Let no light get unshone.
Let know voice get unheard.
Let no soul get unmoved.
Let no heart not see the silly genius
Of Bob Newhart.
Let all good organic being find a way
To our own joined great truth.
Like finding it funny to hear two
Daryls introduced one after another.
his love for her dissolved, diminished, and dwindled down.
her uniqueness looked farfetched now, bizarre; she was a clown.
after all the fawning he had done in the past six months, he felt weird.
Glad when she found another fellow, his conscience now cleared.
76.
The Sort of Pet I am to Thee
Consider that I'm not a pest
As I am subject to thy behest
Perhaps I'm a rooster
Who wakes up earlier
To tell my master
I'm ahead him/her
Perhaps I'm a cat
Who incurs my wrath
On every destructive rat
In my keeper's hut
Perhaps I'm a canine
Who barks even past nine
When someone crosses the line
I can even break a spine
Perhaps I'm a pig
Who just lay fat and big
Can't even do a graceful jig
Only comfort it wants to dig
Perhaps I'm a carabao
Friend of iron plow
Machine for more than just an hour
Works with even humble bow.
If I'm all or none above
I hope to me you have some love.
-11/29/2011
(Dumarao)
*confused about career disposition
Her sort, A-trembly, wavy
Spurning all nets morn to eve
I still doubt, re-encountering;
Who first was hard to believe!
Fair things, fairest I suspect
Remain, and will ever so
In light, shyest; imaginary world's.
In fairy-flight's afterglow.
The British Rail saying,
'See it, say it, sorted,'
is so annoying
it should be aborted.
Travelers, from abroad,
are befuddled then bemused,
when first by this phrase
their ears are abused.
But the worst is yet to come...
it sounds like, 'Sort it,'
over the tannoy
and must be fixed by he who caught it.
I can make the world dissappear
in this moment all that I am is lost ,dissolving into the sunset
I smile as dusk comes to run her cool fingers through my hair
This warm breeze a gentle reprieve
From the harsh cold of winter
A day in the sun lounging thawing my body against the heated rocks
This is the comfort of your embrace
A sweet lie in the middle of a bitter truth
I can touch the sun as it blooms
Pushing through the frozen earth
My heart opens
A thousand yellow petals before you
Like a ghost ship idly mooring
Cleaning your own mess is totally boring
Sorting other people’s stuff is fun however
Why don’t we switch houses in cold weather?
I’ll sort yours and, you sort mine.
We might both have a really fun sorting time.
How difficult could this trade of services be?
I just have to find someone as messy as me.
When life underpaid Max
~ he started taking kickbacks
Trump has been breaking laws
create and cause crime with his claws
prefers premiers and skinny shahs
rile up people with his paws
likes pulling at loose straws
at his hamburger always knaws
likes women who wear big bras
have heard his oohs and aahs
Trump gives me the blahs
have heard his youthful ye's with horrible hahs
prefers hearing much applause
poor and dimwit crowds Trump draws
putrid picture he draws
sings do ray mes while forgetting his faas
skip so la ti do and away we go
cut great face which was greeted with gauze
found his big mouth in front of jaws
like big bird Trump constantly caws
seen slidding in nude in slick spas
plural of his ta is tas
would see His lost doll while in shower stall in urban sprawl
wish Trump would be so kind, get his small hands off of my behind
To see Trump tight bra she was bringing; Out big breasts did start springing
You have to send me some comments, criticism
and complaining about this collection of lines
that have been in my Horn Horrible Haiku.
which you may ensue out from a blunt blue.
I’m the Lord-of
Kind-of Sort-of
Can’t make up my mind
No yes nor no
Just maybe baby
Give me some more time
I’m not ready
To go steady
Can’t we stick to dating
Don’t you worry
There’s no hurry
Nothing wrong with waiting
As the Lord-of
Kind-of Sort-of
I will not court a bride
Til’ came the Queen
Of In-Between
Who also can’t decide
We’re both unclear
Which way to steer
And should we say, ‘I do’
Then thought, perhaps
We’ll let time lapse
Until we have a clue
As the Lord-of
Kind-of Sort-of
I don’t get much done
But with the Queen
Of In-Between
We sure have lots of fun
Through the edging of the night
he was there
steadfast and strong
teetering at the tip of her thought
a yearning to be
allowed
to become undone
through the hallowed
the wanting
the waning
until the rise of a new lit sun
for night was her day
and he held her young
through it all
ancient echoes still sung
If you want clarity of thought,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you want to increase your chances of becoming rich,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you want a tidy house,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you want to move up the ladder at work,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you have a problem that needs solving,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you are having a relationship that is in crisis,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you have money problems,
Then sorting is a skill you should give some thought.
If you are a farmer,
Chances are you will not need me to tell you,
How important it is to sort the wheat from the chaff.
I try to keep my brain alert
By writing poetry.
I am still trying to think,
But my mind is deserting me.
My mind is in a muddle,
As is my pitiful brain
It is a constant struggle
Am I going insane?
Or have I already gone
And I don't know it yet.
Will my mind recover?
Or is this as good as it gets?
I am becoming invisible,
Like a plain blank wall
I blend in with the surrounding
And cannot be seen at all.
I have become a spectator.
Not an innovator of life
I must keep my mouth shut,
Because my words may cause strife.
Plain and simple words
It is my language of choice.
Individual thoughts
That gives me a voice.
To share opinions,
And different points of view.
Every day teaches each other,
And learning too.
I try to keep my brain alert,
By writing poetry
I am still trying to think
But my mind is deserting me.
Maybe I have a writing cramp,
I am sure I do not know
Whatever you like to call it
I wish it would hurry up and Go!
The best sort of wonder
Stares blankly, not just at
Rain, and its pooled splat;
As informs mesmeric
On how each act projects
Its ripple effects.
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