This is no pleasure trip, no voyage for the weak-hearted.
The activists singing, holding arms, like birds in the trees,
those in awe of morning’s glory, in a dolphin-crowded sea,
mantle of intellect, a true heroic affair.
They have a ship load of food and medicine, a holy mission
to the chagrin of warmongers and their media culprits.
To the shores of Gaza they sail,
Where flesh is burnt like used tires,
monuments of barbarism.
Bewilder them till they die!
At night the stars come out into
this artifice of humanity, caught in the web of
an unspeakable tragedy.
Alas, the flotilla is interdicted, freedom is not,
sailing past the deceits, the barricades, the barb wires,
And the AI-guided bombs.
Freedom is never negotiated on high seas, commands
all the waves to safety.*
Dedicated to Greta and her comrades
For example, take my wife—Please!
Who was that lady you were dancing with?
That was no lady—That was my wife!
I bought my husband a chair for his birthday
He won’t even let me plug it in!
I told my doctor I have five es
He said—My god! How does your underwear fit?
I said—Like a glove!
I found my best friend in bed with my wife
I said Lenny! I have to—but you?
Just got back from a pleasure trip
Took my mother-in-law back to the airport
I told my father, no one likes me
He said—Don’t worry, everyone hasn’t met you yet
That man’s nuts! Grab ‘em!
Money is relative—
I have less money than any of my relatives
I’m on a sea food diet
I see food—I eat it
6/3/22
Little Sweet Faerie Toad was carrying the princess queen elect.
The rest of the fey stayed in the way to courtesy and genuflect.
LSFT was having a fit, but internally, so to not alarm his guest.
He finally got her to her coronation, the ultimate toadlike test.
The Princess Queen was grateful. She left LSFT a big tip.
He was excited, and went on a cruise, a pleasure trip.
Wife asked, “now wasn’t it worth it?” and he smiled big.
They are still on vacation – heading to an archeological dig.
In spite of celebrating our seventy-fifth Independence Day,
Our actual freedom is still miles away.
Freedom lies in our ability to breathe fresh air.
Freedom is the ability to show our love and care.
We are truly free when we are not hiding behind a mask.
Wearing an ugly face mask for hours together is not an easy task.
We are free when we go with our family on a pleasure trip.
We are free when we liberate ourselves from the smartphone's grip.
The Corona Pandemic has left us jobless for a while.
Nevertheless, we continue to eat, sleep and live in style.
Television has managed to invade our lives.
We watch idiotic serials featuring squabbling husbands and Wives.
News channels broadcast political thrillers.
Their debate shows are real mood killers.
Children have almost forgotten their way to their schools.
Laptops and mobiles are now their learning tools.
We will only be free when we get rid of this viral disease.
Our freedom is ensured when the acts of terrorism cease.
It’s the four leaf clover again Mom said.
Hide in your room. I’ll pretend you are dead.
I thought this suspicious and kind of silly too.
Forgetting the last time’s escapade with my glue.
Four leaf clover’s smile lit up the entire room.
Let’s take a pleasure trip on your ma’s old broom!
We both fell off in a meadow onto our heads.
He survived of course, but I ended up dead.
Ahoy mates! We're going in our boat on a trip.
We're going to do the Great American Loop.
Soon we will be a blip.
We'll take lots of video clips.
We'll be joining a group.
Ahoy mates! We're going in our boat on a trip.
We're getting helpful tips.
Nah! We're not on a sloop.
Soon we'll be a blip
On our pleasure trip.
You want to know the scoop?
Ahoy mates! We're going in our boat on a trip.
We've checked our boat for drips.
Now we can have a grill cheese with soup.
Soon we'll be a blip.
Our boat is our workmanship
As we wave to people sitting on their back stoop.
Ahoy mates! We're going in our boat on a trip
Soon we will be a blip.
A new journey calls:
Embark with fond zest;
Let soft footsteps fall
As you live your fest.
Direct your steps well:
Go live your best days;
Each well-lived day tells
How purpose meets way.
Weather each new mile:
Let adventure call;
Live passion and style
As you embrace all.
Greet each dawn with cheer:
Like a fond treasure;
Prize happy times here
In true soul measure.
Your pleasure trip mints:
The lifestyle you niche;
Warm colours now tint
Lavish moments rich.
Travel with true heart:
See the world most bright;
Let happy joy start
To channel calm light.
Write your journal log:
Watch feelings sketch bold;
Enjoy as you slog
Through times hot and cold.
Craft your own story:
Live and love and laugh;
Know that you can be
Much more than enough.
Journey on your way:
Live with love that lights;
Live well just this day
As grace prompts true sight.
Leon Enriquez
03 June 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT
What fun it would be to sail on a ship
Over all the world on a pleasure trip
Riding the waves from shore to shore
Landing to browse in shops and stores
Daring to find new sights to explore
Canary Islands or the South seas
Rio de Janeiro, the Hebrides
Under the sun you'll cruise with the tide
Islands and dolphins on the port side
Seeing new lands brings joy to the heart
Enlightened by finding all the best parts
10/8/17
a road to nowhere
can truly lead to somewhere
when like minds prepare
Perfecting skills to calm a flighty horse.
Compact its trombone limbs with reins and legs
performing with no noticeable force,
all trouble and delight that beauty begs.
One horse, one rider, indivisible;
sky-born with earth-bound duty to endorse.
Control from legs and seat must be invisible,
obeying smooth transitions on the course.
Struck by awe, crowds watch, as in a trance
a pleasure trip controlled by aids precise.
Such liveliness contained in equine dance,
by what divine device - this Paradise?
Each discipline involved must ne'er be seen.
Before our eyes must seem a floating dream.
A STUNNER JANUARY 2018
Contest Judged: 3/17/2018 8:08:00 AM
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier |
2nd Place
Yes,but lemme finish Susan
Holy sermons,discourse,invocations-
Priest, like one possessed,
Less holy whispering.
It was a pleasure trip
Church at hill-top
Spreading death knell
How come you fail to hear it?
Ancestors lay beneath earth
Waiting our arrival
Your colour sense
Matching arrogant taste
Like amorphous mind.
Chariot of Time fled
Pretended with self deceit,
We loved each other.
Susan, you're right
Lone days and nights
Logical arguments
Crawling anguish
Unanswered puzzles
An eerie frequency,
Structure of Time strangled.
Invocations from distant planes
Your defiance
Not to anoint dirt on them.
We have crossed half our life.
Choked off springs
Gnawing wounds
Burning embers in my chest
We passed the setting sun
Time running short.
I am in a transition between
Life and death,leaving,
Fragrances kept close to heart
We part for good
Me knuckling under-
Yes,Susan
Leave me at the railway gate
Resume your journey
A few minutes walk
Rail roads will take me to
Noman's land.See, we lived a life
Of rail roads.