Tag: poetry

  • Howling at the Moon

    Howling at the Moon

    Howling at the Moon

     

    Lunatics Howling at the Moon Madness PoemsH

    Howling at the Pink Super Moon

    Howling at the Pink Super Moon

    Howling at the Blood Moon

    howling at the moon

    Here is an updated list of my Howling at the Moon poems, published on the wolf moon night.

    Index

    Howling at the Full Wolf Moon

    Howling at the Moon Tanka

    Secret Werewolf

    Howling at the Blood Moon

    On a Moonlit late-night
    Howling at the Moon

    Lunatic howling at the moon

    One Crazy Moonlit Night

    Full Moon Lunacy

    The Pink Moon Inspires Lunacy

    Howling with the dancing moon

    The Pink Super Moon

    Wolves howling at the moon

    Woman Howling At The Moon

    Maria Lee Off Balanced Madness

    Moonbeam

    Articles

     

    Howling at the Full Wolf Moon

    Sam Adams

    went out drinking one night
    ending up twenty drinks too sober

    as the last call for alcohol rang
    he looked up and saw

    the lunatic light of the full moon
    moonbeams beaming at him

    he runs outside

    howling at the moon

    dying

    When a drunk driver

    ran him over.

     

    Howling at the Wolf Moon Rising Over the Chao Praya River

    As evening set in

    On a typical Friday night

    In Bangkok.

     

    The denizens

    of the cosmos bar

    In Soi Cowboy.

     

     

    A motley crew

    from all over

    The world, and locals too.

     

    Lust  the common

    International language.

     

    Began drinking

    With their buddies.

    the notorious

    Jack Daniels Gang

     

    Drinking with Mr. Daniels and his friends

    Jim Baker, Jim Beam,  Mr. Blanton

    Mr. Booker, Elijah Craig, Jack Daniels

    George Dickel, Thomas H. Handy, Basil Haydens

    Henry McKenna, Old Mr. Forester, Mr. Jameson

    Mr. Nester, David Nichols, Benjamin Prichard,

    George T. Stagg, Colonel E.H. Taylor, Johny Walker,

    Evans Williams, W.L. Weller, Pappy Van Winkle,

    and his Old Grand Dad.

     

    Drinking one scotch, one bourbon, and one beer.

     

    As the destroyers

    Sang on the loudspeakers

    And porno played on the TV.

     

    And naked women danced

    With an attitude

    That could kill

    An elephant in heat.

     

    The woman

    circling the bar

    Looking

    for their eventual dates.

     

    The scent of bad craziness

    Hung in the air.

     

    The wolf moon rose

    In the sky

    Over the Chao Praya River.

     

    Casting its lunatic light

    On the never-sleeping

    City of lost angels.

     

    The drinkers

    20 drinks too sober

    Ran out into the street.

     

    The lunatic light

    Of the full wolf moon

    Transforming them

    Into deranged lunatics.

     

    They began

    Howling at the moon.

     

    Like escaped banshees

    Freed from their alyssum

    In hell.

     

    They howled at the moon

    As the moon continued

    To overwhelm

    The howling lunatics.

     

    Howling At Wolf Moon Nocturna

    Pink Moon

    Drinkers in the Cosmos Bar,

    Twenty drinks too sober,

    Staring at the lunar star,

    Rising over the river.

    On that night in October.

    Running outside looking upriver,

    Howling at the full wolf moon.

    No longer stone-sober,

    Will be very drunk soon.

    Basset Puppy Howling At The Moon

    In the late afternoon shadow
    the red sunset darkening the sky
    the basset hound puppy.
    .
    Stirs and gets up
    hearing the distant sounds
    of the train in the distance.

    Scenting bad craziness

    in the air
    The dog begins

    to howl in the night.

    Howling as the moon rises
    casting its lunatic light
    on the mad scene.

    Deranged lunatic dog
    inspired to howl

    When he sees
    The super blue moon

    The Pink Super Moon Tanka

    More Pink Moon
    More Pink Moon

    The pink super moon
    casts a cold baleful glow
    over the sleeping world
    inspiring the drunken men
    to howl at the moon

    Drunken Old Man Howling At The Moon

    lovers in the moon light
    lovers in the moon light

    A drunken old man down on his luck
    was drinking in a nameless bar
    in a disreputable, forgotten part of town
    where decent citizens, and police feared to tread.

    Twenty drinks too sober
    he was drinking his way to hell
    surrounded by his fellow low-life bums
    outlaw scoundrels one and all

    he looked outside
    transfixed by the full moon
    the lunatic light of the

    Blood red super moon
    inspired him compelled him

    he stood up and growled
    and ran out into the street
    and started howling
    at the full moon

    the other denizens of the bar
    the derelicts, drunken bums, barflies
    rushed out and joined him
    in howling at the moon

    went back inside
    and continued to drink
    their way to hell.

    Howling At The Full Moon In Bangkok

    Another Pink Moon

    Sam Adams was feeling blue, down on his luck. He went to his favorite watering hole, the CosmosBar in Soi Cowboy, Bangkok, and began drinking with his buddies, the notorious Jack Daniels Gang.

    Drinking with Mr. Daniels and his friends, Jim Baker, Jim Beam,  Mr. Blanton

    Mr. Booker, Elijah Craig, Jack Daniels, George Dickel, Thomas H. Handy, Basil Haydens, Henry McKenna, Old Mr. Forester, Mr. Jameson, Mr. Nester, David Nichols, Benjamin Prichard, George T. Stagg, Colonel E.H. Taylor, Johny Walker, Evans Williams,  W.L. Weller, Pappy Van Winkle, and his Old Grand Dad.

    Drinking one scotch, one bourbon, and one beer.

    Drinking it all down, barely noticing the naked ladies dancing on the stage. Kuhn Lek smiled sadly at him, knowing that there was nothing that would change his mood. He kept drinking until, at last, he was twenty drinks too sober. Then he ordered fried fish Thai style for his midnight dinner.

    He looked up and out at the street, noticing the full moon outside. The full moon shed its lunatic light on the streets of Bangkok.

    Sam Adams stood up, and said,

    The moon is full tonight. Let’s go out and howl at the moon. “

    He ran outside onto the road, stripping naked and dancing, waving a feather, as he howled like an escaped banshee at the dancing moon. Inspiring others to join him in howling at the moon. He ran down the street and was run over by a drunk bus driver, ending his life as the moon continued to shine on the mad scene.

    Moon over July

    Pink Moon
    Pink Moon

    In the middle
    of the summer
    in July,

     

    midsummer madness
    outside under the stars
    the storm is abating.

    The full moon comes out
    The lunatic runs outside

    Howling at the

    strawberry moon.

     

    Big Daddy Howls at the Moon

    full moon

    Big daddy was talking
    to his best friend

    Sam Adams

    in the Cosmos Bar
    in Bangkok, Thailand.

    “Sit down and listen
    to me.

    God,
    I wish I had

    My yarn and needles with me
    that’s my latest hobby
    helps me focus.

    In the end
    it is all about money
    it is all about the benjamin’s
    nothing personal at all.

    Hey, there is cool water in a jar
    let’s drink some water
    and a shot of Mekong whiskey
    it is cocktail time, my friend”.

    And as usual
    they drank through the night
    until o dark hundred.
    Twenty drinks too sober.

    When they joined
    their fellow inmates
    in their insane asylum
    of a bar.

    In going outside
    howling like escaped banshees
    at the strawberry super full moon
    shining its lunatic lights
    over the Chao Praya river.

     

    Blame It On The Moon

    “Blame it on the moon.”

    That is what

    Sam Adams said
    to the police
    after they picked him up

    leading a pack of rabid

    “farang”

    men and woman
    running naked down the street.

    They had met in front
    of the infamous Cosmos Bar
    in notorious Bangkok
    at o dark hundred.

    They were heading

    to the riverbank
    when the police arrested them,
    for disturbing the peace.

    They were all incoherent
    just staring at the blood-red
    full moon overlooking
    the Chao Phraya river.

    Looking like escaped banshees
    howling at the lunatic lights
    of the full super blue moon.

    The cops laughed
    saying on full moon nights
    they had a lot of such incidents

     

    And they always,

    ‘blame it on the moon.”

    just a deranged lunatic werewolf howling at the moon

    blood moon
    Photo by Nishant Vyas on Pexels.com

    As the lunatic light

    of the blood-red moon
    the super blue moon

     

    lights up the night
    the werewolf stirs
    as the light shines on him

    slowly transforming him
    into a dark dangerous creature
    of the lunatic night
    ready for his flight

    out into the world,
    he emerges

    snarling
    howling at the moon

    just another unhinged
    werewolf
    out for blood today
    howling at the moon

    The Moon Always Inspires Dark Thoughts ©

    On the night of the blood-red super full moon
    I sat in an evil, depraved, godforsaken bar

    drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew
    washed down by endless rounds of whiskey
    rum, tequila, vodka, soju, and of course beer
    drinking with my buddies, the Jack Daniel’s gang

    drinking my way to hell and beyond
    just as fast as I could
    Twenty damn drinks too sober

    just an unhinged lunatic
    dreaming of howling

    at the full moon

    End Of The World Full Moon

    Sun and moon conspire

     

    End of the world
    the sun and moon conspire
    death to all humans

    madman howling at the super blue full wolf moon

    Werewolf Howling At The Super Blue Full Moon

    the super blue full wolf moon
    fills the sky
    with its baleful evil glow
    and a man fell under its evil glare.

    the evil super blue full wolf moon
    brings out the beast in him
    and he sheds his civilized veneer
    the inner werewolf coming out.

    sniffing the air
    smiling saying this is good
    and begins running
    down the trail.

    howling at the moon
    at the super blue full wolf moon
    as it stares down at him
    urging him to worship her.

    the mad mood goddess
    who lives on the moon?
    Diana commands him
    compels him.

    and he gives in
    howling like an escaped banshee
    escaped from his lair in hell
    howling like the werewolf he was

    he strips off his clothes
    and run deep into the mountains

    Howling insanely
    driven mad
    by the baleful evil light

    Of the super blue full wolf moon
    and gives in and becomes once again
    a werewolf consumed by the moon

    the super full blue wolf moon
    smiles at her victory
    and the man joins Diana,
    in saluting his mistress

    Diana the moon goddess
    who lives on the moon?
    And comes out once a year
    on the super full blue world moon

    In honor of the super blue full wolf moon © j

     

    Madman howling at the super blue full wolf moon

     

     on the night of a blood-red wolf moon 

    On the night of a blood-red wolf moon
    a man stood outside
    between the trees
    in a field
    on the outside of town

    beneath the lunatic rays
    of the blood-red full moon
    the lunatic lights of the moon
    casts a wild primeval glow
    on him

    the hormonal chemicals are unleashed
    the wild beast within
    escapes it chain

    and he howls with delight
    a werewolf
    free at last

    to run amuck
    free of its civilized restraints
    throwing off his clothes
    stripping naked

    running wild
    naked and free
    a wild man
    enjoying his freedom

    as he sits
    under the lunatic light of the full moon
    of the blood-red lights of the wolf moon
    full of wild passions
    the lustful beast stirs again

    and starts running and running
    howling at the moon
    riding into the new dawn
    on a demented harvey davis cycle
    with two naked babes on his back

    riding into the sun
    90 miles per second
    at the speed of thought
    he disappears into the lunatic light
    of the full moon

    and he woke ups
    alone,
    in his bed
    saying,”

    man, that was quite a night
    i better not go there again”

    the wildman
    laughs
    he has heard that before

    and he joins him
    in howling at the wolf moon

     

    Howling At The Moon Co-Pilot AI Version

     

    I hear a distant howl

    A lonely voice in the night

    Calling out to the moon

    Seeking its silver light.

     

    I feel a primal urge

    A restless fire in my soul

    Breaking free from the cage

    Running wild and whole.

     

    I join the chorus of howls

    A symphony of the dark

    Echoing through the woods

    Reaching for the moon’s spark.

     

    We are the children of the moon

    We live by its phases and tides

    We howl at the moon

    We are its guides.

     

    Lunatics On The Loose

     

    Ravings of a demented deranged

    Unhinged mind

    Fill my head

    And I run

     

    Through the streets

    Screaming

    Running from the unleashed

    Demons of my sleep

     

    Howling at the deranged light

    Of the wolf Moon

     

    Just another lunatic

    On the loose

     

    Moonbeam

    Sam Adams

    went out drinking one night
    ending up twenty drinks too sober

    as the last call for alcohol rang
    he looked up and saw

    the lunatic light of the full moon
    moonbeams beaming at him

    he runs outside

    howling at the moon

    dying

    When a drunk driver

    ran him over.

     

     

     

    Here are some articles on the deeper significance of the blood moon according to right right christian sources.

     

    Why christian pastors fear-january-blood-moon

    Https://www.express.co.uk/news/weird/1052287/blood-moon-2019-lunar-eclipse-end-of-world-impending-doom-world-bible-prophecy

    Blood moon coming what you need to know

     

    Substack

    Medium

    Wattpad

    Spotify

    The End

     

  • April 2025 Poetry Madness Part Four April 19 to April 25

    April 2025 Poetry Madness Part Four April 19 to April 25

    April 2025 Poetry Madness Part Four April 19 to April 25

    audio clip

    You can find my prior April Poems here:

    April 2025 Poetry Madness April 13 to April 18 Poems

    2025 April Poetry Madness Part Two April 6 to April 12

    April 2025 Poetry Madness Part One

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems
    April Poetry Madness April 21 to APril 25 Poems
    April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems
    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14
    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    PSH April 2023 Poems
    April 20-30 2023 Poems Do Drop In
    April 2023 Poetry Dew Drop In April 11-15
    Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

    April 2023 Dew Drop In Poems
    April 30th, 2022 Poems
    April 29th Poems
    April 26th and April 27th, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems
    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems

    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems</a >

    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems
    April 16 and 17, 2022 Poems

    Enjoy and stay safe, everyone

    Beginning Poems 

    Day 19

    NaPoWrMo

    Deportation Blues Bop

    Every day, we hear the news

    People being pulled off the street

    Accused of being illegal alien gang members

    Sometimes just for having a tattoo

    Then they disappear to god knows where.

    They could come for you next

     

    But people think it is not my problem

    I am not an illegal alien

    I was born in the us

    They cannot come for me

    But in the logic of authoritarian regimes

    Everyone becomes  a  suspect

    And you or your family can be detained

    They could come for you next

     

    But, I still have hope

    That enough people  will say

    Enough, no mas

    Stand up and end this madness

    But perhaps, it is game over already

    They could come for you next

     

    April 19  The Bop. Three stanzas and three refrains, developed by Afa Michael Weaver.

    Here are the basic rules for The Bop:

    • 3 stanzas
    • Each stanza is followed by a refrain
    • First stanza is 6 lines long and presents a problem
    • Second stanza is 8 lines long and explores or expands the problem
    • Third stanza is 6 lines long and either presents a solution or documents the failed attempt to resolve the problem

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 19

    Coffee Pot Blues

    Coffee

    Pot blues

    Pot hates coffee

     

    Morning

    Many demands

    Too much coffee

     

    Pot

    Screams out

    Stop drinking me

     

    Humans

    Don’t care

    Brew more coffee

     

    Coffee

    Pot complies

    Must make coffee

     

    Coffee

    Must obey

    His Buddha nature

     

    Whew! Let’s keep those pens, pencils, keyboards, touchscreens, notes apps, etc., poeming away.

