life on Planet Earth
constant change to death from birth
defining the worth
a one time event
an existence much like rent
was such time well spent?
who and what are we
no trivial pursuit be
despite pedigrees
following all rules
of cultures, creeds, states and schools
leaves us useful tools
decrees which confound
class contradictions abound
vague questions resound
deftly inserting
words bent upon subverting
soon turn diverting
safety long has been
in knowing what lies within
defining of sin
anger can erupt
when greed fuels the corrupt
regret won't disrupt
while shrinking life’s scope
truth soon became power’s trope
belief defeats hope
change has run its course
when disconnected from source
of life giving force
existence is free
lies within state of what be
forms reality
O zenith, at the apex.
What lives within thy zone?
Zodiac, thy spell is hex!
Zero at the Bone!
Narrow fellow? Let's be mellow.
Mine and thine machine.
No use saying sweet hello?
Yellow, mix with green.
O anaconda empire!
In swampland, what to dread?
Circumstances! Guns for hire!
Butter without bread!
Flame immortal, writhe within!
Blanch my dreams, O Sin!
Deadly venom, scour my skin!
Vicious fight to win!
Lord of greatest house, titmouse?
Ran right up her blouse?
O for those who gasoline douse!
Sycophant and souse!
Young sir, who ought we deter?
Real world, fade to blur.
Mongrel, pedigrees. O cur:
Life goes in a whir.
Hummingbird, wings. O hornet, stings.
Sorcerer, thy rings.
Never mind nefarious things?
Nature's ding-a-lings.
Proofs for equations, elk? Eel?
Antelope, hope. Seal:
What to buy and what to steal?
Gods of death, thy deal...
I don’t speak my mind
believing nobody listens… nobody cares.
It’s no wonder they’re convinced
I have nothing to say !
Endless cycle of the chicken and egg.
What if… I decided to speak up
… to freely say what’s on my mind
and set free that little voice within
… let go closely guarded secrets
their fake pretenses and pedigrees
… shatter that stuffy annoying silence
turn up the volume and be heard.
What if somebody actually showed they cared
what if they really want to hear
… if they took the time to listen.
There’s only one way to find out
I’d have to care enough to ask ~
Lineku: 3 stanzas of 5-7-5 with lines of 5 or 7 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
October 30/2024
Miracle Man
With age came the realization,
that most good times lay in my past.
Often these become a temporary fixation,
and I cling to these both hard and fast.
My want to do useful things has remained,
but ability no longer shows its face.
My mobility today is now restrained,
and I dream of life in a better place.
Desire and Ability are two horses
with different pedigrees.
Tom
Hurry up! Barry the boorish bulldog urged Priss the poodle.
There are others here who want to unwind their noodle.
Is that surly curly still in the bath? Is she getting her legs waxed?
German shepherd’s temper was being severely taxed.
Move over a bit so I can reach the sink!
Said a beagle who was trying to get a drink.
The bathroom was filled up with dogs of variety of pedigrees.
They were hopping around on fat legs that had chased a good breeze.
How many more roommates are we going to get?
Yelped a blue heeler with sass who was throwing a fit.
The puppies barked, and the old dogs passed big gas.
All of them ready to leap around on some grass.
Dandelion puff clouds
tickle the air with their flossy flights.
Other weeds cannot fly
they are deeply rooted, their seeds
flop low.
Landscapers grind the ground grimly,
mowers grapple and growl
but the low gravity and the fluffy,
the wind-walking dandelions
sneeze up their fuzziness
and care not
as they ride the sky, their
high-flown wispy pedigrees
waving goodbye.
Imagine a topsy turvy upset
Where humans were pets
President Jack Russell in talks
With terriers from york
Debating about pest control
Keeping humans in control
Women kept for breading and tame
Men kept for hunting and games
Imagine the chaos if dogs ruled
Who'd stop them being cruel
Locking humans in the garden
Barking and beating hard men
Would they prepare the food?
And clean up the poop?
Would dogs walk on two legs?
And humans use all four instead?
Defining humans into pedigrees
A caged human? Set it free
Lassie would be a heart throb
Wellards the highest payed dog
Workin for the BBC company
Barking beyond companionity
Bathrooms wouldn't be invented
Forests for public conveniences
Politics would still be as bad
Even Jack Russells barking mad
Arguing about the price of meat
From butcher dogs superleads
The largest franchise dog bone
Lots of treats to take home
Second place home barkings
Where they get pets bargains
German shepherds policing the street
As the other breeds are too weak
If the topsy turvy world was true
Not differ much from our rule
I think it would be less confusing
As the dogs life is more amusing
The Power of the Tron
Said the Big Computer to the Human Computee:
“Without me, sir, you must concur,
Wherever would you be?
I tally all your numbers, and I even give advice,
Unlike you, I’m objective and predictably precise.
‘Way down my epicenter, I’ve a calculating brain
That can compile, compute, compound, expound, explore, explain.
Oh, don’t you wish you had my wits, if only an iota,
For I’ve more news than I can use -
I'm programmed to my quota.”
And on and on it carried on, continuing to scoff,
Until the Human Computee reached down and turned it OFF.
And now The Big Computer sits there idle all the day,
Without a boasting, bragging, calculating thing to say,
While on the chair, beside it there, the Human Factor lingers,
Computing trig and calculus by counting on its fingers,
And when its used its fingers up, it can simply transpose
And still deduce, deduct, add up, by counting on its toes!
