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P L Ritz Poem
Homonymic flares.
Spelling not quite write.
Conjunctions in dysfunction.
Grammer outta site.
Synonymic pairs.
Rhyming that's adverse
To silver oranges with compunction.
Timing never worse.
All literation as a smile to me.
I pine to pen a pun.
As like a poet I can bee
Buzzing beneath the clouds, oops, sun.
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
Wondrous, thunderous Agawa Bay,
Sacred for generations on the north of the lake.
"Keep your hands in the boat Noodwin (Little Wind)."
Say I.
"Why Indede (My Father)?" (from Noodwin).
"Mishibijiw(Underwater Panther) will take you down,
to the caves beneath the waves."
Say I.
"Does Mishibijiw have the body of Cougar,
And the tail of Rattlesnake,
with spikes up and down his back Indede?" (from Noodwin).
"Why yes my Noodwin, How do you know this?"
Say I.
"I see Mishibijiw, and he is calling for me from the cold water of Gichigami,
and I feel I must go Indede" (from Noodwin).
"No! Resist my Noodwin! Mishibijiw called Gimishoomis (Your Grandfather)
so many many years ago. The waves brought him to Mishibijiw,
and we saw him no more".
Say I.
"Mishibijiw wants tribute for allowing you Namekaa (Many Sturgeon).
Once Gimishoomis, and now I, Noodwin, as tribute as you failed to bring
tribute during the time of Namekaa" (from Noodwin).
"I have and will give tribute! Tobacco and copper and rice!"
Say I.
And Mishibijiw arose from the cold water, angry, demanding tribute.
And Indede looked him in his eyes, black, staring stongly back.
And Mishibijiw broke the gaze first.
"Will you accept my tribute and leave my Noodwin?"
Say I.
"He will accept, as your gaze was stronger than his" (from Noodwin).
And the tribute was scattered between the waves.
"Indede will keep his Noodwin."
Say I
All is said in the red ochre pictographs
On the cliff by the sacred bay.
March 29 2017
For "A Mythical Creature" Contest
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
There's a mosquito
Drinking from my mojito.
The Sun has risen.
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
Pitchers pitching. Catchers catching.
Balls are in the air.
The smack of leather, bonding together.
A spring time love affair
Coaches coaching. Trainers training.
Stylish Unis, socks and hats.
Gatorades, fresh cut grass blades.
Soon hitters with big bats.
Fans are fanning, Radar guns scanning.
Baseball careers are born there.
Raise a beer. Praise The Jays and cheer
Springs just around the corner.
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
You hypocrite! You selfish twit.
You only exist as a counterfeit
to your ancestors dreams. You are unfit.
So you are here. You whip up fear.
You can't resist the odd sneer or a jeer
At those you would rather make disappear.
Their loss is huge. They need refuge.
But when you're asked to help with the deluge
You do your impersonation of Scrooge.
You go to church, a front pew perch.
But if you did just a little research
You'd see God would not leave them in the lurch.
New arrivals, whose survival
Brings out those instincts so vile and tribal.
Maybe you should go reread that bible.
Not the same God? Your logic's flawed.
You are being exposed now as a fraud.
People are people, even from abroad.
Change your thinking. Boats are sinking.
Give to them your charity, unblinking.
This once big world continues it's shrinking.
April 17 2017
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
THE WATCHERS
You're staring into your computer screen.
Who's staring back at you sight unseen?
You're scrolling texts on your data phone.
Do you think you're really scrolling alone?
That Sunday drive in your brand new car.
Are you lost? Someone knows where you are.
Took the toll road? You were running late?
Someone has a picture of your plate.
Blowing your nose down at the mall?
The security room monitor saw it all.
Thought you could skinny dip down at the pool?
Pictures on Facebook seem to be the rule.
Watching the game on your Smart TV?
The CIA are in on your after party.
Oh to go back to a simpler time,
When I used a book to find a rhyme.
