my dog, Beau loves Rex the TV dog detective from Canada
his head turns from side to side as he watches Rex
This dog is always in a precarious situation
Having to climb over semis and bridges to jump bad guys
Bad guys with guns who have horrible aim, never hitting Rex
Remnants of the 1960’s tv show called Lassie
Beau is barking instructions to Rex now, warning him.
It is hilarious to watch.
Often times Beau tries to climb up the cabinet into the TV
More entertaining than the times he catches himself in the mirror
Or barks warnings to his own reflection in our shiny credenza.
More later, Beau and I are on the edge of our seats. Rex is in trouble.
Summer sighs softly, pausing to watch the golden days slipping away,
When the sun trickles through the gently trembling birch leaves,
Whispering of growth and ripening, the enchantress transforms the fields,
Into gold woven from corn, swaying in the rhythms of bountiful harvests.
White clouds gather, like storms waiting to unleash their song,
She gathers new bluebirds in her warm heart, singing with their harmonies,
As the light fades, like that comma of silence between day and dawn,
She savors this moment before autumn plants its frost upon her cheeks.
A dance of time, a pause between seasons, a dream of the gentle equinox,
Where time seems to stop, and nature weaves its silent story,
The whole world takes a deep breath, captured in the beauty of a fleeting moment,
Summer retreats slowly, making way for autumn to sing its symphony of leaves.
watch my wristwatch
and what time is it
I cannot not tell you
though this is partly sunny
each laughter from the room
is that document
in a time of war
the evidence is happiness
we are deaf near the wall
WATCH
she gave
I treasure
when I check the time
and see the diamonds on
bezel and dial, I smile
“her love stays with me all the time”
It's so exciting
Very amazing
When you fall
Into the right circle
They never leave you
Steadily thriving and standing
With you no matter the season.
Always boosting
Your confidence
Giving you muse
To act not react
Giving you enthusiasm
Enlightening you;
Discernment over discrimination.
There's nothing
Compare to
Your authentic ones
Never pick any over you
Always interested in you
Prioritizing your wants and needs
Steadily doing anything and everything for you
Watch your circle, so you can overcome all obstacles.
About to procrastinate
am putting it off
setting it aside
it's never too late
it can wait
as
now is the hour
no time
like the present
nothing important
I can't circumvent
didn't wind the clock
gave my watch away
don't need to know
what week it is
nor hour of the day
nowhere I have to be
no one's expecting me
from this moment on
no long hard climb
just eating drinking wining dining
I'm living on island time
The stars have descended a little lower, to keep us —
My kinsmen and I —company on this night watch
On a newly roused African night.
We filch a little bit of the effulgence of the waking moon,
Reluctant, with the invasion of jealous clouds, their plumes
Fragile with inconsistency.
We rely on the luminescence of each other’s eyes and the trust
In our hearts
Tinder, broken by flying flickers of fireflies,
Shine through the breath of darkness, dis-virgining the chunky yolk
Of secrets and the clout of night, so corvine.
Every breath keeps us warm and frightens the monsters lurking
Around the lean corridors of the enchanted thresholds.
The heavens stare downward —witnesses to a stifling explosion of
Will; so are the crepitating crickets and cicadas —in prayers they
Egg us on, and through borrowed liturgy of nocturnal canticles.
The heartbeats in us make silenced music —loud only by the essence of
Gaiety and humming drums lightly tapped by ancestral fingers,
Helping to warm our hearts and will in the face of the severest darkness
Made lighter by the glows of slow-running lights — the broad painting of
Dawn.
owls do not have a lot of control of their bowels
they manage inventory in a bookstore named McPowell’s
If you are looking for books on fouls, fans or vowels
or picture books of thick rod dowels or fluffy pink towels
Watch your head because McPowell’s owls cannot control their bowels
If you get too far down in the sea you will miss
the beautiful colors that swim by like this.
There is a school of flame angel fish, orange and bright.
If you get too far down, you will not see them or any light.
The mandarin fish are coming by to say hello now.
Some are fluorescent red and green, a real wow.
oh, my oh my It is a group of purple fin fish I think.
Their posh purple fuchsia color borders on dark pink.
Watch out for the corals, they are devastatingly dangerous you know.
With a gorgeous orange, yellow and peachy like look, glistening so.
The ocean has a delightful combination of blues and greens today.
Unsure if it is pacific teal or aquamarine, but it is joyful and gay.
I would be wearing a backpack and puppies would be hanging out of it.
Their tongues would be hanging out too, and they would be smiling.
Eight, nine, ten, eleven puppies. Because you cannot have too many.
My face would host an enormous smile.
I would proudly show the holes where teeth used to be.
To let you know that I am not vain, or socialized.
I would be carrying a sketch pad, a notebook, brushes and acrylic paints.
My clothing would be speckled and splashed with reds, greens and yellows.
My I-pads would be hidden. For I use both to cheat at word games.
I might not want people to know that.
My hair would not be brushed. I would be limping thanks to arthritis.
Dogs would be following me, guarding me, saying “this is my mama”.
I would have enough sandwiches in a bag to feed me and the pups.
Yes- hustler,
all dressed in his lies.
Slick talking,
devil tongue.
Loves ladies of all ages,
you watch out for him.
No matter the situation is
A true friend never leaves
They are like a spare tire
Help you cope a flat tire.
True friends are like gems
Precious but rare
False friends are like dry leaves
That scattered everywhere.
Heartthrob in damsel drag
Belief of human bile
Completely instilling cascading dregs of mechanical flesh, bones and spit
64th avenue
And coiling deft doom
Winged balls of bulging blood and speckled steel
Merry wails and flutters of moths unsealed
Fitted upon falling kneel
And reckoned release of rotten roadkill-
Rats and babes and brats
Congealed candy and sickeningly sweet brandy
And hailed light of epiphany to choke, swallow and spit
And strangle without a hand nor handle but grit
Of groil and crevices of menaces heralding honed notes
And a lone liver in fathered infirmary
Black backed in breachers
Potted a bulge to indulge the fickle maggots of dissociation
Emulsification and hearty sniff of
Whitened slice and slithers of snow
Dregs to drag and hone and throw
Up upon bedded saline laden road
Of rows and rows and pounds
That drag rotten flesh afresh from the hound
Sutured from spine to fluttered wing
The hide
Plucked apart from rat to brat
And collared collier stepped afresh with new hide and throw
And stubborn stubbled child with a new mind in tow
5//5//2025
"Whose discernment is correct?!"
"They read but don't watch for Me,
So simple truth turns knotty:
Captives in a doctrinal fence,
Their interpretations lack sense,
Their expertise a mere pretense.
The truth originates with Me,
My illumination lets you see:
Your eyes see what I've planned,
Your ears obey My command,
Your mind will then understand.
My people will be purified,
My enemies will be petrified:
My plans - fully carried out,
Erudite prowess - a cop-out,
Dogma of men - a sellout.
The Scriptures are all about Me,
So seeking Me first sets you free:
The arbiter of truth is not man,
You must trust Me and My plan,
I will finish what I began.
My answer to you, 'Just watch Me!'"
"Pretty clouds filled with water, then it rains down." By Poet
I love to sit and watch the clouds,
as they dance across the big blue sky.
If I watch and wait what will I see,
animals like a zoo walking by.
One day I ask a big bright white cloud,
where are you going?
I was shocked when it answered back,
off to play it replied to me.
I did not know clouds could talk,
then I heard back-as a rule we don't.
I asked-how can pretty clouds rain down?
We get sad from traveling over the world,
when we have had enough then we rain tears down.
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