Short Banded Poems

I live on both dry land and wet sea
A predator better not eat me
yellow banded
upper handed
I’m a poison-dart frog, deadly you see....

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tell you
this what i do
stand on the corner
sometime a lonener
watch big butts
some i won't touch
i demand it
AM A 
BOOTY BANDED...

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Love is banded and towering often steps to the high life love is creeping and unexpected but never restless titled but gilded in a process of smooth and cyclic dates and in exchange love is a gift with a receipt some return it or some keep it...

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Without Malice, the blonde wee waif, with her banded hair and blue-white dress,
Shrinking alongside an insane milliner slurping tea, and dunking biscuits hard.
Frenetic and wild, the April Hare, late by 30 days, his minute hands I guess?
The Heartless Queen collecting heads, taking the fun out of Playing Cards....

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It’s just me and who else?

Is someone tracking me through these spells?

Is someone lurking in my wake?

Is this place storming with snakes?

I can feel these voices getting tight. 

Weaving around, and circling in the night. 

Me and whoever else has arrived-

We are banded by radiant nights where we thrive....

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Kamehameha The Great

Kamehameha the Great King
Banded the islands by taking,
Foreign ills brought us mass killing,
Now takers are law-abiding.

Kamehameha viewed himself as being Great,
He ate what he caught, plus those that crawled from his plate,
Stay clear, for his shadow is a deadly mistake,
Foreign intents stayed hid until it was too late.


Date: 08/25/2019...

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In the name of God
Galileo was put to death
By Christians

In the name of God
Reformers died
At the hands of Christians

Then came the theory of evolution
Angry Christian banded together
To put an end to this ungodly theory

Christians are so busy
Trying to protect God of Jesus Christ

But I wonder

Is it really God
They try to protect
Or gods made out of their own image?...

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Far and low we fall
From lofty heights not 
Being in the womb of mediocrity 
The tumble we feel no call
From above to say jump off
Cause we have landed in our spot.

Banded souls, alone together
In class we separate, or are by shunned.
In these spheres we're tethered.
Never rising to the top
In the land of the in between 
Our normal lives mundane 
Like fish upon the shore we flop....

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With sharpened twig and jagged rock 
the forest banded together to block
to block this intruder this maker of things
this creator of death that humankind brings
Rain drummed down the dancing trees
their war chants roused a wilder breeze 
The man sat in a house of dead wood
safe in a meadow where forest once stood
was he really unaware of the forest's ire
or protecting himself by adding logs to his fire....

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The glide of the plane almost in step with my rooftop.
Visibility of blue heaven low; lookout for earthwalkers.
My bland Toyota euphoric and banded by tight forest.
The span of an angelic chorus, a serendipitous psalm.
The predilection of dawn, a tributary hawk sails on.
The silver cross shimmies and shakes reflected in mirror.
I steady it with my heartbeat, my smile, my faith.

9/25/2020...

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A Banded Woolly Bear

Quiet road.
Autumn sun,
Parting leaves;
Warm light pools.

An earnest Woolly Bear
Crossing, pool to pool,
Urgently cautious,
Towards some important thing!

No bird notices, no car yet,
No winter yet.
Just an earnest Wooly Bear
Alone, towards something important.

What importance I cannot know,
On the silent road, for now.
Looking down, I wish the Woolly Bear well,
And hurry on....

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The clouds sink
like the waves on the shore
the grass molds
into the dirt under our feet
the heavens float
like the clouds that hold us.

In her eyes
I see heaven create another star
that we will wish upon
like a sinking ship
bound for the mud
not another lover aboard.

This hell we have banded
only in our minds can we solve the puzzle
not in our palms
or through our eyes
that sink in love
but like the clouds...

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I slipped on a teardrop and landed
in a pair of arms, warm and with muscles banded.

I knew not this was to be the last drop
which like magic wand would make time stop.

Crying and giggling, I stood like a moron
while his eyes queried if I was done.

In a maze, I remembered some old pun
And knew with him life will now be fun!


Date: 20/06/16
For contest: Cindi Rockwell,
                 I slipped on a teardrop and landed…...

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Roary Raccoon was dazzling in his orange banded witch’s hat.
Are you now a warlock? Asked his nemesis, Mr. Busybody Cat..
Roary’s loud sigh was not enough hint for this big buffoon.
Whose yowling is annoying every night next to the moon.

I am a stylish raccoon, Roary informed him in his plain way.
I can be an astronaut, physicist or physician any old day.
This hat does not make me a warlock, you fuddy fiddle fee.
Please take your busybody habits with you far away from me....

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