The pot is melting...
The 'great melting pot'
This elaborately constructed pot holds a motley of colors and flavors
Once strong and pleasing to the eye, bustling with all of its aromatic juices, flavors, and textures
The great pot of RED, WHITE, and BLUE draws so many, and the few
Indigenous peoples and many others from great and small distances assimilate in this great pot
For a while, the cooking and eating were good, I mean pretty good
So good that still more ingredients desire to be added to this melting pot to bolster the flavor even more
But now, this great pot is disintegrating
Too hot now, is this pot
Too hot with deleterious elements that threaten the constitution of this great amalgamation
The pot is melting
The 'great melting pot'...
It is melting
the Rio de Janeiro Carnival attracts two million people a year
It is a four-day event
a seat for the parade can cost anywhere from three to six hundred dollars
there are five thousand elaborately dressed dancers in the parade
I am not tempted to spend the money to get there or get a seat
But I would love to watch this if it is on TV sometime
The table set
just us three
My wife, my son
and me
A masterful meal
spirits raised high
How about a song now
Let's give it a try
One tune leads to another
melodies like brothers
Forty minutes of pure gaiety
laughter, joy, a taste of harmony
The after-meal grace recited
with full-throated thanks
Next meal - six hours, guests coming
~ time to refill our tanks
_________________________________
Note: The 'Festival' referred to is Sukkot,
the Jewish Fall Harvest Festival - 7 days
in Israel; 8 days elsewhere. Meals are
taken in a small, temporary outdoor booth,
often elaborately decorated. Many families
sleep in these huts as well, fulfilling the
command that every Israelite dwell in
booths for seven days. (Leviticus 23:42).
Dappled dawn slowly raised its shade
As brindled pit-bull puppies played
Patiently the fisherman hooks the mottled rose-dotted trout
Peppiness in his laughter rings out
Lazily the varicolored finch's wings raise him up
Elaborately bedazzled is a spring buttercup
Day to night nature is dappled from higher-up
Written: February 07, 2023
Sponsor: Constance
Contest: Writing Challenge D Word
people dont always reveal
exposing their curled horns sharpened
towards the sky
elaborately torn or newly shown
wings
gigantic over towering
guiding their soul
who says there are angels
when to be told were all sinners
was there a time when we were saints
you cant
those twisted thoughts engraved into
the stems of our brains
scorned into our flesh
the stench too strong to deny
burdening makes it harder
especially if there is shame for those scars
living
yes but at least you are breathing
somethings cant lurk in the void forever
boredom eventually becomes you
reach into the abyss
feeling and hearing those whispers
those my love
are your demons wanting to play
Does
Make America Great Again
Also mean
Make America Straight Again?
How about
Make America White Again?
Maybe
Make America
AntiFeminist Again?
Another possibility,
Make America
Christian Evangelical Supremacist
Again?
And,
more elaborately,
Make America
Business As Usual
Patriarchal/Capitalist
Autonomously Empowered
and Exclusively Enlightened
MonoCulturally MonoTheistic Again?
GREATness
is soooooooo much more
morally
and ethically ambiguous
than public HEALTH
and global climate SAFEty.
I would feel so relieved
if my RedRight friends
and family
would patriotically fly
and pleasantly post
Make America Healthy Again
banners,
hats,
bumper stickers,
condoms,
masks,
And MAHA foreign
and domestic
green-woke policy statements
with health wealth optimizing
cooperative intentions.
Ruffians badger and bother the rest of the world, without care.
I see them coming with their mean attitude and try not to stare.
I wonder who has hurt them so badly, that they want to hurt others.
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
They don't always dress the part, sometimes they wear business suits.
Sit in their offices eating elaborately rich foods that causes their toots.
Pick on their employees and they are nasty as heck to their brothers.
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
Ruffians bully themselves into the best seats on a bus and a plane.
They are braggadocio and boastful, and to others, a huge pain.
I would rather not sit anywhere near one, if I had my druthers.
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
Ruffians wear suits that make them look like sweet little old ladies.
They sit in the subway car and they yell out to the Mrs. O’Gradies.
Are loud and obnoxious; Could they be fixed with a few smothers?
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
Perched atop the vaulted arches of Notre Dame
Exquisitely carved spouts are not angelic hosts
To receive the embattled, sinful souls seeking
Entrance to the cathedral, Paris's most holy,
Close inspection reveals grotesque, ugly creatures,
Medieval gargoyles spout, appeasing the gods
Ere sinners enter the sanctuary of grace,
Souls unbaptized with holy water gushing down.