    For today’s prompt, write a persona poem. A persona poem is when you write in the voice of another person, real or imaginary. So maybe a sonnet in the voice of Mickey Mouse, or a stance narrated by the Wright Brothers (yes, both of them), or a haiku from the perspective of Amelia Earhart. And yes, inanimate objects are fair game too (if you want to craft some free verse in the voice of a toothbrush). Have at it!

     

    ——————————————————————————————————

     

    Hay(na)ku is a very simple poetic form, and it’s also one of the newest. It was apparently created in 2003 by poet Eileen Tabios.

    Hay(na)ku is a 3-line poem with one word in the first line, two words in the second, and three in the third. There are no restrictions beyond this.

    A really basic example:

    Boys
    chase girls
    on the playground.

    There are already some variations of this new poetic form. For instance, a reverse hay(na)ku has lines of three, two, and one word(s) for lines one, two, and three, respectively. Also, multiple hay(na)ku can be chained together to form longer poems.

    PSH April 19, 2025

     

    Really, Whom Am I, really ?

     

    Really, whom am I, really?

    Everyone knows who we are

    Lies we tell ourselves

    Lies that define us

    All that we are

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Ellen Sander:

    1. Spell your surname backwards
    2. Line the letters up vertically
    3. Write a poem in which each line starts with a word that begins with the letter on each line.

     

    Dew Drop Inn

    April 19—Airplane

    Worst airplane ride ever

    The worst plane trip

    I ever took

    Was in 2025

     

    I took a British Air flight

    To Dhaka

    We were stuck on the tarmac

    For four hours.

     

    There was a disconnect

    Between the number of passengers

    And the checked baggage.

     

    Rather than deplaning us

    And towing the plane

    To a safe distance

    Just in case there was a bomb

    On board.

     

    They kept us in the plane

    We left five hours late.

     

    The airplane’s air conditioning failed

    The toilets backed up

    Leaving only two out of six toilets

    Functioning.

     

    They ran out of food

    Out of booze too.

     

    We got to Bangkok

    Where we deplaned

    For five hours.

     

    Before we had to reboard

    The plane

    Which was

     

    delayed arriving

    In Dhaka

    Due to heavy fog

    At the airport,

     

    We managed to get word

    To the Embassy

    That we were arriving

    Two days later

    Then originally scheduled!

     

    All in all

    The worst flight

    Ever!

     

    Day 20

     

    NaPoWriMo

    What is Hip?

    Do you think that you know?

    it is such a trip.

    better take it slow, Joe.

    why not let it all rip?

     April 20 Bob and Wheel. Quintain form that’s often part of a longer poem.

    • Quintain (or five-line) stanza or poem
    • Rhyme scheme of abba
    • First line of two to three syllables
    • Lines two through five have six syllables per line

     

    Original Lyrics repeated

    What Is Hip Lyrics

    Tower of Power

    [Verse 1]

    So ya wanna dump out yo’ trick bag
    Ease on in a hip thang
    But you ain’t exactly sure what is hip
    So you started to let your hair grow
    Spent big bucks on your wardrobe
    Somehow, ya know there’s much more to the trip

    [Chorus]
    What is hip?
    Tell me, tell me, if you think you know
    What is hip?
    If you’re hip
    The question, “Will it show?”
    You’re into a hip trip
    Maybe hipper than hip
    What is hip?
    [Verse 2]

    You became a part of a new breed
    Been smoking’ only the best weed
    Hangin’ out with the so-called “Hippie set.”

    Seen in all the right places
    Seen with just the right faces
    You should be satisfied, but it ain’t quite right

    [Chorus]
    What is hip?
    Tell me, tell me, if you think you know
    What is hip?
    If you’re hip
    The question, “Will it show?”
    You’re into a hip trip
    Maybe hipper than hip
    What is hip?

    [Break]
    Come on

    [Refrain]
    Hipness is. What it is
    Hipness is. What it is
    Hipness is. What it is
    Sometimes hipness is, what it ain’t

    what is Hip Tower of Power

    Note: you probably have guessed my favorite band by now….

    Happy Saturday, everyone. We hope you’re ready to write some poems!

    Today’s featured participant is Sara Hardy, who took me back to my 1980s childhood with her driving-and -singing poem for Day Eighteen.

    Our resource for the day is a bit goofy. It’s the Gallery of Strange Museums. Some of the museums here don’t strike me as all that strange – more very local or specific. But the Wingnut Museum is definitely a bit odd, as is the World’s Largest Spool of Thread (less a museum than a roadside attraction), while the Hattiesburg Pocket Museum is a testament to the fact that people can – and do – make their own fun.

    And now for our daily prompt – optional as always. This one is inspired by Brigit Pegeen Kelly’s poem “Song.”

    The word “tragedy” comes from the Greek for “goat song.” The song in Kelly’s poem is quite literally a goat song. The poem also describes a tragedy, both in the modern sense of an awful event, and the ancient dramatic sense of a play in which someone does something terrible, and the play’s action shows the consequences.

    The poem has a timeless, could-have-happened-anywhere/any when quality that I associate with blues and folk ballads – including murder ballads (a subgenre of song dealing with a gruesome crime, first arising from broadsheet ballads sold at English executions, and which later came to America in forms like “The Knoxville Girl” and then morphed their way into country music).

    Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that tells a story in the style of a blues song or ballad. One way into this prompt may be to use it to retell a family tragedy or story, or to retell a crime or tragic event that occurred in your hometown.

    What with time’s way of time marching inexorably on, we suppose it was inevitable. We’ve come to the 2/3-way point of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Our featured participant today is Anna Endom, whose tragedy/ballad poem for Day Nineteen is less tragic (thankfully) than it could be.

    Today’s resource is the online galleries of the Tate Modern, where there’s oodles to discover, including a sculpture that sort of makes us think of the Loch Ness Monster holding a beach ball, a swirly bit of op/pop art reminiscent of either candy or a mustache, and this interesting exploration of five different artist-made books.

    And now, here’s today’s (optional) prompt. Below, you’ll find Theodore Roethke’s poem, “In Evening Air.”

    Theodore Roethke’s In Evening Air

    1

    A dark theme keeps me here,
    Though summer blazes in the vireo’s eye.
    Who would be half possessed
    By his own nakedness?
    Waking’s my care–
    I’ll make a broken music, or I’ll die.

    2

    Ye littles, lie more close!
    Make me, O Lord, a last, a simple thing
    Time cannot overwhelm.
    Once I transcended time:
    A bud broke to a rose,
    And I rose from a last diminishing.

    3

    I look down the far light
    And I behold the dark side of a tree
    Far down a billowing plain,
    And when I look again,
    It’s lost upon the night–
    Night I embrace, a dear proximity.

    4

    I stand by a low fire
    Counting the wisps of flame, and I watch how
    Light shifts upon the wall.
    I bid stillness be still.
    I see, in evening air,
    How slowly dark comes down on what we do.

    So, let’s face it: this poem is weird. The rhythm is odd, the rhymes are too, and the language is strangely prophetic and not at all “conversational.” Despite – or maybe because – of this, it has a hypnotic quality, as if it were all inevitable. Your challenge is, with this poem in mind, to write a poem informed by musical phrasing or melody, which employs some form of sound play (rhyme, meter, assonance, alliteration). One way to approach this is to think of a song you know and then basically write new lyrics that fit the original song’s rhythm/phrasing.

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 20

    Rest Poem

    Today I need to take a rest

    Today I need to take a rest
    I am just getting so tired
    Of watching the constant chaos
    Every time I turn on the news.
    ——————————————————————————–
    I need to scream, enough, no más! *
    Today I need to take a rest
    Watching the news gives me the blues
    I have to turn off the damn news.
    ————————————————————————————
    There’s just too much bad news and gloom
    Too many talking heads spinning lies
    Today I need to take a rest
    They keep telling alternative facts.
    I must tune out, turning it all off
    —————————————————————————————-
    I sit down and do my yoga
    Listening to sweet chill music
    Today I need to take a rest.

    *Spanish for more “no mas” is a common expression meaning no more, or even we are out of something

     

    Today, I tried my hand at a new (to me) French poetic form named the quatern that incorporates a refrain like in the villanelle and eight-syllable lines like in the kyrielle. Since I’m a big fan of refrains, I think this poetic form rocks.

    Quatern Poetic Form Rules

    1. This poem has 16 lines broken up into 4 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas).
    2. Each line is comprised of eight syllables.
    3. The first line is the refrain. In the second stanza, the refrain appears in the second line; in the third stanza, the third line; in the fourth stanza, the fourth (and final) line.
    4. There are no rules for rhyming or iambics.

     

    PSH April 20, 2025

     

    I knew it was time to go.

     

    I knew it was time to go.

    I saw the writing on the wall.

    I could see there would be a fall.

    Things would soon come to a great blow.

    Saw that soon there would be madness.

    The country may not grow.

    had to go before the sideshow.

    I knew it was time to go.

     

    Note I retired from government before Trump 1.0, Trump 2.0 is far worse in my opinion.

    The Octavin Refrain is an invented form by Luke Prater.

    This poetry writing prompt was submitted by Diane Barker:

    Time to pull the plug. Write about knowing when to walk away, changing direction or coming to terms with a hard decision. It can be literal or figurative.

    Trochaic tetrameter also acceptable. The latter yields a more propulsive rhythm, as opposed to iambs, which tend to lilt.

    As the name suggests, the first line is a refrain, repeated as the last (some variation of refrain acceptable).

    Rhyme-scheme options as follows –
    option 1 – Abb ac aaba
    option 2 – Abb aca ba
    option 3 – (A bbba cab A)
    option 4 – (Abb aca ba Abb aca ba) (high octane)
    April 21

     

    Time to pull the plug. Write about knowing when to walk away, changing direction or coming to terms with a hard decision. It can be literal or figurative.

     

    Dew Drop Inn

    April 20—Easter eggs (hide something delightful in your poem!)

    Eastern Eggs
    Easter Eggs

    On Easter Sunday

    Kids everywhere

    Hunt for eastern eggs

     

    After coloring them

    And hiding them

    In the garden

     

    Where they delight

    In finding the delightful

    Little chocolate-covered

    Boiled eggs.

    Day Twenty-One

    NaPoWriMo

    The meeting was quite normal

    Meeting Was Normal

    But It Was Not Really

    The DOGE Team Attacks

    Everything Quite Silly

    Soon No More Govbots!

    End Poem

     

    Ricciardone. Irish quatrain form with 5 syllables in first line, 6 in the others.

     

    • Quatrain (or four-line stanza) form
    • Five syllables in the first line; six syllables in the other three lines
    • Each line ends with a two-syllable word
    • Lines two and four rhyme
    • All end words consonate

     

    Comments:

    “Govbot” is a pejorative term quite popular on the right, dating back to the Clinton era, to refer to government workers who are seen as slow-witted drones who could not make it in the free market, which is why they were “govbots” (short for government robots).

    The DOGE stands for Department of Government Efficiency, which the President tasked to root out fraud, waste, and abuse and cut the Federal government’s budget and staff by 50 percent in the process, shutting down agencies, moving many out of DC, etc. The team led by Elon Musk lacks any clear mandate but has acted quickly, causing lots of turmoil, anguish, and litigation by Govbots and others who are opposed to their attempt to slash and burn the government, or to quote Elon Musk, “ take a chainsaw to the Federal government.”  This is not just my biased opinion, it is shared widely in the US, where there are massive protests daily against the destruction of the Federal Government, the ending of DEI programs, the shredding of civil liberties, and mass deportations without due process. End my editorial opinion, sorry for the rant.

    End comments

    Happy Monday, all, and a very happy twenty-first day of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Today, our featured participant is ray, whose Roethke-inspired poem for Day Twenty has an irresistible and friendly rhythm.

    Our daily resource is the Shanghai Museum, where you will find everything from a carved hairpin featuring two mustachioed fellows, to a hot-pink Taoist master, to a calligraphic ode to wine.1

    And now here’s our daily (optional) prompt. Sawako Nakayas u’s poem “Improvisational Score” is a rather surreal prose poem describing an imaginary musical piece that proceeds in a very unmusical way. Today, try your hand at writing your own poem in which something that normally unfolds in a set and well understood way  — like a baseball game or dance recital – goes haywire, but is described as if it is all very normal.

    Sawako Nakayas

    This performance may take place over any duration of time, from zero seconds to many years.

    A number of insects are placed in a clear container so that they are as comfortable as possible, given the circumstances. They are given oxygen and food and water, though they may not escape. The container of insects is placed on stage and a light is directed through the container and projected onto a large screen so that the audience may see the insects.

    Each musician chooses an insect and plays accordingly.

    If two insects begin fighting, the corresponding musicians should also fight, musically or literally.

    If an insect dies, the corresponding musician should also die, musically or literally.

    “Improvisational Score” from The Ants (Les Figures Press, 2014). Reprinted with the permission of the author. All rights reserved.

    Very John Cagian!  One of his more infamous pieces was a piano piece 4′33″ (1952) where the pianist mocked playing the piano silently for seven minutes, the music was the audience’s reaction.

    For those who don’t know about John Cage, here is a Co-Pilot Bio and a bio for Sawka Nakayas as well.

     

    John Cage

    john Cage
    john Cage

    John Cage (1912–1992) was an American avant-garde composer and music theorist known for his pioneering work in indeterminacy, electroacoustic music, and non-standard use of musical instruments. His influence on 20th-century music was profound, challenging traditional notions of composition and performance. Cage was deeply inspired by Zen Buddhism and Eastern philosophies, which led him to embrace chance operations in his compositions.

    Notable Works

    • 4′33″ (1952) – A silent composition where the ambient sounds of the environment become the music.
    • Sonatas and Interludes (1946–48) – A cycle of pieces for prepared piano.
    • Music of Changes (1951) – A work composed using the I Ching.
    • Concert for Piano and Orchestra (1957–58) – A highly indeterminate composition.
    • Oratorio (1979) – A piece inspired by James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake.

    john cage piano music

    Sawako Nakayas

    Swaasko Natasu
    Swaasko Natasu

    Sawako Nakayas is a Japanese-American poet, translator, and performer whose work explores language, performance, and translation. She has lived in Japan, the U.S., France, and China, and her poetry often engages with transnational themes.

    Notable Works

    • Pink Waves (2022)
    • Some Girls Walk Into the Country They Are From (2020)
    • Hurry Home Honey (2009)
    • Texture Notes (2010)
    • The Ants (2014)
    • Mouth: Eats Color – A multilingual work blending original and translated poetry.

    Nakayas has also translated works by Japanese poets such as Chika Sagawa and Tatsumi Hijikata, contributing significantly to cross-cultural literary exchange.

     

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 21

    The Day Of My Jogging Accident

    Begin Poem

     

    That morning I went for a run.

    Fell down a path in the dark.

    The run ended as a short run.

    That fateful morning was pitch-dark.

    14 operations – no fun!

     

    end poem

     

    prompt

     

    We’re now three weeks deep in this challenge; way to bring it. Let’s finish strong!

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “(blank) Day,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Opposite Day,” “Green Day,” “Earth Day,” “The Last Ever Day,” and/or “The Day Before Yesterday.” Even “Holiday” would work honestly.

