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Monthly Archives: February 2021

Had Another One of Those

Had a bad day
Unpaid bills on the desk
Kids demanding designer clothes
Toothaches without dental insurance
Partners who don’t want sex today,
Or most days, for that matter
Because they’re thinking
About the bills, the kids, the secret pregnancy
Taking out their frustration on who is closest
Rising heating bills during a February snap
Internet companies that overcharge
Because you didn’t know all the rules
Having to spend hours talking to incompetents
Who can’t really help at all

Today you were informed at work.
Your health benefit is now a co-pay,
That your life insurance was cut in half
Unless you pay a “small” amount each month
Sure, you got a raise last month
25 cents an hour
The new deductions, a dollar more an hour
You lose again and again and again.

Another dire day at hand
Every day wakes to the same routine.
Growing mountainous demands
Never fully satisfied.
Maxed out credit cards,
They won’t be paid off even when you’re 90
Started at zero interest, like crack-cocaine.
Every year their premiums double.
Sick days. Hard times.
Turn on the television.
Bought it on the card
Yes –gotta have a “smart” one now.

News of war, slimy politics, reality TV
All for ratings, to get you to buy more.
You may get satisfied, right?
But the harder you try, the backward you go.
Something has got to give–
Craniums are heating, pressurizing,
Relationships, strained, threadbare
Some loved ones will spin out of orbit.
They could not feel the love any more.
There should have been more support,
Understanding,
But, they missed it
Because
Had a bad day.

–Limericist 2008

 
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Posted by on February 28, 2021 in Poetry

 

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You Are a Masterpiece

Every one of us produces
at least one unparalleled masterpiece
in our lifetime,
but most of us never live long enough
to find out what it was.

–Limericist 2008

 
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Posted by on February 28, 2021 in Blurbs, Poetry

 

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Indoctrinated

The doctrine of the Manichees
turns soft neural tissues
to split-pea soup in hot skull bowls.

This teaching inspires
religious-political devotees
to love hatred and seek fake justice–

The doctrine requires
a Star Wars “Evil Empire.”
A grim villain who will lung-breathe
on hackled necks, fomenting the masses
into a mad frenzy.

They must eliminate
the demonized
until their angry faces
contort, multiply,
and convert warty

Nevertheless, here is a question:
If someone hates a hater,
are they a tater?
Is hatred the way to the light?
Not according to Obi-Wan.

They believe they are the enlightened,
the good-guys, right?
Alternatively, good-gals, bis, LGs –ad infinitum,
Being binary is old-hat. Non-binary is in style,
enforcing another binary dualism.
(Mani, be praised!)

Wanted:
*(Needed for their narrative-creating propaganda):
“Really really” bad actors, –or let’s
build them, theme them,
from the whole dark fabric
of a spun incanted rhetoric that
demands one over the other–
with no in-between, no mixture,
no mercy or forgiveness.

–no critical thinking allowed
because
it may disenfranchise someone–
the debate is forbidden
because
someone may have to admit
that they have acted like
hive-minded clones:

Then, Yoda
might embrace the dark side,
Darth may become a loving parent,
and Chuck may leave the Delta Force
to become a communist–

 
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Posted by on February 28, 2021 in Poetry

 

Wake the Woke

It is always easy
to think that we could
do better than our parents,
until we are one.

It is always easy
to think that we would
be kinder than others were
without knowing their struggle.

It is always easy
to accept current propaganda
as certainty
until we have
identified with another culture.

It is always easy
to condemn our historical figures
with 20/20 vision
from the safe distance
of their future.

It is not easy
for any of us to admit
that we have all failed too
in ugly hateful ways;

And that many of those before us
had stories that deserved
better than our arrogant know-it-all woeful rebuke.

But until we do,
we only prove the point.

 
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Posted by on February 27, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Traveling Mercies

The road ahead divides
into a many-headed hydra
with each long neck coiled
as if to strike imminent doom.
At the forks,
a knight atop his steed
weighs his journey.

Each path demands a decision
to navigate their circuitous route.
If any are to reach
their holy grail, they must
throw caution aside. To obtain
their desire,
their dream,
or their nightmare–
one must risk everything.

We have often set ourselves up
for our own destruction
hid in the guise
of some pleasurable goal,
only to discover the ill-fated quest
was to become our greatest folly.
Nevertheless, our many errors
are often overruled
by the grace
of an overshadowing providence.

