Bike riding,
hair flying.
Ball hitting,
bases getting.
Puppy wrangling,
treats jangling.
Tree climbing,
perfect timing.
It's my world—
an American girl!
I have seen some sloppy sonnets
Syllables buttoned wrong
Rhymes wrangling for recognition
Tripping over the final couplet
Rambling free verse
Ignoring the caution of line breaks
Stuttering in search of continuity
Freedom stifled in search of submission
Haiku
Mimicking a Geisha dancer
Mocking Basho’s frog
Quatrains leaving the station
Destinations … unknown
Mice trapped in a maze
Cursing the odor of the cheese
Knowing it is not a goal
But a test
Forget the cheese
Become the mouse
Dodge the traps
Be thrilled by the adventure
Of trying on a sloppy sonnet
Awe & shock bowlers in the dock our warlock & glock “the judge”
Rapscallion and stallion wrangling with dangling golden medallion
Facing the pacing battalion on our latest sinking Caribbean galleon
Our burly oracle with each follicle so curly a rock that won't budge
In that 90’s dungeon Robin our classy curmudgeon brassy bludgeon
Truncheon fine dining on a hurly burly Courtenay & Curtly luncheon
Calms alarms and qualms delivers us from harm with stoic heroic psalms
Call to arms more like baobabs than palms those offside charms “the Judge”
Speedsters scary & lairy others wary prime time for our hairy chest fairy
Robin our pace Pontiff willow ace not a whiff or a riff or sniff of what if
Believers in his jobbing levers will go biff in any tiff that's the pith of Smith
Not just a county squire but quite possibly the ultimate Hampshire Sire
Calling card hit it so hard earned the fable label of both BATman & Robin
Hall of fame name can’t smudge hats doff to a complete one off “the Judge”
A quiet reverence prevails
as prayers are whispered over the sea
where great seabirds take flight
and sails caress the Pacific breeze.
Ever alert to ocean’s moods
we navigate throughout the day
sea swells heave from deep to deep
tides and currents have their way.
A sudden gust of wind creates a thrill
we tack along the Northwest line
the ocean guides with wings that glide
along longitudinal paths sublime.
Wonder reigns as whitecaps spray
across our bow, a brisk baptism
a spiritual revival of refreshment
aware of life the sea has given.
Few venture the Pacific, close hull
wrangling ocean’s might with mere sails
seafarer’s saltwater dreams soar
over the sea and ocean trails.
Rebel Houston
(Snaps fingers) Acoustic Digital Hybrid... a breath, a fusion. So, what lurks beyond jazz funk, huh?/
Thinkin' big time, are you? Do you dig? Can you feel it as you pursue your passion for this jazz thing/
The inventive spirit of Rebel Houston burns, A saxophone supernova, learning, turning. Always into what's NEXT,/
not what's been. Right now, he's wrangling angles, Melodic patterns jagged and electric, Acid Jazz funk bleeding into Afro bebop./
Man, this cat... this cat is the vibe. The pulse. The current. Houston keeps step, Step, step, steppin', Into the Motherland, the source of love and hope, forged in sound,/
Blown through his tenor horn, a shimmering prayer. Meditation on the struggle of mankind, Aches in his fingertips, screams from the bell,/
Arranged, composed, a jazz logic unfolding, Melodic construction, harmony shaped anew./
This isn't just noise, it's jazz music architecture. It's the blueprint for the soul. New jazz funk, carved from the digital dawn, infused with ancestral fire./
So, are you hip? Are you listening? This ain't just music, it's a revolution. It's Rebel Houston, And it's happening… NOW. (Another snap)
ravens croak
applauding twilight
larks churr
saluting sunrise
a last dance over
an inverted verge.
a perpetual encounter
the last mesh of murk
against gleams of glow
held in abeyance,
opposites wrangling
like birth and demise
asking intricate questions
preserve or discharge
uncertain anxieties
ravens claim temporal flesh,
their ravenousness relished,
dominant despotism
it seems.
yet our lark’s song resonates
stirring our species
influencing our intimate impressions,
channelling subconsciously
our choice
around that inverted verge
eternally guarding us
Howling winds flung me into the sea
waves lashed kelp ropes around me
my belligerence grew when I was seized
anger brewed the tighter they squeezed
With fists raised and teeth clenched
I resisted the harder they wrenched
voice rang out in acrimonious scream
my face contorted, wild eyes agleam
spittle dribbled from cracked lips
I neared the verge of sanity's eclipse
Man is but an elfin grain of sand
a mortal never has the upper hand
when wrangling with a sea of thunder
I was punished and plowed asunder
beneath coral reefs to ocean's floor
I cursed until I could no more
My swearing wails echoed my destiny
retched was my body from an angry sea
briny foam spit me on the rocky shore
done with me like an oft beaten whore
My crime was that I'd chosen wrong
the one I loved became my swan song
Piercing needles of torrential rain
burning injections increased the pain
Such bitter tea the cruel sea can steep
and I, a crumpet, tossed in restless sleep
They came in a single file
Noiseless like wisps of smoke
They'd taken their chances
For they say it's always greener
On the other side.
From the watch tower I perceived
The procession with a depressing pity
They had crossed that line
They had defiled our land
In their innocent quest
For a better day
Retribution was sure to come
Fist, fire and sword in varying measures
I blew the horn.