     

    Criteria

     

    The Quintilla is a Spanish poetic form that, as you may have guessed from the name, uses five-line stanzas. Here are the guidelines:

    • Five-line stanzas.
    • Eight syllables per line.
    • An ab rhyme scheme in which at least two lines use the “a” rhyme and at least two lines use the “b” rhyme…
    • But the stanza cannot end with a rhyming couplet.

     

    Based on a true jogging accident, in 1996 I fell down a ladder in the dark, endured 14 operations over nine months, almost lost my leg and life as I developed an MDR staph infection that almost killed me.  Fortunately, since was wife was a military officer and I worked for the State Department, I was covered under military health care, they took good care of me while the State Department was not at all sympathetic, and I did not have to battle insurance companies.

    PSH April 21, 2025

    Burma Shave Signs from the Past

    For many years

    From the 1920s to the early 70s

     

    Burma Shave

    It was shaving cream

    Company

     

    Sadly, it went out

    Business

    Decades ago

     

    The Burma Shave

    Advertisements

     

    Often humorous

    Or a traffic safety message

    Burma Shave signs

     

    Were a feature

    Of the American rural landscape

     

    The classic Burma Shave sign

    It was a cowboy poetry

    rhyming poem

     

    ending with a tag line

    “Burma Shave”

     

    The modern interstate highway system

    Banned them

    As too distracting

    To motorists

     

    Perhaps they were

    But they were still

     

    An interesting bit

    Of American poetic wit

    And wisdom

     

    Just a few

    I remember

     

    From road trips

     

    In the late 60s

    Before they faded away

    Into American history

     

    “Pricky Pears

    Prickly pears

    Are picked

    For pickles

    No peach picks

    A face that prickles

    Burma Shave”

     

    “Substitutes

    Substitutes

    Resemble

    Tail-chasing pup

    Follow and follow

    But never catch up

    Burma Shave”

     

    Co-Pilot provided background info

    The Burma-Shave ads were a clever and iconic advertising campaign for a brushless shaving cream introduced in 1925 by the Burma-Vita company. These ads became a staple of American highways from 1926 to 1963. The campaign featured a series of small, sequential roadside signs, each displaying a line of a humorous or rhyming poem, with the final sign always bearing the brand name, “Burma-Shave.” The signs were designed to entertain drivers and passengers during long road trips, making them a beloved part of the driving experience.

    The campaign’s popularity peaked in the 1930s and 1940s, with over 7,000 sets of signs across the United States. However, the rise of the Interstate Highway System and faster vehicle speeds in the late 1950s made the signs less effective, leading to their discontinuation in 1963.

    note: you could still find them on backwater highways until the mid  70’s, they are all long gone now.

    Prompt

     

    THINGS YOU’D NEVER HEAR
    –in a weather report
    –over the announcement system at an airport
    –as a public service announcement
    –in a sermon

    THINGS YOU’D NEVER READ
    –in a romance novel
    –in a science fiction book
    –as a pamphlet in a doctor’s office
    –on a get-well card

    THINGS/PEOPLE YOU’D NEVER SEE
    –at a yard sale
    –on a sign at a protest rally
    –on a menu
    –on the FBI’s “Most Wanted” list
    *************************************************************************
    Example–from Joe Kelty’s Poem: ROAD SIGNS WE NEVER SEE

    NO TURN ON BLUE
    SPEED LIMIT 46.24 MPH
    PASS WITH ABANDON
    WRONG RIGHT-OF-WAY
    GO FOR IT
    NEXT REST AREA 900 MILES. HOLD ON.
    CRISSCROSS CENTER LINE
    ROAD SLIPPERY WHEN PRESENT
    FLOOR IT HERE TO CORNER
    NOSEDIVE, 1 MILE
    TAILGATING ZONE
    MERGE OR BE SORRY
    CAUTION: THREE-WAY TRAFFIC . . .

     

    Dew Drop Inn

    April 21—A country not your own

    First Visit to Korea

    map of three kingdoms

    In 1979
    I first went to Korea
    In those Peace Corps

    After a long plane ride
    My first international flight
    I ended up in South Korea

    At the old Gimpo airport
    A chaotic crazy drive
    Through Seoul

    To the town of Chuncheon
    Where we did our training course
    For four months

    First visit to another land
    First foreign travel
    To a strange land

    Exotic people
    Strange sounds and sights
    And the smells of incense
    And the food ah the food

    korean feast jpg
    korean feast jpg

    But over time
    Became my second home
    45 years later

    I returned to Korea
    Ending up living
    Next door to Gimpo airport
    Where my journey began
    45 years ago

    Incheon, Korea
    incheon Korea

     

    Day Twenty-Two

    NaPoWriMo

    piano
    piano

     Playing Mozart Sonatas at age 69

    On Playing Mozart Piano Sonata

     

    I have resumed

    Daily  playing

    Piano playing

    .

    At the age of 69

    I have started

    Playing the piano

     

    I had delusions

    I could have made

    A career in music

     

    Flunked out

    Of the music conservatory

    Cured me of that delusion

     

    Playing for my amusement

    Over the years

     

    I decided to try again

    About two years ago

     

    Playing an hour a day

    Most days

    Except when

    I am traveling

     

    Finally getting the chops

    To handle more advanced

    Piano pieces

     

    Working my way

    Up to playing

     

    Bach,  Beethoven,

    Hayden and Mozart

     

    Even blues classics

    And Ellington songs!

    and 100 top songs of all time!

     

    just completed playing

    All of the Mozart Sonatas

    Next Up Beethoven!

     

    Welcome back, everyone, for the twenty-second day of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

    Our featured participant today is Cutting Hail, who brings us not just one poem in response to Day 21’s “instructional” prompt, but three!

    Today’s daily resource is the Uffizi Gallery, in Florence, Italy. If you are at all interested in Renaissance Italian masters, it’s the right place to get an eyeful of Titians, Caravaggio, Botticelli’s, Canaletto, and da Vincis.

    And now for today’s optional prompt! Did you take music lessons as a child? Despite having all the musical talent of a dried-out lemon, I took two years of piano lessons. I was required to practice for half an hour a day and showed my disgruntlement by playing certain very annoying songs – like Turkey in the Straw – over and over, as loudly as possible. But while

    I thought of the lessons as a kind of torture, I’m glad as an adult to have taken them – if only for the greater dexterity it gave to my hands!

    In her poem, Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons, Diane Wakoski’s is far more grateful than I ever managed to be, describing the act of playing as a “relief” from loneliness and worry, and as enlarging her life with something beautiful. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tire – that gave you a similar kind of satisfaction, and perhaps still does.

     

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 22

    Please Tell Us The People The Truth Soledad

    Please tell us the truth

    Hey govbots, no more lies, no mas! *

    We don’t need any more half-truth

     

    *Spanish for no more  can be politically as here or simply we are out of something or stop doing something quite a flexible wording

     

    Govbots pejorative term for government workers among the right, dating back to the Clinton era, meaning government workers who are mindless drones following rules and procedures

    On the 22nd day of the 2025 April Poem-A-Day Challenge, writers are challenged with the fourth Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the month.

    It’s time for the fourth (but not final) Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

    • Write a poem and/or…
    • Write a don’t tell me poem.

    You get to decide what that means; you might even tell me in your poem.

    Criteria

    Soledad. Spanish tercet form.

    The Soledad is a Spanish poetic form. It has the following guidelines:

    • Three-line poem (or stanzas).
    • Eight-syllable lines.
    • Rhyme scheme: aba.
    • Internal consonance and assonance.

     

    PSH April 22, 2025

    Reprograming My Mind

    It is so easy

    Watching the news

    And following social media

    To become outraged

    Enraged and depressed

     

    That is what they want

    From us

     

    Keeping us

    From seeing

    The beauty

     

    The joy

    And even happiness

    That is still around us

     

    Whenever I get too depressed

    With constant doom-scrolling

     

    I stop and think about

     

    All the good things

    In my life

     

    And especially

    How I met and married

    The lady of my dreams

     

    And day-to-day

    Noise of the

    perpetual outrage machine

     

    The media has become

    Fades away

     

    Replaced by a sense

    Of joy and yes

    Even happiness

     

    Which no one

    can take away

    From us

     

    Reprogram your mind

    Get rid of negativity

     

    And concentrate

    On the positive

    And the things

     

    You can do

    To make this

    A better world

     

    So go forth

    And find

    Your inner joy

    And happiness

     

    Whatever form

    That may take

     

    Prompt provided, but I am skipping this one – too much of a headache to wrap my  tired 69-year old brain around!  Instead, I decided to write something positive for a welcome change to my otherwise gloomy poems

     

    Dew Drop Inn

    April 22—Earth Day

    Earth Day

    I sometimes wonder

    What future generations

    Will we think of our generation?

     

    We all know

    That this world of ours

    It is a fragile place,

     

    And we all know

    That climate change

    Is real,

     

    Exacerbated by

    The relentless terraforming

    Of the planet,

     

    To accommodate

    billions of people.

     

    But I also think

    that humanity

    will eventually

     

    be forced to change

    to save the planet

    for future generations.

     

    And we will end up

    settling up colonies

    on the Moon, Mars

     

    and the Moons of Jupiter

    and Saturn

    perhaps beyond.

     

    probably long after

    I am gone

    But perhaps not

    If I live another 30 years!

     

    I would love

    to walk on the moon

    Or on Mars

     

    With my love by my side

    Before I go to my next life,

    The ultimate bucket travel item.

     

    Day Twenty-Three

    NaPoWriMo

    Mockingbirds

    mocking bird
    mocking bird

    While walking

    Deep in the woods
    In Youngchong Island

    High above Sky City
    near the Incheon airport
    In South Korea.

    I heard them
    then saw them

    Hideous black

    Korean magpie

    Krachi  mocking birds.

    Looking at me
    Cackling at me
    Laughing at me
    Mocking me.

    Calling me names

    I asked

    “Say birds,

    What do you

    Want from me?”

    They laughed,

     

    “Nothing

    But your doom
    human!”

    And they flew

    Around me
    dive bombing me.

    surrounding me
    calling me names.

    In Korean,

    And English.

    As I fled

    The trail
    With the demon birds
    hot on my trail.

    Note:

    Korean magpies, sometimes called mockingbirds, are common in more rural areas, and they do often laugh as people walk by. Very eerie sound, and the birds are quite big. The above is based on a nightmare I had after a real encounter on a trail back in 2018, pre-COVID era, when I was living near the airport and often took long walks through the nearby hills.

    Co-pilot background on Korean mockingbirds

    Mockingbirds are not native to Korea, so there isn’t a specific Korean name for them. However, Korea is home to a rich variety of bird species, some of which mimic sounds like mockingbirds do. For example, the Eurasian magpie, known as “까치” (kka chí) in Korean, is a common bird that is admired for its intelligence and vocal abilities.

    As for endangered species, South Korea has several bird species that are nationally protected due to their vulnerable status. You can find detailed lists of these species on resources like the Ministry of Environment’s website or the Birds Korea Checklist.

    Happy Wednesday, everyone, and happy twenty-third day of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

    Today, our featured participant is Elizabeth Bouquet, who brings us a poem with a poem in it in response to Day Twenty-Two’s lessons-based prompt.

    Our resource for the day is the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The museum’s online image collection is practically endless, and to call it varied would be an understatement. There’s over 2,000 images just of baseball cards! To say nothing of candelabra featuring what appears to be a scandalized swan, a processional sword belonging to the guardsman of a sixteenth-century German duke, and a couch that I would very much like to fall upon in a melodramatic swoon.

    And last but not least, here’s today’s (optional) prompt. Humans might be the only species to compose music, but we’re quite famously not the only ones to make it. Birdsong is all around us – even in cities, there are sparrows chirping, starlings making a racket. And it’s hardly surprising that birdsong has inspired poets. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that focuses on birdsong. Need examples? Try A.E. Stallings’ “Blackbird Etude,” or for an old-school throwback, Shelley’s “To a Skylark.”

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 23

    Too Many Books

    Have too many
    Books
    For me to read
    Friends
    I need to start decluttering
    I own too many books and CDs to keep
    My books
    It is hard to say goodbye
    To my friends
    Love reading my old classics
    So much I’ve learned from all my classic books
    Each one, a friend through long years of my life
    I’ll miss them

     

    I can’t believe how fast we’re breezing through this month. One week of poeming after today!

     

    For today’s prompt, write a poem book. Today is World Book Day, which may be one of my favorite holidays moving forward, because I love books. Your poem could be inspired by a book, an author, a character, a scene, and/or however you’d like to come to this one. Heck, write about a bookstore, library, card catalogue, or any other bookish thing you can imagine.

    Criteria

     

    You know Pi as the sixteenth letter of the Greek alphabet. But Pi is also used as poetry form. I discovered a small explanation on the page of Jan Haag, who has written several poems in Pi form.

    The Pi is built up in words and follows the mathematical number that stands for Pi:
    PI = 3.141592653589793

    In lines:

    Pi Form

     

    line 1: 3 words
    line 2: 1 word
    line 3: 4 words
    line 4: 1 word
    line 5: 5 words
    line 6: 9 words
    line 7: 2 words
    line 8: 6 words
    line 9: 5 words
    line 10: 3 words
    line 11: 5 words
    line 12: 8 words
    line 13: 9 words
    line 14: 7 words
    line 15: 9 words
    line 16: 3 words.

     

    Bonus Poem

     

    Hard to Say Goodbye to Books

     

     

    A lonely old man

    In the stillness

    Of a quiet room

    Look at his books

    Knowing he has to move

    Alone now, he needs to declutter his life

    But it is hard to say goodbye

    To his old friends.

     

     

    Dew Drop Inn

    April 23—Shakespeare

    Seeing  Shakespeare plays

    Oregon Shaesphere Festival
    Oregon Shakespeare Festival

    My best friend

    From first grade

    Became an actor.

     

    Ended up doing

    Mostly Shakespearean dramas

    A few minor movie and TV roles

    And commercials

     

    But he was typecast

    As a Shakespeare guy

    And he was fine

    With that.

     

    One of the lucky one percent

    Of actors who made a living

    Doing only acting.

     

    And now he is mostly retired

    Actor

    Being A Shakespearian actor

    It is hard work physically

    And mentally.

     

    Just too hard to keep going

    As we get near and past 70.

     

    Through him

    I became a Shakespeare fan

    I have, over the years

    Read all of the plays.

     

    And seen most of the plays

    Live, on TV, and in movies

     

    And in Oregon

    We go to Ashland

    The Shakespeare Festival

    Once a year.

     

    My favorites

    are historical dramas,

     

    “Julius Caesar” is my all-time favorite

    Followed by “Romeo and Juliet”

    “Macbeth,” and “Hamlet”

    “As You Like It,” and

    “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

     

    I prefer the classical versions

    I do not like most modern interpretations

    Particularly when they try to modernize

    The  language

     

    But I think that is a losing battle,

    Eventually Shakespearian English

    Will become too hard

    To follow for most folks.

