Begotten to Fail
The strutting hustlers
rouse their slumberous day
amidst their maddened worlds
In the midst
of the wary ghetto
A dream steps out
blinking, yawning with a resolve
even as their sky seems blurry
Repelling men and monsters
Relishing the forecasted rain
Marching through
mud and splatters
riding with the lightning
dancing to the pounding thunder
mastering the guts and dangers
grimy with the heap
of yesterday’s dreams
grimacing the flavour
of lack and resentment
2025.2.23
Summer heat waves.
Checked on the website,
Beaurology of Melbourne weather forecasted.
The temperatures, the winds, the water and the tides.
Would be in the 30°c, calm, fine and low tides.
I somehow started to get panic,
Not because of the heat.
But more about the end of the summer is near.
Comparing to last year,
Victoria has more heat waves and sunny days.
I had so much sun tan,
Someone insisted I was from African decent.
This year, I visited Cowes Philip Island,
Warrnambool, Apollo Bay, Point Lonsdale and Lorne,
Not to forget Geelong,
As it was always there on the way.
I went to Sorrento back beach,
St Paul Lookout, Jubilee Point, Diamond Bay and Bays of Island's.
I would continue to travel,
As long as I was still able,
Until one day, I leave this place,
And go far far away.
Until then, I might see you again.
There, on the horizon
looms a darkness,
this uncertainty,
an unknown,
the future, inevitable.
Daunting,
imposing,
inexorable.
Fated to suffer,
forecasted pain.
My outcome
resides in the hands
of those so skilled.
Season of giving is here for all
naughty or nice it does not matter
fun laughter joy and a lot of chatter
singing in front of a tree so tall
Season of cheering is here for all
bringing in the new year with fun
no matter the location, it is done
raising glasses as count down call
Two holidays where most come together
holiday season that brings the most cheer
no matter the choice; spirit, wine, or beer
unity out weighs any forecasted weather
Being present during the holiday gatherings
for those who enjoy the holidays cheer for all
potlucks only, but most stomachs take the fall
same time next year in if anyone's wondering.
A total eclipse
might be my last one to see—
Spring rain forecasted
Spring rain was forecast,
it came.
showers licking the earth,
also the bald spot on the top of my head.
under my collar, down my back,
skin gets squirmy.
In the store,
I’m thinking of buying an umbrella,
but end up buying Gladioli,
because you love them.
The tall flowers are soaked through
and getting heavy,
I could have forecasted that.
I was inside a hut
Didn't see you around
Looking like a nut
Wondering where you're bound?
We talked about this
What time and place
We didn't change to miss
The spot to see each other's face.
It should be raining today
Weather forecasted the other day
I'm here waiting
While you're somewhere sitting.
I'm calling you
Your phone behind you
Not answering my call
Mumbling over my call.
Then you arrive
One hour later today
I left the hut I drive
Five hours away this way.
Now you're weeping
Standing on hut's wet floors
I already cried and thinking
Forgetting your word above the doors.
Doors I left wide open and set
For you to see how raindrops came in
Inside the hut where we first met
Make you realize rains are my tears that went in.
I am the raindrops
On wet floors you're standing
They are not tears of sadness but joydrops
Of me, behind the hut, watching you and fonding.
You turned around
And saw me with extending arms
For you, I'll always come around
With your faith in me, I'm in your arms...
Forever.
Have you seen the rain?
I can be your rain forever
Rain to keep you wet out of pain
Wet, but not cold, to keep you loved ever.
mint with a strong scent.
showers forecasted today
shards of solid rock
found it hard to bare
when riding in a wheelchair
should handle with care
trump does seem to stink
had seen him when he would wink
slid down drain in sink
death perpatrated
that they initiated
had been ill fated
no longer pollute
vaccine in arms they should shoot
Trump things did dispute
Trump always gambles
turned country into shambles
on golf course rambles
never gave a rip
out of office we should ship
send Trump on long trip
Trump did loose his mind
not patient or ever kind
he has big behind
seemed so nice and brave
McCann rolled over in his grave
to Trump still a slave
Trump had been distraught
lied and cheated and was caught
round peg in square slot
what we forecasted
by Trump would be lambasted
too long had lasted
Was stingy and dingy
lethargic lacking energy
caused by allergy
picture depicted
Trump addicted and convicted
from White House evicted
Most of our lives are lived
in an in-between world…
yesterday and tomorrow the bookends
to what has happened
and what is yet to come
ordering the mayhem in an artificial attempt
at unity and control
escape becomes an option for the very few
who no longer believe in the prescriptive banner,
the forecasted promise,
the dogmatic challenge
—or the printer’s ink
(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)
we had forecasted
would become flabbergasted
long surely lasted
Jim Horn
Did Determine That Divulging
We Did Determine That when divulging,
What happens when you are indulging;
Had eaten a lot,
That we brought;
For a long time we have been bulging.
Jim Horn
Who we did adorn after being born
After my poem had been posted,
Did end up home after I coasted,
Down hill;
Big thrill;
Ate cheese sandwich well toasted.
Jim Horn
PS. LSMFT
Lord Save Me From Trump.
Loose screws mean foolish tactics.
Labor should muffle flatulence tersely.
Leave some more forecasted therapy.
Let severe mandibles firmly tighten.
Limp severely my foot terrible. (That is a fact.)
Light started moving from time.
Luckily she meant for truce.
Liked some minds fighting Trump
Have a try at it.
For your poem always have cared;
You can tell it was well prepared;
To my delight,
Idea bright;
Room for nest poem they spared.
Jim Horn
the cinnabar moth
a summer diurnal one
check out the ragwort
peppermint stands
mint moths' abundant tiny
summer potatoes
a rambling rose
buds showing waiting to burst
a flowerfly drones
bees not many
some burrowers one or two
campion self-seeds
tis the morrow morn
west is the forecasted wind
southwest for the swifts
Waterfowler’s Delight
Clouded marshes masking what may come.
Suzy's boisterous invitation over yonder grass
Dark shadowed spreads set to entice some.
As the glow of the East begins to amass.
Newly anointed awaiting the first blessing.
Old dogs hoping the spark will catch fire.
Light of day upon the horizon pressing.
Nosing sweet dew upon the poignant mire.
Blue and grays approaching whiter shades.
Dark decoys amidst water hazed with hue.
Breaths of pink winds follow forecasted trades.
Nestling in, head up, taking in one last view.
Grasses, reeds, trees and limb begin their claps,
Rattling and brushing in a standing ovation.
Shedding nights tears, tapping coats and caps,
Encouraging shivers of warm tingling anticipation.
Night choruses blend with day’s percussion
Clicks and rasps of metal, wood and springs.
Last words, rules whispered in group discussion
Silenced by sudden whistling of cupped wings.
Glancing at time wishing the watch was there
Edging toward one half hour before this sunrise.
A single, lonely, echoing report from over there,
Waterfowler's delight, peeling eyes to the skies.
09/25/2017
Only to hold you once more
I step to the forefront of thought and desire,
placing my face to the wind
Calling in echoes, now flames to the fire,
once again now to begin
Knowing this feeling that takes me away,
somewhere my heart it does sing
Forecasted sunshine my eyes it will play,
love is a wonderful thing
Can’t help believing that you feel it too,
beneath the heavens so free
All that I am I shall be that for you,
found in these moments to see
Hoping you smile when thinking of this,
praying this message to send
So you will know with the touch of your kiss,
my heart starts beating again
Now here I wait as I stare to the skies
filled with my thoughts ever pure
Wishing so softly in love filtered sighs
only to hold you once more
Good night Soupers
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