Water, water, rippling down my morning shower,
Just the right temp – a pleasing thing.
The snore of a little dog to comfort
During a midnight bad dream.
Simple happenings.
The smell of coffee, the pop of toast;
Classic songs on the radio;
A neighbor’s “hi”, dew on my face;
A creaking door, loving this old place.
Simple sounds.
A cloud forming the face of a friend on high;
The ferns grew another inch last night;
No air conditioning needed this day;
Laughing kids with just one more day to play.
Simple sights,
Then when life tells you you have needs to settle
For the humble ways, without complications,
And let quarrelers quarrel and frowners frown;
You opt for peace without limitation.
In Favor of Simplicity
Categories:
frowners, peace, simple,
Form: Verse
Today, would never be elected!
He'd be run out of rooms.
How dare he ask us:
"Ask not what your country can
do for you, ask what you can
do for your country."
I remember being so moved by
that statement.
But our country has taken a new
direction.
And we scratch our heads, oh really?
Asking why there is so much dereliction?
Re-think JFK's question.
Stop listening to the pinheaded
supplications for renumirations.
And demands to fulfill all our
supplications.
When did we become such cry
babies and rabble rousers?
We need to stop wearing diapers
and find our trousers.
Become adults, not crabby
frowners.
June 16, 2019
10pm PST
Categories:
frowners, america, brother,
Form: Free verse
Today’s the crazy travel day
That everyone’s been dreading;
Crowds colliding all around,
No matter where you’re heading.
Airports, depots, subway cars
Are filled with out-of-towners.
Baggage bumping into legs
Turns smilers into frowners.
Every sidewalk’s packed and mobbed
With folks home for Thanksgiving.
It’s just like a zombie flick,
Although this herd is living.
Hopefully, they’ll make it home
Or to their destination;
Such a massive effort for
This Pilgrim celebration.
As for those who make the meal,
When patience does unravel,
Count your blessings – after all,
You didn’t have to travel!
Categories:
frowners, holiday, people,
Form: Rhyme
(31/01/2012)
My mind is my sacred playground
Where I’m the only one with a crown
And only me can be found
My mind is my magic wand
To make graceful tune
Avoids me from feeling down
And heals any wound
My mind is my powerful chants
It makes the frowners dance
Deceives tears to laughters
Manipulates sadness to joyfulness
Categories:
frowners, on writing and words,
Form: Rhyme