     

     

    Day Twenty- Four

    NaPoWrMo

    BB King
    BB King

    Sam Jones Why I get the Blues

    Jake Jones

    Was a blues singer

    From way back

    In his high school days

    He became known

    As the white boy blues man

    From the streets of Oakland

    California

    He had his own band

    Jake and the Jump Backs

    They played the classic standard

    Blues

     

    Jake had a growling

    Howling wolf style voice

    And played a mean guitar

    And the stride piano and keyboards

     

    BB King heard of him

    And invited him on a tour

    With him

     

    Jake and the Jump Backs

    Opened for all legendary

    Blues men of the 70s and 80s

     

    And toured with the funk bands

    Including

    Tower of Power

    Parliament

    Earth Wind and Fire

    And Wild Cherry

     

    Their cover of

    “ Play that Funky Music, White Boy”

    became almost

    As famous as the original song

     

    Lyrics to Play that Funky Music White Boy

     

    https://genius.comAWild-cherry

    Play That Funky Music

    Song by

    Wild Cherry

    Hey, do it now, huh
    Yeah, hey

    Hey, once I was a boogie singer
    Playing in a rock ‘n’ roll band
    I never had any problems, yeah
    Burning down the one-night stands
    Then everything around me, yeah
    It got to start feeling so low
    And I decided quickly, yes, I did, heh
    To disco down and check out the show

    Yeah, they were dancing and singing
    And moving to the grooving
    And just when it hit me
    Somebody turned around and shouted…

    “Play that funky music, white boy
    Play that funky music right
    Play that funky music, white boy
    Lay down the boogie and play that funky music ’til you die” (heh, heh)
    ‘Til you die, yeah, uh
    Here, here, ha

    Well, I tried to understand this (yeah)
    Heh, I thought that they were out of their minds
    How could I be so foolish? How could I?
    To not see I was the one behind?
    So still I kept on fighting
    Well, losing every step of the way (hey, what’d you do?)
    I said, “I must go back there,” I got to go back
    And check to see if things still the same

    Yeah, they were dancing and singing
    And moving to the grooving
    And just when it hit me
    Somebody turned around and shouted…

    “Play that funky music, white boy (yeah)
    Play that funky music right, oh
    Play that funky music, white boy
    Lay down the boogie and play that funky music ’til you die” (heh)
    ‘Til you die (yeah)
    Oh, ’til you die
    Gonna play some electrified funky music, yow

    Ah, ha, ha

    Hey, wait a minute, now first it wasn’t easy
    Changing rock ‘n’ roll and minds
    Yeah, things were getting shaky (yeah)
    I thought I’d have to leave it behind, uh
    Ooh, but now it’s so much better, it’s so much better
    I’m funking out in every way
    But I’ll never lose that feeling, no, I won’t
    Of how I learned my lesson that day

    When they were dancing and singing
    And moving to the grooving
    And just when it hit me
    Somebody turned around and shouted

    “Play that funky music, white boy
    Play that funky music right
    Play that funky music, white boy
    Lay down the boogie and play that funky music ’til you die” (heh)
    ‘Til you die (yeah)
    Oh, ’til you die, yeah
    Come on, let’s go!

    (They shouted, “play that funky music”) play that funky music
    (Play that funky music) you gotta keep on playing funky music
    (Play that funky music) play that funky music
    (Play that funky music) come on and take you higher

    Play that funky music, white boy
    Play that funky music right, yeah
    Play that funky music, white boy
    Play that funky music right, yeah

    Play that funky music (white boy)
    Play that funky music (right, yeah)
    Play that funky music (honky)
    Play that funky music (right, ha)
    Play that funky…

    Songwriters: Robert W. Parisi. For non-commercial use only.

    Welcome back, everyone, to Day Twenty-Four of our annual poetry-writing challenge!

    Our featured participant for the day is haphazard, whose birdsong poem for Day Twenty-Three places primacy on the “gaps in the music.”

    Today’s daily resource is the Art Institute of Chicago, where just searching the collection for the word “stars,” I found this amazing quilt, a very fancy-looking Soviet plate, and an illustration of the constellation Leo from a medieval Arabic astronomical guide.

    And now for today’s (optional) prompt. One fundamental aspect of music is its communal nature. While a single person can make music, of course, it’s often made in groups. Rock bands, orchestras, church choirs – they all involve making music together. And often, we’re playing or performing music that was written by, or inspired by, other people.

    In her poem, Duet, Lisa Russ Spaar tells the story of two sisters making music together, based on two pre-existing songs by different artists. Today, we challenge you to write a poem that involves people making music together, and that references – with a lyric or line – a song or poem that is important to you.

     

    PSH April 23, 2025   Poetry Writing Prompt from Franci Levine-Grater

    Looking at my house filled with memories Kimo Poem

    Looking at my house filled with memories

    I have many books to read

    There are still many more things to do

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Franci Levine-Grater:

    Look at an item, or a picture of an item, which is important or sentimental to you and write about memories and feelings it elicits. Do NOT describe the item. Rather, use it as an inspiration to access why it is sentimental to you.

    • 3 lines
    • No rhymes.
    • 10 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second, and 6 in the third.

    Also, the kimo is focused on a single frozen image (kind of like a snapshot). So it’s uncommon to have any movement happening in kimo poems.

     

    Dew Drop Inn

     

    April 23—Shakespeare

    Seeing  Shakespeare plays

     

    My best friend

    From first grade

    Became an actor.

     

    Ended up doing

    Mostly Shakespearean dramas

    A few minor movie and TV roles

    And commercials

     

    But he was typecast

    As a Shakespeare guy

    And he was fine

    With that.

     

    One of the lucky one percent

    Of actors who made a living

    Doing only acting.

     

    And now he is mostly retired

    Actor

    Being A Shakespearian actor

    It is hard work physically

    And mentally.

     

    Just too hard to keep going

    As we get near and past 70.

     

    Through him

    I became a Shakespeare fan

    I have, over the years

    Read all of the plays.

     

    And seen most of the plays

    Live, on TV, and in movies

     

    And in Oregon

    We go to Ashland

    The Shakespeare Festival

    Once a year.

     

    My favorites

    are historical dramas,

     

    “Julius Caesar” is my all-time favorite

    Followed by “Romeo and Juliet”

    “Macbeth,” and “Hamlet”

    “As You Like It,” and

    “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

     

    I prefer the classical versions

    I do not like most modern interpretations

    Particularly when they try to modernize

    The langauge.

     

    But I think that is a losing battle,

    Eventually Shakespearian English

    Will become too hard

    To follow for most folks.

     

    Day Twenty- Four

     

    NaPoWriMo

    Frank Zappa

    Frank Zappa Died too Soon

     

    Attending two Frank Zappa concerts

    We were among the best concerts

    I ever attended

     

    I was a huge fan of Frank Zappa

     

    Loved his work

    Everything he wrote

     

    He was my musical hero

    Sadly, he died way too soon

    I often wonder

     

    What he would have thought

    Of Trump one and Trump two

    Presidencies?

     

    No doubt he would have

    Had a lot to say

     

    Perhaps he would have been

    The light of the rebellion

    Against Trumpian madness?

     

    Happy final Friday of Na/GloPoWriMo, all.

    With apologies for the delay (I’m traveling, and just plain fell asleep last night before updating today’s post!), today’s featured participant is Wren Jones, who brings us a flashback to Springsteen in response to Day Twenty-Four’s making-music-together prompt.

    Our daily resource is the online galleries of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya, one of India’s foremost museums.

     

    It’s a pleasure to browse through the images here. I particularly liked these anklets that aren’t just jewelry but a sort of personal piggy bank, this portrait of the fabulously mustachioed J.M. Curette, and this highly decorative flask, originally meant to hold gunpowder!

     

    Finally, here is our optional prompt for the day. In her poem, Senzo, Evie Shockley recounts the experience of being at a live concert, relating it the act of writing poetry. Today we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts an experience of your own hearing live music and tells how it moves you. It could be a Rolling Stones concert, your little sister’s middle school musical, or just someone whistling – it just needs to be something meaningful to you.

     

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 24

    O Dark Hundred Nightmares

     

    Midnight

    Insomnia takes hold of me

    nightmares terrifying me

    0 dark hundred

    late nights

     

    What if

    What if nightmares take over

    Replaying in my mind

    What if what if

    what if

     

    Worries

    Going down dark, twisted rabbit holes

    Natural disasters

    Fear of my death

    The end

     

    Comment:

     

    Note: O Dark hundred hours is a military/intel slang phrase that refers to the hours just before dawn between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m., depending on location and time of year. This is when bad things happen in the night, as military and intel special forces wake up for a dawn operation. Here and in other similar poems and short stories, it refers to when people most often have nightmares around 3 a.m. in the middle of the night, or O Dark hundred.

    Bonus Poem

    O dark hundred insomnia blues

    Sam Adams had the insomnia blues
    he could not sleep.

    He stared at the ceiling.
    That stared back at him
    With an evil grin
    Mocking him it seems.

    His mind plays an endless tape
    of fears doom, and endless fears
    As he goes down the proverbial rabbit hole
    Lost in an endless anxiety feedback freak out loop.

    The latest dark SF series he saw
    the latest scary news
    Political dystopian futures
    Endless possibilities play out.

    The latest news of war
    the latest fears of incipient fascism
    The latest news about the stock market
    climate change weather disasters
    Monster storms and flooding
    His town burning up around him.

    What if I have the big Alzheimer’s, or dementia?
    What if I have Cancer, Covid, Lyme disease, or Monkeypox?
    What if World War Three breaks out?

    4:30 a.m.

    What if I am at the mall
    When a mad gunman opens fire?
    Or a terrorist bomb goes off?
    Or I am the victim of a random act of violence?

    5:15 a.m.

    What if the zombie apocalypse starts?
    What if, what if, what if……

    6:30 a.m.

    Until day-break blasts him awake
    as the dawning sun fills the room.
    Ending that night’s insomnia blues.
    Until the next night’s episode begins
    at O Dark Hundred.

    Prompt

     

    For today’s prompt, write a time of day poem. You can pick a specific time of day (like the songs “3 A.M. Eternal,” by The KLF, or “12:51,” by The Strokes), or it can be a more generalized thing (like “early morning” or “lunch time” or whatever). Snack time is one of my favorite times of day, for sure. (And don’t forget poeming time!)

     

    Criteria

     

    This poetry form is not a difficult one. The form finds its origin in Spain. Not much is known about the history of the form, so we’ll stick to the details.

    How is the Cinquain set up?

    xx
    xxxxxxxx
    xxxxxx
    xxxx
    xx

    (2/8/6/4/2 syllables.)

    If you center the poem, the shape looks like a top, quite cute

    Poetry info: http://www.angelfire.com/art/formsofpoetry/agamemmnon s.sanctuary.spanishfor…

    http://home.planet.nl/~boons468/Poetry_Forms.html
    Some of my art:
    http://home.planet.nl/~boons468/Bianca.ht

    PSH Cut-up Remixed consular officers have the best stories

    Bob Jones chief

     

    Mumbai

    9-11

    oversee

    immigrant visas,

    adjudicator

    fraud unit

     

    “administrative processing”

    Had best stories,

     

    “So, what can we do for you?”
    ————————————————————————————————————
    “ Yes, my father is dying

     

    He said to her,

    “Do you have any proof

     

    And she said yes,

    ———————————–

    that letter

    It was fraudulent.

    ————————————————————————————————–

    Mr Patel had died

    about two weeks before.

    “So, Miss Patel

    when was the last time

    you spoke to your father?”

    ————————————————————————————————– “Oh, I spoke to him just now

    he is still alive

    “OK well,

    there’s just one problem.

     

    Do you believe in ghosts?”

    ” What?”
    ——————————————————————————————-
    “Well, you see here’s the problem.

    There’s only one way you

    could have spoken

    to your father today

    ————————————————————————————————–and that is if you spoke

    to a ghost

    he died two weeks ago”.

     

    Another day

    in the life of a visa officer

    —————————————————————————————————

    doing his part

    to enforce  broken  system.
    Just another  bad government gig

     

    The immigration system has been broken for decades and is riddled with fraud, but most immigrants are decent, hardworking people. I disagree with the mass deportation campaign and the practice of sweeping people off the streets. Instead, they should have fixed the system, which would need to include a path to legalization for those who are otherwise law-abiding, long-term residents. It is far better for everyone if they have legal status rather than living in the shadows. I also believe we must make it easier for legal immigration and give priority to those who study in the U.S. and are poised to become the next innovators here. The current policy is shortsighted, cruel, and counterproductive.

    Experiment with Cross-Outs and Cut-ups Using Old Drafts of Poetry as Raw Material!

    This prompt invites you to rework forgotten/abandoned drafts by both/either redacting/covering up selected words (cross-outs) and cutting lines out of hard copies and re-ordering them on a piece of paper, gluing them down when you are satisfied (cut-ups). Magazines are also good raw material for cross-out and cut-up poetry and found poems. Either using intuition, or complete random selection. The point is not to overthink it. You’ll need scissors and glue or tape and some blank paper and a marking pen.

    Lewis Carroll answered the question of “How do I be a poet?” in 1883:

    “For first you write a sentence,
    And then you chop it small;
    Then mix the bits, and sort them out
    Just as they chance to fall:
    The order of the phrases makes
    No difference at all.”

    Tristan Tzara, in the 1920s, proposed to create a poem on the spot by pulling words out of a hat. In the 1950s Brion Gysin cut newspaper articles into sections and rearranged the sections at random. William Burroughs asserts. “Cuts ups are for everyone,” just as Tzara remarked that “poetry is for everyone.”

    April 24—Duty

    visa fraud stories

    Bob Jones was an immigrant visa chief

    for the United States of America

    consular officers have the best stories,

    and cases that will always be remembered.

    ———————————————————————————————————————–

    On that November day,

    an Indian American citizen

    came to the consulate to see him.

    ———————————————————————————————————————–She had a request.

    would he be willing to consider

    her Sibling’s cases.

     

    Her father had immigrated

    to the United States

    and become a citizen.

     

    And she had become

    a citizen as well.

     

    She had four siblings

    who were in their 30s

    all of whom were living in India

    and all of those visas

    ————————————————————————————————

    were held up for “administrative processing”

    on suspicion of marriage fraud,

    or rather fake single status,

    which was the biggest category

    of visa fraud.

     

    Her father had petitioned

    for them and

    as unmarried children of U.S. citizens,

     

    the wait was

    about three years,

    whereas for married children of U.S. citizens,

    the wait would be about seven years.

     

    In this case,

    he suspected

    that they were committing

    marriage fraud

    by pretending

    to be unmarried

    and the case

    had been held up

     

    They knew culturally speaking

    that rural Gujarati women

    and men in their 30s

    would all be married

     

    and that they were faking

    being single on paper

    to speed up visa processing.

     

    Once they were Green card holders

    They would marry their spouses

     

    So in five years

    They would all be together

    Instead of ten years

     

    He understood

    and even felt sympathetic

    but the law was the law

     

    -and he had to

    enforce the visa law

    even the insane rules.

    – He asked her,

    “So, what can we do for you?”
    ————————————————————————————————–
    “ Yes, my father is dying

    in the hospital

    —————————————————————————————-

    and it is his dying wish

    to reunite the family

    in the United States

     

    could you please

    reconsider issuing

    the visas to them?”

    He said to her,
    ————————————————————————————————
    “Do you have any proof

    that your father

    is in the hospital?”

    ————————————————————————————————–
    And she said yes,

    and she pulled out

    a letter written

    by an Indian doctor

    in New Jersey

     

    saying that Mister Patel

    was seriously ill

    and that it

    was his dying wish

     

    to have his children

    reunited in the United States,

    and see him before he died.

     

    and that the consulate

    should reconsider

    issuing visas

    for the children.

     

    There was something

    about that letter

    that struck him as fraudulent.

     

    and so he called the hospital

    and he confirmed

    with the duty doctor

     

    that Mr. Patel

    had died

    about two weeks before.

