One may goes onward
Stands still and look forward
Goes backward in life.
If more is less
while less is more
How much less than more
is in stock at your store
as if I didn't know that it's too late now to admire the spectacle of the fringes of sunlight falling oily and golden over the backbone of the mountains on the horizon...
or that it has become impossible to enthusiastically appreciate the catalytic smile of every human being who has finally found the reason for his life in another person...
late to enjoy the enchanting sight of the savagery of the elements as winter advances violently on an autumn that says goodbye shyly...
feel the mind-blowing impact of sea water when the weather is warm and the thick, salty liquid envelops every cell eager for the coolness of the waves...
the time has come to make an inventory of each of the wonders of the human odyssey on earth and try to extract from them what can still serve as a pleasure to the nostalgic memory
Never eager for glory
less be piece of history
God's son my inventory
In my poetic inventory
To the earth i leave
my lovely body, to
wind the dust
of my dreams...
To the sea nothing
I leave of concrete,
but I offer it
my sympathy...
To heaven I wave a
so long, to
stars a wave of friendship...
To my angels my
tenderness ...
To men
my advice and
to my women
most intimate
verses...!
Inventory: One fluffy cat. Fifteen small colored mice.
Twelve balls. Ten assorted toys. One tall scratch post.
and one cat fountain. All these the cat never uses !
One cat bed. Three floor cushions. A stuffed cat friend.
Fourteen squeaky gray mice distributed in rooms.
All much loved! Four brushes and fourteen bowls ... !
_______________
August 10, 2021
Poetry/Light Verse/The Cat's Inventory
Copyright Protected, ID 08-1380-046-10
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bite Size Poem No 17
sponsor, Line Gauthier, Judged 08/19/2021
Honorable Mention
I do not have
apparent estates,
fungible assets,
Farm, cattle
boats ...
I don't live in
sumptuous mansion,
luxury flat,
I live in socks
waters, four
distressed walls ...
I shelter daughters and grandchildren
on the living room table
tight ... alive
tight and not
I have a bungalow ...
But if we discuss of
invisible holdings, I have
a lot: thousands
of songs I love
and short ... dozens
of books read and reread,
hundreds of poems
I did and I do ...
Words, verses
and rhymes are portion
of my vast
repertoire of a
soul rich in soulful
effluvia and replete of
noble feelings ...!
Maybe this is it
Our time to do an inventory check
Of what is important
Of what messes with our soul
What's irrelevant
We might also neglect things
We thought were important
Cause honesty they never were
So maybe all those lightweight relationships
We thought were integral
Just lost all their shine
Because we had to take stock
Of our happiness in our homes
Without chasing those flighty or fickle ones
©wilmaneels
©10062020
A group of students
Saw a need for
Socail change.
They thought
It wise to speak
Of a different way
To convey messages
They wanted
To hear facts
That would support
The development
Of a undergrad college
Internship that would
Allow students to
Devolpe socail media
Shows and television
And Radio programming
To give voice to their
Concerns, and considerations.
These outlets would allow
Students training and
Experience. It would
Allow programs to be
Developed to speak of
The concerns that
Students face.
I am surrounded by:
Pirate women,
Wild women,
Belly dancers,
Flappers,
Steampunk women
Haughty women,
Pony-tailed women,
Gardening women,
Faerie women,
Handywomen,
Irish women,
Ninja women,
Cleopatra-like women,
Majorettes,
Circus performing women,
Cat women,
60’s women,
Teacup women,
Hippie women,
Mermaids,
African American women,
Dragon-taming women,
Pet owner women,
Cats, dogs, dragons, and unicorns,
Jack-0-lanterns, and Dracula,
All drawn and painted by me in the last four years.
Keg full of monkey j*zz
Jar packed with grime
Little tank of tiny turtles
Pot of slug slime.
Shaker full of flea larvae
Small box of moss
Squeeze-tube of mushy meat
Flask of dog sauce.
Leeches in a cookie tin
Ice tray of blow
Now can you play to win
This cooking show.
What have you stolen?
What tic, what response from me
did you palm and put in your pocket?
What have you stolen?
Did you collect the bits of paper you tore off
and paste them back together
on a blank page of your notebook?
Did you use the shreds as easter grass,
or as packing material?
Did you do something useful with them?
What have you stolen?
Do you cherish the fragments you’ve collected?
Do you have something fond to look back on?
What have you stolen?
Was it my eyelashes? my nerve endings?
my proprioception? my cartilage?
my chewed-off fingernails?
Do you keep a formaldehyde jar-full
of my intestines?
Do you hide them in a rotting shoebox?
What have you stolen?
Did I ever have something so precious
that you had to sever it from me to keep for yourself?
What have you stolen?
Was it difficult to choose?
Was it difficult to carry?
Was it difficult to hide it from me when I came looking?
Did you take everything from me
that you meant to?
Was it worth the effort?
Do you have what it takes
Do you have stage legs
That won’t break?
Can you make eye contact
Do you know the difference
Between compare and contrast?
Can you weather the storm
In spite of illusionary harm?
If you meet all the criteria than you’re the one
Who’s conquered inferior and your
Confidence is superior
INVENTORY
Are you
growing old with grace?
this would seem to be ideal
among the ancient –
living style with wide appeal,
mental powers all in place
Well
take inventory.
how about deformity,
forgetfulness,
pain, its enormity?
broken down, is that the story?
Is there
a need for escape –
glory in the childhood years,
the times of fun and games
to soften your present fears?
inventory taking shape?
Do you have
loss of direction,
occasional drooling,
and prone to heartburn,
with constant trouble stooling,
burning need for correction?
Do these bother you -
rising cost of gas,
children making loud noises,
just any rock band,
people with piercing voices,
on the highway getting passed?
Are you
growing old with grace,
ancient brought up to present,
keeping up with times,
no struggle to be pleasant,
or old, trying to keep pace.
WELL
let me tell you this,
few there are so endowed
among the ancient
as to prosper in the crowd
with perfect health, life of bliss
SO
crack open a smile
share aches and pains with the crowd
let out your anger
in company, good and loud
let misery be your style
Inventory, Inventory,
everything is for the glory
Innocence, my innocence
e'er bequeathing recompense!
Where but deny ~ my own expense
the cost of trial in motion's hence?
Oh innocence ~ my heart's own fence
was crumpled ~ from without's consent!
Ne'er more, ne'er more ~ the hoaxed pretense,
reveal the scourge
the scourger's meant!
Oh Innocence, my innocence ~
. . . . .the inventoried soul's relent!
Go to ~ www.larouchepac.com
Data about missing kids rings!
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