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Monthly Archives: January 2021

Royal

a boy and girl played
under cotton clouds & blue sky–
felt so good to run wild,
to yell unrestrained,
to make-believe.
a grassy rise was
a mountain climb,
& they’d both bound up
that high place to be
King, or Queen
of the mountain
while the other tried
tickling to usurp–
It was tremendous fun
as long as the royalty
didn’t swell the head
of the one who wore
the daisy-chain crown

 

Limericist 2007

 
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Posted by on January 31, 2021 in Poetry

 

The Limericks of Brian

A limericist named Brian,
tends to think his thoughts in rhyme
thoughts occupy him
trying to rhyme
no time for a rhymer like Brian

Brian should get help, many say
for therapy, Brian won’t pay
some suggested a shrink
to help him un-kink
but he thinks his kinks are okay

Limericks have gotten a bad wrap
they represent a cultural gap
offensive they are
to make you har-har
but many forget how to laugh

There was a limerick-minded buffoon,
who resembled a thoughtful baboon
with chin in his hand
he’d do a head-stand
it’s how with himself he’d commune

*

Limericist 2021

 
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Posted by on January 30, 2021 in Poetry

 

Already Written

The aged book filled with leaves turns to unveil a man, Atlas-like – bowed, broken, & torture racked on a wooden frame. In the book, crushed down and up again.

Millions say the words live. Entertain, and watch stony hearts become flesh. Others blame. And this way, remain the same: habitations of corpses. Who, rather than listen, rage. Saying the book’s aim is insane. Thus, death’s reign is their only domain.

They are like cheeky poems that said, “our poet is mad; kill him!” The master poet’s words became bloody tears weeping for these, his uncompleted works. Yes, it’s already written in the book, all there, between the eloquent leaves leafed with gold.

*

Limericist, 2008

 
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Posted by on January 25, 2021 in Poetry

 

Thud

questions thud
the edges of my mind
when upon
an undecided whirligig
sparrow met
a glass, and pop–

but why should today
vacate its place?
The wee one’s right to be?
thump, & feathers
lay twitching in death’s mort
nevermore to hop, play, sing,
to flutter-ride a breeze

because a fatassed realm smashed
against its frail twigged frame
& claimed
a broader right to exist?

it’s said
if only one of these tiny dancers fell,
the creator’s eyes shed a tear–
did I?

sorrow its puny scream
in that snappish impact?
a point of history
written in force, hushed,
reckless, and blase.

judge how sudden
ambush may strike.

Will thwack mean
anything loftier than
dung on the street?

*

Limericist, 2008

 
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Posted by on January 25, 2021 in Poetry

 

Home

I lost the trail I was on
can I return, or is it gone?
must I blaze a newer one?
I run and run and run.

the ax-head fell into the swamp
because I strayed far from the camp
and now I see myself a tramp
the handle slipped my grip.

thorn trees gore me bloody red
black clouds break upon my head
a cardboard box is now my bed
I stink. I need a change.

I spin and spin, but backward go
I try to swim but sink below
a loser fills my tattered shoes
until I go back home.

*

Limericist, 2008/2021

 
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Posted by on January 25, 2021 in Poetry

 

Waked

When Captain McFee
slapped his knee
and the men lined up for a beer
you could tell who’d kissed
the Blarney Stone
by how they’d fill your ear

and though the tales
were but half true
and shaggy ones were bred
from withered eyes
flowed many a tear
“did you hear poor Ned was dead?”

or that Kilkenny’s daughter
run off with some pirate lad
and this tragedy had happened
Before the dowry had?

but my favorite yarn remembered
told of the Kelly family wake
of how Tom Kelly wakened
from a drunken nap, he’d take

that night he tied on a big one
and was the last one from the pub
he’d passed out near some garbage cans
like he croaked, struck by a club

So they dragged him to O’Malley’s
the mortician of the town
but O’Malley was a little tanked
and his judgment wasn’t sound

he prepared old Tom for burial
in the quaint old Irish way
by pouring in more whiskey
Tom’s kin would have to pay

The people came from all around
to mourn Tom’s sad demise
but after several hours
Tom Kelly did arise!

“its a miracle!” they all shouted
the priest fell in a faint
and now the church is considering
to make old Tom a saint

so the fellowship of believers
is growing day by day
it’s why the captain slapped his knee
and for another round, did pay

*

Limericist, 2008

 
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Posted by on January 24, 2021 in Poetry

 

Assu&me

I should not assume to know your pain
but I have.
Foolish is the thoughtless brain,
speaking with a selfish aim.
I hurt and harm again.

Disconnectedness, your hiding place
but I prod.
Encroachment twists an angry face.
Annoyance shows a lack of grace.
We both demand our space.

Communication, a two-way street,
so listen first.
Maybe eye to eye can meet.
Dialogue with no conceit,
or wrangle and repeat.

Assumptions are the cause of strife.
Let them go.
Don’t feed your right to fight.
It’s the way to get you knifed
self-sabotaged by spite.

*

Limericist, 2021

 
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Posted by on January 22, 2021 in Poetry

 

Moonlit Muse

Resting free beneath the moon,
a gnarled wood-sprite muse
draws strength from those deep lunar wells
its thoughts itself imbues.

The river under drifts and sings
its flow with gazed delight,
the circle of created things
all bask in lunar-light.

The trees, the flowers, the sky, the moon
all joined with mystic haze,
and this, the ancient forest tune
is what its soul obeys.

*

Limericist, 2007

 
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Posted by on January 21, 2021 in Poetry

 

Earth Child’s Prayer

Earth Child’s Prayer

Great Spirit, you fill all earth and sky with your presence.
We are your offspring, whom you produced for yourself.
You are Mother and Father to us.
We are only happy when we know ourselves to be your dear children here on earth.
You are being thanked, more and more, by those who have eyes to perceive and ears to understand.
Let your greatness enlighten the eyes of your people.
Let your children regard you, even as the eagle obeys the wind so it can ride the heavens.

Allow us a prosperous hunt today, so we may have sufficient supply for our children, old ones, and dogs.
Look on us with a Mother’s pity, because like obstinate children, we all err. We will also extend your compassion to all other fellow creatures.
Deter us from risking harmful trails, for we depend on you as our wise guide.
You are our friend to shield us from the rattlesnake, the bear, and the warrior.
We do not accuse these of the wicked spirits that misuse their bodies to injure us.
Set us free from the influence of their evil mischief.

Great Spirit, though we may not comprehend why many things happen, we know you are in loving control of everything we encounter. We, your earth children, put our full confidence in you, and thank you now. Amen

*

Limericist, 2007/2021

 
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Posted by on January 19, 2021 in Poetry

 

Prismatic

Sparkle-prisms paint my room
the plus-sign of the Cross.
Crystal enthrones my window’s sill
minding of gain & loss.
Yes, the fussers fuss their fuss.
Lost, but I
trust.

.

Limericist, 2015/2021

 
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Posted by on January 15, 2021 in Poetry