    ————————————————————————————————–
    He called Miss Patel

    and gave her the bad news.

     

    He started by saying.

    “So, Miss Patel

    when was the last time

    you spoke to your father?”

     

    “Oh, I spoke to him just now

    he is still alive and waiting

    for his children to arrive

    to see him before he dies.”

     

    “He is alive right now?”

    Oh, yes, he is still alive

    and he’s waiting

    for the immigrant visas

    to be processed.”

     

    “OK well, there’s just one problem.

    Do you believe in ghosts?”

    ” What?”
    ——————————————————————————————-
    “Well, you see here’s the problem.

     

    There’s only one way you

    could have spoken

    to your father today

    and that is if you spoke

     

    to a ghost because

    according to the hospital,

    he died two weeks ago”.

     

    And he showed

    her fax from the hospital

    confirming Mr. Patel’s demise.
    ————————————————————————————————–She started crying.

    Then he said.

    “Well, you know the problem

    is that you and your siblings

    just committed visa fraud.

     

    They are going to be stuck

    in India and not allowed to travel

    to the United States

    for the next 99 years.

     

    But planes fly both ways

    and you can go visit them

    every year if you want

    but they’re not coming

    into the United States.

     

    And you can file for them

    And in eight years seek

    A visa waiver for the ineligibility

    It is sometimes granted.”

     

    – She cried

    and he entered them

    in the system for visa

    misrepresentation.

     

    This one was

    but one of the many

    heart-breaking stories

    illustrating

    how broken the US immigration system was.

     

    In this particular case,

    if the father was still alive,

    he might have

    reconsidered the case

     

    and issued the visas

    for humanitarian reasons

    ignoring marriage fraud,

    which was always difficult to prove,

     

    but when the father

    died the petition died with him.

    He said to himself

    well that’s just another day

    in the life of a visa officer

    ————————————————————————————————–

    doing his part

    to enforce

    a broken immigration system.

     

    But, thinking back on it all,

    he felt blessed to be working

    serving the country he loved

     

    -and helping immigrants,

    students and visitors

    visit America

    while deterring fraudsters,

     

    and helping American citizens

    who found themselves

    in trouble in a foreign land.

     

    Not bad for a government gig

    He always said.

     

    The immigration system has been broken for decades and is riddled with fraud, but most immigrants are decent, hardworking people. I disagree with the mass deportation campaign and the practice of sweeping people off the streets. Instead, they should have fixed the system, which would need to include a path to legalization for those who are otherwise law-abiding, long-term residents. It is far better for everyone if they have legal status rather than living in the shadows. I also believe we must make it easier for legal immigration and give priority to those who study in the U.S. and are poised to become the next innovators here. The current policy is shortsighted, cruel, and counterproductive.

     

    Day Twenty-Five

    NaPoWriMo

    Frank Zappa Died too Soon

    frank zappa

    Attending two Frank Zappa concerts

    We were among the best concerts

    I ever attended

     

    I was a huge fan of Frank Zappa

     

    Loved his work

    Everything he wrote

     

    He was my musical hero

    Sadly, he died way too soon

    I often wonder

     

    What he would have thought

    Of Trump one and Trump two

    Presidencies?

     

    No doubt he would have

    Had a lot to say

     

    Perhaps he would have been

    The light of the rebellion

    Against Trumpian madness?

    Happy final Friday of Na/GloPoWriMo, all.

    With apologies for the delay (I’m traveling, and just plain fell asleep last night before updating today’s post!), today’s featured participant is Wren Jones, who brings us a flashback to Springsteen in response to Day Twenty-Four’s making-music-together prompt.

    Our daily resource is the online galleries of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya, one of India’s foremost museums.

    It’s a pleasure to browse through the images here. I particularly liked these anklets that aren’t just jewelry but a sort of personal piggy bank, this portrait of the fabulously mustachioed J.M. Curette, and this highly decorative flask, originally meant to hold gunpowder!

    Finally, here is our optional prompt for the day. In her poem, Senzo, Evie Shockley recounts the experience of being at a live concert, relating it the act of writing poetry. Today we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts an experience of your own hearing live music and tells how it moves you. It could be a Rolling Stones concert, your little sister’s middle school musical, or just someone whistling – it just needs to be something meaningful to you.

     

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 25

    April 25 I shall always remember

    One night in early September

    A night I will always remember

    For on  that date, my dream lady came to life

     

    It was on that September date

    I knew that I had met my fate

    When I saw her, sparks flew from heart to heart

     

    Tripadi Poems

    The Tripadi is a Bengali poetic form. Here are the guidelines:

    • Tercets (or three-line stanzas).
    • Lines one and two end rhyme with each other.
    • Lines one and two have eight syllables.
    • Line three has ten syllables.
    • Poem may consist of one tercet or several.

     

    f you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.

     

    PSH April 25, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Jason Morphew

    The Sphinx Golden Shovel Poem

    The ancient Sphinx

    Feels drowsy,

    She stretches her wings

    And as they furled

    She  has a heavy heart

    Thinking about the world she broods

    She tells poet Emerson her secret.

     

    Words chosen

    • wings
    • furled
    • heavy
    • broods
    • secret

    Ralph Waldo Emerson

    1803 – 1882

    The Dream of the Spinx

    The Sphinx is drowsy,

    The wings are furling.

    Her ear is heavy,

    She broods on the world.

    “Who’ll tell me my secret,

    The ages have kept?–

    I awaited the seer,

    While they slumbered and slept;–

     

    “The fate of the man-child.

    The meaning of man.

    Know fruit of the unknown.

    Daedalian plan.

    Out of sleeping a waking,

    Out of waking a sleep.

    Life death overtaking.

    Deep underneath deep?

     

    “Erect as a sunbeam,

    Upspringeth the palm.

    The elephant browses,

    Undaunted and calm.

    In beautiful motion

    The thrush plies his wings.

    Kind leaves of his covert,

    Your silence he sings.

     

    “The waves, unashamed,

    In difference sweet,

    Play glad about the breezes,

    Old playfellows meet.

    The journeying atoms,

    Primordial holes,

    Firmly draw, firmly drive,

    By their animate poles.

     

    “Sea, earth, air, sound, silence,

    Plant, quadruped, bird,

    By one music enchanted,

    One deity stirred,–

    Each the other adorning,

    Accompany still.

    Night veiled the morning,

    The vapor the hill.

     

    “The babe by its mother

    Lies bathed in joy.

    Glide its hours uncounted,–

    The sun is its toy.

    Shines the peace of all being,

    Without cloud, in its eyes.

    And the sum of the world

    In soft miniature lies.

     

    “But man crouches and blushes,

    Absconds and conceals.

    He creepeth and peepeth,

    He platters and steals.

    Infirm, melancholy,

    Jealous glancing around,

    An oaf, an accomplice,

    He poisons the ground.

     

    “Outspoke the great mother,

    Beholding his fear;–

    At the sound of her accents

    Cold shuddered the sphere:–

    ‘Who has drugged my boy’s cup?

    Who has mixed my boy’s bread?

    Who, with sadness and madness,

    Has turned the man-child’s head?’”

     

    I heard a poet answer,

    Aloud and cheerfully,

    “Say on, sweet Sphinx! thy dirges

    Are pleasant songs to me.

    Deep love lieth under

    These pictures of time.

    They fad in the light of

    Their meaning sublime.

     

    “The fiend that man harries

    It is love of the Best.

    Yawns the pit of the Dragon,

    Lit by rays from the Blest.

    The Lethe of nature

    Can’t trace him again,

    Whose soul sees perfect,

    Which his eyes seek in vain.

     

    “Profounder, profounder,

    Man’s spirit must dive.

    To his aye-rolling orbit

    No goal will arrive.

    The heavens that now draw him

    With sweetness untold,

    Once found,–for new heavens

    He spurned the old.

     

    “Pride ruined the angels,

    Their shame restores.

    And the joy that is sweetest

    Lurks in stings of remorse.

    Have I been lover

    Who is noble and free?–

    I would he were nobler

    Than to love me.

     

    “Eterna alternation

    Now follows, now flied.

    And under pain, pleasure,–

    Under pleasure, pain lies.

    Love works at the centre,

    Heart-heaving always.

    Fourth speed the strong pulses

    To the borders of day.

     

    “Dull Sphinx, Jove keep thy five wits!

    Thy sight is growing blear.

    Rue, myrrh, and cummin for the Sphinx–

    Her muddy eyes clear!”–

    The old Sphinx bit her thick lip,–

    Said, “Who taught me to name?

    I am thy spirit, yoke-fellow,

    Of thine eye I am eyebeam.

     

    “Thou art the unanswered question.

    Couldst see they proper eye,

    Always it Saketh, Saketh.

    And each answer is a lie.

    So take thy quest through nature,

    Through thousand natures ply.

    Ask on, thou clothed eternity.

    Time is the false reply.”

     

    Uprose the merry Sphinx,

    And crouched no more in stone.

    She melted into purple cloud,

    She silvered in the moon.

    She sprinted into a yellow flame.

    She flowered in blossoms red.

    She flowed into a foaming wave.

    She stood Monadnock’s head.

     

    Through a thousand voices

    Spoke the universal dame:

    “Who telethon one of my meanings,

    Is master of all I am.”

    From Collected Poems & Translations by Ralph Waldo Emerson, published by Library of

    The Dream of the Sphinx Emerson Inspired Golden Shovel Poem

     

    Golden Shovel. Terrance Hayes-invented, Gwendolyn Brooks-inspired.

    Here are the rules for the Golden Shovel:

    • Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire.
    • Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your poem.
    • Keep the end words in order.
    • Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines).
    • The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.

    If you pull a line with six words, your poem would be six lines long. If you pull a stanza with 24 words, your poem would be 24 lines long. And so on.

    If it’s still kind of abstract, read these two poems to see how Terrance Hayes used a Gwendolyn Brooks poem to write the first golden shovel:

    As you can see, the original golden shovel takes more than a line from the poem. In fact, it pulls every word from the Brooks poem, and it does it twice.

    This form is sort of in the tradition of the cento and erasure, but it offers a lot more room for creativity than other poetry found.

    Skipped prompt too weird to wrap my head around

     

    April 25—Care giving

     

    Sam’s  mother

    Died of Alzheimer’s

    In 2007.

     

    She spent the last three years

    Of her life

    In a nursing home.

    In Napa City

     

    About a hundred miles

    From her home

    In Berkeley

     

    Her adult children had to move her

    When it became obvious

    She could no longer

    Manage things on her own.

     

    The saddest thing of all

    Was that she lost the ability

    To read ,

     

    She had always been a huge reader

    And loved discussing what she was reading

    With Sam, her favorite son .

     

    And he loved talking to her

    About what he was reading

    As well.

     

    He last saw her

    When she was

    somewhat lucid

    In 2002.

     

    When he  joined his brothers

    And sister

    In helping  her move

    To the nursing home.

     

    It was one of the saddest days

    Of her life

    And of Sam’s.

     

    But it had to be done

    None of them could

    take care of her.

     

    as she needed full time care

    and none of them

    wanted to do so.

     

    because their mother

     

    was a difficult person

    with a prickly personality.

     

    So they shipped her off

    To the nursing home.

     

    The day she died

    Sam was on his way

    To the nursing home.

     

    Had to beg the management

    To delay shipping her remains

    Until they could get there.

     

    They reluctantly allowed them

    The time to get there

    And see her.

     

    Sam went in and talked with her

    Sam  sensed her spirit all around me

    And I knew that she had held on

    To life.

     

    Until she could see

    Her favorite son.

     

    They buried her in El Cerrito

    Down the street

    From her home.

     

    And every few years

    Sam went to her grave

    And communed

    with her spirit.

     

    sensing that her ghost

    is near by

    listening to him.

    Comments for blog posting

    Review For Poems for April 23 2025
    Chapter 25 of the book April 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Jake, your collection for April 23 offers a rich variety of tone and subject, and there is real pleasure in the movement between them.
    The mocking birds piece is wild and vivid, capturing a surreal sense of menace with a playful edge-the birds cackling in Korean and English is a brilliant, slightly absurd detail.
    Your piece on “reprogramming your mind” is a warm, important counterpoint: it reminds readers (and perhaps yourself) that joy still exists if we choose to seek it, without falling into preachiness.
    The short memory about your house feels quiet and grounded, and the Shakespeare piece is a real highlight: personal, affectionate, and tinged with a sense of time passing.
    Your affection for the classics shines through clearly.
    If anything, the different pieces might feel a little loosely stitched when read together, but as a daily writing project, this kind of natural shift between moods feels entirely fitting.
    A heartfelt and honest set.
    Tim thanks as always

     

     

    Review For Poems for April 23 2025
    Chapter 25 of the book April 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Jake, your collection for April 23 offers a rich variety of tone and subject, and there is real pleasure in the movement between them.
    The mocking birds piece is wild and vivid, capturing a surreal sense of menace with a playful edge-the birds cackling in Korean and English is a brilliant, slightly absurd detail.
    Your piece on “reprogramming your mind” is a warm, important counterpoint: it reminds readers (and perhaps yourself) that joy still exists if we choose to seek it, without falling into preachiness.
    The short memory about your house feels quiet and grounded, and the Shakespeare piece is a real highlight: personal, affectionate, and tinged with a sense of time passing.
    Your affection for the classics shines through clearly.
    If anything, the different pieces might feel a little loosely stitched when read together, but as a daily writing project, this kind of natural shift between moods feels entirely fitting.
    A heartfelt and honest set.
    Tim thanks as always

     

    Substack

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  • April 2025 Poetry Madness April 13 to April 18 Poems

    April 2025 Poetry Madness April 13 to April 18 Poems

    April 2025 Poetry Madness April 13 to April 18 Poems

    audio clip

    You can find my prior April Poems here:

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems
    April Poetry Madness April 21 to APril 25 Poems
    April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems
    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14
    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    PSH April 2023 Poems
    April 20-30 2023 Poems Do Drop In
    April 2023 Poetry Dew Drop In April 11-15
    Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

    April 2023 Dew Drop In Poems
    April 30th, 2022 Poems
    April 29th Poems
    April 26th and April 27th, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems
    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems

    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems</a >

    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems
    April 16 and 17, 2022 Poems

    Enjoy and stay safe, everyone

    Begin Poems 

    April 13 to April 12 poems

     

    April 13  Day Thirteen

      

    NaPoWrMo

     

    World in turmoil

     

    World in turmoil

    Stock market crashing.

    Tariff war heats up.

    World markets crashing.

    This will not end well.

    Recession coming, not end well.

     

    DOGE rampage.

    Slashing government spending.

    Unemployment rising .

    Slashing government spending.

    Govbots fired

    Govbots fired.

     

    Happy Sunday, all – I hope you have an enjoyable thirteenth day of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Our featured participant today is Chronicles of Miss Miseria, where the response to Day Twelve’s symphonic, Stevens-inspired prompt fires on all cylinders.

    Our daily resource is the online collection of the Museu de Arte de São Paulo, founded in 1947 by Brazilian businessman Assis Chateaubriand. Here, you’ll find everything from old masters to mysterious photographs.

    Finally, here’s our prompt for the day (optional, as always). Donald Justice’s poem, “There is a gold light in certain old paintings,” plays with both art and music, and uses an interesting and (as far as I know) self-invented form. His six-line stanzas use lines of twelve syllables, and while they don’t use rhyme, they repeat end words. Specifically, the second and fourth line of each stanza repeat an end-word or syllable; he fifth and sixth lines also repeat their end-word or syllable. Today, we challenge you to write a poem that uses Justice’s invented form.