For that's my role as a watcher
Several others rang in response
Far down below the barracks stirred
So vigorous it must have been a stampede
Then I saw the flaming torches
The cavalry. Itching for combat
Sworn to protect their kin
To safeguard the liberty of the land
To create a formidable history
To die in battle, to bask in the glory
Therefore they advanced
Fearless, bloodthirsty
Against a crippled race
A wounded lot on the trek
Blighted by hunger and their wrangling
Marred and charred and limping
And the fire descended upon their heads
Against the gates they slouched
Begging for leniency
Yet the gatekeeper was a valiant man
And a people were roasted a rusty black
While he hummed to himself
An old hunting tune.
I'm no legal expert, I'm the first to say
Nor do I live in Israel, though I'm a citizen anyway
But it's hard to watch a proposal tear my country apart
So I'll write a few lines here, straight from my gut and my heart
What if Congress could overrule the US Supreme Court's every decision
It seems a surefire path toward unprecedented division
Imagine Roe vs. Wade subject to Congressional wrangling and supervision
The resultant laws, a recipe for chaos, scorn and derision *
So, that parallels what's been proposed in Israel's judicial revisions **
~ likened to an axe making the finest of incisions
__________________________________________________________
*With every change of power in Congress, (almost every election these
days), Roe vs. Wade would be revisited and redecided. Heaven help us!
**By a majority vote of Israel's Parliament (Knesset), Israeli Supreme
Court rulings could and would be overturned. (And with each shift in
the ruling majority's composition, a fresh round of overturning could
and would begin).
When he was Infant Bob
Often had had to sob
For a freely shared cob…
As Grown-Up Wrangling Bob
Angrily yanked off knob
After a half paid job…
Now Climaxed Adult Bob
Would at friends spit a gob,
Each time he missed a mob
That folks attacked to rob,
The lot shutting their gob,
Since they’d dared forget Bob…
Same Bob at each level
His one guide: The Devil.
The clouds begin
off on the horizon shaping, taking form
images clutching at the season's evolution,
darkening grays once pure white scatterings,
slivers now full, blackening along the edge
of a clouded windswept dream sky,
restless winds stirring,
an awakening within
once hidden now in open view;
wrangling leaves from every tree
rattling the shingles on the rooftops
vibrato threats of the impending storm;
there's a cry, a waiing along the branches
a howling that shivers in the shaking
knocking entry at the windows and the doors;
abrupt wild tossing in its twists and turns
tumultuous spews of rain, lightning, thunder
echoes prelude to the distant storm.
A sinewy faith built rough cabins.
We were pleased to claim this land
for Jesus.
We raised cities that were bear free.
Everything soared;
later crime and meth rose even
higher.
Cracks appeared where a garish paint
had weathered the sky.
Plaster flamingos crumbled,
angelic limbs hung down
caught in ceiling fissures.
Pink plastic arrows littered concrete.
It was a Mall dream; it was our dream.
We began to order stuff
from worker ants in other countries.
Plaid went in and out of fashion,
Horseless cowboys kept up the long tradition
of truck wrangling.
Impedimenta impeded the improperly taught.
Log cabins transported themselves
to theme parks,
too little hope clogged casinos floors,
rage stalked the freeways.
God spoke to us,
urged us to fill storage units
with our long raked-over crap,
sad holy relics in duct taped boxes -
yet neatly piled
in a persnickety Midwest way.
Destiny favors a measure of intelligence
and we do have control of it
we should rename our path with benevolence
grip the handle with a tight fit
don't let loose for it is our fate we are handling
there are many places we can flow
but mostly appreciate we're not stranded wrangling
for it is the path we show
grasping at our flaws will engage us nowhere
realize we're all perfectly made
there's no limit to what we can do elsewhere
or wherever we have stayed
people can assist us along to find this
or they can be in the way
select that deal wisely without miss
and forever will never stray
Him a day-long star,
a cosmos circled his hips.
Done doubled up
as a short-order cook,
waltzed like a drag queen
yet he all man-child.
Older ladies curled
his hair, made him flex,
flutter slinky brows.
Thought he high-ranking
short changing, slick as sesame oil.
Thought he a cowboy
wrangling songs in a bad bar
until
one sweet thing
burgled his heart,
stomped his jazzy junk,
made him greasy
for her alone,
hitched him up,
wore his glitter in her hair -
and he not say one boo,
not one,
but moaned
‘yea baby.’
"FRAGMENTS AND CRUMBS OF LIFE, ALL THE LITTLE PIECES"
- John Ruskin, 1853
Sunlight gleams in fragmented rays
Phantoms flash in tormented ways
Memories drown my downcast mind
Fantasies make my eyes go blind
I cling to those little pieces
Hold on dear as heartbeat ceases
You and I walking down the road
Lost in each other's wrangling mode
Talking of love ever after
Mixed with our euphoric laughter
Who knew you would be gone so soon?
Leaving me lone under the moon
Tearful I look back in sorrow
Mourning for illusive morrow
All our love that ever matters
All our dreams and never afters
Thinking of you, walk to your grave
Fighting tears, I try to be brave
Hanging onto lingering crumbs
Reminders of love as it comes
Intimate moments that we shared
Discussions had, heart to heart bared
All these and more come to my mind
Cherished treasures you left behind
08.25.2020
For Constance La France's "All the little Pieces"
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