Broke dumpster fire in Los Angeles !
Burnt vigorous Pacific Palisades.
Apocalyptic !
Weird ! Catastrophic !
Wild fire or something else ! Can you guess ?
Arboreal chum noodle trunk gesticulating
Male pattern baldness syndrome squiggles
Trigonometry Palisades uneven ripple
Framework salmon people
Rise evangelical steeple
Pigmentation feeble
Hillock molehills
Hedgerow backyards
Autumnal equinox
Palisades Palestine
Raging fires Raging fires
mansions destroyed Babies burned
a million tears the dead cannot cry
the winds are whispering the bombs are laughing
who stole your water supply? no aid allowed in
terrifying, natures justice Americas politicians sign the bombs
your Big Mac was burned while complete villages destroyed
a few people perished hundreds of thousands slaughtered
fools denying climate change fools committing genocide
missing a little water are we? missing hospitals, children covered in
blood
your white Jesus turned it to wine Bethlehem under Zionist siege once more
go see the Resnicks go see Netanyahu
they stole most of your resources he stole human organs, like a genocide
before
you suffered a few days Palestinians suffered 76 years
poetic justice Poets shot in the head
why should I care? when the USA sends billions
you will rebuild the mansions innocent lives, lost forever, by your hand
in crime
In the shadow of the Palisades, where fire ambers flicker and burn/
cities ignite, nevermore to excite never to return/
neighborhoods wrapped in a storm, memories won't fade/
evacuate, evacuate, fleeing through the storm of smoke/
Children with no schools to embrace, "Mommy, where will we live?"/
innocence lost, crying in the ash/
Santa Ana winds howl, destruction painted in flames, each blaze a beast, ripping apart the heart of L.A/
A symphony of sorrow, where pets wander, cats and dogs, faithful companions, lost in the chaos of an apocalyptic event/
Men and women, firefighters, first responders, heroes draped in resilience, charging into the inferno, with hearts ablaze, fighting for the fragile, for the life that flickers In the depths of despair and rage/
Charging into the flames, Brave souls weaving hope through fire and smoke/
OH HELL ON EARTH IS HERE!
The fire next time...
is now here with its ember...,
soaring through the skies…
Evacuation
has become from hell to hell
in the palisades…
Flames of hell on earth,
ape bastard suns in the night;
reality stunned:-
Hell’s fire flaming…
Perspective being consumed;
Hope being burned up…
It’s winter, but hot!
Like hell, fires love all seasons;
Devastation pleased:-
In the hari-kari palisades
drink of choice, lemonade
Enter the lion-plated stadium
a cache discovered, puranium
Up here, down there, all's a riot
in the center, suffocation-quiet
Where you've been and where you're going
robotic monkeys perfect their sewing
Ticking squirt guns shpritz their stuff
H2O everywhere, lawns a-fluff
And in the hari-kari palace, aides
drink in the view, cascades of everglades
A lovely walk, a promenade leads the way
Burnt orange succulents stand like bushes serene
Crushed tepid deep, whitewash stirs up behind the scenes
Delightful blends of blue sky in-between
Entwined the seaweed branching out for a reach
Finely tuned trumpet sounds of swoosh on the beach
Glassy prisms beam through dark shades
Horizon blended ocean, sky, behind palisades
Intruders running 'round, sand in face
Jelly fish glow and charm with grace
Krutsinger Island, the sign reads
Lover’s bed and breakfast needs
Men and woman frolicking in the water
Naked babies cry out with laughter
Oceanic mammals creep by
Palm trees, flowing, occupy
Quietly recedes then tosses its sea
Rentals, beachcombers welcome
Surfers ride their boards for fun
Tingling with a cooling breeze
Umbrella of waves, high tides come and go
Verdant colors make for radiant seascape
Whales bellowing blow show
Xanadu paradise plan your escape
Yachting, sailing, tagging and more
Zanzibar coastal getaway tours
LORD'S PRAYER
Life’s flailing hope falters in awhile, losing its flickering lights
On the spots of so many catastrophes and evil strife,
Roaring thunder, lightning or storm may surge to strike; but
Daily prayers are palisades surrounding all whisperers, who by heart recite.
Strong shelters to comfort with limitless strength in towering delight.
Pray without ceasing, giving thanks in all circumstances -says 1 Thessalonians,
Remember the best prayer taught by our Good Lord Jesus Christ;
Always praise Him with thanksgiving, knock humbly His Sacred Heart,
Yearn omnipresent protection of God , His saving grace… guidance.
Express earnest desire for the Holy Spirit to dwell in us.
Run to “our Father in Heaven”, trust Him in the midst of trials.
