season
rolls on
hot days’
blaze strays
blue sky
clouds fly
hued scene
fleets in
awesome
autumn
grass few
dons dew
ground calls
bronze falls
trees own
bare crown
leaves wilt
lose lilt
they fold
film gold
rustling
leaves sing
fall song
prolongs
golden
garden
Monet
display
Shared atmosphere vapor trails in blank stares across a room so crowdedly desolate.
Always there, always filthy. Slideshows flicker like the magnavox eyes shuffle lid to lid, moment to moment as time fleets like dust shimmering in my heart. Always filthy.
Brought out of the infectiously swollen cardiac arrest, through the waters, so thick drowning with due care. Peeled back potential baking like hot glue amongst the weight of glory that was never there.
Love against the glass ceiling swimming above while the sharks swim below. Sinking into the black and blue that ensues carbonated lungs scream alone in the waves below a somber rock a bye into the phonetics, into the pride less afternoons wasted in silence.
Alone in the drink as all the hands let go awaiting always filthy waiting to sink out of mind and out of sight.
Once upon his signet ring
a maxim true and wise,
Which, Gave him counsel,
for every change or chance:
'Even this shall pass away!'
II.
Trains through the sand
Brought gems
Fleets
Brought pearls
But Treasures wealth?
the King would say;
'Even this shall pass away.'
III.
In his court, the sport,
When the palms
Burned with clapping
He, Cried, O loving friends of mine!
'Even this shall pass away.'
IV.
Lady fairest his queen.Pillowed
Whispering to his soul,
Mortal flesh must come to clay:
'Even this shall pass away.'
V.
Fighting on Soldiers bleeding
Groaning Pain is hard to bear,
But with patience day by day,
'Even this shall pass away.'
VI.
Towering Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose statue carved in stone.
Gazing Asked
what is fame?
Fame is but a slow decay:
'Even this shall pass away.'
VII.
at the Gates of Gold,
Spake he
Life is done, but what is Death?
Fell a sunbeam on his ring,
Showing by a heavenly ray --
Even this shall pass away'
(Blackout of The King's Ring by Theodore Tilton)
Some shrink at trespass,
Where never stepped foot.
Some grasp at weeds,
Where there is no root.
Some fears have no substance,
But the shade of us.
Some see gain
In loss.
For them, I lament;
I weep when I see
Where, with their deeds,
Create a life of tragedy—
All their own
And all alone.
They cherish
What they reap
In a false reality.
Much like these
Paths we tread,
Built on nothing
And dreams long dead.
Alas, it was all
In your head;
And the rainfall
Was not dread—
Only rain.
And what was said
Brought no pain
Or anger or lethe.
Step back into the light
And deeply breathe in
That healing breath.
And linger not so;
For fleets time,
Where soonly comes death.
Smile upon the years left—
Spend them not in agony
Of imagined wrongs
Or errant slight.
The moon cast her shadow
Over all of night
While you sort wrong
From right.
And assure time
Better spent
Is wasted on lament
And woeful rhyme.
He has a pencil and imagination.
He sits above a marble tabletop
a commanding plateau aloft -
shadow-shades of wintery geese.
A sea swept fable
overlooked by a high stool
and a six-year-old Zeus.
Eggshells grain and creamy caps,
a crystalline surf slaps swirly shores,
blue veins score billowing stone
deep unto watery bone.
Contours of light
shelf, trench and darkling nights
there jabberwocky did roam.
A vast wave engraved realm
where pencil-thin old salts
jig, and swing
upon deck or land.
Grand fleets stand
flogging savage coasts.
Guns hammer truculent hosts
with smokey enfilades
and thick odors of bacon.
Odyssean voyages are lost
in greasy spots,
while an embattled buccaneer
spreads his buttery art across
a voluminous chart.
Then he, the breakfast boy
bends above the roving,
the erstwhile and damned,
sketches a gull or three
with a sailor's hand.
With a god-like paw
the child draws shallows, sandbars
reefs and more
swallow or befog a seascape,
while great ships converge to rescue
a bold seaman
and his bandy-legged dog.
My husband likes conversing
With most anyone he meets,
Including taxi drivers or
The ones in Uber fleets.
Domingo was our Uber guy
And on the ride, we shared
Some talk of life and grandkids,
But I doubt he was prepared
When a question was presented
Asking him to think and rate,
On a scale of 1 – 10,
Just how happy was his state.
At first he didn’t get it
Then he smiled and said most days
His number would be 8 and next,
He listed all the ways.
He and his family have their health,
He has a home and work
And seeing others suffer,
He knows dangers that might lurk.
So all in all, his life’s okay
And he feels satisfied,
A pleasant conversation
For our Wednesday Uber ride.
A little sand, a dash of water, a piece of salt
Oceans of laughter and memories crashing onto shore
Only seashells will tell the true story of the lives that came before
Little hands, steady feet, a determination in the eyes
Children of Gaza reach for a morsel of humanity, a drop of mercy
While the silence of the Divided Nations offer only controversy
Fleets of flotillas, formula for babies, a spark of empathy
Met with brutal force and an occupation of denial & death
Yet, the world’s voices scream, “Free Palestine- until our very last breath!”
