Have you watched the video of a joyfull child, a boy running with just stumps for
Feet.' Waving what is left of his arms in joy
A child of war ravaged Palastine a real place in the middle east, where beach sand allows his actions,
cushioning the shock! as
He enjoys the days treats, the gifts of war and rumours of, in a place where vultures truly
Roost and also soar, where real-estate exponents would build luxury penthouses at that same shore.' And there will no doubt be buyers, avid for any spoils? Supporters of human averice wallowing
In each advance? Of conflict with its supperating now full blown boils.' God bless the boy, i don't know his name.' Lord
His example puts me to abject shame..'
I am against this, and indeed all wars and
The human buzzards, that gather, to rip at any spoils.'
Gentle lapping water
rolls sequently onto shore
like tiny crystals highlighted by the shining sun.
Blackened tree stumps stand
like soldiers on watch.
A pelican skins across the surface of the lake
in search of a tasty morsel
beneath murky waters.
The lazy dog basking in the sun
lifts an eyelid;
undisturbed
he resumes his peaceful nap.
Campfires send
spiralling puffs of smoke
upwards,
carried away wit the wind
followed by another smoke signal.
The sandy banks
with mounds of trodden turrets
lay in wait
fir creatures on dusk
patrol
seeking nightly nourishment.
The setting sun slowly
sinks
sending silver shimmers
across the lake.
Again as nightfall
descends
another day closes.
Tangerine tan man masterplan such chumps
Plumps to rain down bombs on Iranian clumps
Logic stumps as facts and pacts again dumps
Throat lumps as fossil fool fuel prices jumps
Getting trumped and thumped at the pumps
Oil barons gloat gazumps.. economy slumps
No cargo due to embargo everything flumps
Even a MAGA fan is now down in the dumps
Grumps got the hump with Mar a Lago frumps
Thicker than Forrest Gump deadlier than mumps
Here everyone dreams,
Hearing no one scream.
Hopes flow like a stream,
Hearts kicking but no deal.
Just the normal feelings,
The normal life.
The better stays in the dream,
Dreams playing from within,
Reality fleeing to the abyss.
A good look at yourself,
Your dream is described.
Like the mouth,
Too big,
Too loud,
Too many problems.
You are not the only one dreaming,
Others are screaming
For that same dream.
Flies dominate the world,
Gathering useless things for free.
Just a few honey makers
Stay and build together.
Beware of flies,
Remember their lies,
And know they will die
In the grave when they try,
Or pit where they fly.
Take a little bow,
At least to ages,
If not those offices.
But basically,
Look to the sky, knees down,
And say your words,
For heaven gives the world.
Check the road,
The thorn at your feet,
Stumps on the way,
Or the holes
Do not stop the heartbeat.
It's nothing to crash on a rash.
A faster stream splashes on the rock,
A steady one finds another way.
So lead your way
And be brave
pressure every mother
time will shout your glory
clutching pearls of peace
listen to the bands play
symphonies of sorrow
walk upon the water
let's go hand in hand
Pericles has fallen
winds have brought the change
particles of pain
somewhere joyous soldiers
screaming through the veil
stumps begin to crumble
lean into the plow
colors fade to darkness
sieze the view from jungfrau
paupers in the streets
have left their dreams behind
awake from sleep forboden
echoes laughter silence
cling to love arising
prayer the only answer
A small path stippled with the print of wind slurries?
runs along a snowy edge,?
scrub-oak nails down tilting stumps of ice.?
?
How old must the year become?
before a cockled bark sheds its wind-blighted hide??
?
The creek is a stretch;?
I tread through a sleet blurred flurry?
zag a rooted track to its frigid bank.?
?
Standing by the water,
crow wings flying form my black overcoat,?
I watch a flotilla of ducks?
pilot a channel through small ice floes.?
?
Then the ducks disappear; we disappear together?
as a hard mist crashes-in.?
I hear the creaking of tree-hung clouds,?
the crunch of frost-bitten shoots,?
a grinding of raw jaw bones on brittle sprigs.?
?
My warm breath pushes through the cold air
the sky returns to tints of sunlight.?
Saplings quicken under blackened limbs?
are tucked between lichenoid openings.?
?
And is that a greening moss,
is that a young crocus reaching?
spooky girls three went everywhere together
in rain, sleet or snow, any kind of Midwest weather
they were named Hortense, Helena and Holly Heather
Sisters? We were unsure, said my brother, Merriweather.
Almost acting as if cojoined, these three were rather creepy,
If one cried, the other two wailed and got unbelievably weepy.
They liked October, it seemed to be their favorite month of all.
I always got frightened when they appeared in the fall.
They transmogrified out of mushrooms or tree stumps or moss.
Appearing before our eyes, it was weird, said my cousin Hoss.
spooky girls three sometimes put spells on us too.
This is how they banished our friend Linda Sue Lou.