     

    Donald Justice’s poem, “There is a gold light in certain old paintings,”

    “There is a gold light in certain old paintings”

    By Donald Justice

    1

     

    There is a gold light in certain old paintings

    That represents a diffusion of sunlight.

    It is like happiness, when we are happy.

    It comes from everywhere and from nowhere at once, this light,

    And the poor soldiers sprawled at the foot of the cross

    Share in its charity equally with the cross.

     

    2

     

    Orpheus hesitated beside the black river.

    With so much to look  forward to he looked back.

    We think he sang then, but the song is lost.

    At  least he had seen once more the  beloved back.

    I say the song went this way: O prolong

    Now the sorrow if that is all there is to prolong.

     

    3

     

    The world is very dusty, uncle. Let us work.

    One day the sickness shall pass from the earth for good.

    The orchard will bloom; someone will play the guitar.

    Our work will be seen as strong and clean and good.

    And all that we suffered through having existed

    Shall be forgotten as though it had never existed.

    “govbot” is a perjorative term for government workers popular on the right, dating back to the Clinton era.

    Writer’s Digest Prompt

    Full Moon Madness

     

    Sam Adams

    Was drinking

    In his favorite watering hole

    The Cosmos Bar

    In Soi Cowboy, Bangkok.

     

    Twenty drinks too sober

    He contemplated life.

     

    It was the evening

    Of the pink full moon

    The lunatic light

    Of the moon.

     

    Shown on the street

    Outside the bar

     

    Sam was soon transformed

    Into a demented werewolf

    Ran outside

     

    Howling like an escaped banshee

    At the lunatic light of the full moon

    Shining down on his lost soul.

     

    The Cosmos Bar is a fictional expat bar located in Soi Cowboy, Bangkok.  Soi Cowboy dates back to the Vietnam war era when it was a popular drinking district or expats in Bangkok. Sam Adams is a fictional character that pops up in many of my stories and poems, a distant descendant of the famous Sam Adams, and beer brewer, from the revolutionary war period of US history.

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Full (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Full Moon,” “Full Throttle,” “Full Tank of Gas,” “Full Monty,” and/or “Full Tank of Gas.”

    Here’s my attempt at a Full (blank) Poem:

    “Full Throated,” by Robert Lee Brewer

    I sound my long barbaric yawp
    from every available hilltop
    on my way to the barbershop
    fearing I may never stop
    while sucking on a lollipop
    as the neighbors channel-hop
    and the horses clippity clop
    beside another bumblecop
    which could be a malaprop
    for the use of bumpercrop
    as I find I flip and flop
    like a price at a car swap
    or the head of a wet mop
    stuck inside a karate chop
    falling like a sad raindrop
    into a pond–a frog–kerplop!

    Bonus Full Moon Poem

    Pink Moon Lunar Madness Overcomes Old Man

     

    Pink Moon

    The lunatic light of the pink full moon
    Shinned on a lonely man in the Cosmos Bar
    Who was a lost film star
    Drinking from afar
    The lunatic light of the pink full moon.

    The man was a star
    The light in the bar was bizarre
    They sat there playing the guitar
    The lunatic light of the full moon.

    He thought to himself so far
    Went outside, saw a squad car
    Howling at the moon, looking at a sports car.
    The lunatic light of the pink full moon.

    Poetry Form: DANSA

    Here are the guidelines for writing the dansa:

    Opening quintain (or 5-line stanza) followed by quatrains (or 4-line stanzas)
    The opening line of the first stanza is the final line of every stanza, including the first
    Rhyme scheme in the opening stanza: AbbaA (capital A represents the refrain)
    Rhyme scheme in all other stanzas: bbaA
    No other rules for subject, length, or meter.

    One additional PPC rule for this one: a minimum of 13 lines (3 stanzas per the above rules)

    Poetry Superhighway Prompt

     

    Driving, Walking or Travel Poem

    Walking Along the Fake Venice Canal

    Gimpo Grand Canal
    Gimpo Grand Canal

    I take a walk

    Every day

     

    Along the fake Venice canal

    Near my home

    In Gimpo, Korea.

     

    It is lined with restaurants

    And shops.

     

    And this time of year

    Flowering trees.

     

    There are boats

    For rent as well.

     

    Someday I am going

    To Venice

    As part of a Mediterranean cruise.

     

    And I will walk

    Along a real Venice canal

    And have dinner.

     

    And think about

    The fake canal

    And the real canal.

    Drive (or walk) down a familiar street or block. Pay attention to everything: the condition of the street, the signs, people, cars or other vehicles, and the trees, flowers and grass or lack thereof. Where are you walking? Maybe on a sidewalk or in the grass? Where are you driving? Maybe on a paved road or maybe a dirt or gravel road? Write a poem about traveling down this street.

    Next, do the very same thing but this time go down an unfamiliar street or block. What do you see that’s different? What do you see that’s the same? How does it make you feel to be in an unfamiliar setting vs a familiar one? Write a poem about going down this street you’ve never traveled on before.

    Then take both poems and intersperse the lines from the poem of a street of familiarity to the poem of the street of unfamiliarity to create an overall picture in a poem of traveling the known vs the unknown

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    Dew Drop Inn

    April 13—Greenery

     

    Green Trees Don’t Make It

     

    70 lines


    Everyday
    I look out and see

    The ugly green trees
    Standing guard
    in front of my house.

    And I think to myself
    Who owns the trees?
    And what do they think of us?

    Are we their friends?
    Are we their enemies?
    What do the trees think of us?

    Do they silently watch us,
    Spies to the celestial emperor?

    I have pondered this question
    Many a morning,

    Who is the owner of these trees?
    And why do they silently watch us?

    I wonder if the trees don’t hate us
    And why they don’t protest.

    Every day as we drive back and forth
    Emitting poison gases from our mechanical asses
    Right into their unprotected faces.

    And every night we eat our dinner
    And then give the trees
    Our polluted leftovers

    And laugh as they silently die
    From our acidic fallout
    Constantly floating down on their skin.

    Yes, I wonder about the trees
    And the birds and the bees
    And everyone else.

    What are they thinking?
    Are they plotting revenge?
    Or are they merely there

    Silently, watching, plotting,
    Designing fiendish plots of revenge
    Dreams of vast nuclear destruction.

    Cosmic diseases wiping out everyone in the ass
    Oh Yes, I wonder and dream and ponder
    What is the meaning of those silent green trees?

    Standing on the corner
    Quietly condemning us
    With their quiet tears, and falling leaves.

    In the winter they stand
    Naked and alone
    Covered with ice-cold snow
    As we drive by nice and warm.

    And we don’t care
    As they stand out in the cold
    Shivering, plotting
    warm plans of cosmic revenge.

    Is it too late for us
    To become friends

    with the trees?

    Or will the day come
    When the trees will wake up
    And gather together
    All the other slaves of humanity.

    I have a vision
    One morning I will open the door
    And see an army of wild things
    Coming to arrest me
    For crimes against nature.

    And I will plead, I did not know
    And they will laugh
    and turn me all of my kind
    Into silent tombs,

    And we will stand out in the cold
    Like the green trees
    Plotting dreams of revenge
    For ever and ever.

    Until our day finally comes
    And we can go out
    and kill all the wild things
    Perhaps we already have.

    revised poem I wrote on Earth Day 1976!

    Day Fourteen

    NaPoWriMo

    Florida Criters that can kill you

    Florida is a state

    Of mind

    With many creatures

    Big and small

    That can kill you.

     

    Starting with bears

    gators

    Giant snakes

    And cougars.

     

    Not to mention

    Mosquitos

    That carry malaria

    Dengue and zenke fever.

     

    And other monsters

    Lurking in the swamps

    Of Florida.

     

    Today we are two full weeks into National/Global Poetry Writing Month. Hopefully you’ll all have fourteen poems under your belts by the end of the day and, if not – no worries! You can always catch up (or just cut yourself some slack).

    Today’s featured participant is Glenn Mitchell, who really hit it out of the park with his take on Day Thirteen’s Donald Justic-inspired prompt!

     

    Our featured resource for the day is the online gallery of the Rijksmuseum, where you may particularly enjoy their series on 100 masterpieces within the museum’ s collection. And here’s a little anecdote about how browsing an online collection of this kind can lead you to new and startling discoveries. While taking a peek at the museum’s exhibit regarding Meissen porcelain, I came across this slide show about a particular porcelain macaw, which in turn led me down the rabbit hole of learning about saxon elector and Polish king Augustus the Strong, who “died at the honorable age of sixty-two, his kingdom a financial ruin, with nine children from six different women, and a collection of thirty-five thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight pieces of porcelain.” I feel much less sheepish about my comparatively modest trove of knick-knacks and doo-dads after reading that.

    And with that silliness out of the way, today’s (optional) prompt is inspired by a poem that’s an old favorite of mine, by Kay Ryan.

     Crustacean Island

     

    There could be an island paradise
    where crustaceans prevail.
    Click, click, go the lobsters
    with their china mitts and
    articulated tails.
    It would not be sad like whales
    with their immense and patient sieving
    and the sobering modesty
    of their general way of living.
    It would be an island blessed
    with only cold-blooded residents
    and no human angle.
    It would echo with a thousand castanets
    and no flamencos.

    Ryan’s poem invites us to imagine the “music” of a place without people in it. So today, try writing a poem that describes a place, particularly in terms of the animals, plants or other natural phenomena there. Sink into the sound of your location, and use a conversational tone. Incorporate slant rhymes (near or off-rhymes, like “angle” and “flamenco”) into your poem. And for an extra challenge – don’t reference birds or birdsong!

     

    Writer Digest April 14

     

    How to Lose Weight

     

    They say

    Inside every fat man

    Is a thin man

    Trying to break free.

     

    Since, Janaury 2024

    I have lost

    Almost 15 pounds (7 K).

     

    Dropping from a high

    Of 195 pounds (88 K)

    To a low of 170 pounds  (77 K)

    In about a year or so.

     

    How did I lose

    so much weight

    And most importantly

    Not gain it back?

     

    First I came down

    With a mysterious COVID

    Like illness.

     

    And lost 15 pounds

    In one month

    The doctors could

    Not figure it out.

     

    But ruled out bronchitis

    Cancer, pneumonia

    And TB.

     

    Then I started

    Daily workouts

     

    Including

    Walking up 16 flights

    Of stairs six times

    A day

     

    That

    Along with a strict diet

    And no more daily

    Glass of wine

    Or whisky!

     

    And hitting the gym

    Led me to keep

    the weight off

     

    In any event

    I feel great

    And look great.

     

    Not bad

    For a 69- old man

    I say.

    no set form for this one, sort of a loose narative free verse poem

     

    Whew! We’re two weeks in on this month and this challenge already. Go, us!

    For today’s prompt, write a losing poem. Losing often comes with negative connotations, like losing a game or a family pet or socks (seriously, where do they all disappear to?). However, a person could also lose some weight, bad habits, and/or negativity. Of course, it could be argued these are still negatives (positives via double negatives), but I find I’m starting to lose my train of thought, so it’s probably best to get poeming.

    Here’s my attempt at a Losing Poem:

    “What I’ve Gained,” by Robert Lee Brewer

    There’s nothing I’ve gained
    that I won’t eventually lose;
    not that I know how, but I
    can decipher the clues;
    so I don’t care much about
    all the items I can gain
    when I’ll eventually lose
    and then lose them again:
    better I think is to share
    all the ups and the downs
    with every loser who’ll
    happily keep me around,
    because everything I gain
    I will eventually lose,
    so abide if you can
    to skip having the blues.

     

     

     

    PSH April 14, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Eric Nicholson

     

    May the Force be with You

     

    In the Star Wars universe

    The rebels led by Luke Skywalker

    And Princess Lea

    Are behind the curve.

     

    The imperial storm troopers

    Too powerful

    A force.

     

    All seems lost

    To the rebels.

     

    But the rebels

    Still maintain

    Hope.

     

    That with the force

    With them

    They can overcome.

     

    And defeat

    The dark side

    Of the force.

     

    Represented by Darth Vadar

    Luke Skywalker’s father.

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Eric Nicholson:

     

    Use a series of sequences from a well known film and splice with more nature-based lines. Or political!

    The idea is to either parallel each or contrast. The effect could be sereal, philosophical or lyrical.

    free verse form

     

    Dew Drop Inn April 14—Sky

    Living under a Martian sky

     

    Joe Lewis

    Was one of the first

    Martians.

     

    He immigrated to Mars

    In 2045.

     

    Along with thousands

    Of other refugees.

     

    From an Earth

    That was becoming

    Unihabitable.

     

    Everyone was moving

    Into domed cities

    On earth, the moon

    Or Mars.

     

    Live under the Martian sky

    Was difficult

    But the sunsets

    Were out-of-this-world.

     

    free verse poem

    April 15 Day Fifteen

    NaPoWrMo  Are you ready America?

     

    Are you ready America?

    To combat the rise

    Of Christian fascism?

    That seems to be everywhere

    Are you ready to overcome

    Ready to save country?

     

    Today is the halfway point of National/Global Poetry Writing Month! Hooray for poems!

    Our featured participant today is The Cynical Optimist, where the place-sounds poem for Day Fourteen lets each creature in a particular park have its own solo.

     

    Today’s resource is the online gallery of the National Museum of New Zealand. It’s pretty fun to just search for random words in their search bar, and see what kind of objects and art pop up. For example, I searched the word “butter,” and was presented with this photograph of a bracelet made up of butter and cheese exhibition medals, this stamp celebrating the wonders of butter production,  and a teeny saucepan made for a dollhouse.

     

    And now for our (optional) daily prompt. The MC5 was a 1960s rock band. If you’ve heard anything by them–and you likely have–it’s their 1969 song Kick Out the Jams.

     

    Jesse Crawford, otherwise known as Brother J.C. Crawford, was the band’s stage MC and warm-up man. Below are the words with which he opened a concert in Japan in 1969 (you can find the recording on Spotify/Apple Music as part of the Kick Out the James [Live] [Japan Remastered] album, on the track titled Intro/Ramblin’ Rose).

    Brothers and sisters
    I wanna see a sea of hands out there
    Let me see a sea of hands
    I want everybody to kick up some noise
    I wanna hear some revolution out there, brothers
    I wanna hear a little revolution

    [big pause]

    Brothers and sisters
    The time has come for each and everyone of you to decide
    Whether you are gonna be the problem
    Or whether you are gonna be the solution (that’s right)
    You must choose, brothers, you must choose

    It takes five seconds, five seconds of decision
    Five seconds to realize your purpose here on the planet
    It takes five seconds to realize that it’s time to move
    It’s time to get down with it

    Brothers, it’s time to testify and I want to know
    Are you ready to testify?!
    Are you ready?!
    I give you a testimonial
    The MC5

     

    And now here’s a short little poem by Jane Kenyon:

    The Shirt

    The shirt touches his neck
    and smooths over his back.
    It slides down his sides.
    It even goes down below his belt—
    down into his pants.
    Lucky shirt.

     

    And now for your prompt! While Brother J.C.’s warm-up and Kenyon’s poem might seem very different at first, they’re both informed by repetition, simple language, and they express enthusiasm. They have a sermon/prayer-like quality, and then end with a bang.