Sept. 15,2021
11.24pm
-not for a contest/just wrote a poem for the acronym of my initials
Emboldened metal torso dusts her in pink Himalayan flecks
Her mahogany neck persuaded to turn in his grip
Rendering fragrant dark bite from her deep spice chest
The two infused together perfect a harmonious marriage
Her mahogany neck persuaded to turn in his grip
Seasoning lamb's tendered flesh, in a glistening delight
The two infused together perfect a harmonious marriage
Chef, shaker, and grinder bow in sumptuous applause
Seasoning lamb's tendered flesh, in a glistening delight
Refined palate and palisades of sharpened cutlery adorn
Chef, shaker, and grinder bow in sumptuous applause
The curtains drawn, lights hushed in reverie and sighs
Refined palate and palisades of sharpened cutlery adorn
Rendering fragrant dark bite from her deep spice chest
The curtains drawn, lights hushed in reverie and sighs
Emboldened metal torso dusts her in pink Himalayan flecks
The other night I dreamed of spiraling downward,
But the earth delayed rising up to receive me.
I watched my unending fall into masses of despair
Falling rapidly, I found that I could not flee;
I could only hope that “better angels” would prevail,
That I would be spared this ultimate catastrophe.
The sudden dashing of my bones and blood
Into the seething cauldron of anger at the barricades,
I became embedded with the riff-raff insurrectionists
[For those two hours of storming the palisades]
Who were not impetuous youths or young idealists,
But malcontents gathered from all types and trades.
When I awakened I found myself suspended in limbo
Not discerning where I had been or what it could mean,
Until I recognized the statue of Lady Liberty atop
The shining golden dome that rises from the green;
Realizing how awfully close, like democracy, I had come
To disappearing into the disastrous and never again seen.
Revised and Edited March 31, 2021
Bookshop Contest
sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
September 23, 2022
Submitted to: "One from the Dark Side" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
Brooklyn Cyclone number nine
Is not ready to decline
Clipity clop it climbs
Into the blue sky where the sun shines
Until it turns orange while enjoying evening wine
There is magic in the air
Summer loving with the one who cares
Flashing lights all around
Tradition of a rural community fairground
Instead this is on an island
Architectural feats worth admiring
Outside the big city
That never accepted any pity
National League remembers the past
Mets audition potential players to cast
As all the cotton candy melts
Everyone with a hot dog can’t tighten their belts
In the middle to a season
Enjoying weather supposedly pleasing
Where relaxation is the reason
Cousin Brucie
Has rocking facts that are juicy
About that Palisades Park
That was a long trip for the late Dick Clark
Brooklyn Cyclone number nine
Takes the big drop right on time
Screams are heard
By the flying birds
Down on the beach
Where NYC is in reach
******This old post deserves another posting, I tried to convey the tragedy of war and is hauntingly reflecting of current world affairs; ...'Where once stood great Love' is my favourite line; the word 'once' is given emphasis towards the insanity of intentional destruction, and a once beautiful place is forgotten and lost forever. I think the last line and the idea of rebuilding from war's destruction is the notion that its best to evolve past the whole possibility of war, so that the rebuilding is permanent...******
A distant wood grows its gossamer,
A near vale,
wetted and forgotten
cries alone,
where rains fall forever ----
Where once babes lay down
in the cool of grasses green,
and a brook,
where once rippled
an elven tune of old;
Now silent as the seasons here,
where once stood great Love,
on a throne of gold,
midst the broken palisades and halls ----
a near vale (now)
wetted and forgotten,
Only the breeze of sad memory....
the weeded roads and rubble ----
whisper from their ashes,
" Let us rebuild what war has claimed "
The heavens scent of layers varnish,
upon layers then grow and tarnish,
like a stockade wrapped with palisades.
A battlement inside playing charades;
as the volume gets louder - louder,
won't turn off or fade. Battering
turbulence that goes on for hours.
You can hear the low thrum plucking
then growing. Breeding a buzz
in your inner ears, like hornets
building a nest in your brain.
By the time you reach your limit
you tremble, shivering
like leaves in the wind.
The plucking, poisonous parrot
won't stop spinning and turning;
it hangs tightly like a ram
to smash down the door.
1/22/2019
SUMMER WITCH HAIKU
Husband bite your tongue.
Mother'n law comes visiting
threatens not to leave.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
BUCKS COUNTY PICNIC AT DELAWARE CANAL HAIKU
Picnickers are there
bridge from nowhere to nowhere
haven't got a care
nap beneath the trees
Nockamixon Palisades
dreaming birds and bees
light flashes below
as the water streams along
in its summer song
orange cotton dress
hiding from the boys who stare
all they do is guess.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QUICKY LUBE HAIKU
Faster than the eye
just a lick as going by
Quicky Booby Lube.
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© RON WILSON aka vee bdosa the Doylestown poet
The oak trees are an endless sea of grey;
The waves roll over hills until they melt
Into a grey horizon under dim
Midwinter skies. The world is sepia toned;
The flowers in the glades no longer wear
Their splendid summer colors. Dry and brown,
They hold up their spent seed heads full of pride
Because they have achieved their destiny.
A dogwood tree lies cut, its swelling buds
A promise that will never be fulfilled.
Behind pale pointy palisades of reeds
The lonely pond does still reflect the sky.
December 14, 2016
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