A sommelier was known to whine
at pairings made with pork.
The shoulder was in fact divine,
so tender, lightly forked.
Yet she was deign to recommend
a cab or chardonnay.
Esteem I’d had came to an end
though, just the other day;
I saw her swilling Boone’s Farm wine,
complete with plastic cork.
Civilian communicator
Manager and organizer
Reckon it really is smart?
Tests for IQ hadn't passed it
Sense much it doesn't real make
Shall we announce a tender
Requirements for contenders
Who and or what judge will take
Pairings and the APIs
Monopolies marketing lies
Vs this Predator Apex
If human is website
Your slice
How will your memories
Of brain yours and enemies
Forget all that what they had seen
What does mean elaborate
Shall you forge exacerbate
The quantum eraser of screen
Your new capitcha
Extra word
If you are literate
We're talking about disparate
Literate human literate bot
cinnabar and cinnamon
strawberries and cherries
apricots and luscious mango
windchimes and crystals
hummingbirds and butterflies
sailboats and sunsets
summer nights and nuptials
AP: 3rd place 2025
It's a place where love is abound
and mutant cuddling can be found
Oversized flowers function as pods
to 'make more mutants' is given the nod
Nightcrawler took offense more than maybe
even as he was shown a stock full of babies
Oh the pairings flowed like a shower
at this sweet place known as the Bower
His picture was fake, but she was truly PHAT,
Liking her, he messaged her to chat back ASAP.
While chatting, she was shown the guy's true image: “WTH?”
she texted back to her gal pal, throwing in - SMH.
Acting all nice, she told the guy, “BRB.”
Privately she was wearing a BEG.
He believed for a short while that the girl was simply AFK.
Instead that PHAT ended up completely MIA.
March 25, 2021
for the Acronyms In Couplets Poetry Contest of L. Milton Hankins
PHAT = Pretty hot and tempting
ASAP = As soon as possible
WTH = What the heck?
SMH= Shaking my head
BRB = Be right back
BEG= Big evil grin
AFK= Away from keyboard
MIA = Missing in action
(I tried to match syllable counts per individiual couplet pairings, with the PHAT of the last line counting as four distinct syllables)
Pairings
Scotch and soda
Rum and coke
A bit of libation for all we folk
Thelma and Louise
Bonnie and Clyde
Renegades on a fatalistic ride
Bacon and eggs
Mac and cheese
Comfort food, thank you please
Black and white
Black and blue
No comment here, that’s for you
Bacharach and David
McCartney and Lennon
Imagine - songs from heaven
Lemon and lime
Salt and pepper
Spice it up - life is better
Bride and groom
Man and wife
For some, not all, a path of life
In and out
Up and down
Makes your head spin around
All these pairings that go together
Just silly words to tickle your pleasure
trees dilly-O sing.
mellow skies surmise —
they’re not quite blue, white nor gray.
knocking in front and back —
pileated woodpeckers, shockers
with crests, crafty
to home owls and bats,
like royal courts of yore
dillydally the enemy within
mine walls.
the oaks shade their eyes,
press into my panes,
scratch during a storm,
rain on my parade.
yet, I can’t help...but adore
the pines and oaks,
ivy that wraps serpentine around bark,
wild flowers ready to leap
on ballet toes,
touch my nose with romantic scent.
so Spring,
the sachet of hidden things,
like a freeze game come to life
with intrigue, potentiality
of pairings — doves, robins,
crows and the like.
what if i could climb the tall trunk
high, below the unseen clouds —
easy does it.
my hair sailing like a pirate.
my grin foolhardy.
my heart doesn’t know what it needs.
it needs trees.
2/27/2021
Blank sheet, taunting me
Daring the person I used to be
To blurt it out, let words flow free
But too deep into my insecurity
I have drowned, no hope for me
What happened to my pen and pad therapy
My safe place, infiltrated by doubt
Nothing from within, brave enough to come out
Generic pairings of letters seeking clout
Simple ramblings, who knows what they’re about
Any ounce of approval, no matter the amount
Rusty thoughts like the abandoned Tin Man
Cobwebbed brain needing “oil can”
Hoping out there is just one fan
Follow through, girl, you made a plan
Clouds of Pairings
non duality
the sages say
is highest expression
of Reality..
it is negation
of separation
of multiplicity..
well..?
our intuition of
unity..recognizes
that words limit
cloud
and separate..
all words..!
words recall words
of opposition:
heaven/earth
wave/particle..
you know more..
non duality
the sages say
is highest expression
of Reality..
it is a negation
of separation
of multiplicity..
still..Truth eludes..
finding Silence...!
