There are time capsules in the rural Mid-West,
not retro constructs, but temporal dislocations
that remain as was,
for lack of a reason to be other.
Small town restaurants are steeped
in a comfortable inertia;
diners serve
all broasted, broiled and breaded everything.
Amish noodles nestle in thick white bowls.
There are still drive-in movies
where movies once missed
can be missed again.
We have bars where the jukebox is not a junk box
but a wood and chrome depository
for long archived selections.
Beer here is brewed as brawny
as rolled-up forearms.
We’re futuristic in a plaid and dilatory way.
We are post-modern Jetson reruns,
we dwell just West of the middle of tomorrow.
I am filled with life-giving properties.
Without these minerals, life would not exist.
I am a natural depository for gold and silver.
I am hard; I am soft; I am rough; I am smooth.
I am continents, oceans, seas, rivers, and lakes.
I am hot; I am cold; I am old; I am EARTH.
Like humans, I consist of many parts, but
The most visible components are land and water.
The moon revolves around me, and if the moon
were closer to me, I would freeze.
I revolve around the sun, and if I were
closer to the sun, I would burn up.
I am not complete without WATER.
Actually, I consist mostly of WATER.
I and WATER have learned to get along.
Like humans, we must live together or die apart.
When humans drop a seed or plant inside of me,
If they are to live, grow, and thrive, I call upon WATER
to help me. Otherwise, both the plant and seed would die.
Sonnet is not an infidel depository,
how can one be infidel to singing!
how not to weep the weeping,
sans sonnet, which is antidote to gall ...
Sonnet is the song of troubadours
is the secret treasure of illusionists
not being metier only of doctors,
but cannot be tamed by anarchist.
The sonnet is the host fact of pain
chief guardian of poetic wisdom and
whoever does it, is one who does
Conserves its origin and its dynasty
to perform it well with pomp, nobility
as one who honors and cares for his love
There are time capsules in the rural Mid-West,
not retro constructs, but temporal dislocations
that remain as was,
for lack of a reason to be other.
Restaurants steeped, not in nostalgia,
but in a comfortable inertia;
diners that serve
broast, broiled and breaded,
drive-ins where the movies you missed
can now (if you have a mind to),
miss again.
We have bars where the jukebox is not a junk box
but a wood and chrome depository
for archived time-warping selections.
Beer here has a fabled and dusty history,
and is brewed as meaty as a rolled-up forearm.
Astronauts are grown here,
the moon is their backyard,
their silvery spaceships
launch each year from every State Fair.
We’re futuristic in a plaid and dilatory way,
we are as post-modern as Jetson reruns.
We dwell just West of the middle of tomorrow.
when i think of you
i think of your needs
or is it my needs?
... if you are alone or fulfilled
or is it my fulfillment i'm after?
your river of life,
turbulent ... as they are
yet waterfalls
of hope and promise
yet with banks of hardness
knots to unravel
mysteries to uncover
but are challenges
not suppose to be fun?
can i have fun?
tributaries with red herrings
little white lies
benign
yet swimming waves of beguile
besmirching the surface, veil
yet what can i do ... but smile, too
can i swim with you?
its the other tributary i yearn
you should see me ...
yet...
its your depository that snakes the river
or is it me wanting to make a deposit?
this is all alien to me
the irony here i roll my eyes ...
not the two peas in the pod
connie pachecho
3/24/17
In the world of viruses criminatory
Quick Heal is the best category
Which I chose as my advisory
And freely continued my story.
Viruses made my PC dilatory;
Looking into browsers defamatory,
Inserting memory cards accusatory,
Unsafe browsing was dormitory
Hacking my info was depository
And to stop this, there was no jury;
At this juncture came this Hoary.
Quick Heal is the best category;
Quick Heal removed PC’s quarry
And made my PC safest Glory;
All ill things made eliminatory.
Among all it is the best Allegory
And is really a judgement priori.
On that fateful day in November in '63,
is the day that the evil shadows laughed with glee,
immediately changing JFK's course of history,
Oswald being the CIA pawn patsy,
Warren Commission saying case closed,
dead man walking down hall time froze,
Zapruder's film showing different views,
of JFK's death whereas conspiracy bloomed,
Slowing film down makes you wonder,
magic bullet, book depository blunder,
eyewitnesses meeting unusual deaths,
the shadows lies creating a domino effect,
To this day I watch in horror the famous film,
the only evidence of JFK's assassination hewn,
the lies underneath lies still buried underground,
JFK's eternal flame still flickering on his mound.
