In the city, there are benches
Placed where people might
Relax and take a load off,
Which is everybody’s right.
They’re either made of metal
Or old-fashioned painted wood,
Found in parks and promenades or where
They’d do the utmost good.
Most bus stops with a shelter
Have a bench for those who wait
And in playgrounds, there are benches
Where the nannies congregate.
My apartment building spans a block
On quite an average street,
Without a bus stop or a park;
It’s nice, but not elite.
Yet recently, a metal bench,
Three seats’ worth, with a back,
Was placed to give my home address
What other buildings lack –
A place to sit, but no one knows
Who ordered such a thing.
It sounds real good, but there are several
Problems it could bring –
The detritus of strangers,
Which is quite a common sight
And perhaps some noisy revelers
To party through the night.
My street is pretty quiet
And I hope a monkey wrench
Hasn’t landed on it with the
Sudden placement of this bench.
plane, bus 'n train
elevators 'n escalators
revelers 'n sale-day crowds
is where we meet
STRANGERS!
looking away,
with no eye-to-eye contact
no nod, wink, grunt of 'Hi's',
never ever recognizing
the sharers of the commons
shoved together
withdrawn incognito.
Here for thee be :
The Ten Commandments of Crowd Etiquette
Thou Shalt Honor Thy and Their Personal Bubbles
Thou Shalt Not Partake in Olfactory Betrayal
Thou Shalt Not Greet Strangers with a Nod, Only with Indifferent Defiance
Thou Shalt Yield Thy Seat only to the Ill, with-Child, Frail, Aged & the Lovely
Thou Shalt Stand Thy Ground, Letting Others Squeeze Pass Reluctantly
Thou Shalt Not Covet Another’s Seat or Space
Thou Shalt Keep Thine Phone Silent at Thine Side, and Do Not Speak
Thou Shalt Bear No Grudges for Shoves, Humphs & Grunts in Tight Spaces
Thou Shalt Honor all Queues, Despite their Length and Thy Lateness
Thou Shalt Yen the Zen of Strangers in Common Humanity
St Patrick's Day Poetry Contest
Oliver Mckeithan
It's St. Patrick's Day and the night is hopping
A young women joins the revelers for a toast and a beer
She takes in a bar that has good window shopping
And after a few rounds she’s dancing to the cheer
The band is rocking and drumming the night
As she sails with the sea of green on the dance floors
She sterns to the beat and bows to a knight
For he's a gorgeous catch that she reels in to her shores
Love is in the air and Cupid's arrow hits her Leprechaun
There's an instant chemistry that's boiling over
For is her pot of gold at the end of the rainbow about to spawn
Or did she hopelessly find another three leaf clover
Her lucky charms were answered when he took her hand
And promised romance and courtship before they land
My beloved late husband and I
once strolled down Bourbon Street,
on a mild winter's afternoon.
The musicians enchanted the
atmosphere,
as sparrows lent their own songs.
We dined on gumbo al fresco
with friends,
Spanish Moss clothed ancient trees.
It wasn't yet Mardi Gras,
but we felt so festive,
with her old-time buildings
and eccentric people,
all those years ago.
This New Year's Day,
New Orleans mourns again,
her heart has the wound of loss,
as some of her innocent revelers
died an untimely and unforseen death.
The city of celebration,
candlelit for remembrance. ~
Trump won, Harris lost
Gobs of money, the election cost
Polls wrong again, predictions tossed
Revelers and grievers, both get sauced
The sun is hot
The birds all flock
The boats convene
Revelers serene
The drinks are cool
They make you drool
The wind blows soft
White sails aloft
Sleek Dolphins jump
The water thump
Our faces smile
For quite a while
This is the life
No thoughts of strife
Our own cocoon
Our sun - our moon
For just this while
We live in style
But all too soon
We're not immune
From noise and sound
Our senses pound
Reality hits back
Our peace off track
And yet we smile
For but a while
Thoughts of that day
When we might say
The sun is hot
The birds all flock
The boats convene
Revelers serene
TRAIN TRAVEL
I am on a superfast train
Listening to the soothing refrain,
Of the wheels on the railway track
Clickety clack, clickety clack.
Verdant vistas on either side,
Soothing visions during the ride.
Hamlets and villages flash by,
Little children waving "Hi"!
Fields of wheat and sugarcane,
Glistening from recent rains.
No pollution, no blaring horns,
No impatience or faces forlorn.
The catering staff wend their way,
Distributing food on trays.
We tuck into a hearty meal,
Get a satiated feel.
Chat with fellow travelers,
Some sober, some revelers.
Each with different tales to tell,
Caught up in a magical spell.
Halting at railway stations,
Quaint outposts of the nation.
The aroma of frying food,
You simply cannot elude.
Idyllic this train travel,
Just unwind and unravel.
Far away from stress and strain,
Modern life's eternal bane.
Stretching on my berth, relaxed,
Languidly just laying back,
Till I reach my destination
I'll admire Nature's creations.
