Now this is a song
I think I might remember!
While combing discount
bins at the used record
shop, I marvel at
the artists, unknown, who did
not transition from
the seventy eight to the
forty five, to the
thirty three and one third, to
the CD, to live streaming!
Stacks and stacks of wax
and shellacs, and racks and racks
of vinyls in back!
While driving home this morning I came upon the scene of a vehicle accident. A young woman was sitting on the curb typing frantically into her iPhone, hastily composing an SMS, or email, or post, or twit, or whatever. My thought upon witnessing this was, “If it were me, I’d be composing a poem.” This is what leapt to mind:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Upon broken screen
composing poetry seems
one fine way to celebrate
continuing existence!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I guess the time has come to accept and respect my latent poetry geek!
Pfsssht of milk steaming,
Momentary quiescence,
Punctuates the lull.
Morning chaos fades,
noisy, excited, chatter
surrenders to the
quiet murmur of sedate,
intimate banter
shared, calmly, between old friends
over hot coffee or tea.
On sunny spring days,
what is more satisfying
than earnest labor;
effort invested for the
coming lazy summer days.
So like the ancient
Roots, twisted and gnarled
From a lifetime’s grip
Upon the rocky hillside,
Her mangled hands
Held firm the weak foundations
Of her family
Against the capricious storms
Of a callous universe.
Thunderheads pursue
As I drive into daunting
New enlightenment
I offer apologies in advance. I was playing with iambic and rhyme scheme for this sonnet. I wanted something less fluid than ABAB CDCD EFEF GG.
This is definitely not fluid but it may be too syncopated for what I was after. You be the judge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes it seems that my profession
Serves no purpose, much, beyond
Providing ample lyric fodder
For my poetic avocation.
Why not sit, in comfort, ‘neath
The shade of verdant green palm frond,
Sip a drink, and idly ponder
The depth of snow on distant Heath?
Would fate differ one iota
If I drowned in some dark pond?
These are the thoughts I often wonder,
At month’s end when seeking quota.
But, for now, I’ll keep on wading
Into battle for those worth aiding.
I’d really rather
Eat a Carnita,
But I bet I’d better
Take a Steak!
Man! You really don’t belong here!
Don’t take me wrong, or think me mean,
But you’re about as helpful as
A place kicker on a baseball team!
** written is commiseration for an old friend and his experiences in applying for much needed assistance. Some kind of help is the kind of help we all can do without!
Four-legged, fur clad,
personification of
uniform positive regard!
Necessity trumps
Pride for the teenager, wise.
Six foot four, two ten,
trying to stay dry
in this spring downpour beneath
His baby sister’s
Colorful umbrella… Or
He’s chock full of Brony Pride!
Inconceivable
That people pay good money
To sit in darkness
Engrossed in the terror
Portayed upon
The silver screen yet eschew
The light of midday,
Paralyzed with terror
That others might see
The laugh lines and sags of a
Lifetime celebrating joy.
Aroil in Pain 