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Monthly Archives: December 2020

Poe’s Heckler

Loudmouth magpie of the sky,
Myna of Gehenna’s lie,
Scouting bold for fattening scraps.
Fights with rats the size of cats;
Jet-black wraith pick-pecks a bone,
Raven-like, its croaks intone.
Flicks a tilt, a questioning look?
Caw Caw Caw! replied the rook.

Limericist, 2007

 
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Posted by on December 31, 2020 in Poetry

 

Met You Today For Italian

Met you today for Italian
And tried to explain:
“If a equals b & c equals d
Then ab equals cd — logical…
isn’t it?”

Shouldn’t we
Bow down to this? Yet,

what if:
“a + b = c
Then c minus b equals a– ?
Ah yes, packaging everything
nicely.” I think I’ve got it

now!

So it follows: ??? (wait)
Red copulates with blue,
It must purple everything!?
Or black marry white,
Then has to be gray children!?

S0, So-So
Culture fenced,
Our linear conveyor-belt minds
produce robotic manikins.

History is
prejudiced shorthand symbols
tick-tickled with tired conceptual
boxes,

Aren’t we
heroes and zeros?
Negatives + positives = light + dark?
So, if a saint has sex with a sinner, does
A hybrid saint/sinner mutation plop out?

Not! Maybe?

Get out the books! The measures!
The tape! The Law! Your morality!
Hammurabi! The Code! God-damned Politics!
Whose? Yours?
Mine? What? Why?

Look at the instant replay! Goggle it!

Why are
These battles are never won?
Never settled – NEVER – Why?

Welp…

You have your book, I have mine.
You have your temple, Your practice,
Your tradition, Your elephant, Your cow,
Your crucifix, Your crescent moon, Your
Philosopher, Your Prophet, or maybe just

A Big
Nothing…

I have my lack of certainty,
My blessed skepticism…

My unknowing, but what if I have my tree?
And you, your sacred stone?
Or just questions? Sacred unholy
Questions?

4
Once I was a, and not b,
fudging a concrete c… 
& an unbending conclusion
knifed me eating
spaghetti

Limericist, 2008

 
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Posted by on December 31, 2020 in Poetry

 

Mincemeat Pie

i have no clear idea why
my Christmas must have
mincemeat pie

i really do not have a clue
why any poem
should flow from you?

your raisins, crust, and taste is all
that tempt my Christmas cakes
to fall

season’s scent of spicy bliss
though yesterday,
was hit or miss

four rabbits sit upon my ledge
reminding me to
keep my pledge

three trumpets of my winter flower
are drooping low
to spite my power

deep lines are furrowing my sight
no matter if
i rub them right

i dream of you, mincemeat pie
tis is the reason,
i must fly

Limericist, 2007

 
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Posted by on December 29, 2020 in Poetry

 

Circus Barker

Circus Barker

“Step right up. Step right up.
Ladies and Gents, Don’t jostle,
There is room for everyone to see. We have
A show for you. Yes, we do! Wouldn’t you
Like to see rare wonders from the
Exotic corners of the Earth? Step right up,
Behold the pandemic from the East bounding
From sea to shining sea. Its vampire bite
Will transform anyone into a bat-child. So
Look in wonder, terror, and horror – Parents
Cover the children’s eyes from this
Marvel of the unnatural. Mask your face
Wash your hands, and whatever you do,
Don’t touch anyone! Oh yes, concessions
Help us finance our show, so get your
Popcorn and candy from our daily
Sterilized vending machines. The kiddos
will just love to get our free pair of
Superhero rubber gloves.”

“Yes indeed, we have a show for you,
Something never been seen before.
Get your toilet-paper tickets before they
Run out. The cost is your job, livelihood,
And all your holiday family gatherings.
Boy, do we have a lock-down for you today!
Just watch those amazing stats climb. Maybe
You’re next? What? Did I hear someone say?
Your mask must’ve not worked? Well, you
Lapsed — We have our disclaimer,
So it’s all on you. What was that?
The tent is on fire? It’s what?”

