Poetry Here (Mostly)

Posts tagged ‘poem’


When sun and moon

cause her to glow

with proud devotion,

and even clouds

do not block the flow

of her emotion,

how many tears,

salt sad or glad,

which fall in tides

some low some high,

cry from the eyes

of Mother Ocean?

They Knew They Were Loved

Before murdered innocence,

before fear,

before hiding,

before blood,

before bodies,

before mourning,

before school that morning,

or soon before that morning,

parents gave children

affectionate advice

and probably kissed them.

Holiday Lemons

img_0975October lemons, green as limes
merry yellow by Christmas time.
Sizzles, drizzles, weatherproof,                                                                                                           brighten branches in sunny groups.

Reminds me of the Peanut’s tree
a kind of homely plant we see,
that beautified with decoration
becomes a source of admiration.

When nature’s ornaments turn ripe
juicy bulbs hang heavy and bright.
Leaves fasten stems like angel wings,
fragrant lemons dangle and swing.

Courting the Jury

Expert witnesses swear

they will testify true

even when paid to sway

and skew the jury’s view,

one way or the other.


Some persuade for the plaintiff,

others for the defense,

coffee gives me a lift,

information’s immense,

one way or the other.


Testimonies conceived

for expert deceptions,

planned to make us believe

and lead our perceptions,

one way or the other.


Evidence cumulates

case has lasted for weeks,

at finish verdict waits,

now, I twist in my seat,

one way or the other.

Haiku One and Two

sixty watts shine night
poem keeps writer awake
yawning words cuddle
cafe caffeinates
casual socializing
slow sips encouraged

A Kid Out West

While we play from morning until long after supper,

hotter than a million jalapenos, fire

keeps Dad away from home, he’s been gone all summer.

Fans whirl hot breezes, air blows cooler at the malls,

getting soaking wet is what we kids desire,

sick of kicking soccer balls, and those skateboard falls.

No one wants to drive us to a pool or the sea,

so, like Dad, I grab the hose and spray a shower;

we splash ourselves and fling mud to the sky and trees.

Mom sent friends home, ran my bath, rubber ducky floats.

I sink boats, melt soap that smells like Mom and flowers.

Bubbles gargle throat, hope my belly doesn’t bloat.

I’ll be in second grade, when we go back to school;

this year, I’ll do my work, and try not to be bad,

Mom will be glad, and I’ll be proud to see my Dad.

How Now Brown Cow

Now, no escape,

nowhere to go,

living or long dead,

nothing but Now.


Unborn, or toddling,

immature, ripe, preserved,

dying, future, past,

nothing but Now.


Memories, hopes,

regrets, longings,

news at eleven,

nothing but Now.

Much in common,

Now and God,

nothing without Now,

not even God.

Naturally Optimistic

High living sickens planet atmosphere,

ill winds blow, regular cycles disrupt;

whether or not to worry we debate.


Muscled politics pound the world’s mosaic,

mortars crumble under booted feet,

military maneuvers capture headlines.

But, at sunrise, birds still cheerfully warble

usual blue sky songs, and wild flowers riot

in demonstrations of compatible diversity.

Amazing industry, but can an ant refuse

to carry crumbs, or march for the colony?

May it choose not to satisfy a sadistic queen?

Carpenter ants ever decide boring wood

is boring? Do argentines long for Argentina?

Do only humans suffer such ideas?

Spiders begin work with a single line,

rhythm and meter weave across space,

silken instinct creates gossamer stanzas.

In my garden, positive actions bloom:

birds pleasantly call, ants tend to business,

and spiders spin hope into their poetry.

Old Movies

Sometimes before falling asleep in bed,
I tune in people who now are long dead,
glamorous actors from last century,
look stylish in dramas or comedy,
film noir, or high jinks of action frolic,
city bustle or somewhere bucolic.

Cinema loved a storybook romance,
feelings expressed in a well-rehearsed dance.
Entertainment sang on Hollywood lots,
before stars got cast into dark, final plots.
On home screens they shine without special effects,
computer zombies, or uncomfortable sex.

Lost and Found

Milwaukee, where did I leave my sweater?
Wished for it in Macinaw’s cool weather.
Yes, Minnesota, that’s his stray, black sock,
Albuquerque, use my tube of sunblock;
from nylon bag, eat fruit, read magazines.

We didn’t misplace the laptop or phones
glad to be back, but I miss my best comb.
His pillow stayed in bed in Chicago.
We had too darn much traveling cargo,
lost track as we journeyed from scene to scene.

But, didn’t lose each other, a big feat,
after four days in an Amtrak sleeper,
hours and hundreds of driven car miles,
always together, two weeks plus a while.
Now, with hotel soaps and lotions we teem.

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