A breath soft cinnamon is early
S p r i n g
not perceived at any other time of year
when two tweeny caterpillars cling dear
to one dandelion stalk sublime —
Shy LimeLight of green opens its legs
across yellow field — no scientist can
capture such subtle sheen
daisy clean
Heart feels its mighty loom alright …
It waits tentative as pink buds peep
from cacti who were in soundless
S l e e p —
Acacia stops shedding bare brown
splints — fresh mint bleeping
Noon arrives sooner sprinkling spritely
misty loss as Winter N o r t h w a r d
farewells
goodbye to woollen socks —
lullabies fade beneath mustard mohair docks
…
Southern Spring bells with clocks
C h a n t i n g
Chiming unlock
You see them rise while still in the suburbs,
the rings of hills, the wilderness buffer;
smaller, more round than what waits further on,
some sport cabins atop with views quite long.
Down on the road some houses still pop up
for folks who hate the concrete, noise, and trucks,
and at crossroads, small stores with country themes,
selling jerky, t-shirts with wild scenes.
Then small motels folks claim on the weekend,
cars with kayaks, across the ponds to wend.
Just down from that, a smallish petting zoo,
with local critters strutting in plain view,
the kind you wish you could see in the woods,
but they all hide, and that’s for their own good.
Then a small lake, stubbed with second homes,
the kind that you hope someday you might own,
weathered docks and fishing boats on the lake,
could the trout here be big enough to take?
But now the peaks are stretching for the clouds,
buildings thin out, the road the forest crowds,
the foothills gone, these mountains your escape,
a wild land, the kind owned by the state.
we discuss, debate and compare
remaining as yet unaware
that each unfoldment is unique
so no one with our heart can pair
of which throb within should we speak
when none save us can take a peek
at epiphanies that so dawn
signalling we’re he who we seek
layer by layer ego’s shorn
but when in trance thoughts are reborn
and therein lies the paradox
branch of mind from us is not sawn
the demon of dark desire stalks
boat of attachment in heart docks
ah, to be free of lower mind
in silence alone we detox
It is the lairiest of epochs
Ignore slop do a pop vox
Chock a block with shocks
But the scariest of tik toks
Snapping like hungry crocs
Another spate of hate docks
Photos that everyone clocks
Those ones who girls mocks
Are as deadly as small pox
Aren't all as strong as an ox
Shaking from online knocks
Drowning in instasham lochs
Stinks like young men's socks
Mistaking that a cure’s botox
Crowning a theory I defrocks
That faking makes you a fox
Solution sells comes out a box
Lies stir fries in corporate woks
Smells fishy like out of date lox
Why jog cheat the elite flocks
Fatty injections vanity smocks
As the poor everything hocks
Pharma firm flogs all its stocks
Not just peahens also peacocks
Androids on steroids rippled jocks
Muscle bound like the Springboks
Why are so many blokes.. cocks?
How about all go on a long detox
Take note your boat you’re the cox
Winner is the inner you which rocks
Fashion rations compassion is bollox!
. it
will there
be
wait'n
wanton wenchez
wild
((woe))
who
might thuh
have
daddio
companion
dirk
')>
Inside the secret treasure box
venin sits atop an old curse.
Potent to keep the tidings terse,
a result not meant to flummox.
Thin powder on glistening rocks,
the plot twist in an ancient verse.
Inside the secret treasure box
venin sits atop an old curse.
Cold shivers linger on the docks,
as if this virus could get worse.
Do not let bad juju disperse.
With a key that energy locks
inside the secret treasure box.
From Mazagon docks
On Bombay's shores
He sailed to Mombasa
Overland to Kampala
From one colonial hub
To the Pearl of Africa
The source of the Nile
The end of the railway
Moved by imperialism
In service of His Majesty
Using accounting skills
He toiled diligently
Empire worked efficiently
Extracting wealth quietly
Using agency of his ilk
Dividing and ruling
A good learner was he
Risk taker: entrepreneur
Started trading; thrived
Built a house; believed
The clock was ticking
World War 2, tolled
"Independence" came
He retired to Marna
Watched from afar
As it came apart
Protectorate to confusion
Kabaka and Prime Minister
He passed at repast
With grandchildren
It was no jest; gone
At rest in the village
His manses to decay
Wealth to scatter
Descendants aplenty
None like him
In my youth I always dreamt
about building an island house
overlooking the beachfront
filled with nautical decor
and wooden floors
enriched with coconut palms
with hammocks
lounge chairs and tiki torches
lined up on the outside view
with a powerboat of my very own
parked near the docks in the sun
Despite the aspirations
of acquiring this dream house
of oceanic treasures and wonders
it still feels like a house so empty
but all I know that
someday the Son of Man will
prepare a more superior one for me
consumed with eternal treasures
on that island of paradise
created by our eternal Father
in the clouds above
They said he was finished, his moment long gone,
Buried by headlines from dusk until dawn;
Yet voices of millions rang clear and concise —
A nation stood up for its freedom and rights.
