rich star, spends cash
new car, dash... smash!
God worked His wonders , through this obetient..And mostly humble man.'
God is the same yesterday today and
Indeed, tomorrow.' Divinely He plans.'
Signs of His passage.' On Moshe from
The 'get go' To this very day they still show
Of ' His guidance, of His Love
And The Way' we must go.' No prophet
No priest ordains right.' Unless the Spirit
Is guiding.' And though it be darkest night..
God is forever; the Everlasting light.' Work while He bids.'
Throw of the old yoke.' And He will surely win your fights.' As He did it for Moses
He will see all His true followers right
As bare winter trees begin to grow;
drive-through the woods features spring's show.
SOFTLY FALLS THE NIGHT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
softly falls the night
golden hues upon the land
peaceful evening sky
stars like diamonds
twinkle in dark velvet sky
night's celestial show
Howdy Modi was just a myth,
Rowdy Modi, to show my teeth,
No more than a fig leaf
My tariff’s no tariff,
And rowdy, to have a row with,
Why? He came in my way
Of Nobel, and must pay,
You know not how deep I’m beneath!
___________________________
Happenings | 40.08.2025 | USA, humour
Note: It is no state secret that Trump loves being flattered and buttered up. Occasionally he’s good at buttering up as well. He did that to Modi with ‘howdy Modi’ when he wanted Indian votes in his first go at presidency. Pakistan did it, as also Israel’s Bibi before it. India refused when he wanted credit (and undeservedly so) for Indo-Pak ceasefire. All are susceptible to praise, genuine or false, but Trump seems ravenous for false praise-- somewhat of the type Goldsmith hinted:
Full well they laugh’d with counterfeited glee
At his jokes for many a joke had he.
Our grandson’s in a show today -
We are his greatest fans -
So being in the audience
Is foremost in our plans.
The theater hosts some famous stars
So it will be a thrill
For Henry to be on that stage;
He’s tense, but knows the drill.
We’ll sit and watch and burst with pride.
(In Yiddish, that’s to kvell.)
Our grandson brings us so much joy -
As if you couldn’t tell!
All the TV shows tell me he feels the same,
When in reality I know he doesn’t,
In all the romance movies I watch how the girl gets the guy,
I know someday I’ll end up with someone,
Today is just not that day,
And he’s not the guy I will end up with,
I know it,
He knows it,
Everyone knows it,
Yet there is this tiny feeling that I want to see where it would go,
Even if it’s just me telling him about my feelings,
Everything returning to normal,
And never speaking of it again,
Sometimes I want to text him,
Tell him I want to hang out,
But whenever I think about it I feel like a stalker,
I’ve never felt like this before,
I don’t know what to do around him,
Do I smile?
Do I maintain eye contact when he looks back at me?
Or do I just pretend he isn’t in the same room as me?
Every door is open,
The universe is giving thousands of options,
I’m too scared to take any of them,
I seem to want him,
But not wanting the risk of getting hurt,
I guess that’s normal,
I hate feeling like this and not being brave enough to do anything about it.
We dance in shadows, silver and sleek,
Two hearts pulsing to the beat they seek.
Your lips taste like secrets, soft and bold,
In your arms, I forget what I’ve been told.
The moon is a spotlight, casting out sin,
Glittering echoes on ivory skin.
Leather and lace, perfume and wine,
The city fades—we blur the line.
No past, no name, no curtain call,
Just your breath rising, and mine to fall.
Diamonds shatter in the dark velvet sky,
We’re written in starlight, stitched in dream.
Every kiss is a flash of burning flame,
Dangerous, wicked, never tame.
Heaven’s jealous of this fire,
Hell can’t hold such high desire.
Whispers melt into primal rage,
Truth lives deep behind our eyes.
Chained to rhythm, drunk on sound—
We lose ourselves where love is found.
Tonight we’re gods, without the guilt,
Crushed we crash, in love we’re built.
Lovers in the night, never tame, never right.
In my experience
between the two
I'm not naming names
but what people say
and what they do
are not always
one and the same
as they don't follow through
life gets in the way
I understand
but that's no reason
not to let me know
there's been a change of plan
when told I'll call
give you a ring is when
I know I'll never
hear from them ever again
all in all
it's quite disappointing
and if nothing else
totally frustrating
Andy O’(Snaps fingers rhythmically) The air hangs thick with midnight blue/And the city hums a graffiti tune/ a voice cuts through, a velvet blade/Andy O’, where stories are made/Poet, Musician, Broadcaster's soul/Navigating the sonic scroll of a downbeat that will never fade/KUVO Jazz, a haven's light/On Sunday nights, banishing the uptight/The Nightside a whispered promise kept/Where restless minds and tired souls have wept/And found solace in a whispered rhyme/A tapestry woven, defying space and time/Mr. Andy O’ cradles the jazz, a smoky embrace/And invites the poetry to find its place/A conversation, deep and low/Of saxophone sighs and verses that flow/The ongoing relationship, raw and true/Between a trumpet's cry and Gil Scott heron spoken word on heartache, hope, and dreams deferred/In every chord and every whispered word/So tune in to the hip Andy O’/ let the darkness fade/As Andy O’ builds the jazzy serenade of stars on the poetry and jazz parade/ For on the Nightside, the truth is revealed In the marriage of poetry, and how jazz makes us feel to be real in the truth of it/ Andy O’ Snaps fingers, silence/ And walks away to broadcast for another day/
Tony Adamo
He dwells in all
but none know Him
save in a bliss squall
when thought forms dim
He framed laws to govern
that we may be as He
feel love’s bliss burn
God’s light see
heart is His home
igniting love’s incense
prayerfully chanting Om
know light is our essence
barren without love we die
a pure intent in us arises
to God we wingless fly
embracing surprises
we thus become the flame ~
God’s light that has no name
Let’s get this show on the road,
The car's still empty and we can't seem to load
Susie's applying makeup, Jake’s playing video games,
Mary’s scrolling her socials, where friends call her names.
I want to get to the airport, I want to be
clambering into an Impressionist painting of the sea
Ride the chestnut ponies, get back to something real,
My kids are in a rabbit hole, they forgot how life can feel.
(Chorus)
We're on an oven burner, like a doomed toad—
So let’s get out of here, get this show on the road,
We'll ride wild ponies, neighing by the sea.
We'll go back to living, we'll go back to free.
It helps sometimes to leave a comfort zone,
Children connected to the whole world, but to me they seem alone.
The old ways had their wisdom, and a simpler moral code,
Let’s flip this circus upside down; get this show back on the road.
BONFIRE NIGHT
LINE
1. november the fifth- }
2. layered rolls of liquid fog } S H O W
3. envelope the bonfire- }
4. the party becomes a } T E L L
5. damp squib }
The flower closed
Tired of seeking answers
Why things happen?
Why no rain when needed?
It's time for acceptance
Answers cannot be found
The importance of growth,
is going with the flow
Until the sun shines again...
Until the warmth renews...
into a blooming show again
6/14/25
Haiku in English a strict 5/7/5
the most difficult to contrive
Tanka adds a couplet 7/7
show then tell the poetic leaven
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