Inflection Point
Musicians
want to be poets
And poets
musicians
Jim Morrison
in Paris
Leonard Cohen
Montreal
The grass
shining greener
In shadows
elusive
The muses to
whisper
As temptress
— they call
*****
Birth Mother
Comfort
the enemy
of truth
Prescience
the nemesis
of time
Insight
the jailer
of denial
Freedom
the birth mother
— of dreams
*****
The Crossroad
An ounce
of freedom
Or a ton
of gold
The choice
is yours
Since times
of old
To sell
your soul
Or set
it free
A Frostian
crossroad
By choice
— decreed
*****
Love On View
Walking
through the park
Troubles
disembark
Watching
couples swoon
Picnicking
at noon
Every tree
a refuge
Rowboats
dot the sand
Joy unbridled
love on view
Cupid
— in command
*****
The First Cut
Never complain
never explain
I don’t care if you like it
I only care that you read
Stay undefined
the future unrhymed
The first cut the deepest
— forever to bleed
(The New Room: May, 2026)
Impassioned foreboders
Each of which projects
A fearsome sky
Of trees' whistly lead-ball rained
Scourging effects.
Cruel, torturous. And yet
Fine with it, I.
Impatient erasers
As streets flash pale in
Quick banishment
Of what there neath, lazy, lawned
Lie picnicking.
Again accepting. Unless
As one, glass-bent!
picnicking twosome
white butterfly flits across ~
pigeons coo nearby
roughhousing children
rustling trees in the distance ~
woman walking dog
Many foreigners living in the Philippines
Quite for a long time now
Come, visit us here anytime
Many months, many years
It will be in your style
Surely, you will find yourself in tropical island
Sipping island made rum
Sun bathing in a beautiful sandy beaches
Picnicking, dining and boodle fighting
Lodging in those affordable affluence hotel
If settled, find your soulmate
Or better still, marry a Filipino woman
Thank you for loving Philippines.
Satin summer sundays.
With the young children.
Picnicking in the shade
Nana takes them to swim.
Watching while they play.
There growing so big.
Those memories we've made.
Are, a most treasured gift.
Sewsaws and swings.
The roundabout spins.
As we reminisce.
Upon satin summer bliss.
sometimes
misconstrued
in a fluorescent grove
where malachite petals
marry emerald blades
verbose biting chews
too close to the cheek
among a confetti of bees
amid undulating bumps
of raw superfluous air
interdimensional entities
of spectral occurrence
wave with graphic-less suave
to gurgles, to coos, to hehs
seek noodle communication
to a bouncing mistaken few
using the eyebrow medium
of coincidence
a babbling infrasonic tool
of curious happening
sometimes
misunderstood
exhume, with heed
supressed benevolence
they fly shapelessly
in quartered skies
aloof in mocking flight
frilly, frothy entities
divebombing ghettos
exacting urban sprawl
chance upon neonates
and families out picnicking
feeding babies whose
knowing smiles to air
see, or do they?
– beware
Aeriforms
Corona, is a vibrant city located in the heart of Riverside County.
Home to numerous parks and trails,Corona provides plenty of opportunities for outdoor recreation such as hiking,biking and picnicking.The city also has many cultural attractions including world-class museums, galleries and historic sites.There are great shopping and dining opportunities along with entertainment venues like movie theaters,bowling alleys and live music clubs. Whether you're looking for a peaceful retreat or an exciting night out,
Corona has something for everyone!
Spring
rainy, cool
awaking, flowering, singing
yards, mountains, sea, sand
swimming, picnicking, sunning
hot, fun
summer
Date Written 1/12/2023
She loved the outdoors
He was terrified of it
Not a picnicking couple
It's that time of the year
We pack yum sandwiches and food finger-licking
Spring is here
Under the sun
We enjoy outdoor picnicking
What fun!
De-stress
Photos clicking
Yes!
It's that time of the year
We enjoy outdoor picnicking
Yes!
14th March 2022
Form: Minichu
For Mohan Chutani's "Let's Minichu on Fun" contest
There are so many things to observe
as I sit at the canal trail.
My senses catch it all.
Shirtless runners,
The swish of thier sneakers as they pass.
A family picnicking not far away.
Bike riders side by side chatting to each other.
A man pushing his partner in a wheelchair.
A child running to his daddy.
Leaves fluttering in the wind.
Hawks soaring over thier prey.
Gulls seeking fish.
Sparrows chirping away.
Ducks bobbing on the waves.
Speed walkers pass briskly by.
Seniors walking thier dogs.
Dogs checking out the trees.
People gazing at the scenery.
Girls and guys with hair tied in ponytails.
Shadows dancing across the lands and water.
Roof tops peeking through the trees.
Sun beating against my back.
From where I sit I am just a shadow.
Sitting on the sidelines,
with my butt pressed in this bench,
Wondering...
"Why am I not doing any of these things?"
In all ten
For my life of pen:
For the prize-fighter's fists
From the eyes summoning mists.
To our own eyes move straight,
When we can no longer wait
To rid them of slumber
And add to the outside world’s number.
Often gesturing our wish
To throw together some dish
And eating it off zoom,
The hell getting out of our room!
Sometimes, combating the itch
In public An Embarrassing :
And the pin-pricking worms
Picnicking in our rectums!
In creativity, The Wisely Engaged,
When inventive mind is not hedged
To every onlooker reminding
That on one it is binding
To display his being the rod
Moses had picked from God
Fingers can Mister A land in trouble
And Mister B supply a double.
SEASHORE
sandy, warm
wading, swimming, surfing
shells, driftwood; rocks, fossils
hiking, picnicking, climbing
barren, scenic
MOUNTAINTOP
Zeus fought the elves and the gargoyles for Stonehenge picnicking rights
Stonehenge laughed at this, thinking Zeus was insane
And of course he might have been but who in their right mind
will tell that to a god?
Even if it is a little god
not the big one.
Recollections flutter
Behind my eyes
Like autumn leaves
Scattered by the wind.
Dreams send out tentacles
Into time long past
Calling memories up from
Obscurity into light.
A phantom path leads back
Into the dusty library
Of forgotten treasures
Where there’s an Easter party
With a magician
Who pulls out coins from
Our hair and ears.
Another page reveals
A sudden rainstorm and
Laughter of two lovers
Picnicking on the slope
Of green grass under a bridge.
I see a sleepy newborn
At his mother’s breast
And, later, taking
Those wobbly first steps.
There’s our fiftieth anniversary
With all the children
And grandchildren gathered,
And Great Grandma’s
Ninetieth birthday party
With relatives from everywhere.
I see happy days at golden beaches,
Trips to exotic, faraway places,
And so much more.
No pages are left that tell
Of the sad or unhappy.
Time has erased those or left
The leaves dimmed and faded.
At the shorter end of life
It’s the joyous memories
I hold dear, as I reach back
Into the hidden recesses,
And open the pages of my mind.
Sub Categories
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