Torment storms turn light into darkness
A once-bustling steel city now drowns in feebleness
Meanwhile, data centers are on the rise
Yet, there is no power-only murky water, noisome refrigerators, and teary eyes
Looters punching the clock and going to work
Nights and days are frightening with lingering pain and hurt
Stirring echoes of Katrina making its way through the Midwest
Scary. Very scary tensions for all the residents of a city in unrest
And their biggest star was a white boy named
A Quiet Field in Autumn stood —
Unrumored — and unknown —
Till Sudden Thunder split the Sky
Where modest Seeds were sown —
The Mighty Wind from tropic Seas
Came roaring — proud — and Warm —
Yet met a Chill from Prairie Air
And faltered — in its Storm —
No Laurel Crown announced the Lad —
No Herald spoke his Fame —
A freckled Flash — from Nowhere sprung —
And set the Night aflame —
The Giants stared — the Crowd drew Breath —
The Tempest lost its Claim —
For Glory loves the Hidden Path —
And seldom signs its Name —
I'm writing this long letter
to a mysterious stranger,
I'm staring at her beautiful picture
with some tingling sense of rapture!
Patty lives in Bloomington, Indiana;
it's such a lovely town, not like Elmira
where homeless people roam and sleep
on sidewalks and apartments are cheap!
We've never met and exchanged glances,
I can imagine when that actually happens;
our warm hands won't keep from touching,
our joy can surely be expressed in feeling!
Patty lives in Bloomington, Indiana
it's hundreds of miles away and Diana
can't wait to move there with Danny,
they both adore their new-born baby!
I'm a city rambler and I'm used to people's jeers,
and moving fast I tread on the wide city streets;
silence drives me nuts, noises is what I crave:
it's good for the solitary guy hiding in the cave!
Patty lives in Bloominghton, Indiana;
all I have is this photo and a single wish
that she might write back and not swish
this silly dream whenever I lie to Sara!
politics
is strictly for hicks
in French Lick
______________________
population: 1,720 (2020)
1807 (2010)
famous for: home of Larry
Bird, one of the greatest
basketball players in NBA
history, aka 'The Hick from
French Lick!'
Indiana Kibble Kat was the kind of a professor that….
Taught us about adventure with a tip toe tat.
Regaling us with stories pulled out of his hat
Amazing us with his pet vampire bat.
We never had a better teacher than Professor Kat.
"They cut my leaves,
they cut my trunk
they dropped my headdress,
But they didn't pull out my roots...
So I went on living"...!
PS: Potiguara surviving group of Indians who inhabit Baia da Traiçao, Paraiba Brazil
The garden is slowly reviving herself.
Waking up from her nightly slumber.
Showing her pinks, purples, yellows and greens.
Mariah the Merry Maid faces the sun.
Wondering whether she will need to water.
Will the dew be enough?
A reverent silence surrounds Mariah and her garden.
She takes a minute to reintroduce herself to daybreak.
Knowing daybreak will never disappoint.
The night shadows are quickly being erased by the sun.
The rays land on her back, encouraging and uplifting her.
It will be another fantastic day in Indiana.
Wild geese
wade in flooded field
Indiana
Babes
flesh of her
with the audacity
to crown themselves
lords
if not gods
masters of all
all
natural
fools
at her feet
As every kingdom falls
Nature alone
knows immortality
circa 2005
The cecadas call merily
Across green fields of maize
While a humid Haze settles
Underneath a burning sun
The wind blows hot and meager
To escape the relentless burn
But cloudless skies give no respite
inviting all; but fooling none
The daylight is far from over
Saved for the work that's needs to be done
The Grass needs mowed and gardens sewed
Before we have our fun
But in the evening breifly
at orange end of day
The fireflys light up the night
And signals time to play
Haiku 60 – Indiana Summer
Indiana
orange roadside lilies
rural splendor
Indiana
elephant’s eye corn
no tassels yet
Indiana
endless green soybean fields
rich farmland soil
a strange beauty
stark yet soothing vistas
Indiana
For SKAT – OZ’s “summer poems” contest...
Indiana Jones Makes a Visit
By Elton Camp
A wealthy French landowner was extremely excited
To explore his caves, a professor asked to be invited
“That man is the greatest archaeologist of our age.
This is certain to put my name on the front page.”
So a good impression he would make on the man
Jacques ordered his caves to be spick and span
So, to one of his workers, he gave the command
“Use the power wash & clean up good as you can.”
And here is something I especially want to mention
All those drawings on the walls give special attention
“If the cave has graffiti, he might think that I’m a lout
Instead of a person of culture, intelligence & clout.”
Gary, Indiana is the town where I grew up
Aftermath of gang battles designed our streets
Rage, rap, and rivalry were the three R’s that we learned at school
Yet, this was my hometown, the town where I grew up
In the town where I grew up
Non-violence was considered a thing of the past
Drug dealers and female callers assembled at each corner as men back when
gathered to march
In the town where I grew up
Adolescents were just first round picks for growing gangs
Neighborly love and peace was out of the question
Accidents and incidents were a regular occurrence in this town yet nevertheless this
was my town, the town where I grew up
Travelling the world,
Seeking the mystical poetess,
No Tomb too dark or scary,
No too evil Nazi so wary...
This Jewel must be returned
To the Soup Treasury....
(add your verse, sil' vous plait!) Email me @ [email protected] for me to
amend.
plain boy,easy time
just pine away,love song rites
and be still,captive
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