Old Family Photo Album
Family photo album
The entire family is long deceased
Album ends up in a thrift store
Full of beautiful family photos and history
Sits on shelf unsold
Gathering dust
You want their
affection
but your words
to disdain
I voted for you
thrice
and would do so
again
But the many
unsold
who vote
with their heart
Abandon you now
as your
ego
cavorts
Assuming
your schtick
is attractive
to all
You strut like
the ‘Emperor’
and naked
befall
Overlooking
the obvious
what the simplest
man knows
To be liked
is a mandate
and lost
— in your show
(Sunday Morning New Shows: February, 2026)
Paintings unsold
children unfed
emotions ignored
storied unread.
Hearts on the sword
wars cloaked in red
purple-hearted pope
the artist is dead.
An unmarried girl
in the wilderness
Any hopes of a suitor
are slim
Her virtue unsold
forever braving the cold
She waits for the promise
of him
An unpublished poem
in the syllabus
Any pressure to edit
unmoved
The words as they lay
both hunter and prey
To become what the future
— will choose
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
Click, Clap, Ego Inflation
They sit behind the veil of screen
thinking cheating is a site unseen
each clap a cheer that was never earned
everyone laughs, for the spotlight is on
shining light on the fraudsters pen
vain deceit
ghostly stats floating in silent scorn
their own applause, no one cares
what is a Baker
if your bread is stale and unsold
your store is empty
a hollow soul
cheaters cheat, they never glow
Feeling catish this morning, surrounded by Zio lies and cheating is easier for me to see when happens elsewhere too, peace be upon you.
The staff of my Father enjoining the past
futurity’s herding a bleating morass
The bloodline of orphans forever is linked
tattooing the flock with invisible ink
The first time the last time when nearing the end
tomorrow’s ungifted excuses portend
And times better nature is better untimed
beginning and ending forever conjoined
Eternity’s fenceposts hem in with disdain
all future inclemency fire and rain
But just as that last final sheep stays unsold
— my Father returns to re-shepherd the fold
(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)
I've been listening to your eyes
for what feels like eons,
noticing how the rain cries
unto your purposeful lips,
excited also, by the sounds of your
beautiful breaths in the smooth sunlight,
Tapping the pool of love blood,
rippling rose restless
to the edge of a frozen bloom
where the youth of our love wonder stood,
speaking to one another through playful madness,
tempting tragedy to resume
so to confess innocence in the fire flood
of the raw poetry pulsing in divine mood,
I find you in the fragrance of warm faith
and your eyes sing of sorrow unsold to sin,
palmprints upon our hearts bespeak a dangerous heat
that says love born of longing will never be safe,
for a moment we rue what's true about heartbeats lonely and thin,
You pull me within a hue of genius and clue of spirit discrete
revealing a teaching of soul engineering
where the meaning of living
is loving the bleeding
of pure beauty fleeting -
J.A.B. 02-19-2025
In the velvet hush of evening’s fall,
Where shadows weave a gentle thrall,
The whispers rise, a sacred call,
From hearts that wear the night like shawl.
Beneath the moon’s soft silver veil,
Their voices strong, their spirits frail,
Yet through the dark, they will prevail,
Their truth, a quiet, mournful wail.
In every line, the pain takes flight,
A dance of words through endless night,
They pen the wrongs, the desperate plight,
Yet find in dark, a spark of light.
The stars above, a thousand eyes,
Bear witness to the tears, the cries,
But still, their songs of hope arise,
A testament that never dies.
For in the ink, both black and bold,
Are stories that are seldom told,
Of chains unbroken, dreams unsold,
A history of strength, controlled.
They sing of skies both vast and free,
Of oceans deep, an endless sea,
Where hearts and minds, though bound, might be
Released through blackened poetry.
And so, they write, through endless night,
Their words a beacon, burning bright,
In every verse, they claim their right,
To be, to live, to shine in light.
They interviewed the artist
inside her large blueprint mansion.
