What’s on the old mind tonight
the good old frontal cortex
the ole gray matter
~ not that it does…
"Join hands, circle left, let’s begin this song,"
In the valley where Flatirons stand strong.
A Chautauqua garden, where joy takes root,
Square dancers gather in plaid and boots.
Men in white hats, spurs that gleam bright,
Women in flowing skirts, a colorful sight.
"Allemande left, then do-si-do,"
The caller’s voice leads, steady and slow.
In the warm afternoon, they twirl with grace,
Laughter and music filling the space.
Clouds start to gather, the sky turns gray,
Sprinkles of rain join the dance play.
But diehard dancers keep spinning around,
"Promenade home, feet on the ground."
Raindrops cool, a refreshing delight,
As boots splash in puddles, hearts take flight.
Brief is the shower, the skies soon clear,
A rainbow appears, the air fresh and dear.
Birds start chattering in spruce tree nests,
The creek overflows, nature at its best.
Wilted flowers rise, petals open wide,
Square dancing continues, joy as their guide.
"Swing your partner, round you go,"
In this garden, where love and nature flow.
Many whispers travelled through the lunchroom
The newcomer was nervous, maybe,
That could explain the jabbering right?
Some of the diehard eaters stood by, demanding answers
It seems like Morty’s wailing meant his lunch was stolen again
This is a once a week thing. I beg him to bring his own refrigerator.
Once I agreed to split the cost, but he likes showing his rage.
It is something he cannot do at home with that thunder cloud wife of his.
Groaning is happening now. Maybe Morty is almost finished bawling.
There is a shriek! Someone has tossed out a Halloween rat with red eyes.
A sick joke, and not one to pull on Morty who has weapons in his car.
I know that he despises rats and scares easily.
They all love the way he responds to this teasing.
Be the beauty that dwell to spread,
For all to share colorful moments.
Be the cheers that spring to yield,
Good laughter to birth inner peace.
Let crudeness not teach beauty's value,
Like darkness preaches light's worth.
Let melancholy not bury cheers' birth,
Like sunlight helps seeds germinate anew.
May all you crave for not be like shadow,
Unto your table as the daily bread.
May the blessings that will be bestow
On you, be the ones you really need.
This day of the year; many happy return,
Shall accompany you in His presence.
Through days and nights commitments,
Which shall make you enjoy great upturn.
Congratulations on this day, dear brother
Your wish is not meant to make you bother
Best wishes on this day. Oh grace!
Define redress power to foster pace
You're the best with kindest regards.
Make the best out logistically
And like Bayern, play your cards,
Projecting unique docket optimistically.
Up Chelsea with trophy parade in town
Lolz! Down Arsenal with a useless crown
Timileyin, that's for every diehard blue fan
Who ends up with excuse of the ban.
Winks!
Obviously male, I strut my stuff and make my song of Key Key Key.
I am the captain of this branch in the banks of this bamboo tree.
My relatives are from Costa Rica, and are as aggressive as paprika.
Except the looney ones from Argentina, who dance the Macarena.
Wait! That’s a lie, but we do have cousins in Panama.
They live in proximity of the great white macaw.
We are not petite like a parakeet.
But our rainbow throats simply cannot be beat.
We are medium sized, which sometimes makes tourists surprised.
A diehard necatavore; I eat sugar-rich flowers in meadow next door.
Do not wander far from my mountain gem tribe.
Or my lovely mate, my darling sweet heart bride.
She has laid two white eggs, sitting has made her cross.
Up seven foot high, they are covered by moss.
I am obviously male, I strut my stuff and make my song Key Key Key.
No other fiery throated hummingbird has the confidence of me.
Solfatara plays lumen,
Air hypoxic rites death,
Fumarole punches the stomata,
Coldness fired leaves,
Joy!
A run amok storm dragged trunks,
The warrior of plantae,
Majesty of a tropical mountain,
Every berry has glory,
Hail!
The God I call upon speaks every language,
knows every dialect, sees every thought,
hears every prayer, seeks every soul...
The God I call upon loves Hindu and Jew,
Muslim and Quaker, Catholic and Buddhist
and He loves as well the lukewarm agnostic
and waits to welcome the diehard atheist...
For the God I call upon must love each soul,
the lost as well as the found, else how could
I or you or anyone call upon a lesser God?
No, the God I call upon is always More,
never less, but always so much More--
endlessly More, eternally More...
