To my friend, Miguel
Almost seventeen years, do you remember? We met in Canterbury
We lived in the same house. In a silent, English-style, beautiful road
Miguel, Miguel. My old soul brother. My Bible teacher. Do you remember?
Evening times, you gave me lessons, lessons from the Bible. Teacher
You are a signer. A marker. Your stigma is mine. I am your follower
I remember you. I respect your intelligence. Five languages. Spanish jewish
Miguel, my friend, I have tried so many times to find you in virtual life
But you do not exist. Why? I want to say thank you for my fifteen years. Reading
Your science magnetized me. My Bible Teacher.
From our friendship, my dear and respected flatmate.
Miguel
You are my friend
Where are you?
Missing
Your teachings
And your Bible
Categories:
signer, fate, friendship, life,
Form: Free verse
A tuberculoid South African miner
Was lately turned down by fiancée Dinah;
What shall her decision change to also move Mount Sinai,
Her lover part time book binder
To better forget his trusted Prophetess Regina;
Very unlikely now to be a solution finder
For his being further diagnosed with life-threatening angina;
All too inauspicious to not dream of things getting finer
Even if he should clench a lucky visa to China
For nursing back his body progressively getting thinner
Or clinch the more health-protecting job of document signer
Categories:
signer, anxiety, emotions, environment, health,
Form: Rhyme
What's in a name
I looked at my name
and I now must confide
I found so many things
that were waiting inside
I checked all the letters
for what there could be
And sat there amazed
by the stuff I did see
There’s a hinge and a chin,
a big grin and a cheer
Cries and a siren,
some heirs and a sneer
Found resin and rings
a genie, a screen
A singer, a signer
a sire and a scene
Saw generic hens
and ringers sincere
A Grinch and an inch
and rehires right here
There’s niches and riches
and itches and rice
A sheen and a gene
and a niece, very nice
So many things
I found in my name
No time for them all
and that is a shame
But maybe real soon
when I find extra time
I’ll post a few more,
just as long as they rhyme
1/13/17
Written for the: “What’s in a name?” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Categories:
signer, fun,
Form: Rhyme
As air and leaf litter are substrate for the bird.
And what makes a human. Separation from the substrate.
Believing the substrate and the subject are separately defined.
Whatever gives the poem form - three lines - is the substrate.
Things will be said. The signer and the seer must supply the words
Which are the substrate of the mind. A beautiful week ahead.
No hundred year storms, normal summer warming.
Your bones are white as lightning and strong as sticks and stones.
At Pat's 80th b'day party most of us are old and jolly.
250,000 port-o-potties. There's a way to wash one out
And a way not to. Arctic ice melt. Slushies. One can count
Past one or nine by inserting zero to keep the rows.
Implied is an order beyond the small order we impose.
Goes to greatness human and divine. The two white wines
Death brings to the garden are the love between good friends -
Abstract. Suppose there is no afterlife, to understand the end
Imagine the beginning - no brain, no mind, no name, no I. Zero
Had already been inflated and the rose was in the garden.
Categories:
signer, bird, friend, imagination, math,
Form: Verse