Do or die got to perform in the eye of the storm
Noise from the boys remember we did deport
Another loss 3 nought a new boss will be sought
The depravity of gravity the reality of this sport
Big Ben’s men finally hold court our Last Resort
Insult beaten twice has the Bazball loon cult lost its spice
Starc’s legend hewn from chumps stumps in clumps strewn
Shredded in the dreaded Ashes vice Last Throw of the Dice
Bogged down in a twit pit will be flogged if we just slog
Stokes spoke about going for broke showing a bit of dog
Aussie boon.. Over the Moon In the Clover lagoon
The Barmy Army will still croon their afternoon tune
As another buffoon’s marooned OZ media swoon
Sucking on their silver spoon our Last Chance Saloon
Last ditch on the pitch must bewitch this is High Noon
Did you hear the trees cry?
Wincing with pain as the saws bit.
Again,
And again,
And again.
Wailing as branches broke.
Sobbing great clouds of leaves.
In the end,
Sawdust laid where the massacre began.
The smell attacking my nose,
Of live wood laid low.
A neat stack of firewood.
The yard open,
Countenance to the sun.
Squirrels quickly found another route.
Birds chirped.
Yet I grieved the loss of every inch.
Cut to allow safe passage.
For a woman who no longer strides.
The stumps will remain,
Used for seats or a table.
I cried with the trees,
For time that has past to dust.
Not fretting couldn’t be gladder about getting podgy?
Forgetting about a stodgy bladder that’s definitely dodgy?
Sadder even snotty about needing a potty..regretting being dotty
Betting some grotty grumps about bumps & lumps anything spotty
Sometimes memory stumps.. only remember embers now befuddled
Somehow the huddled cast of the distant past still cuddled
Ashes of once clear flashes of near yesteryear appear muddled
Ribald oracle.. grinning about going bald...hair thinning
Apart from the ears and nose where it shows..grows & flows
Can't pretend follicle foes & woes.. do descend dear friend
Clearer you're now nearer to the rear end than the beginning
Refined increasingly find you do become more kind
Other than the tumour of another baby boomer
Defined needy seedy greedy.. must feed me consumer
Not a rumour..increasingly I pined for candour and humour
Chaps can perhaps blossom as a wined & dined late bloomer
No remorse.. scheming larrikin leaning's still in force
Gleaning the gleaming meaning of life is all about giving
Dreaming.. loving.. smile beaming and "living" of course
Around the stump, some giant leaves
Are reaching for the sky,
In defiance of the forces
Which allowed that tree to die.
They grow within a little square
Of soil in the park,
A sister stump in its own plot,
Alone and looking stark.
Perhaps those trees were felled because
Of some rare plant disease,
But if some saplings took their place,
It might have helped appease.
Instead, the stumps remind us
Of what once stood tall and proud
And those giant leaves announce
That Nature will remain unbowed.
Gentle lapping waters
roll sequentially onto shore,
like tiny crystals sparks, highlighted by the shining sun.
Blackened tree stumps
stand
like soldiers on watch.
A pelican,
skims the surface of the lake,
in search of tasty morsels lurking beneath murky waters.
The lazy dog basking in the sun
lifts an eyelid;
Undisturbed,
he resumes his peaceful nap.
Camp fires send spiralling smoke puffs upwards,
carried away with the wind,
followed by another smoke signal.
The sandy banks,
with mounds of trodden turrets lay in wait,
for creatures on dusk patrol
seeking nightly nourishment.
The setting sun slowly sinks,
sending sliver shimmers across the lake.
Again, nightfall descends.
Another day closes.
Cohorts of suits distort
Court the last resort
Damnation of immigration
Onslaught in cahoots cavort
Pander to propaganda slander
Escort darker fraught faces
From other races caught
To starker places.. shunted
Hunted like a sort of sport
History debunked
“Before” skunked & kerplunked
Lore of Yore junked
Fossil fuel full sumps
Well More is More
Trees flump become clumps
Of gnarly snarly stumps
Petrol pumps pour
Sheriffs thumps any grumps
Tariffs Gazumps…prices soar
Ready for the final encore?
I wandered through the forest felled.
Its stumps arrayed as scars.
Its bird song larks forever quelled,
to axed-silent memoirs.
Remnants of trees are now a maze,
traced by entrails of mists.
Curling up as veils between leaves,
that once held memories.
The moon's face shunned, shamed.
The wind scurried all around,
the graves of trees blatantly maimed,
along paths no feet had ground.
The forest of trees, lost its leaves.
Lost its old trunks of dreams.
Lost all its shade and shadows cast,
to vast bright white clearings.
I saw the ancient remnant dells,
spared of incumbent trees,
get crowded out by death-neath spells,
of clearings, felled down to knees.
The leather tethers kept loosening.
I had to pull at them until
they dug into your body
binding you to a rocking cross.
It was all for nothing
you died snapping at unseen knives,
arching up, bending time into
frozen waves.
You once said you were Irish/Scots,
Appalachian.
You called yourself: Applachan.
Sinewy girl --- wiry poppy stems
in you, and engine oil
to soften tenacious roots.
The fever racked you up.
It shook your bones loose.
It blossomed,
pouring you out
in thimbles of awareness.
In those intervals,
blue hills filled your eyes
with summer rain.
I would talk to you of Ireland.
We went there on that last night.
We made a hasty camp
in the dream felled woods,
the deep raw stumps
were already greening.
Then I watched,
and kept watching
as feeble death broke its teeth
on your blood.
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