deceleration.
If there had been a computer on-board
it would have been repeating:
"too low - too low,
terrain-pull-up, terrain pull-up!"
but
there was just a solo goose brain at the controls,
and landing on ice in low visibility is always tricky
even for professional flyers.
It came in fast,
no chance of aborting the landing now,
no time for last moment adjustments,
webs touching down, then lifting up
as the impact jolted it airwards again,
Touch-down, yawing badly,
wings now beating the air wildly,
somehow
the bird keeps a shaky balance
as it slews and skids to a rocking half.
The goose immediately
starts preening and shaking-out its tail feathers
as if to say:
"nothing to see here."
The other geese in that same flight
honking loudly,
hard to say if they were cheering
or jeering.
Categories:
deceleration, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Senile Age
I am worst than the dirt
you step aside from,
so as not to get your shoes dirty,
more or less your mind.
I am old and senile,
a bald head
filled with rancid ignorance.
Ghosts and goblins has invaded,
becoming my pals.
A phenomenon of deceleration.
I became cloistered
from myself.
Nothing worth anyone’s effort.
So just go.
Go far away,
and let me ramble in my err.
recurrences I cannot rid myself of.
Leave me or you will become me.
©Al Juman The "Said" Poet 4/20/2022
Categories:
deceleration, 12th grade, age, anxiety,
Form: Free verse
Memo To The Cosmos
Speak softly to your children in their billions
Burning stars and planets planted in the dark
Avoid the void with colors you created
Started in the garden of your heart
Watered with the tears of ages parted there
Shared with the cosmic dust in their parade of days
The Great Animator of antimatter who made us all
Calls to you on the winds in angular momentum
Remember to always care
Absolute zeroes walk hand in hand
Deceleration parameters of the dark matter clamor
Cajole all things from nothing, shakes them into life
Remember cosmos, to close your eyes
In the explosions, reds and whites, blinding lights
Knit them into place
Ponder nuclear fission
House the gravity of souls with every hour
Sit on the emission distance. String the theories
Stitch them together
Inertia reminds you where you are today
Drift with it in silent vectors distance
Take inertia to heart
To the stars, to your little ones, your little heroes
Calculated by their zeroes
Take this memo to the Cosmos
Be light
Try not to be absorbed while being born
Categories:
deceleration, age, beautiful, creation, philosophy,
Form: Didactic
Jet,
yeas, it is mean clearly full ahead,
helicopter,
well, another oddly iron Robocopter.
But look for dragonfly
for his camouflaged flying
when he chased the flies and mosquitoes
and others supersensitive and artful pilots.
He is moved absolutely disorderedly
and unexplainable,
full ahead and full back
and topsy-torvy,
with instant accelerating
and the same deceleration,
from great speed
to complete stoppage on air
(as a crawling tiger on grasses
when a gout turn to backward) ,
creating fantastic maneuvers and tricks in 3D
of the blissful summers performance
on the edge of lake, hear me,
it’s the figures of greatest pilotages
said practiced aviators
from MIGs, Hornets and Phantoms
and other airs strikers and predators.
Categories:
deceleration, nature,
Form: Verse