Q: Who is the current Chief of Staff?
A: The resident President.
Q: What is an old, lame, deaf, half-blind Sherlock Holmes?
A: A defective detective.
Q: Who is the magician who ate all the pasta when no one was looking?
A: The linguini Houdini.
Q: What is a day in the life depiction of the First Family on view in the rotunda of the White House?
A: An Obama diorama.
Q: What is a doctor who operates on a big fish to remove the roe?
A: A sturgeon surgeon.
Q: What disease did the star of "Veep" get from drinking unbottled water when she was in India?
A: Julia Louis-Dreyfus typhus.
Q: What is a debutante dance for snakes, alligators, etc.?
A: A reptilian cotillion.
Q: How do people in third-world countries view America's "open door" policy?
A: As an immigration invitation.
Q: Selfridge's was a fine example of what kind of department store?
A: A Victorian emporium.
Q: Where would you be if you found yourself trapped between this world and another?
A: In dimension suspension.
Categories:
diorama, humor,
Form: I do not know?
Some of them are living ghosts,
they have buried their roots
under newer foundations,
or they still live anonymously
under a rock of poverty.
If you asked me to name them
I could not, for they all had names
too similar to mine.
The whole street,
all its doors and windows,
its narrow-broken pavements
have been obliterated by the nazis
or the iron booted rent collectors.
Postwar postmen have no addresses
to slot through.
In my mind
is a diorama of a history
that I missed by being born late,
yet the street knew me before I knew it.
Now the ghosts are dying one by one.
Those that left the street
to become pink and abundant
were happy to be alive for a while,
as I was,
until inevitably
the diorama turned into a carousel
of long gray sunsets.
Categories:
diorama, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Quiet porch and a lazy chair,
sitting for a while is a song.
A blue collar stereotype.
Highlights visible from the air,
bold italics will show up strong.
Iconic, working that pinstripe.
Dusk saunters in devil may care,
sizzling whatever could go wrong?
Tipple a taste of this peace pipe.
Like a view of the county fair,
the big girl rides go all night long.
Such fine architectural hype.
I have built my diorama,
a caricature of drama.
Categories:
diorama, emotions, fashion, feelings, home,
Form: Other
Self-transformation through karma includes a load of drama.
I should have bought a larger and deeper diorama.
When a crises fully shook me, I feared my ink had dried,
forced gone by the new brain managing my mind from inside.
To outrun the blues, my muse likely fashioned good-bye shoes.
Grieving my muse, I cried recalling decades we'd penned through.
I sought their return through all ways I knew stirred their core.
I read poems, played songs they loved, walked the ocean shore.
Four months passed with no sign from my muse or ink evident.
Next, I looked through my family pics and felt some sentiment …
So, I stared at pics of Dad and Bro, and well sensed my muse mush.
Their deaths years back, made muse wish to compose and ink to flush..
Categories:
diorama, absence, abuse, confusion, cry,
Form: Rhyme
Reading fridge magnets; surprised how interesting,
the world is when stamped into rubber decals.
Rome, Ankara, both Buda and Pest.
Watching a colorful rolling diorama,
pictographs tumbling over a flat white-scape.
Images recalling airport loudspeakers,
beeping taxi cabs and swaying camels.
I nod at a graphic depiction of a flight of pelicans,
bombing Florida,
imagine Sarasota sheltering under torrents of guano.
There is a decal from Mongolia, the magnet reads:
“Welcome to sunny Ulan Bator!" China is reduced to a
bowl of rice with dragons swooping for crumbs
much like London pidgins.
The Roman colosseum nudges Egyptian pyramids,
old lovers, slowly crumbling away.
I don’t see one for Ohio; maybe they only sell them
in Michigan…for target practice.
The fridge is a travel guide for those that sip morning coffee,
and wonder should they even get dressed today.
Categories:
diorama, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Screen of Awareness
Look up!
From tedium uncertainty -
Focus on an impartial pure lens -
Blank screen of nothing shows pulses of the soul,-
Flashing test patterns of unbiased ambivalence
And the veracity of a changing diorama.
Pause
Before the imagery in reflections
Of history’s emotionless mistress
Moments hidden
Held captive in blinking time windows -
Independent sentinel of a detached empirical.
Open
To the neutral sentience
Of a silent silvered screen
Devoid of snarled motion pictures,
Curved dolby lacking judgements,
Conscious docudrama premiered on perpetual loops!
Witness honesty
Shadowing boxing with equivocal revelation
Heartbeats captured in subjectivity’s vertigo
See screen tests of impartiality,
In amber awareness like clanging signals
For a slow train of approaching objectivity.