From truck stops and town halls to docks in the rain,
Came Americans done with endless disdain;
They chose not the noise of the ruling class curse,
But a banner that reads: AMERICA FIRST.
Drill bits were turning, pipelines ran fast,
Energy freedom reclaimed at last;
Supply chains anchored in red, white, and blue,
Building again what Americans do.
No longer apologies spoken abroad,
But strength without bluster and peace built on God;
NATO found clarity, rivals took heed —
Firm hands & clear purpose, virtues we need.
Two hundred fifty years carved into stone,
From muskets at dawn to a nation full-grown;
The same rebel spirit still runs in our veins —
Self-rule, strong borders, and freedom sustained.
So mark this return not of man, but of sense:
Of duty and limits, of prudent defense;
Love him or not, one truth now rings clear —
America First is why hope reappeared.
The hum of the furnace
The buzz of silence
The smell of old
The feel of defiance.
The loneliness aches
The chair rocks
The TV stares
The night docks.
The time ticks
The memories fade
The wrinkles deepen
The age decays.
The sun rises
The sun sets
The day ends
The dark threats.
The eyes close
The heart stops
The family cries
The end drops.
Midnight Star
Radiant night
Darkness takes flight
Candles with a low dim light
Star’s glow bright
Oceans crash on the rocks
Moonlight on the docks
Your reflections tread across the water
Stand by you forever
Take me under
Black sky watches over
A second chance
Together at last
You are Midnight Star
It’s burns from afar
Your green eyes sparkle in the night
Dust we become out of sight
Never take you for granted
True love that will last
Time is passing
Remember our memories
Look at the stars at night
Together until the end of time
Frigid temperatures filled the square
Rigid opponents chilled the air
Deriding him a radical socialist
Unbridling the race to get him off a ballot list
The city was arm in arm, in protest daily
Whites, Blacks, Arab and Israeli
and what came up to all’s surprise
Mayor elect—Mamdani’s rise
Along came the 112th Mayor elect
Strong spent are the people who'd select
Lines stretched around doters
Awaiting hours were his voters
Indulges in a city reborn it’s bagels and lox
Sworn in over the subway station docks
Hand upon Islam’s holy text
A marvel of a man who’ll govern next
Swearing words of conviction and not of pity
I swear, to bolster and defend this dynamic city
Mayor Mamdani
promises New York City ~
a hopeful journey
New Year's Day
1/1/26
A mother's cry
My mother had broken up with her boyfriend
She was out of work and had not bought a tree
Her boyfriend used to do that
She boiled rice and milk into pudding, gave
Use the pan and tell the three of us to eat
She went to bed, but we could hear her
cried in utter despair
After some time, she got out of bed, dressed
She took us to her ex-boyfriend's family
told them to give us a happy Christmas, which
They did as she herself walked off
When her ex heard of that, he paled and hastened
down to the docks
He found her there at the edge of a pier, trying
to commit suicide and took her home to his parents
They remained lovers for many years.
My mother was an intelligent woman and would
not put past her, she had planned it all
I’m blest with flawless vision, so endowed,
due to golden gift of sight a treasure,
my eyes, I laud in mint leaf green verse,
when viewing sea wet docks in mystic towns,
or ornate footpath to hue-tinged garden,
of fragrant sprawl and bloom, to behold,
day peep, first blush, urban verve and vim,
expressive gaze from my pearl white inset,
feature highly, endorsed by close-knit clan,
seeing eye to eye, I can’t see why not!!!
The walking stick and Elon Musk
I was a galley-boy on an old tankship
that docked in Liverpool for repair
I think it was in May, and I was sixteen
at a second-hand shop, near the docks
I bought a walking stick and happily used it
the stick going ashore to the pub or
to buy fish and chips, unaware of how odd
I must have looked, no one said a word
Coming back on board, it was the second
The officer who said I looked ridiculous, no one
uses walking sticks anymore, you are not
a ing lord
Enter, into my self-contained world, what
other people thought of me
I became self-conscious, and it worried me
What did other people think of me personally
His words brought on a shyness that stopped
My plans for the future
Who knows, I might have become the first
Elon Musk
He has freed himself of what other people
think, or so we believe, but deep down, he
likes to be loved
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