Long Waterfowl Poems

A psalm to solemnize pure tin forefathers/mothers...

Who didst unknowingly, unquestionably, 
and unwittingly script vitality
and the prologue to Thanksgiving,
(which theme poem initially written)
about three hundred and ninety seven years, 
and nine months after February third 1621,
yet...

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Wise no adulation, dedication and gratification 
   not emphasized the other three hundred and sixty four days a year
question their role as consumed end product of taxidermist, 
   gnome hatter clucks...

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Upon the lakes they do swim gliding so effortlessly   
These species of graceful waterfowl the largest of anatidae family
In their beautiful pure white plumage with elegant long curved necks
Blunted beaks and big webbed...

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WHO WERE THE PILGRIMS ?


JAMESTOWN
1607 



 Four hundred years ago high-born Brits sailed to America
Seeking fast fortunes, adventure and fame.
Many would never endure their first year here
Cultivating, foraging, and hunting game.

Arriving in Virginia they came...

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I remember you kissed me inside and out
Against he confines of a foreign couch
Drag your finger along my jaw line here
I love you so much. I feel like i'm going to get sick
I look around...

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THE FIRST THANKSGIVING



The Pilgrims held the first Thanksgiving
At Plymouth in October 1621.
The bitter winter of 1620, was over
With a loss of many father, mother, daughter or son.

Life for survivors was much better now
As a good...

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Far out to sea in the great expanse of water an island lies
Shaped like a crescent or bulls horns called the islands of the moon.

White sands blown by gentle winds and washed by azure sea
Lush...

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Bird of Prey

On Banyon Lake, where waterfowl dwell,
The night was tranquil and held no fear.
Until came a sound ascended from Hell.
I heard a menacing cry as I drew near.

Upon the shore no wave did break.
No...

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If I could wave a magic wand and make a fantasy week,
I would rent some cabins in the wilderness near a tourist town.
And fill each one with my family’s love…butterfly kissing cheeks. 
With all my...

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When Ivan the Terrible was born before he was even two
 They said of teeth he had two
Tatars said with one he will devour us
With other he will devour you

When child is born with two...

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22 June 2010

A Breakaway

 
For mankind has the power to think big
History puts them on the pedestal of their career
Aimless drifting until fatally engaged into a drilling rig
Raised a surface at the heart of the...

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Snow and Paintings              

The snow began to fall
late yesterday afternoon
first the big flakes
dropping leisurely and
building up on
the grass but melting 
as they...

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The grass, just about dry, 
 is canary, clothed in evening sun, 
now sinking beyond the colorful portrait,
canvassed on nature’s abundant spread;
a brilliant form, painted by fall’s seasoned fingers. 

The cool breeze funnels through valleys...

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Mysterious eerie visage of full moon comes forth
There is eerie wild sound coming from woods to the north
It will have its grip on soul of the night henceforth
And it will be sound underlying mystery thenceforth

It...

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Beneath a tall magnolia I sat
And watched the slender birch trees oft caressed
By wind and sunny tenderness, and blessed
With quiet air above the grassy mat. 

Beyond the trees, a tall Artesian fount
Would pour its misty...

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(Written about 2005, as a sonnet, but I cannot recall why I used 13 rather than 14 syllables per line. Maybe Petrachan? Forgive me if it fails the sonnet test.)


For My Wife and Daughters: STREAMS...

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Morning’s  misty mourning  lays her shroud upon the lake
With imprinted recollections at the end of autumns break
Copper shades reflected though the hazy hanging veil
Foretell with pastel palette of the coming winters tale

The bracing...

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The river looks calm and inviting,
 a natural gift of beauty.


Waterfowl inhabit to feed and nest.
A gateway shared by creatures,
dangers hidden beneath.


The river is beautifully calm and serene,
its powerful dangers are often unseen.
Currents can swirl...

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Be calm, exhale and listen to the whispers of the night,
Softly speaking tonight,
Is it your lover calling?
Or a shooting star falling,
The kiss of a wave against the shore,
Or the quiet closing of love's door,
Could it...

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In the tea trees to the whistling song thrush
  I alone hear the first September dawn,
and outside beyond ryegrass, fern and rush 
  glisten woolly coats of sheep early shorn. 
The petrichor and...

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So, I still
have miles to go
and poems to save,
and time to rant and rave
and snort and shout
and let it all hang out.
I’ll fuss and fume and
act the part expected, ad hoc.
I'll smooth the rankle from...

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It doesn't matter that your waters are not clearly blue.
And that I cannot see what treasures on the bottom lie.

Nor do I care that your shores are not pristine,
But are marked with litter and refuse...

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Birdwoman wore eagle, robin, osprey and owl.
In her hair, with a certain flair
Hummingbirds, swifts and waterfowl
Making their nest in her lovely hair

Birdwoman sported pelicans, penguins and egrets too
Wearing them proudly, none of them too loudly...

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