spry purebred feline
hailing from siberia
snowsquall royalty
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Will Putin listen?
Siberia gulags glisten
Hysteria seeds myopia
Creeds..deeds feeds dystopia
Crimea bleeds...greed cornucopia
Impassioned stock shock rationed
Shepherd & flock fashioned
Russian roulette yet again
Ukraine disdain cam-pain
Vladimir fears
Scurrilous sneers
Mutinous jeers
Career nadirs
Dissident disappears
Old school kidology
Muscovite cruel mythology
Satellite strewn astrology
Fossil fuel fool geology
Ideology without apology
Bizarre highfalutin Tsar theology
Snarling Stalin’s darling anthology
Dare me to diagnose my condition?
I'm diagnosed with depression
Or rather does depression have me
Even the sad rain cries for me
Or do I cry because of rain
I’m bipolar type one
Or so I’ve been diagnosed
My depression tells me I’m two
Or is my mind a torrent of rain
I’m an addict to dopamine
Or does scarcity seek fullness
I’ll nosh on forbidden fruits till I’m sick
Or is giving up Eden so easy
I’m a disgruntled loner
Or does the loner keep others away
Unable to invite patient guests in
Or am I none of these labels
I’m a crazy worker bee
Or does the hive have me
To the gulags this soldier goes
Or has Solzhenitsyn lost his queen
I am loved by a few someones
Or does someone feed my love
The unlovable embraced by a few
Or does depression dismiss them
I feel the sadness in every rain
I sense earth’s mad polarity
I am a hungry beast to a feast
I’m a lone tiger in a company of wolves
I’m loved even in my lonely Siberia
I’m a question more than definition
Or am I the answer unfulfilled?
Or will I let love go unanswered?
Spin the bottle, hoping it's not me
I dare me to diagnose myself
Sir! You Have Besmirched the Good Name Of My Pangolin
Nothing can be the same now -
before the recent pandemic
my companion Pangolin
Boris and I,
were carefree,
and happily plying our trade
as chimney sweeps in Siberia,
but since the ‘great lie’
we dare not show our faces
in any town or city,
for they have labeled Boris; a good, kind,
not too gentle creature
as a SPREADER'!
O the calumny. the infamy the inaccuracy!
Now our only recourse
is to have him dress up as an Anteater
and move to Bolivia.
I cannot vacation in Siberia she said.
There are wolverines there.
I would be promptly dead.
She knew they were fierce.
With huge claws and a crushing jaw.
She had heard the nightmarish stories from her own pa.
They would rip me apart, eat me for lunch.
My fear is gigantic, they would rip me a bunch.
We pointed out that it is no mystery….
No wolverine has ever attacked a human in history.
It did not matter.
Her mind was made up.
She would not go to Siberia.
She would stay home with her pup.
Some dreams reside within our minds,
In corners where they hide and bind.
While some wander in the mountains, high and steep,
And dive into the depths of the ocean, deep.
Some dreams mix with clouds, and fall as rain,
A refreshing shower, washing away pain.
While some witness destruction, with great force,
A warning to change, a deviation from the course.
Some dreams wander in the mountains high,
Scaling great heights, reaching for the sky.
While some are trapped in tricky puzzles,
Challenging our minds, testing our struggles.
Some dreams go to Siberia, to taste the wind,
A journey to the unknown, a path to find.
And some keep searching for you,
Repeating themselves, hoping to come true.
These dreams, so varied and unique,
Are what make our minds and hearts seek.
They give us hope, and make us yearn,
To explore this world, and its every turn.
Sacred Dwellers
I am of Native American born
To be caretaker of Mother Earth sworn
I heal with powers, a medicine man
Tribal’s wise supernatural shaman
I am a sacred carved out Totem Pole
To recount familiar legends, a toll
Insightful spirit animals pride in
Taking a part as a loved guardian
I’m the buffalo hunted to survive
Tipis, meat, fur, vital to stay alive
I’m the turtle known as the peacemaker
That’s firm, serene never a forsaker
I am lizard, killing me brings bad luck
The creation story I play, soul struck
I butterfly bringer of dreams, arrange
Transformation and life cycle of change
I the wolf early ancestor of thee
Totem animal, wise, social, and free
Icon salmon renews energy rays
The legend conveys, respect natures ways
* Shaman translation- The word originates from the language of the Tungus people of Siberia. It can directly be translated literally to “one who works with fire”.
* Tipis (teepees)
I know about uncompleted building
A Terrible lot it could start wielding:
Perhaps, not in Far-Away Siberia
But, quote me, here in Lord God’s Nigeria!
A Receiving Camp for Smokers of Weed,
The Thickest Spirals in times of vile Need;
All The Depraved in Neighborhoods shielding,
Cries of torture as victims are pleading …
Get ready for the Truest Euphoria,
People down with The Falsest Malaria;
A Scenario for The Angering Deeds:
How dare you there recite The Apostles’ Creed?
Also, a venue for Helpful Latrine,
Unless Keep-Off Signals you meet Urine.
