grief lies on my back
pinning me to the bed
I am exhausted by her
she is a master manipulator
she follows me to the bathroom
in the mirror I see my father’s face
I have his chin, eyes, hair and bad teeth
grief gloats
she hits me whenever and wherever she wants
is this the fifth?
she hits me more than usual on November 5th
Daddy’s death date
Leave me alone, I yell
I splash water on my face
she waits for me in the bedroom
the first thing I see in there is Daddy’s red plaid shirt
grief is still in charge
not all the time, but often enough
I crawl back into bed,
she has won again
my imagination has wandered off to play
don’t know where she’s gone, doubt she’ll stay
my muse is excited to have her way
thinking she can be in charge today
I take a word and tear it apart
carwash
car jumps off the page and drives off
wash nabs ing and makes it stay
I add machine to washing
washing machine, an old-fashioned term
does anyone use it anymore?
Or is it like mathematics, reduced forever to math?
Bubbles fill up the laundry room
Bubba does a cartwheel as the bubbles dissipate
cart and wheel, I split them up too
Now they remind me of a prairie schooner not a gymnast’s trick
Bubba gloats a bit because he added the A himself after splitting from les
Words are stubborn, opinionated, they have their own ways and means
I stand back, watching in awe, wondering what their next move will be.
A slave of words.
ghostly bones lie in wait in the swamp of New Orleans
the plantation home understands their keening and wailing
who else hears? is there anyone left to mourn for them?
the wind rustles the cattails, mosquitos are rallying
murder city, some call this place; especially the sign readers
occasionally visitors will pay the price by being inquisitive
some leave; others are condemned to stay with the others
the house gloats at the demonic powers of her land
girl in white sits in the reeds, watching the visitors
making decisions as to whether she will release them or not
she was the first victim of the killer who lived here in 1903
today’s visitor has lovely blonde hair, she always was jealous of this.
We see how this narcissist gloats
D.T. needs M.D.s who take notes
They say he is mad
And Trump's ballroom pad
Should be staffed by men in white coats
This issue concerns mail-in-votes
It’s rigged says Dick Tator who gloats
Fair counting is in
Only if I win
And upon me everyone dotes
Sir Billy Pig’s missing his oats
Miss Piggy Wig’s had hers, she gloats
But she’s looking so rough
Her bum’s full of crap stuff
Its output is brown and it floats!
I’m advised by a pal of mine
To “Never cast pearls before swine”
Or put lipstick on a pig
When it’s mouthing off big
Miss Piggy Wig’s an old bovine!
No one crows, no one gloats
no spin, no contrived quotes
Just a sober nation taking stock
of the world it just shocked
All aboard the bizarre Farage barge..
Unless of course you are from abroad..
.
Narcissist catalyst.. old school fraud..discord twist..
Can't resist.. staging the raging red mist..
Fist of Mob rule tryst does persist..
Depraved raves..insist..craved faves..
Won't save slaves & knaves..
Hellbent they are sent..
To graves under the waves…
Foolish votes for ghoulish gloats..
Seedier media leaders lying..
Defying the dying..
Folks crying..ghastly ghostly boats..
Crude jokes delude..lewd masterstrokes denude..
Corporate rascal castle debacle floats..
On dank murky murderous moats..
Scuffles.. muffles ruffles & kerfuffles
Pokes & provokes just for bank notes..
The ubiquity of inequity
This poem or tome..
Every face…race should be.
Free to roam..
In this place..
We all call home..
with dusk approaching
the radiance of the day
melts in the rain
streetlights smear
the autumn colours
across the footpaths
doubling the display
of chromatic foliage
autumn gloats
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Fickle sunbeams tickle fluttering daydreams...…
Lyrical lapping lullaby encores...
Gingerly stroke sandy shell shattered shores..
Starlings spy…sky high murmurations...
Skimming stones....slicing silky sheens..
Voluptuously verdant riddles…islands within idylls...
Scattered daffy darlings..dilly dally...
Sunshine splattered chlorophyll candles...
Animosity as an ersatz monstrosity shines…
Saluting highfalutin pomposity..devouring skylines..
Notes of cut grass gloats floats from..
Middle class mowed manicured marvels..
Criss cross collaborations… surf the tailored turf....
Billiards baize ablaze with petrichor whiffs
Festooned with afternoon nana nap snores..
The radio's heavenly hum of cricket scores...
A duvet of familiar riffs...murmurs of what if's..
An inkling..whispers of summer's sprinkling serendipity twinkling..
Stoked and stirred up, fire flares,
If provoked, cobra scares,
Hurt by loss of glory,
Startled, beasts show fury,
Goaded, ego gloats in thin airs.
_______________
Translation |11.01.2025| ego, self, fire, snake/cobra
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. Ego identifies with (lower) self--man, bird or beast. If hurt, it reacts. When stoked fire flares. If provoked, cobra tries to scare. So does human ego. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Jvalati chalite indhana agnih,
vi-prakrtah pannagah phanaam kurute |
Praayah sve mahimaanam kshobhaat
prati-padyanta jantavah || 218 ||
That's the Venice door showered with beauty!
Where loneliness is daily on duty,
By its side, a small pool just sailed two boats,
The occupants are most probably ghosts,
If they're humans, they must be real cuties.
First I saw of this was in Djibouti,
But that was left decrepit and sooty,
So, for elegance that beauty denotes;
That's the Venice door!
The decorations are made quite pretty,
It's like from a last century movie,
Flowers even near the pool that boat floats,
It's the clean surrounding that makes wealth gloats,
Stamps of opulence colors it pretty,
That's the Venice door!
A fable of worth weaves a fair tale,
that wealth possesses and not possessed.
A quest to feign means forges a trail
long jaded by the marks they unveil.
Though blind seeker's minds a treasured chest.
The hope for glory gloats jealousy,
the more the merrier, too cliche,
counting amounts to a specialty
until idle growth reels entropy.
Insignificant be, sensed doomsday.
While the moment ill-timed takes pleasure
as imbalance shortchanged one's fortune.
Debt collectors knock at their leisure
of court rulings, list your worth's measure.
It is beyond the call of margin.
Though street level, not truly gutter,
err midst a fool lacks austerity.
Low-life address as a deal cutter
a debt paid in full hangs aflutter.
A world minus dreamt prosperity.
they sandwich together in an oddly weird way
barely touching, as if a bit afraid of each other
sand has lost her solar rays from the day before
sea gloats a bit, bringing her a touch of discomfort
a symbiotic relationship, they tolerate each other
one giving way to feet and fingers in a gritty way
the other allowing humans to dive into her depths
sand and sea, partners, together, yet vastly apart
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