    Your challenge is to write a six-line poem that has these same qualities.

    All appreciation to Dawn Potter for this prompt!

    six line poem per prompt

     

    Writers Digest   What Fresh Hell is this Nonet Poem

     

    I start my days, drinking hot black coffee

    Watching morning headlines unfold

    Thinking—what fresh hell is this?”

    What’s wrong with these people

    People disappear

    snatched off the street

    being sent

    straight to

    Hell?

     

    Here we go: Halfway through the month and time for another Two-for-Tuesday prompt.

    For the third Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

    • Write a poetic form poem and/or…
    • Write an anti-form poem.

     

    Criteria

    The nonet poetic form is simple. It’s a 9-line poem that has 9 syllables in the first line, 8 syllables in the second line, 7 syllables in the third line, and continues to count down to one syllable in the final (ninth) line.

    I couldn’t find an origin, but I did learn that the word nonet is used for a group of 9 performers or instruments. So I’m assuming this is one of those poetic forms inspired by music.

     

    April 15, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from John Dorroh

    Ode to My Piano Savior of My Soul

     

    For the last few years

    I have been playing

    The piano.

     

    Everyday from 5 to 6 Pm

    I sit down at the piano

    And play a piece of music

     

    I have been working through

    The classics

    And have finally gotten

     

    To where I can play

    A Mozart Sonata

    And nail it!

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by John Dorroh:

    Look around the room and select an object that speaks to you. If one doesn’t speak to you, pick an object that starts with the letters D, M, C, or P. Write a letter to the object addressing its value to your life. Next, write a letter from the object, expressing its connections, appreciation and/or dissatisfaction with things you have done.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

    no particular form -just four sets of tercets

     

    April 15—Death and taxes

     Benjamin Franklin once wrote,

     

    “There are only two things

    certain In life,

    Death and Taxes!

     

    Someday we all

    May become cyborgs

    becoming immortal.

     

    but sadly,

    I think we will never

    Be able to escape

    The tax man!

     

    April 16, 2025

    NaPoWrM0

    Day Sixteen

    On April 16, 2025

    What is Hip? Tower Of Power Wants to Know!!!!

    The Tower of Power

    Erupted out of the East Bay

    In Northern California

     

    In the late 60s

    And have been playing

    Funk music ever since

     

    They were the sound

    Of the East Bay funk movement

    That predated disco

    Hiphop and rap music

    And Go Go music

    In DC as well

     

    The great funk bands

    Always had a hip as hell

    Attitude

     

    Anchored by a great horn section

    With saxophones on top

     

    And a pounding bass beneath

    Killer keyboards

    And guitars as well

     

    And the rhythm section

    Keep it all going

    To the funky beat

     

    All backup to the soulful ballads

    Of the lead singers

     

    The band

    Was multi-cultural

    Way before that was a thing

     

    Asians, Black, Hispanic

    White players

    Straight, gay and trans folks

    As well.

     

    Playing that funky music

    White boy

    Until the day they die!

     

    Yeah

     

    They had two great hits

    “What is hip”

    Asks the question

    That has no real  answer

     

    “What is hip!”

     

    And the other song

    Was their immortal love song

     

    The greatest make out song

    Of all time

    “You’re Still a Young Man”

     

    The first slow dance

    I ever danced to

    Back in the day

     

    I often wondered

    How many babies

     

    Were conceived

    After listening to

    And dancing

    To that song?

    ode poem to my favorite band growing up.  this inspired me to put together the rest of my Tower of Power tribute poems as a bonus set

    Enjoy

     

    Tower of Power Palindrome

    Tower of Power

    Music
    Soul music
    Funky music
    The Tower of Power
    Fill the air
    The Tower of Power
    Funky music
    Soul music
    Music.

    New Prompt: Write a Palindrome. You can read an example here: “Palindrome”

     

    Our Musical Street


    30 lines

    I grew up
    In a very creative time
    a very musical time.

    The 60’s had the best music
    Mot ruled the Bay Area
    As well as Great rock music

    Acid jazz
    Acid Rock
    Fusion Jazz
    The Grateful Dead
    Mamas and the Papas
    Jefferson Airplane
    Jimmy Hendrix
    last high school
    was Berkeley High School
    Santana

    And so many others

    The best funk band
    Of them all

    Tower of Power
    Beloved by all
    High school students.

    For their immortal classic
    Make out song
    “You’re Still a Young Man.”

    Tower of Power rocked
    Every party in town
    On every street.

    Music flowed.
    On every musical street
    In the city.

    That was Berkeley
    In the 60’s and 70’s.

    Please use the following as the Title of your story or poem:

    “Our Musical Street”

    Please select “Music” as one of your genres.

    Tower of Power is an American R&B and funk-based band and horn section, originating in Oakland, California, that has been performing since 19681. The band has had several lead vocalists, the best known being Lenny Williams, who fronted the band between early 1973 and late 1974, the period of their greatest commercial success1. They have had eight songs on the Billboard Hot 100; their highest-charting songs include “You’re Still a Young Man”, “So Very Hard to Go”, “What Is Hip?”, and “Don’t Change Horses (in the Middle of a Stream)”1.

    The band was formed by tenor saxophonist/vocalist Emilio Castillo and baritone saxophonist Stephen “Doc” Kupka in 19681. The band’s soul sound appealed to both minority and counterculture listeners1. The band’s name was changed to Tower of Power after they agreed that their original name, The Mots, would not help them play at Bill Graham’s Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco1.
    Tower of Power has released 31 albums, including 15 studio albums, 5 live albums, and 11 compilations1. Their most recent album, “Step Up”, was released in 20202.

    Here is a list of some of their most popular songs:

    “You’re Still a Young Man”
    “So Very Hard to Go”
    “What Is Hip?”
    “Don’t Change Horses (in the Middle of a Stream)”
    “Soul Vaccination”
    “This Time It’s Real”
    “Time Will Tell”
    “Only So Much Oil in the Ground”

    If you’re interested in listening to their music, you can check out their official website2.


    “Song at Sunrise”

    In 1974
    When I graduated
    From Berkeley High School
    We went out to party
    All night long.

    We listened to our favorite band
    The Tower of Power
    The greatest funk band
    Of them all.

    Then at sunrise
    Everyone went to Tilden Park
    Inspiration point
    A rare sunny dawn

    The music blaring
    On our radios

    The song at Sunrise
    Was “What is hip”

    And ‘You’re Still a Young Man
    the greatest “make out the song”
    of all time.

    No doubt babies
    Were conceived
    That night
    To that song track.

    For those who don’t know the TOP started in the late 60’s and is still going strong almost 5o years later. They are the best funk band ever, and they are the soul of the San Francisco East Bay area (Berkeley, Freemont, Oakland, Richmond, and towns in between). They were multicultural before that was a thing. They have the best horn section of any funk band, great guitar players, keyboard players, drummers, and of course great singers. Their best songs were the iconic “What is Hip”, and “You’re Still a Young Man,” one of the best make-out songs of all time. No doubt many babies were conceived to that song! The first song I ever slowly danced to, and a song I played to seduce my wife when we met.

    Based loosely on the classic Tower of Power Song, “What is hip?”

    What Is Hip Lyrics

    [Verse 1]

    So ya wanna dump out yo’ trick bag
    Ease on in a hip thang
    But you ain’t exactly sure what is hip
    So you started to let your hair grow
    Spent big bucks on your wardrobe
    Somehow, ya know there’s much more to the trip

    [Chorus]
    What is hip?
    Tell me, tell me, if you think you know
    What is hip?
    If you’re hip
    The question, “Will it show?”
    You’re into a hip trip
    Maybe hipper than hip
    What is hip?
    [Verse 2]
    You became a part of a new breed
    Been smoking’ only the best weed
    Hangin’ out with the so-called “Hippie set.”
    Seen in all the right places
    Seen with just the right faces
    You should be satisfied, but it ain’t quite right

    [Chorus]
    What is hip?
    Tell me, tell me, if you think you know
    What is hip?
    If you’re hip
    The question, “Will it show?”
    You’re into a hip trip
    Maybe hipper than hip
    What is hip?

    [Break]
    Come on

    [Refrain]
    Hipness is. What it is
    Hipness is. What it is
    Hipness is. What it is
    Sometimes hipness is, what it ain’t

    You’re Still a Young Man

    Baby, Oo oo, don’t waste your time
    You’re still a young man
    Baby, Oo oo, don’t waste your time

    Down on my knees
    Oh, heart in hand
    I was accused of being too young

     

    But I’m not so young
    I could make you happy
    I’m not a bad man

    You’re too young to love (If you and I could be together)
    You’re too young to love (I’ll never leave you alone baby)
    You’re too young Ooo Ooo (No I won’t sweet lady)
    Don’t waste your time

    The damage is done
    You see that you were wrong
    You wake up wondering just
    How well I’ve done

    Well I’ve done alright
    Yes there are some girls but you know
    I dropped them on sight

    Just for you
    Because I love you

    You’re still a young man
    Baby, Oo oo, don’t waste your time

    (Someday you’ll understand just what it means when a man
    Comes to you with his little heart in his hands
    Just to love you)

    Don’t waste your time

    You better listen to me

    Sayin that I’m loving you yeah hey now baby tryin to tell
    You that it’s you you you you you you you you talkin to you
    Baby, I’ll never never never never I’ll do you
    No wrong no no lady if you would check my stuff out one time haha

    Just to hold you, to squeeze you and all I wanna do is to
    Get next to you and please please please you baby
    See where I’m coming from!

    Written by legendary sax players Emilio Castillo and Stephen Kupka, the song portrays a young man at the wrong end of a breakup. The situation is bleak because his lover pins the break-up on an age difference. In an interview with Songfacts Castillo said:

    It’s based on a true story. I had a girlfriend that was six years older than me. I was 18, she was 24 and that’s actually what happened. She had kind of cut me loose because of the age difference thing and the whole plea in the story is the young guy’s saying, ‘I’m not too young, I’m not wasting my time and I do love you as a man can truly love a woman.’”

    The song would go on to be the band’s first major hit defining their sound with a prominent horn section inspired by Curtis Mayfield:

    “On that album, there’s a song called “A Woman’s Love” that starts with beautiful trumpets high. When we heard that we wanted to write a song with a great trumpet intro like that. – TowerofPower.com

    “Street Party”

    Many years ago
    In the Berkeley and Oakland
    In the East bay, back in the day
    In the fabled 60s, early 70s.

    There were often legendary pop-up
    Flash mob type impromptu street parties
    Where everyone gathered around
    Digging the scene and each other.

    Drinking, smoking weed
    Jiving, flirting, dancing
    Getting down to the sweet sound
    Of Tower of Power and Motown.

    Whites, blacks, Asians, Hispanics
    Men, women, and those in-between
    Gays, straight
    Young, old, middle age

    It did not matter
    Everything was everything
    Everything was cool.
    It was all good.

    It was all cool back in the day
    An interracial gathering
    Of shared humanity,
    Just celebrating life.

    But this was before
    Guns became so common
    Before things got so violent
    And evil s… became the norm

    Back in the day
    It was a peaceful happening
    A true love fest
    Those days are so yesterday.

    Nowadays, people are afraid
    A street party festival
    Will end up guns blazing wild west style
    The festival will end up with many people
    Going to an early grave.

     

    Happy Wednesday, all. We hope you’re having a fine beginning to the second half of April.

    Our featured participant today is A Rhyme a Day, where the MC5/Jane Kenyon-inspired poem for Day Fifteen packs a lot of punch into six short lines.

    Today’s resource is the Museum of Photographic Art, which is part of the San Diego Museum of Art. Through the museum’s online collection, you can explore a number of current and past exhibitions, including a series of portraits by Bern Schwartz (I rather like the one of Ralph Ellison) and a group of very painterly compositions by Lynn G. Fayman.

    And now for our optional prompt! The Kay-Ryan-inspired prompt for Day Fourteen asked you to take inspiration from the sounds of the natural world. Today’s prompt twists that idea around a bit. Start by taking a look at this poem by James Schuyler.

     

     FAURÉ’S SECOND PIANO QUARTET

    On a day like this the rain comes
    down in fat and random drops among
    the ailanthus leaves—“the tree
    of Heaven”—the leaves that on moon-
    lit nights shimmer black and blade-
    shaped at this third-floor window.
    And there are bunches of small green
    knobs, buds, crowded together. The
    rapid music fills in the spaces of
    the leaves. And the piano comes in,
    like an extra heartbeat, dangerous
    and lovely. Slower now, less like
    the leaves, more like the rain which
    almost isn’t rain, more like thawed-
    out hail. All this beauty in the
    mess of this small apartment on
    West Twentieth in Chelsea, New York.
    Slowly the notes pour out, slowly,
    more slowly still, fat rain falls.

    Like Kay Ryan’s poem, this one invites us to imagine music in the context of a place, but more along the lines of a soundtrack laid on top of the location, rather than just natural sounds.  Today, try writing a poem that similarly imposes a particular song on a place. Describe the interaction between the place and the music using references to a plant and, if possible, incorporate a quotation – bonus points for using a piece of everyday, overheard language.

    Happy writing!

    Writer’s Digest April 16 Something Fantastic

     Narnia Beckons Me Haiku Sonnet

     

    Narnia beckons

    it is real, lives in our dreams

    where we can see it.

     

    Old CS Lewis

    wrote a true fairy tale

    ripped from his dream.s.

     

    so visit Narnia

    battle the evil white witch

    and meet Aslan

     

    Narnia waiting

    Go and be their King.

     

    Wow! So many forms for poems yesterday. That was fun! And yay to Gary Crane for being the first to guess the inspiration for the acrostic in my sestina yesterday (click here to hear Chris Bell’s “I Am the Cosmos” on YouTube). Forms are completely optional today.

    For today’s prompt, write a “something fantastic” poem. As with all the prompts, you can come at this from any direction you’d like, but what inspired me to create this prompt are the fantastic works of magical realists and poems like Donald Hall’s “On Reaching the Age of Two Hundred.” So if you feel compelled to do the same, great; however, it is no small accomplishment to write any fantastic poem, even if it’s about finding an extra piece of pie in the refrigerator.

     

    The basic premise of the haiku sonnet is simple: 4 3-liner haiku plus a couplet of either 5 or 7 syllables adds up to 14 lines, the same number of lines found in a sonnet. The only mention of this form that I’ve been able to find is a poet named David Marshall.

     Note:  I am a big fan of the CS Lewis Narnia Stories. Re-read the Lion, the Witch and Wardrobe in Spanish and have a Korean langauge version to read one of these days on my Kindle Wish list.

      

    April 16, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Mike Dailey

    A Thug Cinquain Poem

    A thug

    International

    Started in Colombia

    Murdering those he worked for

    Really

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Mike Dailey:

    Pick up the book nearest to you. Turn to page 77, 3rd paragraph and use one of those sentences as your opening or closing line.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    Cinquain. Popular five-liner.

    So I’m happy to share the cinquain, which is a nifty five-line poetic form from Adelaide Crapsey. Inspired by tanka, the cinquain is comprised of 2 syllables in the first line, 4 in the second line, 6 in the third, 8 in the fourth, and 2 in the fifth. Plus, poets have the freedom to add or subtract one syllable from each line.

