Who needs to be a rider
racing 'round a track
way back in the crowd
I'm going to lead the pack
who needs to be a loser
spinning on their wheels
or yield pole position
I'm going to lead the field
and wear the yellow jersey
the one who wins your heart
no longer in a supporting role
I'll have the starring part
and if you'll be my leading lady
and I'm your leading man
I'll always be upfront
always in the van
Don’t fold me on-the-fold,
on the crease well-marked.
I’m tired of swans and cranes,
of being shaped into
your cookie cutter shapes,
pressed into the dough.
Let me be the mirrored sea.
The tranquil lake of high country.
The field of grass at dawn,
undisturbed by quake of breeze.
Let me be the elixir scent of flowers,
untainted by stench of memories.
The blue sky reaching to the far horizon,
with no hint or tint of clouds.
Let me be the pure fresh page,
you turn, flat nascent smooth,
for your Origami.
went to toronto
to see a doctor
gettin oldt so some
changes that occur
are intellectual yet
of a growth period
that spans beyond
my past philosophies
to a poetic oldt-age
vision of all realities
in which subjectivity
equals all objectivity
len
Call it what you will
But I know exactly where I have been
You have stripped away my zeal and well me up with Nippon steel
The knife is at his throat and travelers are loading in a big boat
Where they are going, I don’t know
But they are getting ready for the burning man’s show
The shackles have been taken away
And we are celebrating a brand-new day
But you have come to steal their joy away
From whence did this act come.
It was there from the pilgrimage began
When diversity is on the run
You have cleared off all the kitchen shelves
And left them standing on the edge
But as swift as the birds can fly
The heavens have listened to their passionate cry.
We are not to be blamed for your age-old dirty games
You must re-install the diversity equity inclusion program
Or the heavens will nail you by the thump, before the year is done.
Black history is global history, and you cannot deny it
The world has witnessed it!
_______________
Zaahid sharaab peene de masjid mei baith kar,
Yaa vo jagah bataade jahaañ par khudaa na ho.
Priest, let me sit in a mosque with my pint,
Or show me a place without His footprint.
- Ghalib (1797-1869)
_____________________________
If you think you’re discreet on drink,
O my foolish mind, think
And show me just a single thing
Not intoxicating.
Everything has bagful of life,
Packing punch sharp as knife.
So should ye wish to celebrate
The festival of existence,
Each place fit for party,
As festive is every instance.
__________________
Reflections |26.12.2024|life, God, drink
he sits in front of us with his family
nice touch but then it is evident from
his long pig face
that there; has been some foul play
the sweet woman welcomes us before
proceedings with a monologue of length
i stare at the seat in front of me
cake wasted and my wife brings a Coca Cola
the bloke is the first to applaud
the introduction with idiotic enthusiasm
and his son notices and they high-five
i should have brought nunchucks
the second half is boring
white bread stuff
my son is asleep
yawntastic
never move your eyebrows when talking
She prowled the night horizon sniffing for prey
oh, my here it came, happy hey, hey, hey, hey!
She and her pack tore the animal quickly in half.
So glad to be dining on a baby giraffe.
They laughed their hideous song into the night.
Some would say this does not feel right.
Especially the mother who was looking for her babe.
But Africa is every bit as vicious as the Everglade.
The hyenas were loving their feast, they had to eat too.
Their stomachs were full, as they dug through the goo.
They enjoyed the tiny prey as only a hyena can.
Hyenas can be almost as vicious as a Safari gun man
Do you move in pack?
People does!...
People of the same interest
Same religion
Many by societal
Others by muse
Everyone belongs to a group
Knowingly or unknowingly.
Even lions and wolves
Moves in pack
Supporting each other
Hunting another
While protecting one and another
Against external forces
Fiercely and fearlessly from time to time.
People come together
For a common goal
Either for good or evil
Supporting each other
Positively or negatively
Moving around together
Striving and thriving
Protecting their common interest.
jim-dandy jingoist’s jolly jargon
jeopardizes jittery Jerry’s jiffy jurisdiction.
Jubilant joyful jongleur jerks judge Jones’
judgement. jam-packed jury jeers joyfully
a jabberwocky.
Do not eat my lunch
I have seven shrimps and
Five thousand ten rice.
i am a dog mom
recliner full of wet dog
queen bee of the pack
the dogs are waiting to see my next move
they follow me from room to room
from mailbox to porch
from porch to art studio
I am their pied piper
they have a daddy, and they love him
but unless he is beside the refrigerator, they are mine
my own pack; my protectors, my babies
If daddy has the refrigerator open, they leave me temporarily
because they know they can get baloney, chicken and hot dogs
all they have to do is turn on their begging eyes.
He is easy, like me
the dogs travel behind me from room to room
as if I am a kite and these three are my ribbons
my husband calls me the pied piper
they like your smell, he tells me.
I have no idea what it is, but they adore me
including me in their pack, and I feel honored
I am a bonafide certified mommy-fied leader of a dog pack.
They currently sit at my feet waiting to see what we will do next.
Beau our newbie is the only renegade who keeps running from the pack.
He has never had the run of six acres before, and he loves it.
Sophie, our old lady cocker is sedate and stoic…
unless another member gets too close, then she gives a guttural
warning growl.
She is proud to be the matriarch.
Buddy at one hundred and sixteen pounds could take all of us.
But he is a gentle giant, going with the flow, letting the new baby manhandle him.
Beau at five months, attacks his big bro and often
Play biting his leg and his undercarriage.
They run from couch to couch, moving furniture as they go.
I am super proud to be a bonafide certified mommy-fied leader of a dog pack.
In midwinter nights on mountain heights, with pride he sits alone. Where the ridges are steep, a watch he keeps for every flesh and bone. As lord of the pack, he has earned respect of all young and old.
In total grandeur and extreme allure, under the moonlight he howls. His prey he kills with ruse and skill, in a true work of art. A magnificent beast in the wild unleashed, with a free spirit and heart.
His pack will obey to come or stay, when they hear his distant howls. A lord by right with beauty and might, but a predator to be feared. A master of art, cunning and smart, by all should be revered.
Saleh Ben Saleh
Related Poems