My yard stands quietly in the sun,
Morning bones of adobe bright,
Measured shadows lean like questions,
Muted fences breathe warm dust,
Mesa winds hum through still air,
Memory settles in soft light,
Motionless heart of the desert.
Have a pang or a pining?
Poised for piquant pleasure? I positively preach:
when dining,
you must savor
a pulchritudinous, plump peach
flavor.
Says I,
“Please enjoy each
pie!”
Have a pang or pining -
A pulchritudinous, plump peach
pie!
When he told me he didn’t want our baby
I snapped you see went a little crazy
How dare you look into my Black Excalibur eyes
And walk away carefree leaving lies
Heartbroken maybe it was deeper than
Word I can find to describe such a man
I couldn’t be happy not knowing this
Or could I all nappy run that back sis
Sitting at the clinic in a Georgia town
Alone with my baby in my belly brown
I knew I couldn’t do it cut it’s life short
Crying nurses soothing I didn’t abort
But my son still paid the price it’s sad
For in his life was a reluctant dad
Who never did anything no gifts no visits
Heartbreaking for him making me livid
Be careful who you walk away from
One day you will need your son
Now that this football season is o’er
And the Bulldogs are champions no more
Still give Kirby a raise
And let’s pray for the days
We’ll play ‘Bama and run up the score
Snowflakes dance on mountain peaks,
Laughter echoes as the cold wind speaks.
We trace our steps on frosted trails,
Warm scarves and mittens, rosy faces pale.
By the fireplace, stories unwind,
Hot cocoa shared, our hearts aligned.
Through streets adorned with twinkling light,
Family together, hearts burning bright.
From city streets to quiet streams,
We chase the magic of winter dreams.
In Georgia’s arms, the season gleams,
A memory wrapped in snowy beams.
If California may hear
In between eyes clerical
and Justices Repeal
Both names
Have been titled
Titled as an altered code
and violation of building standard
Becomes currency
Contempt of Congressional Ledger
Perhaps suffices
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This is a law
Poverty law
Poverty of dwelling on a matter
A matter of worth
Creating a slaves hide
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Georgia peach dusk
beyond blue and cloudy skies
a bodacious kiss
won with a Southern accent
a drawl that draws one's eyes up
Rain falls soft on Georgia,
up north there's falling snow;
Gazing out the window
I've got nowhere to go.
Been lost in the desert,
been carried by the wind;
Dreamt about yesterdays
I'd not relive again.
I've watched the trains roll by,
saw hobos on the run;
Thought of time and distance
since their travels begun.
Wonder where I'll be
when one tomorrow comes,
Will I be marching true
to the eternal drums?
Futures remain hidden
far from the naked eye,
They grow stronger in truth
as the years pass us by.
One step, then another,
would take me down the road,
Yet there's no direction
in the stories left untold.
Rains drift over Georgia,
up north the snows still fall;
Outside this old window
a myst'ry seems to call.
Yesterdays fade from view
like rivers 'round the bend,
I think I will move on
when, at last, this day ends.
second Winter
without snowflakes
just peachy
The sensitive strokes of Georgia O'Keeffe's brush
have aroused in sweet pea petals, a tender pink blush
In these ruffled labian folds, painted as a fragile flower
buds beget blooms in their feminine garden bower
scant moon -
lullaby’s a whisper.
sleeps soon,
after mother’s kissed her.
moon high,
over dusk-hue passion.
I sigh
with twilight’s compassion.
peeking
between the pines, her eyes
streaking.
winsome drive - crescent dives.
descent,
of what’s left, of the moon.
advent
of season, coming soon.
Christmas,
aft will bring a moon, black.
snow sass
in cul de sac.
It’s summer in Georgia, yeah, it’s warm.
In high school, they said Shakespeare
once called Georgia, "sulfurous and hot."
He wasn’t wrong.
The careless sky is letting in all of the heat.
We saw a TV news crew chasing a lone cloud.
The humidity is so thick, that the air is too dense for lungs,
but we bought a tool at Home Depot that cuts it into usable pieces.
Today’s ‘Webster word of the day’ is “glade,” which is funny, because
if you see an animal in a glade, it’s probably dead from the heat.
I saw a bird in flight burst into flames when it drifted from the safe shadows.
If you want me, I’ll be in the pool - or a friend’s pool. I taught Lisa
an old southern saying, “Lawdy Miss Scarlet, it’s hot out HE-ya.”
I love summer’s honest freedom.
My motto for the next two weeks is:
“Don’t give up on your dreams - keep sleeping.”
.
.
A song for this:
Don’t forget the sun by the explorers club
Don’t worry baby by Carrie Elkin
Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene
would love to rip out your spleen
if Trump’s not the center of your world.
Her radical convictions she has loudly unfurled.
That she’s antisemitic is true
and, it seems, white supremacist too.
She has praises for Putin.
For some murders, she’s rootin’.
Certain Democrats make up this queue.
She speaks of family values and her Christianity,
then spews out venom. That hate is wrong, she cannot see.
Here’s one conspiracy theory that thrives in Greene’s head:
JFK Jr’s death was a Hillary “Clinton murder”~~that’s what she said!
the roaring sound rejuvenates my heart
wind whips,
bells tinkle,
flag flaps
thought i
needed to change
into shorts
but my
just bare feet,
thin sweater blue jeans
perfect
for this early Spring blustering
lilliputian tweets and vroom beats
such temperate tempest jubilation
lifts my spirits
if
the sea were involved
with
its swanky salt I’m seconds away
from
the pearly gates
Marietta Georgia the beginning
and the end of poetry soup as we
knew it today we are swamped by ads
investors buying web domains inventing
shenanigans amidst their very own
motives creating fake accounts all
under the same foundations gathering poets
to allow poems to be featured in anthologies
now is the time for all great poets to come
to the aid of their country to write or
not to write that is the question
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