J is for Joyful, always looking on the bright side
A is for Ambitious, full of drive
M is for Magical, you make the impossible happen
E is for Essential, you are important to us
S is for Sensational, ever exciting
E is for Enthusiastic, ever encouraging
D is for Diehard, staying true to your beliefs
W is for Wise, you always have sage advice
A is for Admirable, commanding our respect
R is for Receptive, an open mind
D is for Decisive, capable of bold actions
L is for Laudable, your accomplishments are most commendable
E is for Energetic, a buoyant personality
E is for Exemplary, a class act to follow
S is for Scintillating, you shine brilliantly
R is for Rare, your friendship is gold
4/24/19
It’s Friday again
It’s Friday again and old soup is asleep
Slumbering, dreaming and snoring so deep
Or maybe out shopping, a new pair of shoes
A purse or a tie or whatever they choose
Perhaps they are climbing the side of hill
Their head in the clouds always comes as a thrill
Or out in the yard with their daisies and roses
A camera in hand in case anyone poses
Just maybe their driving somewhere in their car
Staying quite close or discovering far
I guess they could all be out eating their lunch
I’m not sure of that, it is more of a hunch
They could be out golfing or skiing I guess
Though ask them and I’m sure they will not confess
Maybe the dentist, a tooth that does ache
Out at a barbque eating a steak
Flying a kite or out rowing a boat
It’s way past the day they allow us to vote
Riding a train across rickety tracks
Pressing their shirts and then pressing their slacks
Something has happened, of that I am sure
There’s nobody hanging ‘round soup anymore
I know it is Friday and always the same
Only a few diehard poets remain
Man it's boring around here on Fridays
How cute are the flowers that come to my lawn,
but these little flowers are oft frowned upon.
People don’t like them because they grow tall,
and many folks just mow them down, one and all
Yes, they wilt and they wither, that’s also true,
but so do all flowers. It’s what flowers do!
These small diehard dudes bring themselves back alive,
bursting like popcorn. Oh, how they do thrive!
Their shriveled up bodies, much like a cacoon,
emerge looking different. What do we see soon?
Feather-heads in my yard come into sight,
each sending seeds sailing off, fluffy and white.
The seeds, when they fall to the ground, will beget
circles of leaves, which are called a rosette.
Though the leaves are not sweet, we can make from them tea
with nutrients given for us naturally!
They help one’s digestion and even the brain!
Plus other great blessings from this plant we gain.
The overlooked beauty of health in the seed
of the dandelion makes it much more than a weed!
Nov. 11, 2018 for Jesse Rowe's Overlooked Beauty Poetry Contest
Just for a moment, open your mind to all possibilities. Whatever you dream, you can do and create. Then probabilities have opportunities, by which they can manifest.
When the radio was manifested, everyone believed such, was impossible. Phones, cars, indoor plumbing, computers and all we have today, was once considered impossible.
Belief is the catalyst, by which we initiate possibilities. Possibilities addressed with imagination, belief, and effort; give birth to realities; increasing probabilities give us hope that our dreams will manifest.
Skepticism has its place; it can keep you on the road to manifesting realities but, it’s too often abused; used to demean and degrade the dreamers. It prohibits their success in manifesting those probabilities which stalls progress.
The fool is the diehard skeptic; the clammed-shut mind. Those who believe; though some skepticism is allowed; are the real geniuses; courageous believers; thank God for them.
Each of us possesses the capacity to dream; when dreams provide ideas; open your mind, create and leave a part of yourself to this world.
The sun will shine brighter tomorrow if I do not partake in drugs.
Also this will help me stay away from bullies, meanies, and thugs.
Yes, I am a diehard advocate for friendship, peace, empathy and love.
The most positive people are sent to me from my spirit guides above.
My friends and I advocate and teach kindness and the golden rule.
People recognize my softness. I am not easy, certainly no fool.
Through love and hope and empathy, I have created a wonderful safe place.
Surrounded by upbeat, positive people, the best of the human race.
Written for Charles Messina's Poem of Poem Contest
Written June 25, 2018
Like a beacon shining with eternal bliss
The victorious underdog will always exist
As the true diehard David and Goliath fan
Resourceful as the incredible shrinking man
Motivated by lack of respect and esteem
Never saying die and fulfilling the dream
I am a Diehard Cubs fan
Tried and true
I wear cubbies Royal
And I bleed Cubbies Blue
I grew up watching Ernie,Billy and Santo
Ryno, Grace,and Leon
Were all my Heros.
Later it was Sosa, Maddux and Wood
They all lived through the heartbreak
From a team that never could.
Today I watch and smile
Tears run down my face
2016 is the year
My Cubbies are First Place.
Rizzo, Jake and Javi
Kris, and Dexter, Albert
Addy, Ross and Schwarber
Wilson, Edwards, Coghlan
Grimm, Heyward, Lackey
Montero, Mike, Rondon,
Jorge, Pedro, Travis
Aroldis,Zobrist, Maddon
This team have finally done it
Brought the trophy home
For all our family who are gone
They spent their life teaching us
Never to give up, be strong
To Wait till next year
When our magic numbers up
You finally did it guys
The talk of curse is gone
Forever in our hearts you'll be
The team who got it done
World Champion Cubs 2016
Fear of the future,
And Faces by fates,
Ends in a failure.
Thoughts of her,
And You a diehard,
A sweetheart you get.
Me gusta you be,
And ask out,
A date it be.
Keep fantasizing,
Away from her smiling,
Then be waiting,
A question coming.
Why off-hook,
Why shying you look,
Say, Timid she makes you be,
And lie, your thoughts she can't see.
I have love in the wild,
Long lost, unable to find,
A question then ask.
You have what it takes,
To go wild without the fakes,
Ask, willing to help me make,
Through life, through hardships?
A no would be obvious,
Carefree she will say,
Or taken she will lie.
Don't you give up,
Rather along stay up,
And care, and stand up,
She might give in,
And in love, fall in.
You are mine, say often,
Your words, try soften,
In your life she will remain.
Success in sorries,
Silent love in phases,
Be the formula for future.
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