At one point, she criticized America
for being overtly materialistic.
Her painting studio was large enough to
house half a dozen desperados...
Instead, it harbored dozens of giant unsold paintings.
I was amazed by how bright a person could be completely blind to their own
devastating hypocrisy.
SHEEPSHAPE
If not a ram then a sheep is a ewe
White and woolly, docile it’s true
One of many, as part of a herd
Clustered together, as preferred
Various strains are kept and bred
Unless taken for mutton instead
But there are several sheep breeds
Enough to fulfil lamb eaters’ needs
Sheep so unwanted in the wild west
They ate grass that made beef best
But lambs are cutest, as we know
Gamboling around, white as snow
So cuddly, and quite nice to hold
But not so much when they’re old
Wool is a raw material for clothes
Soft and fluffy as everyone knows
But wool can be spun into big balls
Remaining unsold until knitting calls
In Greece, sheep’s milk fares better
As there it is used for making Feta
One can even hear sheep from afar
But not so loud as to raise the baa
Boldly I exhume exclusion, a badge of sacrifice
Milestones shunned, money’s usual manoeuvre
Cultural flimsy stronghold, servant’s fiscal price
Top tier requires slaves toil all day for approval
Nonetheless, pleasingly, I hail our lucky country
Offers safety, anonymity, hovel unacknowledged
No need to solidify alliances, desperately hungry
Primed pilferers for immediate advantage pillage
Supplementing streetscapes bolster unsold soles
Trove tumbledryer drums cook my new costume
Accesses babyboomer tower, to fire escape stole
Secure deep sleep from moonless cement room
Adverse to version of
us who refuse to assimilate
A new season - Winter
Begins today
*Neighboring Mauna Kea has been sleeping for centuries, but notice the red flows popping and flowing in the gray areas below Mauna Loa's actual summit. Those are rift zones that pave through gray areas untouched, then pop out further downhill wiping out whole communities. BEWARE OF RIFT ZONE--which has been ongoing now.
Mauna Loa created Kilauea Iki, Pu'u O'o, Halemaumau, and Loihi Seamount (the underwater volcano).
*Image of The Big Island Rift Zones by UHH
A Rift Zone
Our fatigued town of Hilo by the bay,
woke late Sunday and watched black turn to gold.
Midnight's oil peters ere dawn the next day,
seen three lava streamed, some people unsold.
Volcanologists call it, a rift zone,
where red skies mock as magma glows on top
while forcing lava tubes neath, treks unknown.
O'er a hundred quakes daily, stresses swap.
Slams of earth's crust formed Everest's complete,
Mauna Loa was churned out from the ground up.
Twenty-nine faced thirty-three thousand feet,
shows this volcano's peaks, win the gold cup.
Confidence of sight, conscious bets clearly,
ignorants deal with escape plans dearly.
2022 December 01
Like you I get old,
Like you equal water hold,
I’m like you at core,
All vegetables here sold,
It’s just that I get tired more
And so, need to sleep,
We both date with death must keep,
You shrivelled, unsold,
I hungry when and too old,
As sowed so we reap.
___________________________
Tanka |28.08.2021|
The shape of my spirit,
the weight of my soul
To measure the longing
of wishes unsold
Tomorrow the color
of yesterday’s stain
The taste of each memory
—this moment retains
(University Of Pennsylvania: February, 2021)
L- Lavish gifts, I recall from Jesus’ birth:
I – Inre - the frankincense, the myrrh, the gold.
F- Focusing on cost should not count for worth
E – Even if certain “wants” remain unsold.
S – Some folks who give, of course, have other views.
M – Many exchange because exchange is due.
Y – Your presents can evoke amazement’s muse;
S – Surprise someone who doesn’t give to you.
T – Try giving undercover – say, a toy
E – Encourage children with a secret gift.
R – Riddles without answers bring givers joy.
I – Invite outsiders over, snub your thrift.
E – Enigma: aim to give yourself away;
S - Spend time with those who need you every day.
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