Mar 12 2017
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
A hug when we meet
That fills me with such pleasure.
Softly lingering.
Why are you feeling so good?
Can't you see that I'm busy?
A kiss in my dream
Bringing me sweet thoughts of her.
I wake up smiling.
We never kiss anymore.
You talk in your sleep a lot!
The scent of perfume
of the most expensive kind.
Deep crimson lipstick.
What in the world is that smell?
And what's that on your collar?
July 01 2017
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
There's something I can't figure out.
It's divisive, if I may.
A never-ending question about
Why today is called Pie day.
I won't mince words, I cannot lie
Crusty as I may feel
I've always enjoyed a piece of pie
A nice addition to a meal.
But why celebrate in March today?
Pie is eaten all year long
A circular dish, a tart, flan, souffle.
Or have I the answer wrong?
Some other meaning must lie beneath
Oh well. Happy March fourteenth.
3.14.2017
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
Hungry for sure
We sat on our seats.
Hungry we were
For 'Cat In The Hat' eats.
Sally and I
And our fish on a date,
Wondering why
Such a long wait,wait,wait.
We were hungry and late
And the wait we did hate.
But after a while
Our waiter did appear,
With laughter and a smile
And an eye straight and clear.
He asked dry and droll,
"What can I get you today?
Shark fin soup in a bowl?
The catch of the day?
A nice fish fillet?"
But the fish turned bright red,
"I know what you're doing!
With my tiny fish head
You are screw, screw, screw screwing!"
We ordered pulled pork,
The fish wanted flakes
The waiter went to work
But he made some mistakes.
He brought back two big dishes.
Both seemed alive.
A great plate of squirmy Squishes,
and a pot of endive.
The great plate not so great.
A lot in the pot is what we got.
With a bang bang clang clang
And a lion-like roar,
He rang out and sang,
"Here's two meals you'll adore!"
But both sets of dishes, all the squirmy Squishes
And endive not asked for, ended up on the floor.
The fish said "Let's fly without a good-bye.
This waiter is nuts, no ifs ands or buts".
Then our waiter returned to the room
with a broom,
And started to sweep
With a zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom.
And he cleaned up the Squishes,
Cleared up the endive.
With a couple of swishes
And a juke and a jive.
"I'm sorry for this.
I'm sorry for that.
I'm sorry the Squishes went down with a splat"
Said the waiter who worked at The Cat In The Hat.
"I'll full up your fork, you can trust me.
I'll go pull your pork, and flick flakes for fishy".
The meal tasted good.
As good as it could.
And we heavily tipped
Like we should, should, should, should.
Someday we'll return.
One thing we did learn,
A good place to eat at?
'The Cat In The Hat'!
March 18 2017
Submitted to the 'I need a cup of Seuss' Poetry Contest
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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P L Ritz Poem
Just one short portage and the park is ours,
Canoe laden down for a one week stay.
At the site in just a matter of hours.
It has been too long since we got away.
The next morning calm, with a touch of fog.
Sitting on the bank, the sunshine a plus.
Deep croaks emitted by an old bullfrog
Echoing back from the cliff behind us.
Five-Lined Skinks running across the rock,
Endangered now, once so commonplace.
Yodeling Loons with their morning pep talk.
Chipmunks scurrying at a nutty pace.
Pour-over coffee perfuming the camp,
The sizzle of bacon beckoning all.
Maybe we'll paddle once it's not so damp
Or just laze around until it's nightfall.
And when the day dims and darkness is king
We'll look up to see that old Milky Way,
Shooting stars, and the moon on it's upswing,
Preparing the skies for a brand new day.
The fireflies flitting freely in the bush.
Raccoon eyes reflected by the campfire.
The occasional mosquito ambush.
That's when you know it's time to retire.
And tomorrow perhaps, when we arise,
We'll launch the canoes, go out and explore.
Pulling back the veil on natures disguise
Or sit in the tent and let the rain pour.
Copyright © P L Ritz | Year Posted 2017
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