One watches over us.
The destroyer loves to destroy,
but One cares to protect us.
May our Protector prevail!

Has grace, mercy, and forgiveness run dry?
Human to human, it may seem so,
but the compassionate Presence
is with those
who seek and dare.

 
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Posted by on February 26, 2021 in Poetry

 

His Shining

Handed down from unknown ages,
a secret locket carried from birth,
an inscribed angelic amulet
–barely noticeable, but
always with him

Its ancestral origin was unknown,
it dangled above the baby boy,
a spinning mobile before his wide eyes
watching and calling,
the boy cooed at it
and heard an ancient name then,
now, and to come

He rode his tricycle down a big hill,
a dump truck was there at the bottom
he could not stop the spinning pedals
with bare feet.
Around his neck, it rested on
the five-year-old’s heaving chest,
as he flew over his handlebars,
sinking deep into the searing hot asphalt.
Blood-curdling screeches, his aunt Helen ran
kicking off high heels to extract
his tarred, quivering body, covered
with blisters and 3rd degree
burns.
The locket was there too
soothing him, anointing him
with his secret name

A foolish young soldier raced
through the California desert
in a borrowed pickup truck.
So sure of himself, he gulped
another swig of tequila,
saw double,
and passed out.
The neglected childhood trinket
still suspended against his heart,
–it whispered his name again
as the lights spun wild and went out.
He woke hours later,
sprawled on the desert sand,
unharmed,
He remembered it calling
his name again and again
just before all went black.

Uncountable times it flashed
his real name at the edges of
his consciousness, a pet name
known and inscribed
on his shining,
only on his shining

His old gray head
could no longer remember.
His labored breathing
was not expected
to last till morning.
As he passed through the portal,
the silver cord snapped. He heard
his shining name called from the
other side.

.

.

Limericist 2007

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Tea Time

I am delighted to sit here with me,
at three,
enjoying a cheery cuppa tea.
My heart blissfully
allowing myself to be
with nothing to do
but dream
with steamy caffeine entering
my bloodstream
Just considering
how I came to this point
seeing
I am royalty
to sit here with myself singing free
but understand, please
it was not easy
I think
you would agree

If you, with me, would sip a cup of tea at three
I would tell you my story
and listen to yours
mutually,
and oh,
what mischievous glee
that would be.

.

Limericist 2010

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Obsequiousness Observed

The omega dog must kiss ass
of the alpha to get some scraps

sycophants subservient with sneers
grovel into position, fawning flatterers

obsequious opportunists, so prominent,
parasites preening the powerful

who, themselves, once tongued the alpha’s toads;
dough-faced actors with browned noses

lapdogs, yes-persons, in nose-deep smell-feasts
soapy smiling, servilely sniveling

skulk into the good graces
of those they deem rich enough to betray,

& finally overthrow—
though this word game began

with the word “obsequious,”
it is common
to observe this pejorative quality

in  many of our American
political players: those 

perverted media-stars
who forcibly procreate themselves

into the messy fabric
of global culture

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2021 in Poetry

 

Snap

Snowflakes drop a blanket
like Christmas at Easter.
Three vain Narcissus
Woo with their gold,
ice-encased.
Calendar demands
teeth
Tears with each snap.
Acidic stomach, head throbs,
last night’s wine.
Dreamt I could fly.
Felt so real.
Why wake up?
Morning report:
dead crow on the road
would not leave the kill.
Snow displacing sun,
a white lie;
birds sing, go away, go away,
sitting in my shorts
clock chimes noon.
Dentist time.

.

.

Limericist 2007

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2021 in Poetry

 

Physic

Seated still,
change is speeding up
now I see light
an alien grimaces back in my bathroom mirror
every day, I think I’ll capture my story
from the coasts
of personal and private,
woven points of light and dark
but still, I can not,
meantime, I AM
cycling a scrambler in and out
where no “here is me” can be determined,  
but a fanning multi-me

our ball travels
a billion-mile oval
around a gas giant
fusion-light succeeds us constantly
with unstable currencies.
The traditional
cannot sustain holding on
eject, or else
as
there is zip not
Milky Way

At lightspeed,
I remain frozen,
a snapshot of history
fixed coincident with nevermore.
Galileo and Newton were correct,
our satellite is clipping along
faster than any human-made rocket,
and I am obliged
to void.

.

.

Limericist 2007/2021

 
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Posted by on February 23, 2021 in Poetry

 

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