2-16-17
Curio cabinet full of
Memories; a small dent from a wild child
All hopped on penny candy, running on
Giggle energy, because of the excitement
Of the Little Orphan Annie radio program,
Stopped in her tracks, and stopped in her breath.
Scraped on the lion paw spindle leg,
From when nervous grandson watched
One small man shoot 3 small bullets into one small skull,
Like a whole book depository landed on point.
A stain mimicking the Grecian coastline,
On the drum top, from the spill
From the redwine from the news of pa-pa's death,
A slip and fall when reaching for the remote.
The drawer can't close correctly because
Daddy's head landed sideways after the bullet
Pierced his temple; how many times can you be laid off
On December 24th?
Curious cabinet guarded loosely
With skips in posture and hiccoughs in time.
Maker o maker,
Here is my resume.
Curio cabinet full of
Memories; a small dent from a wild child
All hopped up on penny candy, running on
Giggle energy, because of the excitement
Of the Little Orphan Annie radio program,
Stopped in her tracks, and stopped in her breath.
Scraped on the lion paw spindle leg,
From when nervous grandson watched
One small man shoot 3 small bullets into one small skull,
Like a whole book depository landed on point.
A stain mimicking the Grecian coastline,
On the drum top, from the spill
From the redwine from the news of pa-pa's death,
A slip and fall when reaching for the remote.
The drawer can't close correctly because
Daddy's head landed sideways after the bullet
Pierced his temple; how many times can you be laid off
On December 24th?
Curious cabinet guarded loosely
With skips in posture and hiccoughs in time.
Maker o maker,
Here is my resume.
Did the skools that u went 2 get u no jobs ?
& with no munny 4 cloze , u feel like a slob ?
& because u are poor , u can't get a wife ?
& existence on earth , just can't be called life ?
& because u are poor , u have got no munny ?
& emotionally speaking , u don,t think it's funny ?
& the kirrint winter is the coldest in 50 years ?
& it's so cold that U R crying real tears ?
& Steve gerber,s death , must be a notsey cunspearasey ?
U gize did see , the secund gunman ,
On the grassy nole , next 2 the book depository , didn,t U ?...
Particles
Ask meaning of bearing limitless
Depository sand particles in desert,
Destiny is to bear enjoying parching
Following ghastly cooling nocturnal.
Coinciding with hurricanes and ebbs
Gathering fun and flowing in unknown place
Immeasurable delight advances always
Bores, if rains sometimes thwarting project.
Soaring high up in the firm advancing tourism
Dwellings of far and wide human’s vision
To my reply elder spoke, heave of stone brick
Glittering is that water reservoir, men call do to it ocean.
Wetting through water is disgusting
No remedy to walk hither and thither flying
We are happy in our realm
One unity, one culture fine.
Streak of jungles are human’s habitat
Luckily they don’t like us charging hot sand
Don’t come towards us and be active
Traders, hawkers some ill traffickers.
Do come treading on our heart
Being their activity criminal and fought
We don’t prosecute for trivial matters
Otherwise could silent them in our particles.
Dear Lord Almighty, thou art Supreme
Thou art depository of all divine virtues
Thou art fiery spirit; thou art manly vigor
Ignite me with a tiny sparkle of thy spirit
So that it helps me discard my indolence.
Thou art the source of all powers; infinite
Grant me an iota of thy limitless authority
So that I can tame my unwieldy senses
Into subjugation and smite the strength
Of the colossal and entrenched evil in me.
Thou art the vast reservoir of compassion
I crave for a bit of your abundant kindness
To help me embrace all beings unreservedly
I pray grant me a few of thy blessed traits
That helps me become your proud creation.
altar of mine
bluish murmur
last truthful circle
ara-moi pritel priti
ult-hu hums usmel truhank
altar where I’ ll invoke inclining
mine your whole all of all
bluish ultravibratoryswift remote
sleepless murmur of still silence
ultimate depository of gravitating conscience
genuine mysterious love
circle that never began
nor will terminate
altar of mine
bluish murmur
last truthful circle
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