Doctors, journalists, teachers, and students living, dying, souls fill the sky
Hospitals, schools, universities, and homes buried under the rubble of genocide
Protest, Advocate, Let Everyone See, Tomorrow Is Now, Existence will not be denied!
We see you, People of Gaza, you beautiful souls
You are the compass for the world, the light in the darkness of a very long night
The earth, the olive trees, the river and the sea are all waiting for Palestine to be Free!
- End the Occupation Now!
- Stop the Genocide in Gaza Now!
- Free, Free Palestine from the River to the Sea!
by Lori Maria Walton, 2025
I spoke to the sea,
a calm breath
though a gale raged
inside of me – both my
sails shredded, I begged
for mercy:
“Thou art the greatest world current,
what brag would be a wretched notch
like me!? Devourer of coasts!
Reshaper of vast continents! Bane
of man’s mightiest fleets! Countless
formidable have foolishly challenged thee, and now
lie silent in your crushing depths...were I
added to such esteem numbers,
a bald-headed, gray bearded, toothless
old dote, it would be a disgrace~
better toss me high into the
air, toward that island over there, for
unlike you, Great Wet Majesty, crocodiles
and lizards have no pride; then there
not be shame of yours to hide –
promise, never will I return….”
and this, dear children, is why
grandpa cannot take you fishing --
The monotony of existence, the scared
face of life, haunts my figment’s dust.
The blank sullen eyes, which of dream are bared
are drenched in, worldly physical- criminal lust.
The night that charmed my existence
Now dreads me, out of unknown fears
Where the bats fleets in the past tense
And the morn is born- like ‘ones in many years’.
Still- hope drills my mind-
Still- my breath out of positivity is sweet.
I’m new, not crippled nor kind,
But my tears are still salty, oh! Nature I couldn’t beat.
Akash Sangwan
Sitting by a fire on a winter night –
longing to see daylight –
shivering, freezing, in the icy cold –
how long can my patience hold?
“We’ll be all fine,” Father had assured –
just days before his absence we endured.
Mother had consoled me through rivers of tears –
hours before we’d face our fears –
Cruel murderers, they blasted the streets –
riding grandly on their war tank fleets –
people dropping still by the second –
but I didn’t budge, even as Death beckoned.
Captivity chained me, dragged me along –
tell me, killers, what was my wrong?
Is it that I live in the land that you hate?
Why, why is this my fate?
Sitting by a raging fire on a chilly night –
wondering how long I’ll face this plight –
will this dark dusk ever cease?
Will I, someday, witness dawn and peace?
The elixir, the liquid transparent treasure
flowing through the caverns of rocks unto the unfathomable abysmal layers of the Garden,
Replete in rivers, streams, brooks and cascades.
Who gave you all these?
Pensez bien ! Rappelez bien !
Les arbres, les herbs the fauna et flora on the valleys and the peaks of mountains, plains and prairies, the largest Fishery that surrounds this civilized planet with its trillions of schools , fleets and herds; and the oasis at the vast stretches of dreadful deserts.
Who gave you all these?
Pensez bien ! Rappelez bien !
La Lune et le Soleil - the queen and the king of the heavenly orbit and the million minions of celestial celebrities with their ceaseless service and servitude turning the canopy unto a kaleidoscope beyond comparison.
Who gave you all these?
Pensez bien ! Rappelez bien ! Praise the Lord and preserve the prize !
Ça, n'oubliez pas !
When The Love Is Honest
When the love is honest, it's a clear spring,
Reflecting truth in every ripple's gleam.
A sturdy oak that weathers every sting,
Roots deep in the soil of mutual esteem.
It's an open book with pages pure,
No ink of lies to mar its pristine sheets.
A lighthouse beam, unwavering and sure,
Guiding ships through stormy heartbeat fleets.
When love is honest, it's a golden key,
Unlocking hearts, setting spirits free.
Surely, there is just one singular truth
The world your inherit is moving in brute
In a pace so threatening to sail with
Yet everyone's hurrying with their fleets.
Dear Generation of intellect and science
Amidst this chaos, learn to pause and take a deep breath
For this world of science is full of distractions
Let love be your guide for your resilience in kindness it abide
When you're gone do you want to be proud of who you were?
Then lend me your valuable time and a ear
Your race has just begun yet your end is very near
Do yourself good to have a memory of glory.
Understand that your way is not the only way
Embrace others opinion even if your values it disobey
Time is unlimited yet restricted
So make every moment of it counts for minutes are just seconds aggregated
Dear Generation Alpha, children of the Millennials
I know you're in it to enrich yourself
Then take risks, don't play it safe
Give all you have for tomorrow is not just another day.
TOMORROW REARS YESTERDAY
When life challenges sway us aback
With horizons of tomorrow seem plague
We seek answers that never come
While hope fleets us inwardly
And we grief motherly
Forgetting life’s worth definitions
I open an album of memories instead
To reprint the direction of the next step
Because challenges are the charcoals
That furnace my will of living.
toad sat liliy pad
a buzz a gulp splash~buzzing
yellow jacket fleets
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