In a dark world where many fear real authenticity
and cannot handle the rawness of everyday life
there is a true light to be found in every Aquarius.
Many people tend to misjudge them as very careless
and wrongly assume they feel nothing at all or ever
but the power of their love can be quite precarious
In their glimmering eyes there is a very deep truth
that only they might be able to fully understand;
perhaps that is why they're not always so serious
But because humanity is their greatest love of all
they will work to ensure their water jar pours forth
although with the right people they are gregarious.
This poem is part of my zodiac-themed collection. "To Honor Winter's Shadows" was the first in this series. Pisces is next in this series, though I've no idea when that'll be. The poems I write honestly come of their own accord and I don't like to force my talent. Thank you for reading!
many blue jays call the trees
around my neighborhood home
yes, they can be found in forests
but, nowadays in residential areas they reside
I love their blue colors
both male and female are almost the same
I cram my bird feeder with seeds, peanuts, and berries
did you realize that though delightful they can be aggressive
noisy gregarious curious bold
they are intelligent and can mimic other bird calls
when threatened they scream comparable to a crow
and they talk to each other with sweet tweets
their nests are cup-shaped and made of
twigs roots bark moss plants feathers mud
safe high up in trees they lay eggs
and the babies stay with the parents
for one to two months
then, leave one by one . . .
He’s heard before he enters:
you all know the drill.
He lurks in Shopping Centres,
as purposeful as krill.
Socially successful?
Like a waltz named ‘Emmet Till’.
His outcomes, too, are stressful
(see Wordsworth’s Harry Gill).
The death-knell at your dinner
with his punchline overkill,
a Jeanine Pirro ‘winner’:
each day a No True Bill.
His laugh’s as loud as mowers
or dad’s electric drill,
or over-taxed leaf blowers,
or an angry whippoorwill.
Denizen of the diner,
you know, for good or ill,
he’ll use his new one-liner:
audience feedback? Nil.
Why repeat the spasm?
Get up each morning, still?
He’s conscious of that chasm,
that hole he’s got to fill.
Nowadays I'm a semi-recluse.
often, I feel the need to retreat,
reverse yet further
into a temporary nest
of a woolgathering and
imprecise brain.
It is feather-fluffing time,
time to watch squirrel's scamper
over a slack jawed presence,
to ogle thoughts from afar
as they fuzzily forage
after each other.
A wide Walnut tree,
spreads out of my imagination,
furry paws toy with cracked visions
in their nutshells.
Nobody here, nobody phoning or
knocking,
Just a crow cawing on a branch
which might be (in truth) my right arm.
That limb always was the most
social
and gregarious part of me -
I often talk to myself with it.
You want to know the downside of Aquarius?
Just ask the folks who weren’t in Noah’s Ark,
or check out Jethro Tull and Linkin Park.
The paths we tread are manifold and various,
as Lewis learned by teaming up with Clark –
and now the Eightfold Way reveals the quark.
Is ‘humorous’ the equal of ‘hilarious’?
Is ‘mini-skirt’ the same as ‘cutty sark’?
About as similar as ‘bite’ and ‘bark’.
We take from this that language is precarious,
quite unreliable (if not nefarious):
don’t trust a man who says he’s made his mark.
Instead of “it is written”, “it is dark”:
for I have felt the sinews of the shark.
abecedarian poem
The fudge! The fudge!
A mnemonic device
some good acronyms to
remember for the clefs
Early: Gregarious:Blissfull Days Fatuous
Equivocate Garrulous Bouis Dampen Fervor
Egotistical Gaffe Balafon De-esser Fortissimo
abstract or impersonal information Vandoren
spoke the reed-member.
The fudge: the fudge 'The fudge!
Lady what are you talking about:
I hunger; in deeds I do!
egg;grits;bacon;Daikon: Fudge!
The fudge! the Fudge The Fudge!
Exotic:Gracful:Boxum:Devotion: Flirtatious
These are some acronyms!
Eating Green Bok choy Discorages Farts
eating feta bought Dence farts
Electronic Drums: Ground :Bees: disperse: Fiddlers
Eager: Gizzers:Bizzentine's:Dungeoneers:Fancy
Eager:Glammers:Bet:Down:Folly
Either:Gerund,Beat;Dark-match: first
Every:Grappler:Brings:Dirty-finsh:
Edakka.Gandingan,Bassoon:didgeridoo:Flageolet!