Limericist 2020

 
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Posted by on December 29, 2020 in Poetry

 

Passengers

Passengers

I am a space traveler. I have tried to figure out how fast this satellite is moving. It boggles the mind. Earth travels several billion miles every year in its orbit around the sun. The sun and solar system travel through the galaxy at an almost inconceivable speed as well. There is more. The Milky Way travels through the universe with the other galaxies too. The universe travels too?

We are all travelers on a journey without end. The nature of energy is that it’s always on the move. The light within every atom is in vibratory motion. What scientists believe is that all matter is relative to light. In other words, everything is a form of energy. And, as I pointed out, it is moving.

If there is one thing that should unite us, it is this: We are all traveling into the Great Unknown. And, we all fear the journey to varying degrees. The fact is that everything travels. This movement means everything has the capacity to collide. Everything crashes sooner or later. None of us get off this flight alive. It’s universal law.

I’m a flight attendant among many passengers. I am a passenger too, of course. My purpose is to make others comfortable during their journey. While serving others, I am cared for too. We are all part of this universal process.

Even though I care for others, the most important trust I have is to care for myself. In fact, my care for others can only be as good as my care for me. This agrees with the idea of The Golden Rule. “Do to others what you would wish they would do for you.” Do I wish someone to help me? Then, help them. A question I want to explore is what I wish others would do toward me. As a fellow traveler, I come up with ideas of how I can assist others. This takes mindful consideration of my own wants and needs.

Interstellar travel is fun and exciting but also frightening. There is no getting off this ride alive. One could decide to take an early exit, but most of us will fly to our destination. One thing is for sure, it can be a bumpy and uncomfortable experience. Suffering is universal, though I am thankful I am not aware of it all the time. Suffering does not have to be miserable. Suffering is inevitable, while misery is optional. Misery is from a dramatic story I tag on to my allotted share of suffering. It makes suffering intolerable. Pain caused by unavoidable circumstances produces suffering. Though most suffering is inescapable, I believe we can overcome misery. It can be avoided altogether.

Misery results from resistance to suffering. It is remarkable for its psychological and emotional angst. It has a strangling effect on life. It is amplified by excessive worry and complaint. These are products of fear. The compounding effect anxiety has on pain accentuates misery. It is suffering squared. Maybe this is what FDR was getting at when he said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Fearing fear magnifies inevitable suffering into a bogey man of giant proportions. Fearing fear often kills faster than the killer.

So, the main discomfort on this flight is the fear of departure and arrival. As a flight attendant, I understand. I try to give comfort by making sure refreshments are always available along the way. I’m ready for whatever my fellow passengers may want or need. The only limit to this is my own self-care. I have to refresh myself first before I can help anyone else. I am not advocating crass selfishness, but rather a healthy self-interest. My attention to others is reflective of my own for me.

My job on this flight is to make the transition from departure to arrival easier. When there is turbulence, I try to allay fear and give comfort. I remind the passengers that the greatest Pilot is in control. There will be turbulence. I do not like it much either. It is what it is, and nothing more: turbulence. I encourage the passengers to fasten their seat belts. And, if necessary, brace for impact. I know it is coming. So do we all. We should all help each other get through this. Yet, whatever this is, I know one thing: A safe landing is ahead.

Limericist, 2012

 
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Posted by on December 28, 2020 in About Me, Essays, Memoir

 

The Christmas-Easter Tree

Who was Unborn,
was born ..

Who was up,
came down ..

Who hung the stars,
Hung on a Tree ..

Who tasted death,
Rose ..

Who was entombed,
Enthroned ..

Now ..

Who were losers,
Blessed ..

Who were dead,
Live ..

What was winter,
Spring ..

Who were tied,
Loosed ..

Who were blind,
See ..

Who were hopeless,
Frolic ..

Who were guilty,
Justified ..

Who were weak,
Powerful ..

Who were empty,
Filled ..