TRAIN TRAVEL
I am on a superfast train
Listening to the soothing refrain,
Of the wheels on the railway track
Clickety clack, clickety clack.
Verdant vistas on either side,
Soothing visions during the ride.
Hamlets and villages flash by,
Little children waving "Hi"!
Fields of wheat and sugarcane,
Glistening from recent rains.
No pollution, no blaring horns,
No impatience or faces forlorn.
The catering staff wend their way,
Distributing food on trays.
We tuck into a hearty meal,
Get a satiated feel.
Chat with fellow travelers,
Some sober, some revelers.
Each with different tales to tell,
Caught up in a magical spell.
Halting at railway stations,
Quaint outposts of the nation.
The aroma of frying food,
You simply cannot elude.
Idyllic this train travel,
Just unwind and unravel.
Far away from stress and strain,
Modern life's eternal bane.
Stretching on my berth, relaxed,
Languidly just laying back,
Till I reach my destination
I'll admire Nature's creations.
Life’s a series of ups and downs
some days smiles, others frowns
Men revel in fictitious conquests
women dream of wedding gowns
The room spun round and round -
blurred revelers rocked and watched
light steps in perfect time,
no need to hear its melody nor
cadence sung to sweet refrains.
She, the maestro of memories,
bathes in a reverie of ... yesterdays;
dancing to the music only she can hear -
yet all can feel.
Sturgeon Moon
So soon
Summer slips through our fingers
Our own version of Michigan underwater beasts
Ogling the luminous bellies of boats swimming down Clam River
Dockside a roar with Ahab revelers
I have seen millions of moons
Leaping on the midnight ripples of Torch Lake
I have seen hills and pointes that darkly roll and rise
Inviting levitation
A cheer from our bow
Fireball shot
Looks like home but isn’t
We float down the shore with flashlights
I have seen a picture taken at the lakeside campfire
My wife and I
Standing in the gaps of our four sitting children
Six orange hooded faces
Without bodies
Eyes round as owls
Looking out from the tree of life
I cup my mouth with astonishment.
Beyond the imposing and the high iron gate
The picturesque setting of the Oxford University
Situates the hedonistic oriented Bullingdon Club
Founded more than 200 years ago.
The socially exclusive students get the invitation
To join the Club as its elite members
Many of whom have attained prominence
And position of power in Britain’s political arena.
The ill-famed Club is known for
Its wealthy members and their notorious behavior
Partaking in the boisterous rituals such as
Vandalizing restaurants and students’ rooms.
The Club’s colors are sky blue and shining ivory
Seen on the tailcoats the members wear
For the annual dinner where the drunken revelers
Greet each other chanting “buller, buller, buller”.
The Club has survived the roller-coaster ride
Lurching between frequent recruitment crises
And nearly facing the shut down
But the buller has a way of bouncing back.
The distinctiveness of its haughty members
Reflected in their one-upmanship attitude
Took them to eminence along the tough tracks
The outside world is skeptic about their dubious traits.
____________
April 7, 2023
Contest : Bullingdon Boys
Spoinsored by : Joe Maverick
The fiddler arrived
with a wry froggy grin,
and the party was born
in the dance of the bow
'cross the taut and the tuned
through the shivers of time.
The lilly pads waltzed
and the cattails all swayed
in a dream where the revelers
hopped the morning away,
while croaking the words
to their favorite song ~~
The bulls croaked their "jug o' rums",
and the tree frogs their "ribbits"
in chirruping glee until night
became dawn...
During the hustle-bustle of
this festive occasion of Christmas,
it behooves us to find time
to turn our hearts to God
for the realization of perpetual peace.
Until now
what I thought was warm and holy,
Like the welcoming glow of a campfire scene
when a wisp of smoke spiraled up
from the trees
and the revelers danced around
in a kaleidoscope of light and shadows,
ended up for me so cold and hollow.
The mass hysteria that characterizes
the week before Christmas
is like a chaotic classroom
full of unsupervised hyper kids
when the teacher had left
to go take a phone call,
A cacophony of deafening mixture
of jumbled sounds
as if it’s but a week ahead
of the coming Apocalypse.
~11/27/22
~Contest: Christmas
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
The world celebrates a holiday that's "sentimentally symbolic."
With bombastic, "fantastic fireworks," we greet New Year's Eve.
Revelers stoked, thoroughly usurped as if by a magical spell.
Abounds the sounds of popping corks of "chilled champagne!"
Toasting auld ang syne and future, good health as we hobnob,
all wearing grins as life begins with hope for a grand new year.
It's a "jubilantly joyous" occasion, an "enthralling extravaganza"
with a tender kiss from a loved one at the stroke of midnight.
The last seconds being counted down "to the tempo of timpani"
The ceremony peeks and everyone speaks in loud crescendo.
Resolutions made but not often kept are part of the holiday tradition.
September 8, 2022
The A's Have It Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
~ ~ ~ ~
Bold - Alphabetical words
Quotation marks - alliterations
Italicized - internal rhymes
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