“Happiness is contagious. It can be sparked by one single happy man, making it spread into many, as a small amount of yeast ferments large quantities of dough" – By Poet
Happiness is seeing beauty in simple things.
It is drinking nectar from the wellsprings of our heart
We sense it as we listen to the sweet warbling of birds.
We see it on the beaming faces of children in gregarious company.
We feel it as we watch the clouds painted in pretty patterns and shades
In the burgundy blush of the welkin, as sun gets ready for his rest.
In the beauty of the moon, shimmering on the silvery waters.
Happiness flits round the innocent face of a babe,
As it is nestled close in the cosy warmth of its mother.
It is the sparkle seen reflected in the eyes of a mother,
As she cuddles her baby tight to her throbbing bosom.
It sneaks into young hearts with sweet whisperings of love.
It hides in deep caverns of the mind, jumping out unexpected,
But may withdraw into its secret hideout, when invited.
Happiness is something that we seek, but sadly it eludes our hold.
You and I are such individuals
Gregarious by nature and to interact
For friendship and for uniquely love
To knit and share life's happiness together
To sooth the sea's bitter
And to smooth their storms
For our hearts, voyaging safer
And souls being quiescent under cloud
To hold warm in the wind and cold
And to bypass the loneliness submerged
Gratefully to have you in the boat
The realm is beckoning us continually
Although the reefs submerge hither and thither
We still gain courage countlessly
My young blind date thought he was hilarious
His antics were corny, ridiculously overdone and nefarious
Mother thought he was charmingly gregarious.
Why don’t you date him? Suggested Uncle Darius.
Euphoric, I rush to you, Lord, unaware I'm naked.
In your presence, my physique and psyche are elated
On my way, I trampled them—thus my kith and kin complained.
In my mad, single-minded pursuit, had I gone harebrained?
Am I a rebel that I've given up all social norms?
Drunk with your thoughts, have I forgotten all gregarious forms?
My home and all within it, seem to me nonexistent.
In my sleeping and waking I've become inconsistent.
I'm filled with hallucinations of heaven day and night.
With devils and furnaces, in my nightmares, I often fight.
I feel your Spirit flowing like a stream and washing me.
From my sins of commissions and omissions, I rise free
Transcending each mundane infinitesimal dharma
That fetters me in a birth-rebirth cycle of Karma.
Like a mad mullah or like a crazy priest of Allah
In each drama, am I not seeking you, the Param Brahma?
Gregarious Giles gladly gathers garnish greens gentle Greta grows.
Haggard Harriet hardly has half her hoppity hare’s health habits.
"Injun" invective incenses indigenous individual.
Though his tone is quite gregarious
And his intent softly nefarious
He is ever so meek
His tongue in his cheek
His double entendre hilarious
He's so gorgeous, gregarious, and also generous.
He's so fine I actually want to make him all mine.
He's so sexy, so smooth and suave, I adore him when he smolders.
John, the forerunner of Christ, preached repentance and baptized.
The wrath of God, like fire, will devour the world, he said.
Hedonistic ways of humans, by his life, he revised
Axe is on trunks, he said; by devilment, don't be misled.
The world could not accept John's teachings, as his words weren't sweet.
Do children like medicines that are not sugar coated?
He is possessed. This is why he is unable to eat.
His lamb-like life was unjustly and untimely slaughtered.
Jesus was gregarious. He loved the rich and the poor.
Did they accept him? He's a glutton and drunkard, they said.
As blind in mind, they failed to see his benignant grandeur.
As he knew their psyche, with a soft smile, he went ahead.
The ways of the world are unreasonable and absurd.
The thoughts, words, and deeds of the world, always, Jesus stirred.
Happened upon black-eyed Susans,
so bright and beautiful. I stopped
and looked, snapped
a picture with my cell, drew back
breath and sighed; eyed
with appreciation, didn’t matter
where I found this gregarious garden
before I set out on
an inside adventure
with books. But stunned
by the sunny disposition
of this carefree crop,
my eyes popp’n with pure joy.
I soaked up the inverted petals.
I just wrote about your yellow suds,
and oh how they froth and yield
a smile - on my lips, in my eyes,
and my heart. How
do, perennials! I will forget your patch
but another bouquet will be dispatched.
In afterglow
I fill my bag with poets:
Hughes, Frost, Angelou, Greger
and Glück. You see
I’ve already moved on,
forgotten thee.
Leaving the library.
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