He dwelled in depths I dared not enter
Satan the landlord; he the renter
He packed his things but left behind
a lidded box he hoped I'd find.
It was not of the Pandora kind.
Curious as to what he'd put inside...
Yes, I was inquisitive enough
to know if its contents had the power
to devour me whole or leave me sour
over the promises he didn't keep...
the vows he broke that made we weep.
He'd stolen my heart and I wanted it back
I the prey, he the hunter.
Sunset descended behind willow trees
before it felt right to open the lid,
for in darkness, he'd left me in sorrow,
grimly haunted by the memories of him.
In stygian shadows is where he often hid.
How fitting the hour of midnight appealed
to me to unseal the box, its cover to lift.
Therein I found his silver wedding band
and felt I should thank him for this final gift.
In the box of dreaded darkness, I found light.
A gift I understood as I held it in my hand.
He the giver, I the receiver.
On the outskirts of town there's a house on Brooding Hill
that leaves those who pass by with shivers and a chill.
It's rumored that murders have taken place in the home
since it's been haunted by ghosts and ghouls who roam.
It's surrounded by a forest where shadows take to flight
and whispers echo upon the wind on a full moon night.
Red eyes stare out of windows from skeletons that talk
and no one ever dares to go near that house after dark.
Crows perch on moss draped limbs of trees, long dead.
Their caws summon the master goblin lesser demons dread.
The stench of death lingers near when screams are heard
begging help from graves where bodies have been interred.
That macabre haunted house is not a place I will ever enter.
Gossip around town is that it's soon to have another renter,
but it won't take long before they will feel the terror and fear
when in the house on Brooding hill, hobgoblins will appear.
So many gaps are getting bigger by the day,
The gap between the rich and those that are not rich,
The gap between the famous and the infamous,
The gap between the generous and the not so generous,
The gap between the closed mouth and the open mouth,
The gap between the tree huger and the developer,
The gap between the lover and the hater,
The gap between the buyer and the seller,
The gap between the optimist and the pessimist,
The gap between the helper and the shouter,
The gap between the soother and the shooter,
The gap between the honest and the dishonest,
The gap between the renter and those below the renter,
The gap between the media and the reader,
The gap between the leaders and the bleeders,
The gap between the real and the unreal,
The gap between the inventor and those who say what for,
The gap between those with power and those without power,
The gap between the grateful and the ungrateful,
Are all very worrying,
Without adding the gaps that we continue to be inventing.
But the gap we should be really worried about,
Is the gap between thinking and doing?
In a world that is dying,
To see more doing,
And less thinking about doing.
A very good morning to all my fans,
My uplighters, my blossom,
an add on to my faithful viewers
amongst my midst
in a pandemonium world:
While the bush fire continues out west
in Brooklyn streets, we still wish for mango trees,
Instead of the many visible dumpsters,
Our Netflix, our prime videos,
Our, You Tubes channel streaming, while
Some represent modern times, the others have just
The right touches for one’s loneliness in lockdown towns,
In all of our troubled days of depression,
*The vast new reports of shunning, is uprising my fans*
How the world copes with madness, and death
Per day, as the world spin faster, and faster,
To a never-ending dilemma,
But somehow, the richest demand more gold,
While the low renter, begs the government for help..
*The roses and the lilies talk of art and also of love.**
At the summit conferences what really do they talk about?
Under the various mask faces?
A very good morning to all my fans,
My uplighters, my blossom, a add on to my
Faithful viewers amongst my midst
in a pandemonium world:
This is not poetry, only observations my friends.
Gray days, cobweb clouds, skeleton trees through my frosty window
Cold coffee, a piece of half-eaten toast, butter puddles frozen in place
Cat rubbing against my bare legs, half listening to the TV-babble
Wanting to stay in bed all day, make the half-frozen clock hands speed up
A pillow for rent - no takers, a heart for rent - heart breakers need not apply
I follow the taxicab’s tracks in the snow – the one you took to the airport
They turn the corner, but my life moves ahead making its own tracks
One door closes, another opens, or so they say – I think I’ve lost the key
Sunny days, puffy clouds, trees blooming through my open window
Coffee brewing, strawberry jam filled toast, dog in lap waiting for morsels
Cat rubbing against my bare legs, love songs filling the room
Leaping from bed, a new happy day, clock hands keeping time to my heart
I follow the tracks in the hallway runner to the kitchen to find you waiting
My permanent pillow renter, my heart taker, my forever lover
One door closed, another opened – and I threw the key away!
There was once a young man from Tashkent
Lost his job and couldn't pay the high rent
His landlord was clear
Pleas fell on deaf ears
So our renter moved out into a tent
I listen to the Leftists
I listen to the Rightists
They are not among the brightest.
The Leftists want a $15 minimum wage, a guaranteed job
For every wage-earner in the US, be he gentleman or slob.
They want free health insurance, free college tuition
They haven't the slightest economic intuition.
With all that guaranteed government stuff
Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer will have it exceedingly rough.
Though the federal tax form itself will be razor-thin:
How much do you make? -- Send it all in!
Of course, those on the Right are not a whit better
When it comes to the President's outrages, they're aides and abettors
His insults, his outright lies, they dismiss as 'inconsequential'--
As long as stock and bond market gains remain monumental
After much consideration and not inconsiderable thought
I've reached a conclusion, one that's dearly bought:
A Pox on the Left and a Pox on the Right --
I'll not purchase a house; I'll not be a renter
I'll just pitch my tent smack dab in the Center
May 03 2018
she lives
in our attic
squirrel
No candy or flowers did he offer,
something more special,
the gift of his heart, he gave
mine already his.
I accepted his ring
and the love it would bring.
We exchanged wedding bands.
He took my hand, kissed my fingers.
We smiled and shared new adventures.
Happy home in a world of our own.
We promised to be true
then we said, "I do."
Our nights were filled with stars
and for a while all was well.
But darkness of another kind
moved in and hunted prey.
Which one would it devour?
I fought against its power.
I wept for the promise he didn't keep
for the gift that he took back
Lost to me was his heart
lost was mine as well.
He dwells in depths I dare not enter.
Satan the landlord; he the renter.
Put a U in topia
Every house renter is to own,
forget the rich, cos they will moan,
about this change of pitch,
self serving super twits,
Dollar greed is never fair,
for when you're dead it isn't there,
you selfish son of a vich,
time to tear yer heir,
a dreadful thought the switch,
equal for all is on the peoples wall,
those born to wealth will *****,
Bastardry, has cut off balls
not small, says the bugle snitch,
Duty here, is to the all,
get used to it a bit,
people power, the taste of gall,
the chamber pot is pist.
Equal wage for every sage,
or dumb as ducks Tom Tit,
Whiite light doth bring a newbie age,
you can depend on it.
Don Johnson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVLA3j71LoU&feature=em-upload_owner
The sun remains in a constant darkness
Lava still flowing from the ground
Nature’s revenge was ever so violent
At last, no man is left to hang around.
The gods allowed only so much destruction
Before finally having had quite enough
And then in an instant without any warning
The grounds and the skies started to erupt.
Man was a renter for a million years
But his abuses finally brought the gods to tears
It was bad enough what man did to man
But destroying earth the gods could not understand.
First a few earthquakes, scattered all about
Then some volcanoes began to spout
The gods were deaf to mankind’s shouts
For he spilt the oil that started gushing out.
The fire on the water started with a lightning bolt
Then lava poured out from the earth’s girth
The moon covered the sun for a hundred years
As the planet tried again with a brand new birth.
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