("Winter Tree", 2023, original encaustic)
Celebrating White Supremacy
As the world turns….
ever faster and more wobblier
it’s hard to go a day
without hearing some reference to ‘White Supremacy.’
Of course it’s a bad thing, right?
Sure it is, until you think what it really is.
I look around; snow deep outside
but here indoors I’m warm
no wind or snow,
a steady even moderate clime instead,
not to mention safe and secure
with all the comforts of stove and frig
running water and electric light
and, not least, Wi-Fi!
And then, don’t forget,
there’s that trusty internal combustion engine vehicle
waiting outside that I can hop in
to go to town, to get the mail and more gas,
more jeans or nylon jackets or plastic bags,
and, of course, more groceries, like pizza and coffee!
The list just goes on and on,
as I write in miraculous digital bytes
with auto-correct to tell me how I’m doing
with the ever pesky English spelling and grammar,
and I’m left in awe
wondering how and why
everyone else isn’t celebrating
the fruits of this white supremacy
the whole world now enjoys
or at least aspires to...
(1/19/24)
Categories:
wobblier, appreciation, humanity, humor, irony,
Form: Narrative
WheelWright
By: Tom Wright
7/23/2006
Like a wheelwright’s newly finished wheel
Each spoke intact in the beginning,
But as the Wright wheel rolled through life
Spokes loosed from a life of spinning.
As with all things, time and abuses
Have left telltale signs of decay.
Until finally some spokes have loosened
Bringing difficulty into each day.
At last spoke Betty was beyond repair
Another, Joe, vanished and is unfound.
Mom & Dad bushing, from the hub are gone
Making it difficult to creak around.
At times we turn on an un-greased axle
And our squeaky parts don’t aptly fit.
We’re greeted each day with some new hurdle
As we remain sane and preserve our wit.
With loosened spokes the wheel gets wobblier
Each passing day is like another mile gone.
In the eyes of some this wheels quite useless
Someday, a single spoke will lie alone.
God knows and will call each spoke in time
He is cognizant of aches and pain we feel.
Spokes Norma, Jerry and me
Are left holding up this creakily old wheel.
Categories:
wobblier, age, death,
Form: Lyric
My desserts not by special rules
The cause of many mouths of drools
My special pie is a` La Mode
Makes finicky taste buds explode
Now my Mississippi mud
Why, it brings a mosaic flood
Then there’s my Peach cobbler
Many a big tummy wobblier
Now there is my pie of raisin
Surely to draw much praising
Why not ice cream your Apple pie
Just go on to heaven and die
Let me tell you, my Cherry cheese
I never stump a toe, or sneeze
My cheesecakes, never a fake
My critics in their boots quake
Now let me proceed to make
You my German chocolate cake
For my dear Cherokee momma
Never did used store bought drama
I learn from mom, you all know
She brought my brown eyes to glow
The how of my special desserts
Pleases so very much it hurts
With my scrumptious dessert
Taste buds desire more than just flirt
Bringing your lust to a pitch
You certainly need bring a switch
For: Dreamy Desserts
Sponsored By: Linda-Marie Bariana
4th Placement
Categories:
wobblier, funnyme,
Form: Couplet