Love knows no enemies,
They all belong to hungry hate;
Whose fire of hell is losing,
Its fuel going to the tank
Of found love:
Found love,
Filling to the top with peace,
And Satan’s basin is full of holes.
No bloody hands to wash with love,
Just the washing of old tired dirty feet;
Come, let us break and share some bread:
Let us feed and serve one another in love’s need:-
when brains host more worms , evil actions become habits.
September 09/2023
Jeopardy fans are asking, “What the heck?”
While the producers try to replace Trebek.
I understand they are working harder still,
But, so far, no one has appeared to fit the bill.
How can it be so hard to find a candidate
Who has a modicum of ability to moderate?
When guests are the real stars of the show,
It’s not the host, but what contestants know
They could dub in an A.I. robot, for all I care,
It’s contestants who knock me out of my chair
I will support whomever they ultimately get
Meanwhile I watch re-runs and do not fret!
written September 8, 2021
*Hollow Hosting Feelings - Day 4*
face like pages
seeped'n smirking ink
fostering felon flips
delicate chapters drip
font feigning feasts
meager metamorphosis creep
smiles like ointment:
sturdy substance rent
saucy stench's spell
porous sequoia posture
whooshing fashion bolster
fiery limbs features
delicate gaze digs
hollow hosting feelings.
'20:02:04:04:45
Note: To Gladys, a lady who shares table with me at work place. (A fulfilled promise).
When the guests all arrive
And the food tastes okay
And the grown-ups watch football
While kids get to play…
It’s a magical day,
Calm replacing all stress
Though the clean-up awaits
And the kitchen’s a mess.
Still, such feelings of warmth
Cling to every pore
And as minutes tick by
I wish there could be more.
But we hug our goodbyes
And we load up the sink.
All that prep and excitement
Dissolved in a blink.
Today it was my turn to host
And this is what I like the most –
Although I have to shop and clean
(A little more than what’s routine)…
And brew some joe and make some lunch
(Including pre-meal snacks to munch)
And set the table up ahead
(That mostly hides behind the bed)…
Then wash the dishes when they go,
At last I take a breath and know
I’ve done my part to make the day
A cozy one to chat and play.
The bonus? I’m already home
With time enough to write my poem.
The planning, the cleaning, the shopping and then
The cooking and making things pretty.
The digging up toys for the grandkids for when
They (at last!) visit you in the city.
The setting the table and heating up food,
The waiting and counting each minute.
Then poof! They arrive and the day is imbued
With such joy you just sink yourself in it.
The curious checking of all you possess,
The snacking on foods you have ready.
The zen of the moment removing all stress,
So happy you’d like some confetti.
The playground, the playing, the laughing, the meal,
The chatting with guests over dinner,
The way that this holiday always should feel –
Whether pro as a host or beginner.
The pies and the cookies, the candies and cake,
The hugs and the kisses goodbye-ing.
The hours of clean-up, but make no mistake –
For the host job next year I’m applying!
Errant clusters germinating tightly,
I invite them in.
I welcome them.
Fighting infection is far from the possible.
Didn’t you know that laughter is infectious?
Tiny colonies spread dis-ease,
a ribbon of cellular folly along angry red flesh.
They flourish on the vanguard, quiet in the deep.
Ebola, e-coli, erroneous children born and buried.
I rest with infection running rampant.
I live with the germs enclosed.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.