Recognized her face from silent films
Not her name
Had to look her up
Born Apolonia Chalupec
Which I think is a gorgeous name
Hollywood renamed her Pola Negri
A name not half as fantastic
Or exotic or erotic and yet she was
She played two kinds of roles
Femme fatale
and tragedienne
She could do it too
Her life was filled with tragedy
Her father was sent to Siberia when she was a child
She had two marriages that lasted less than four years each
She lived to ninety, this silent film sex symbol
I would have gone back to Apolonia but not sure if she did.
Pola Negri, first European actress and singer
to be signed by Hollywood, Paramount Studio.
Why can the world not rid itself
Of this wart on the world body politic?
A man who thinks too highly of himself
Making the entire free world heartsick
Why must we have these Hitler-types
Who disrupt the growth of democracy?
They are, frankly, satanic prototypes
Who thrive on their narcissistic vanity.
Does he not realize the folly of his ways
That all dictators come to a sad finality,
Why does he choose to spend his days
Flaunting vicious international illegality?
The great Mother Russia needs no Putin
She will be greater without this rodent,
Seems we are dealing with a Rasputin
To Siberia this tyrant needs to be sent!
written March 14, 2022
What does Lord descends to the lowest heaven in the last third of every night mean?
1.No country on the planet earth has a permanent day or permanent night.
2.The North Pole has midnight sun for 4 or 6 months from late March to late September.
3.The northernmost town in the US,experiences darkness from November to January every year.
4.The Northern parts of Greenland,Alaska,Canada,Norway,Siberia have almost no daylight for months.
Couplet
Har kisi ka apna din apni raat
Har kisi ka apna nazriya apni baat.
Boby Fett’s adventures
I used to be a friend of Joseph when he was a bank robber
when he robbed a bank in Tbilisi, I helped him to get away
the money he said was to help his cause.
One can say he owed me a favour, which came in handy.
There was a revolution and Joseph became a president
that was ok, but he became brutal and one evening
when we sat drinking Georgian wine, we had a discussion
I called him a butcher.
I thought I was going to be shot, but since he owed me a favour
I was sent to Siberia with a bag of potatoes.
Luckily, I had a box of matches in my pocket a knife hidden
in my shoe, therefore able to survive to the last potato.
A wandering Sami people with their heard of reindeers on
the way to Scandinavia saved me.
For the Sami tribe, there is no border.
I took my old name back, Harry Finkelstein, a name I had kept
secret from Joseph, my friend from the bank robber days.
I got a job on the Manhattan project keeping tab of screws
needed to make a bomb, the rest is history.
The hummock
There is a hill behind the houses round and soft,
I call it a mother hill it welcomes you and murmur
How do you do?” and let you sit on a boulder
to enjoy the peace.
If you sit too long enjoying your sentimentality,
it wakes, the boulder gets cold and hard to sit on.
The wind suddenly blows, has a fragrance of Siberia and Vodka.
So, you walk around to keep warm and see wildflowers
hiding behind big stones.
You cannot pick them if you do? They will wizen and bring rain.
Walk gently now the aroma of spring is in the grass.
Behind the knoll, it is October grey and out of sight where no trees grow.
It is the mother´s hill burden concealed from the world.
Wrong is right and right is wrong.
Long is short and short is long.
Black is white and white is black.
Toilet paper we may lack.
All is zero. Zero’s all.
There’s no writing on the wall.
Down is up and up is down.
The scientist is now a clown.
Toes need hands and hands need feet.
Siberia does not need heat.
Cold is hot and hot is cold.
The old are young; the young are old.
Kitties bark and dogs meow.
There is no need of money now.
In shadows, shine. In sunlight, lurk.
He who works hard is a jerk.
Harsh noises blind, and snow storms burn.
No child is left behind. All learn!
Illogic see and reason lose.
Never have to pay your dues!
Dead’s alive; alive is dead.
To sleep well, do not go to bed!
Straight is crooked; Crooked’s straight.
Does heaven even have a gate?
Hell is heaven; heaven’s hell.
All humanity is well.
Light is dark and dark is light.
Peaceful earthlings like to fight.
The rich are poor; the poor have riches.
Politics leave us in stiches.
Night is day and day is night.
Right is wrong and wrong is right.
Sept. 11, 2021
For the Nonsense Rhyme Poetry Contest of charles messina
Now for 'A BRIAN STRAND 1093' Poetry Contest
The failed Revolution
In my childhood´s town, there was a blue neon sign
On top of a five-level building, “Jesus Saves”.
I asked my mother what “saves mean.
Souls, she said without looking up as she was reading
the communist manifesto dreamed of the day when workers would take over the factories
and throw the obese capitalists into prison.
She tried to emigrate to the Soviet Union. but she was turned down
she had no skills other than putting sardines into tins.
Mother made gruel that day, and I was allowed to scrape the brown sticky residue in the pot.
A famous over-rich capitalist sits in jail in Siberia
He has the internet and can talk to his friends. I wonder what
my mother would have thought of this.
He had been found guilty of stealing his oil
to avoid taxation.
No, not, the revolution mother was dreaming of.
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