Short Mariah Poems

might be messiah
had become a pariah
was called mariah...

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J-oyful
O-ccasion's
H-appy
N-atal
A-ffair

M-irthfully
A-pplies
R-egards
I-n
A-crostic's
H-eartfelt

S-alutation
A-s
R-eader
T-hankfully
E-njoys

Topic: Birthday of Johna Mariah Sarte (February 13) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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She enters the room with a horrible stench
             A terrible curse for so lovely a wench
They call her wind Mariah
          It reeks of sweet papaya 
Here’s hoping she finally learns how to clench!
  




 2/3/22
 This one's for Jan!...

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Writing outside the audience,
applause means something more

Writing the words inherent,
oblivious to the score

Writing outside the audience,
and critical acclaim

Writing for time eternal
—Mariah calls your name

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)...

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Mariah Made into a Messiah


Remember when we called wind Mariah,
Who we made into a mature Messiah;
Had been said,
From Bible read,
And planned on being a paranoid pariah.
(Also he had brother who was a hyena.)

Jim Horn See if you can out do this poem.

Jim Horn...

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Across great plains, in rich soil valleys
beneath breathtaking, bold painted skies
amber cobras dance on graceful stems
swaying to refrains of flowing rhapsodies

Mariah plays for them on a whimsical flute
whistling notes float along on wind songs

hypnotized by her gentle rhythmic breezes
they bend and dip in choreographed allegro...

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Ochre Field

The ritual
Of hailing Ra
Begins anew each morning.

Golden faces
straighten to meet
The first rays of their namesake.

Dew-tipped petals
Surround the ebony Cyclops
As each giant flower awakens.

They stand
Vigilant in the field
As blossomed monoliths of life.

They sway 
In tune with Mariah,
Waiting to entice the pollen seekers....

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I Can Sing


I sing
a voice like an angel.
Some call me a songbird.
A melody,
Sweet singing and soft sounds
Come from my lips.
High.
Low.
Medium.
Not quite a Mariah Carey or a Whitney Huston “yet”.
I lift my hands and I use my body.
I tap my feet to the beat.
I stand tall like a tree and plant my feet hip width apart.
I open my mouth and out comes music....

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A dark cloud swept o’er me today,
and visited but couldn’t stay

It tried to blow my voice away,
but stronger winds then had their say

Poisoning rains lay overhead,
whose black veil lifts in mornings glow

Their invocation scoffed again
—by everything Mariah knows

(University Of Pennsylvania Hospital: April, 2020)
‘Thank You Drs. Torp, Thaler & Weinstein’...

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Don't eat off the tips of  your pens
tomorrow they might earn you a living

Don’t play with your pieces
Tomorrow they might start working

Don’t clean any of your lines
Tomorrow they might save a life

Poets are gods 
They grow old like the earth

Indelibly,
There works live like the cloud

“I created myself”

Dedicated to Mariah
Angelo. Deid may
2014....

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f*ck justin bieber 
f*ck harold and kumar 
f*ck huey lewis 
f*ck star trek 
  
  
  
f*ck everything that isn't classical music 
f*ck art that doesn't make sense who the f*ck would pay 
5 billion dollars for splotches 
of 
paint 
  
  
  
f*ck mariah carey 
f*ck reading books 
get a kindle god dammit 
it's 2012 
and people still read books 
and listen to the beatles 
what the f*ck is wrong with you troglodytes...

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Only Leaves

Their numbers are overwhelming
golden and brown transversing my path.
I abandon every one in each step forward.

Green lives, lived,finally 
fallen to the battlefield of my morning walk,
some burning red, the last fire extinguished.

Others are dry and crisp,
burnt toast of maples,
drifting and rolling as Mariah scoots them.

Is it the wind;
or are these pointy little corpses
positioning for Halloween tricks?...

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