SETI
SETI is non-sense. Intelligences we have experienced visiting us in Unexplained Aerial Phenomena evolved so very, very long ago that any electro-magnetic radiation
They may have manipulated have long ago dissipated beyond the detection
Of our receivers.
We observe quantum “phenomena,” and have even manipulated
This ?“Spooky action at a distance.”
To our visitors this realm of reality is the fabric of their civilization.
Their communications aren’t mystical telepathy, they exist entangled between energies’ pairings.
How then can our multi-billion dollar ears hear that which exists in realities beyond our
Technological senses?
Somehow they and their vehicles translate into quantum energies,
Able to communicate, even commute through “matter”
Across the universe.
If we survive, we have billions of years of catching up to do.
? Albert Einstein, 1930
Our old clothes are stained rags,
Filled with holes, torn from snags,
Hung from bones since we were born,
Totally tattered and overly worn
But a new wardrobe has been bought,
Paid for with blood—that of the Begot,
Hung from a cross all beaten and bruised
To give us the following, each garment new:
Patience is our pants (both start with letter P)
Our shirt? Think sober of self, a.k.a. humility
Walk in forgiveness (how else shall bitterness lose?)
—Makes sense that it's our socks and shoes
A kindness coat gives an impression that lingers
Mercy and meekness: mittens for fidgeting fingers
I made these pairings, most off the top of my head,
But God stitched them with love, a most powerful thread
Sweet Dawn Kisses
Woven patterns of
tapestry blushings,
threaded pairings of
non-metallic shimmering
wait beyond -
soft feathered breaths, hazed visions,
flowing on a pale horizon,
weeping within a forecast of darkness -
dreaming only of the light
draping gun metal skies
in effervescent brocade blooms
Moon glow sonatas
echo between pearl drop
starscapes whispering
a fond farewell -
and a songbird choir
harmonizes with glistening dew drops,
reflecting sweet dawn kisses
on plum petal cheeks
as morning returns
finding you in my arms
once again
Good morning Soupers
Tinted glass whimsies
Seductive slowly spun
kaleidoscopic pairings
changing in illumined awareness,
tinted glass whimsies
“How far can you bend the light?”
Sculpting temptation,
seeking colored fancies
in cylindrical designs
consistently different
“Do you dream in color?”
Mosaic contours flow,
prismatic burst of joy,
variegated vivid visions,
not alike another
“Is your heart the variable?”
Passion is vibrant
intensely hued brilliance
ever changing within
twisting and turning patterns
"Did you know sunsets could dance?"
Painting evening heavens
amethyst shades,
moonbeam reflections
woven in stardust eyes
“Nothing ever appears the same when you are in love”
Good night Soupers
To mill pond at dawn's new day
rippling sunbeams over the calm surface play
freely amongst the stately swans gliding there
in contented pairings, turning sees' a hare
and leveret munching on borage and honeycombs
breakfasting, as a polluted tributory stream foams
with poisonous effluence five hundred yards away
to mill pond at dawn's new day
Ecclesiastes 3:1 [King James Version of the Bible]
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the
heaven:
Prayer makes man human for in our innocence, we pray.
Knowing, that we're limited in sincerity; we seek.
Palm to palm, oft on our knees, childless, we of clay convey
the hope for healthy children to the Universe, we speak.
Our pairings blessed, our off-springs bloom, each yin seeks a yang.
Coupled moving forward walking hand and hand, yang calls to yin.
All we've known is but a part, a grain, falling from His hand;
adult children pray oft on their knees since, we are akin.
Around and round the cycle rolls in Universes untold
whether the parts know or seek the whole, still they grow, and go.
Yet, only the sentient pray and dream, eyes half open, behold
the Eternal wonder of creation, yet ... who knows, who knows?
Does the quark pray for a quark, does the sun pray for decay
does the Universe seek black holes? Who can say, who can say?
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