Take heed, you Mighty IBMs, and other pedigrees,
Before you get too taken with your capabilities –
You may have stores of knowledge;
You may be an Alpha Tron,
But it’s the Human Digit
Ultimately
Turns
You
ON.
There is a serious conspiracy
They want me out of the aristocracy
Born a plebeian, I aspire to be a ruler
They cannot stand seeing my cup, any fuller
They come for my henchmen first
Then whet, for my blood, their thirst
I am going down, think they, without a fight
Remember my day will come, keep me in sight
Today’s the day to celebrate
A food that few dislike or hate
For pizza’s found most everywhere;
A town without it would be rare.
From big round pies served by the slice
To square Sicilians, all entice,
No matter if they’re topped with cheese
Or have more fancy pedigrees
‘Cause toppings vary; where you eat it
May decide what tops complete it –
Pepperoni, veggies, ham,
Pineapple or shrimp or clam
Sausage, meatballs, spinach, ‘shrooms,
Even tofu, one assumes.
Sprinkle with oregano
Or pepper flakes; you’re good to go.
We should all indulge today
So if you’re home or you’re away,
Go find yourself a sizzling slice
Of gastronomic paradise!
Cloud Nine
It's Been Nine years,
They seem Short and Sweet,
Eyes Full of Joy Tears,
Shoes Full of Feet.
It's Been Nine Annuals,
Of Blues & Green Blossoms of Smiles,
Sans GPS or Shalom Manuals,
Our Careening Inner-Outer Space Miles.
It's Been a Team of Nine,
But Rookie Roster of Two,
On Purim, Said the Rebbetzin,
"A Remarkable Pair are You".
It's Been Nine Annums,
Date Starting Over Starbuck's Coffee,
Then Favorite Englander Kitchen Table Crumbs,
Soared Us High, to Orbits Lofty.
It's Been Nine Degrees,
Of Seeing the Plus & Flaw Blindness,
Each Listing Spouse Pedigrees,
Beginning & Ending With Kindness.
It's Been Nine Lives,
To Borrow from the Cat World,
You Inched Bravely to the High Dive,
Breathed Deep, Dove & Deserve to be Pearled.
(Now, Barbara Opens the Necklace Case)
Cloud Nine
It's Been Nine years,
They seem Short and Sweet,
Eyes Full of Joy Tears,
Shoes Full of Feet.
It's Been Nine Annuals,
Of Blues & Green Blossoms of Smiles,
Sans GPS or Shalom Manuals,
Our Careening Inner-Outer Space Miles.
It's Been a Team of Nine,
But Rookie Roster of Two,
On Purim, Said the Rebbetzin,
"A Remarkable Pair are You".
It's Been Nine Annums,
Date Starting Over Starbuck's Coffee,
Then Favorite Englander Kitchen Table Crumbs,
Soared Us High, to Orbits Lofty.
It's Been Nine Degrees,
Of Seeing the Plus & Flaw Blindness,
Each Listing Spouse Pedigrees,
Beginning & Ending With Kindness.
It's Been Nine Lives,
To Borrow from the Cat World,
You Inched Bravely to the High Dive,
Breathed Deep, Dove & Deserve to be Pearled.
(Now, Barbara Opens the Necklace Case)
A horizontal man beaten by life vicissitudes
Don’t flog
On him dump not platitudes
To clog his misfortune on the blog
Where his reputation you whip
Out of shape, out of contention
To snip and nip
The devotion
Once on him you doted
Unstintingly
As him you courted
Ingratiatingly
Until he fell on hard times
Sunken and forsaken
As clock chimes
Never mistaken
Heralded a new era
For wheels to spin for the better the man’s fortunes
Adding an invincibility and indefatigability edge to the aura
The man with gratitude received to the accompaniment of melodies and tunes
That turned three hundred and sixty degrees
The man’s life towards a new magnetic North
That engendered the commencement of pedigrees
That enabled the man to rise from ashes and burst forth
Carving him a niche of happiness under the sun
Smiling and styling
New horizons in a vertical zone
Filled to the brim with a brand new feeling of healing.
Outside new rose buds contemplate
the future, should we bloom or no,
and tempt our own vermillion fate?
We are not winter's afterglow,
they muse, but amulets of grace,
consider buildings stacked in place
without decorum or brio!
Which is the greater of the two
in March--intentions must not mar
the garden cloister--to eschew
the world or flutter like a star
or horse manes lilting in the breeze?
Remember thus: our pedigrees
grant entree to a love's boudoir!
Iambic Tetrameter
aba bccb ded effe
3/3/18
I arrived before the final showing,
Before your heart was erased.
When we run the gamut
There are rules
That cannot be broken.
There are spirals in the mind
That annoy even the great ones,
With pedigrees like tulips.
Free at last--
Or so I thought, but
All hope of winning the prize is lost.
My harmonies plead for mercy.
Do you remember your name? I asked.
There was no answer.
But I knew it was Stephen--
Stephen who paints windows
And affixes doors--
Stephen the unhinged.
Fiction, he said, is the truth
Behind the facts,
The wandering of lost sheep
Who walk in your dreams.
There are those, who in a trance
Like frogs, burrow beneath the mud
And wait for rain.
Rain was a long time coming that year.
Everyone knew it would be dry;
The almanac said so.
The signs were posted everywhere:
Seven years of drought,
A long waiting to be born.
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