5-20-23
Contest: Screen of Awareness
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Categories:
diorama, angst, life, perspective, truth,
Form: Free verse
“Broken Brights Lit the Light”
Broken brights
lit the light
watches
through
the eyes
observing
pain waiting for
future to arrive
trapped
between the cracks
somewhere
on the outside
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Reclaim Your Heart” / Daniel Johns
https://youtu.be/YEf77wp_jKE
"Future Never" (Full Album), Daniel Johns
https://youtu.be/YOB_AkYS4O8
"Diorama" (Full Album), Silverchair
https://youtu.be/jTYi5a7ga9M
LYRICS/ “Reclaim Your Heart”, Daniel Johns
https://genius.com/Daniel-johns-reclaim-your-heart-lyrics
Categories:
diorama, muse,
Form: Free verse
Even the ghosts have faded now,
splashes of gray like shadows
in a child's diorama.
They slip in and out of mortared cracks
in my mind,
seeking a validation
I cannot besrow.
But they must remain in
their graves,
Wrapped in their gangrenous
shrouds, pursuing
redemption without me.
Categories:
diorama, death, dream, grave, grief,
Form: Prose Poetry
You have my back, my golden gem
Safe from the diorama of destruction
Your shining moments some condemned
Triumphant peace, my resurrection
Categories:
diorama, faith,
Form: Rhyme
Make your own emblema
draw circles
in your schema
recreate a blue day
shine a panorama
make it a beautiful diorama
Categories:
diorama, beautiful, boy, child, color,
Form: Rhyme
How finely tuned this world the great machine
Precise: its programme code, and never changing
Immutable equations writ Boolean
Determine every nuance of arranging
The scene before my eye showed clear mutation
Dull Green and brown to bright and glistening white
The signal for this magic transformation
A predetermined level Fahrenheit
Yet there’s another factor to this drama
With impact more self-willed and variegated
That may drive this abundant diorama
I speak of life: each form reiterated
Regardless of the source from whence it came
Life creates fields, partakes in the great game
Categories:
diorama, life,
Form: Sonnet
I awake with the question "Am I like my predecessor?"
Automated and fabricated to slave for the oppressor
I join the procession yet I am an orbate transgressor
Dissipated and attenuated with no clear successor
Then I drift into much more lofty domains
With greater rewards yet more precarious terrain
A place where answers can not quite be explained
Where the mind is confounded but the spirit ascertains
Then I shower and shave; I sigh and greet the day
Will it be my chagrin or triumph I put on display?
In my head I have a tempest, in my heart a bouquet
I must choose which one to portray, which one to obey
Categories:
diorama, angst, conflict, day, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
once aboard the desert submarine
anchored by the golden sundial
outlandish and phosphorescent
we crossed the greatness
of many drowned landscapes
fluxes of algae and shrewish freesias
cloistering up
dans le château à la lune
where the ragman’s lantern announces
the arrival of the fearful butter knight
he’s tattered and salted
the endangered specimen
straight from the cabinet of Walter Potter
the missing piece of a lifeless diorama
the granite giant of bronze ages
walking at the speed of light
he’s an itinerant vendor
and with his grand dexterity
he’ll get us before we
summon the witnesses
his crime forgotten
his crime simply victimless
once aboard the desert submarine
we’re outlandish and phosphorescent
and we’ll have our moon Halloween
and honeymoon of adolescence
Categories:
diorama, imagery, surreal,
Form: Free verse
Mask of different kinds, textures and appearances
Some may be scary, some making an impression
As we are wearing each of them in instances
While facing people on our first introduction
Containing the dignified concealed persona
Along with a feigning camaraderie
Distinguished by an emanating aroma
A delectable touché derived quality
Ceaseless skirmishes in a realm of hide and seek
Where it is compulsory to screen your presence
For the unknown is a ghastly capricious freak
Running wild in the pursuit under false pretense
Locked in a fantasy-filled penitentiary
Where our only valid verity is faux pas
Everything’s on borrowed time and temporary
Placed out stationary like a diorama
Adhered in the many faces of perception
Are based on true events, foreboding narrative
Mendacity drawn details with smug attention
A conquest for survival in order to live.
Categories:
diorama, anger, anxiety, betrayal, conflict,
Form: Elegy
His School Project Is Due Tomorrow
By Elton Camp
At two-thirty, Agnes was sound asleep
Into her bedroom her son did creep
He gave her shoulder a firm shake
“Mom, I’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Tomorrow my school project is due
If it’s late, then my life is through.”
“I had forgotten it until just now.
You’ve got to help me somehow.”
“A diorama of Hoover Dam I need
So you’d better pour on some speed.”
Categories:
diorama, humor,
Form: Rhyme
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