All by the act of One,
which no empty philosophy,
of humankind, or demon,
can reverse.

Unwrap the Gift
Under
The Christmas-Easter
                                   Tree

Limericist, 2007

 
 

Floods of Spiritual Joy

I came across this poem written by Charles H. Spurgeon (1890). It describes how the Spirit of God overwhelms a person who puts their trust in Jesus. It is a song of degrees, and builds as it goes. So is the spiritual life of intimacy with God.

All my soul was dry and dead
Till I learned that Jesus bled;
Bled and suffered in my place,
bearing sin in matchless grace.

Then a drop of Heavenly love
Fell upon me from above,
And by secret mystic art
Reached the center of my heart.

Glad the story I recount,
Lo that drop became a fount,
Bubbled up a living well,
Made my heart begin to swell.

All within my soul was praise,
Praise increasing all my days;
Praise which could not silent be:
Floods were struggling to be free.

More and more the waters grew,
Open wide the flood-gates flew,
leaping forth in streams of song,
Flowed my happy life along.

Lo! A river clear and sweet
Laved my glad, obedient feet!
Soon it rose up to my knees,
And I praised and prayed with ease.

Now my soul in praises swims.
Bathes in songs, and psalms, and hymns;
Plunges down into the deeps,
all her powers in worship steeps.

Hallelujah! O my Lord,
Torrents from my soul are poured!
I am carried clean away.
Praising, praising all the day.

In an ocean of delight
Praising God with all my might,
Self is drowned, so let it be
Only Christ remains to me

C.H Spurgeon, 1890

 
 

Rorschach USA

Glitzy gals bare 4 beads
shallow surface sex is sold
Emma gives in 20 minutes, $39.95 special
shake sensual silicone so seductive
having hungry horny holograms
organs of organic corn corgis
phony-baloney prawn ponies
slips slimy as the slits of slots
fornicating flesh finances fantasies
who hypnotize hollow hordes
giving grotesque gods, goddesses,
idyllic idols of idling idiots
fantastic phantasms fallacious
garish gala-glamor grins gross
burlesque bubba-button boys
superficial, artificial, commercial
pulling bling-bling polling poles
diamonds, cherries, and sevens, in a row
flash for finding free-fall cash-flow
seriously suckered, sadly insatiable
lustily longing 4
more

Limericist 2007

 
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Posted by on December 23, 2020 in Poetry

 

Fang

Blinding circumstance often plays the trickster:
Consider the hissing cobra – strikes lightening
at the mongoose who knows, dodges, – waits
for that first strike, then clutches the reptile
on the back of its head with rodent pin fangs.
Consider the animosity perpetuated by wars
started by trigger-happy little hot-heads
who jump the gun saying ‘bombs-away,’
Consider the heartache sired by words
spat out like venom before the mind
was fully engaged: Broken noses,
missing teeth, families shredded,
lives shipwrecked in bitterness.
Yes, circumstance combined
with hasty-minded hubris
will trick both of us to
jump quickly to many
wrong conclusions
we will surely
smart for
later

Limericist 2008

 
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Posted by on December 22, 2020 in Poetry

 

The Sin-Eater

Arm of the Lord revealed,
The Person of Grief,
Rejected, overlooked, hated,
Mocked, bullied, & blamed.

Born to be the Sin-Eater,
The Curse-Carrier who bore
all our sin, all our failure, All our penalty,
all sickness and death. 4 you, & 4 me,

By whose once-shredded flesh
healing now flows
to all who are willing to look
at the likeness of

The Poled-Serpent, & Live.
The Sacrifice-Lamb foretold;
foreshadowed with ancient ceremonies,
both Substitute, & Surety,

Humanity’s One Proxy.
He’s the Satisfaction that brings Peace,
Settled once and for all.
*Taste & see! &

Stake your claim, 4
The Transaction is already accomplished,
Unrepeatable, done, Paid for.
and this I know – because
He’s here. He’s Smiling at me.

by Limericist 2007

 
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Posted by on December 21, 2020 in Poetry