Irony-laden solace from chimera* lips
With nefarious grin they draw upward the eye
And guard the Apostles gathered in the facade
One passes 'neath to enter the sanctuary
The solemn midday mass has already commenced
Elaborately-robed priests offer bread and wine.
[* "Chimera" - According to the Oxford American Dictionary
"a grotesque monster" or "a thing of mixed character or
fanciful origin."]
Written on March 30, 2021
[Sonnet of Fourteen 12-Syllable Non-Rhyming Lines]
Submitted to "This or That, Vol I" Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Received a N/A
Submitted to "Your 2021 N-A Choice" Contest
Sponsored by William Kekaula
Gypsy Fortune Teller costume revealed my most dazzling self
Wearing hot pink, silver, gold, purples, and flaming oranges.
Carrying a crystal ball, tarot cards and runes.
An elaborately embroidered shawl over my shoulders.
Enjoyed myself ever so much at the Octoberfest, reading palms.
My psychic self pranced forth, hugging my soul with delight.
Pirate Queen costume, reveals my hidden slashing self.
She looked so unassuming, they thought, until they saw me now.
My blousy sleeves set off my enormous black boots and eight inch belt.
I moved daringly, with aggressiveness I usually cannot muster.
The crowd cleared a way, seeing my determined purposeful pirate walk.
Sword and pistol attached to my side, I felt a confidence I rarely feel.
I growled at a few children and they laughed, because they knew me.
Elvira, Mistress of the Dark costume revealing more than I should have.
My sensual, sexual, excited to be me side, so I shared it only with my man.
Wearing it at home, in the bedroom where others rarely go.
He likes this one the best. Even better than my French maid costume.
Enough said.
He was a bold color artist, painting bright
pigments of rose blossom pink,
tangerine treats and peacock waves, just right;
occasionally working in pen and ink.
He was a brave thinker and his artwork palette
bore whispers of daring thoughts.
Had he sculpted; no doubt, his mallet
would’ve recorded ladies exposed ladies...double knots!
His work reflecting sensual curves,
suggestive of bright ribbon curls,
truly exposed his inner verve;
filled with spirals, swirls and whorls.
Upon the sight of his flamboyant works;
the eyes elation would display.
Exhilaration causing their swift perk;
at the elaborately illustrated brocade.
AND THEN IT HAPPENED Part 3
She invited me to join her. I wondered what was on her mind. As we entered her suite, the glitz and glamor of a celebrity lifestyle overwhelmed me. She hurriedly shut the door and beckoned me to follow. She led me into an elaborately furnished room with the slight fragrance of freshly cut roses mingled with an unidentifiable heady aroma. She had me take a seat and disappeared into yet another room. My imagination was running wild. I had thoughts that were almost embarrassing.
And then it happened . . . .
If an apple a day
keeps the doctor away
What about a therapy
Before an injury that preys
The scientists with their minds
Should research down the mines
To find those love lines
To find the fine molecules in the spine
Of love and its strong signs and wines
And if i had a lab coat and a laboratory
I would smear every love cell in a petri dish elaborately
One by one separating each territory
Of love and rebuild its glory
Just to stimulate immunity against love's morbidity
OBSERVATION
Above
night sky dogs
picture moon goddesses
Below
gardens tiny buds
ask for moments
of quiet
Still
Sunflowers and the like
whisper elaborately
tuned to natures music
and raindrops of love chants
careless stippled rivulets
shimmering ripples
streaming before us
touching lip tenderness
rivers of grace rising
to meet us on
glistening waves
within you, within me…endless sky
within me, within you… endless earth
within you, within me… endless fire
within me, within you… endlessly
I observe
© Kim van Breda—28 September 2015
A celestial dance
elegantly takes chase
in a brilliant display
a cosmic embrace.
Illuminating time
in a labyrinth of space.
Swirling, spinning,
intricately showcased.
Cryptic wisdom
of beauty and grace.
Elaborately balanced
and preciously placed.
Precise and majestic
it's creator divine.
Infinite, lovely
by his grand design.
If my nostrils were bigger
My inhales would last forever
Then,
I can breath.
Firstly. Profoundly. deeply
Fill my atom with Suns
A glittering flowing breath
fly elaborately to Cairo
Sit on a nightly spot
Warming the center of the world
close the book
let dust manifest
Why do we insist on coming back
If we hate it here so much
Why do we come to life
The skin enveloping you
Is no match for the windy state
Skin up my child
Reach out and fortify
When they tried to kill 'your people'
They killed all peoples
Death have no skin
Skin is mortal
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