Short Wardens Poems

bloated pigskin tossed
bucket heads guarded line cross
striped wardens flagging...

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A mean sentence written in the eyes
Of accountants and prison wardens
Blood-thirsty with night sticks brim
-ming with electric hate laughing
in empty rooms glasses slide and
break the walls of time cliché into
mirrors of fascination and grievance
levitate voices speaking sand…...

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There is a prison inside everyone,
Where unforgiveness hides.
There are no bars on the windows,
No locks on the doors,
No guards and no wardens,
But unhappiness and loneliness abide.

Only you can open that prison,
And chase the unforgiveness away.
When Love and Forgiveness enter,
Unforgiveness cannot stay....

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The car's engine Fred often fires.
He. simply, first checks the car's tires
And off moves, tires spitting fires:
Tubular rollers end up criers;
Traffic wardens with their "Stop!" liars:
Fred at what he loves never tires!

The strength Free Fred uses he hires
From booze and kola sold by Mires...

After three months Fred's Benz for buyers!
Often worse than cars long in mires....

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Listen to poem:

I wonder whether the birds I watch
mind being watched?
Do they wonder what the hell 
the bird watchers are looking at so intently,
with such devotion to the census?
Or wonder what are the itchy twitching bewitchers
are carrying in their camera bags?
Can there be no privacy for flimsy shy flutterers?
Why can't the twitchers leave us be
to flock and gaggle free of the
unwelcome stares of
the watching wardens?...

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Elastic evil in encroaching European’s enterprising motives.
Level-headed land animal leaves African lowlands.
Eventually they are followed by those who shall not be named.
Private collector hopes tusks will not be a mismatch.
Horrific hunters hold hand-held machetes.
Active game wardens wait for the hunter’s hammiest moment.
Newly arrested poachers rapidly chew their pink mastiche.
Threat to tusks thwarted, wardens sit down to taste tasty tzimmes....

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Somewhere lost the children are
One left looking for a car
Another one ran far away
Looking for a decent stay
 the little ones have a plan their devising
While chasing after a sun that's rising
 
A moment or two
And a glimpse from you
Then their wardens go berserk
Wondering why they will not work

Within a memory the children shall find
A different world that's still entwined
What right have they I wonder still
To trudge along that lonely hill...

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