I was trying to be debonair,
but my feet proved an unwieldy pair.
I fell flat on my face
but recovered with grace.
Then I danced like the great Fred Astaire.
springtide …
blows a tender kiss
tickling blossoms on a plum branch
to loose their grasp, giggling
whirling and winding in
the sun like drunken, gilded pixies
capricious in their flight
a whimsical drift -
aromatic and elegant …
flawless, like the wishes of a child
floating to purpose, afar -
to alight on a dream
enigmatic, joyous, true …
as blessed in their journey as they
are in the order of their
exquisite design -
as charmed in their prospect
as they are in their
perfect, resplendent sacrifice …
sacred essence of being
lifeblood of existence -
the bright, brisk
glorious morning breath of
nature …
itself.
Copyright © 2022 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
THE PATHETIC AND DEMONIC
BEHAVIOR OF THOSE WHO AGREE
AND BELIEVE IN HATRED ,
ANAMOSITY AND VIOLENCE AGAINST
THOSE WHO DISAGREE WITH THEIR
PSYCHOTIC IDEOLOGIES THAT ARE
DESTROYING THE COUNTRY AND
THE WORLD WILL ULTIMATELY HAVE
TO FACE THEIR CREATOR AND STAND
TRIAL FOR THEIR BEHAVIOR AND CRIMES.
THEIR PUNISHMENT WILL EXCEED
THEIR EXPECTATIONS AND
IMAGINATION . THEIR EXPULSION
FROM THIS WORLD WILL GO BEYOND
THE LIMITS AND BARRIERS OF TIME
IT'S SELF AND THE UNIVERSE OF
CELESTIAL BEING AND THE UNIVERSE
IN WICH WE RESIDE.
ALL THAT WILL REMAIN FOR THOSE
WHO WORSHIP HATRED IS THEIR
OWN HATRED TOWARDS HATRED.
CHARLIE KIRK , MAY THE LORD
ALWAYS BE BY YOUR SIDE.
Michael E Harris
09102025
You may not believe it, but some float through life like a dream,
Dressed in fine fabrics, like stars in the silver sky.
They taste the fruit of life, without thirst, without hunger,
Sleeping under wings of tranquility, in the palace of serene night.
Around them, time weaves like a tapestry of peace,
Family shelters them like a tree under which flowers grow.
They too have shadows of sadness, but they are fleeting,
And when they depart, it's like a feather falling in its gentle flight.
You may not believe it, but such souls exist,
I am not one of them, no, not even close.
They are there, floating in their gentle light,
I am here, on a path lost to smoke and wind.
In their world, stars whisper stories without end,
In mine, the echo of silence rings like an old bell.
They are where rivers flow without losing their call,
I am where water gathers in tears of longing.
But perhaps in this cosmic, hidden and profound dream,
Between two breaths, we will meet, shadows and light.
Maybe in this dance of destiny, we will find each other,
Like two constellations shining in the eternal sky.
Hi January
I miss you
ah, not you
but January. I miss May,
who smiled in the flower field
to the strains of the melancholic song
that played in my head at that time.
Hi May, let's go together again to January
so I can see you again
spinning merrily
among those swings.
Hello May
You will sit again by the North Sea
catching the tide
as I loved it.
And May,
walk again in the dim lights of the old city
with your steps in those white shoes
and I with the night drizzle,
admiring you then.
And now the drizzle is falling
Missing you again
In the alternating drizzle
my son is having weekly online lessons. with
a tutor. that is an assertive declarative fact.
and so is the asiatic toad.
ploughing represents life.
clumsy, stumbling stuff
i now own five different lanyards around my neck
and can get into many places with confidence.
cullinan diamond.
the tutor is a university student. he asks, 'my dad
wants to know what music university students
are listening to nowadays.'
she replies, 'soft rock and pop.'
what happened to the Plastic Ono Band?
May and Might
two stealthy words
emptying the
words which follow
assigning them
to the immediate
appearances which
they already are~~
If I had a time machine, I would visit Samuel T Coleridge
My favorite poet of all time, the author or Kubla Khan
"The wailing of his demon lover” sticks in my mind
Delighting me every time, especially today, May 1st, 1803.
As I was speaking to Samuel, his pal William Wordsworth would drop in
They would ask me if I wanted to write a ballad with them.
I would be thunderstruck with happiness but too shy to do it
However, I would clap in rhythm as they created
Wordsworth would talk about his deep love of the
“Beauteous forms of the natural world”
I would be amazed by their vocabulary
They would both blow my mind out into the hills
I would set my time machine to 1858 next.
To visit Jules Verne, one of my favorite authors.
I would ask him how he thought to create
Around the world in eighty days and twenty leagues under the sea.
Amazed that we still speak of him in 2025,
he would have a zillion interesting questions to ask me
I would set the time machine to year 1868 next. .
My last stop would be to visit Louisa May Alcott, author of Little Women.
A young girl entered the first grade hoping to learn how to spell using ABC's
But try as she may she could never spell those long tricky words until Miss
Cartolano lent her flash cards for home. Suddenly it became easy as pie.
Does AI predict remedy
to all problems- difficulties
regarding mind , brain and body ?
explaining Einstein - Socrates !
AI sprouting from high I.Q.
Intelligence from emotion
or from soul waits vain in queue
also, social interaction .
AI holds confusing conundrum
to compete human intellect
twined with instinct flown at random.
Hence considered as imperfect.
A.I. is intelligence-aid,
neither panacea nor pain :
Use A.I only if needed,
when your intellect can't explain.
As the light entwines with the shadows fine
Feeding my fire..I believe.! Is The Lord Devine; who takes us
Higher.' I've no axe to grind..As was in former times.'
I am open to listen.'
I can see a rich glisten.. at the periphery of my
Indeed Limited vision.' Was that a wolf.' Or a
Brother.? May confusion not smother.' the
Sharing of visions,i let there be faith not
Derision...All humanity He made them..From
One Word." truly amazing.)
From here to beyond eternity
I’ll roam this earth to find you
~ in storm or clement weather
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Tossing and turning all night
recently had the strangest dreams
recalling them in broad daylight
don’t know what they mean
wrecked by a stacked deck
of bottom-dealt cards
I was under the gun
attacked by a pack of hungry wolves
had me on the run
lost in the woods and couldn't see
the forest for all the trees
mocked by a flock of tar-black crows
had me on my knees
and tho' the Gods may be crazy
staring out from on high
they do look after their own it's true
for drunkards children and fools such as I
Month May summons spring, May flowers bring May showers, May laughs in flowers.
May I return when nights come
And off the furious outside mind
And lit beams inside of some kinds
They sparkle calmness as seeds sprout
And shine as the moonlit torches the soul
I am sure of these moments of aliveness
As bright as the crystallized world of unseen
ln a sudden mode, hilarious could flow
Else, fade off tiredness irrational foes
Many times, I hate to mention this in poems
As hypocritical as some chinese trouble
Specific Types of May Poems
Definition | What is May in Poetry?