    “an international thug who got his start in Colombia”

    Source: Janet Evanovich and Lee Goldberg The Job Page 77 3rd paragraph

    Dew Drop Inn April 16—Friends

    Zoom Buddies

     

    We have been having

    A weekly zoom gab fest

    For a number of years now

     

    Everyone is someone

    I have know for more

    That 50 years

     

    Re-united through zoom

    Our weekly chats

    Keep me sane

    Alive and fills

    Me with joy

     

     

    Best Friend for 65 years    

     

    I have known Robert S.

    Since the first grade

     

    over 60 years

    Sharing life’s journeys

     

    Introduced me.

    To demon rum

    and weed.

     

    Was there when.

    I dreamt of my wife

    .

    and there during

    my 14 operations

    and will be

    until the end.

     

    My Memory Bank

     

    Matt and I met

    in Latin class

    in the 9th grade.

     

    He managed.

    In my first election,

    as BHS president.

     

    He knows most of my secrets.

    and reminds me of my past misdeeds,

    Keeping me humble and alive.

     

    Robert C

     

     

    Robert C

    And I have been friends

    Since high school days

     

    Lost touch for a while

    Glad to reconnect

    We still find each other

    Amusing as hell

     

    Mark K

     

    Another high school classmate

    Lost touch for a while

    Reconnecting feels great

     

    He is a tech guy

    And I have learned

    A lot from him

     

    Wish I was in touch

    with him

    When I was doing

    a tech support jog

    at the State Department

     

    We share the same birthday

    But I am one year older

    That does not matter

    In the grand scheme

    Of things

     

    Tony R

     

    Another high school friend

    Went separate ways

    Reconnecting on zoom

     

    I find his wry sense

    Of humor

    Refreshing

     

    Keeps me humble

    And down to earth

     

    Day Seventeen

    NaPoWrMo Prompt

    The Aliens Reveal their Secret Plans

    Sam Adams retired in Berkeley
    And opened a UFO theme bar near campus.

    Where he put up a sign on the door
    Space aliens drink for free provided they can prove it.

    Because every night some joker tried
    They would walk in, demanding a free drink or two.

    One night his former bosses walked in
    Maria Lee and mysterious Smith

    Shadow warriors hush hush past
    They lived in the shadow world, they were ghosts, spooks, spies.

    They had retired from the government
    To open the Cosmos Institute X-files.

    Both of them had a pan-ethnic look
    Both could pass for almost any ethnic group or race.

    Maria Lee was vaguely Asian
    Smith looked like he was an Eastern European man.

    Both had a vaguely non-human look
    And both spoke with a strange unusual accent.

    Smith was only known by last name
    No one knew his real name or his past history.

    They refused to talk about their past life
    Saying it was all classified top-secret need-to-know stuff.

    But someday perhaps Sam would need to know it
    Sam also worked with them before in their prior life

    They said they were there for the free drink
    And it was time for Sam to know the truth about them and the world

    Sam told them well you have to prove it
    That you are in fact space aliens can you show me that

    Maria morphed into Donald Trump
    And Smith morphed into Elon Musk and then men in black

    Before shifting back to their real selves
    Reptilian creatures from the planet Sirius

    Maria was green color and Smith was red
    And then back to Maria and Mr. Smith again

    Sam smiled and gave them their free drinks
    And they told him everything about their real past lives

    They revealed many secrets that night
    The end of the beginning the beginning of the end

    Backstory

    The fictional Cosmos Institute appears in a lot of my stories and poems. It was founded in Berkeley by Maria Lee and Mr. Smith, who were high-level former intel operatives. The mission of the institute was to investigate paranormal phenomena, usually to debunk the claims. They considered themselves the real X-files. They recruited Sam Adams to join them because they knew he was an expert on UFOs, having worked on the Majestic project and Area 51 – spoiler alert, there were no real aliens! Sam opened the fictional UFO bar with the famous sign “Aliens drink for free,” hoping that someday real aliens would reveal themselves to him. Then one day his former bosses, the mysterious Maria Lee and Mr. Smith, passed his challenge and told him the real deal over their free drinks.

    For the challenge of the prompt, I picked a painting by Carrington, showing space aliens, and a painting by Varo, showing a shapeshifter.

    The belief that there are secret shape-shifting reptilians living among us up to no good is a common theme in science fiction, and 10 percent of Americans believe it to be true. I have written a number of stories and poems about this theme. My aliens are descendants of the colonizers of Atlantis, who destroyed Atlantis and Lemuria in a world war over the question of what to do with humans. The red team wanted to continue to enslave them; the green team wanted to free them and civilize them, eventually granting them full rights. Their descendants continued to fight this battle in the shadow world.

    Criteria

     

    Landay. Poem comprised of self-contained couplets.Landay Poems

    The landay is a variable length form based off a couplet, which means the poem could be as concise as two lines or run on for several pages. The form most likely originated with nomads in the area of Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India (read an article on Afghan landays here).

    Here are the basic rules of the landay:

    • Poem comprised of self-contained couplets–as few as one couplet will do
    • 9 syllables in the first line; 13 syllables in the second line
    • Landays tend to reveal harsh truths using wit
    • Themes include love, grief, homeland, war, and separation

     Note: There is not a specific rhyme pattern for this form, though lines tend to end on the sounds of “na” and “ma” in the original Pashto. However, this is difficult to replicate in English. Keep in mind that landays are often sung.

    Welcome back, everyone, for the seventeenth day of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Today’s featured participant is Words with Ruth, where the soundtrack-inspired poem for Day Sixteen uses repetition, along with simple and conversational language, to convincingly recreate a moment in space and time.

     

    Chopin’s Prelude no 4 in E Minor

    Posted byrubarbcoughApril 16, 2025Posted inPoems

    You had a futon on your floor
    A double futon on your floor
    We lay a lot on that futon on the floor
    Choosing sex over food
    Like you do when you first discover sex
    And you had a piano in your room
    You’d play and look round out me
    Sticking your tongue out a little, through your teeth
    As if to say, “I want you,
    And later, I’ll have you.”
    And you did
    We had a lot of sex on that futon on the floor
    Then we’d go and chill with your mum and her boyfriend
    And sometimes the dog would come in to see us too
    Funny, I can’t remember much of your room
    Other than the futon
    The double futon on the floor
    You taught me Chopin’s prelude in e minor
    It took me months to nearly learn it
    Not like you
    Playing the piano like honey
    Turning round to kiss me
    And still playing
    You showed me how to have sex
    Not that I’d never had sex before
    But I’d never enjoyed it
    You showed me how to enjoy it
    And it was good
    Oh my God, it was good!
    Being with you was so good
    Orgasm after orgasm
    Rolling through me
    Rolling through us
    I didn’t know that was possible
    You said you could see them in me
    They had different colours
    That’s why it was so good with you
    You could see everything
    Too much maybe
    Yeah, maybe that was it
    You saw things that weren’t there
    Like affairs I wasn’t having
    With friends, colleagues, anyone really
    And then it would go on and on and on
    Me pleading with you
    You calling me a liar
    Hitting our heads against a brick wall
    On and on
    Until I couldn’t do it anymore
    And then it got a bit scary really
    But we don’t need to go into that
    It’s ok
    It was ok.
    A therapist once said to me,
    ‘It’s not possible to have good sex
    In a bad relationship’
    But she’s wrong

    Our resource today is Oxford’s Ashmolean Museum, where you can find a smug ceramic pelican, a samurai’s ceremonial suit of armor, and a photograph of the French impressionist painter Camille Pissarro dressed as a Venezuelan herdsman.

    And now for our daily optional prompt. The surrealist painters Remedios Varo and Leonora Carrington moved to Mexico during the height of World War II, where they began a life-long friendship. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem themed around friendship, with imagery or other ideas taken from a painting by Carrington, and a painting by Varo.

     

    Robert Brewer The Cities Light Up Beneath Our Plane Landlay

    the cities light up beneath our plane
    on the left as the sun retreats from us on the right

    the moon appears in rivers below
    & then disappears like our fragile first encounters

    we both flinched at our first touch but then
    crashed back together as if that’s what held us aloft

    i’m not sure why some cities still burn
    while others dissolve quietly into the darkness

    Writer’s Digest – Seoul New Queen City of Asia

    Seoul New Queen City of Asia

    Now one of the hip go to places

    Top tourist spot in all of Eurasia

    Seoul New Queen City of Asia

    A place for any occasion

    A city with many faces

    Seoul New Queen City of Asia

    Now one of the hip go to places

     

     

     

    Here’s a diagram of the triolet:

     

    A (first line)
    B (second line)
    a (rhymes with first line)
    A (repeat first line)
    a (rhymes with first line)
    b (rhymes with second line)
    A (repeat first line)
    B (repeat second line)

    For today’s prompt, write a city poem. The poem can take place in a big city, medium-sized city, smaller city. Heck, towns, villages, hamlets, etc., all work as well. Ghost towns? Why not! I’m not going to break out a census on your poeming. Just write!

     

    Poetry Superhighway  April 17, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Robert Wynne

     

    The Door Opens

     

    In Tilden Park high in the Berkeley Hills

    a Door

    ancient redwood with a sign above it

    opens

    The sign reads for Madmen Ony

    East Bay

    Sam Adams wondered where it went

    portal

    only one way to find out

    Jumped through

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Robert Wynne:

     

    Describe a specific door, real or imaginary. Be detailed enough that the reader will have an inclination why you chose this door, but don’t say why directly. Let them find their way.

    Waltmarie. Candace Kubinec invention

    • 10 lines
    • Even lines are two syllables in length, odd lines are longer (but no specific syllable count)
    • Even lines make their own mini-poem if read separately

    Poetic Form Fridays are made to share various poetic forms. This week, we look at the Waltmarie poetic form invented by Candace Kubinec, along with two of her examples.

    This week, a Poetic Asides member shared a poetic form she created. While I don’t usually share nonce forms, I’ve tried this one myself, and I think it’s a lot of fun. So without further ado, I’m introducing Candace Kubinec’s form, the Waltmarie (which is itself a nod to PA members and Poetic Bloomings hosts, Marie Elena Good and Walter J. Wojtanik).

    Here are the guidelines for writing the Waltmarie:

    • 10 lines
    • Even lines are two syllables in length, odd lines are longer (but no specific syllable count)
    • Even lines make their own mini-poem if read separately

    No other rules for subject or rhymes.

     

    Here are two examples of the Waltmarie by Candace Kubinec:

    Building a Snowman, by Candace Kubinec

     

    They waited for the world to turn white –
    frozen
    Rolled balls of snow, bigger and bigger –
    child-size
    Broken twigs from the apple tree for arms, two hands –
    mittens
    He stood, smiling his pebble smile, until the warm sun appeared –
    dripping
    Then slowly disappeared, until only a memory remained –
    stories

    *****

     

    On the Bench at Night, by Candace Kubinec

     

    I sit as still as a human can –
    patient
    The sun has set and dusk has settled –
    quiet
    I try to match my breath to the gentle breeze –
    calmly
    Small creatures emerge from daylight hiding places –
    searching
    And my heart sends out a quiet message –
    for you

    .

    April 17—Teeth

     

    Dental Torture Blues

     

    Sitting in the dental chair

    Undergoing dental surgery

    While the dentist probes

    And tortures me

    With his instruments of pain

     

    The Frank Zappa song

    plays over and over in my head

    “The torture never stops

    The torture never stops”

     

    And I think of the mad dentist

    In Little House of Horrors

    The Jack Nicolson character

    Who screams Pain is good

     

    As he assaults his patients

    Doing root canals

    Without anesthesia

     

    And so I endure the torture

    Of the dentist

    In the vain hope

    I can save my teeth

     

    Until the next time

    I undergo dental torture

    The song faces away

    And I slowly recover

     

    Then as I leave

    I am confronted with the bill

    And the song roars back to life

     

    “The torture never stops

    the torture never stops”

     

     

    Day Eighteen

    NaPoWrMo April 18 Prompt

    Driving while Listening to  Tower of Power’s “What is Hip?”

     

    One day, while I was driving in Oakland

    I listened to the Tower of Power

    Funk Band

     

    The radio, playing the song “What is hip?”

    I sang along with the refrain, “What is hip?”

    Funk Band

     

    That night at a party in Berkeley

    Slow danced to “You’re Still a Young Man”

    Funk band

     

    Note: third Ode to my favorite band East Bay’s Own Tower of Power

    We’re three Fridays down, with just one left to go in this year’s National/Global Poetry Writing Month!

    Our featured participant for the day is Poems by Sidra, where the surrealist-inspired poem of friendship for Day Seventeen rocks some fantastic similes — it’s all about those teeth!

     

    And Then— And Then—

    And then we will sit at a table with floating fruit
    and share inside jokes so layered
    in innuendo and self-reference
    that they grow their own teeth.

    Yes, and then I will paint, and you can draw,
                   and we will feed our work the secret blood
    of our hearts and we will tell each other,
            “Make it weirder. Make it stranger.”

    And then I will become a ghost
    and you will become an owl
    and we will fly together in the dark night.

    Yes, and then I’ll be a lady of fire
                   and you can be a lady of stone,
    and we can frighten away the men who try to talk to us.

    Yes, exactly, and then together we will be
    animal-people on the prowl, red
    and dangerous and beautiful, never growing
    old, never growing tired.

    And we will protect each other?

    Yes, we will protect each other.

    Note: This poem is inspired by the works and friendship of Surrealist artists Leonora Carrington and Remedios Varo.

    Today’s resource is a virtual visit to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Gardner, who died in 1924, was a devoted and very wealthy art collector who built a Venetian-style palace (in Boston) to house her treasures. The museum building is beautiful and well known for its gorgeous courtyard. But the Gardner is also well known for having been the unfortunate site of one of the greatest – and still unsolved – art heists of all time. If you can figure out whodunnit, there might be $10 million in it for you.

    And now for today’s (optional) prompt. Like our villanelle prompt from a week ago, this prompt plays around with song lyrics, but in a very specific context – singing while riding in a car. Take a look at Ellen Bass’s poem, “You’re the Top.” Now, craft your own poem that recounts an experience of driving/riding and singing, incorporating a song lyric

    Ellen Bass

    Last night I get all the way to Ocean Street Extension, squinting through the windshield, wipers smearing the rain, lights of the oncoming cars half-blinding me. The baby’s in her seat in the back singing the first three words of You’re the Top. Not softly and sweetly the way she did when she woke in her crib, but belting it out like Ethel Merman. I don’t drive much at night anymore. And then the rain and the bad wipers. But I tell myself it’s too soon to give it up. Though the dark seems darker than I ever remember. And as I make the turn and head uphill, I can’t find the lines on the road. I start to panic. No! Yes—the lights! I flick them on and the world resolves. My god, I could have killed her. And I’ll think about that more later. But right now new galaxies are being birthed in my chest. There are no gods, but not everyone is cursed every moment. There are minutes, hours, sometimes even whole days when the earth is spinning 1.6 million miles around the sun and nothing tragic happens to you. I do not have to enter the land of everlasting sorrow. Every mistake I’ve made, every terrible decision—how I married the wrong man, hurt my child, didn’t go to Florence when she was dying—I take it all because the baby is commanding, “Sing, Nana.” And I sing, You’re the top. You’re the Coliseum, and the baby comes in right on cue.

    The Dixdeux appears to be one of many forms developed as an alternative to the Japanese Haiku. In this case, there are three lines with syllable counts of 10, 10, 2. When written in multiple stanzas, the third line becomes a refrain, as described and demonstrated in the following links:

    https://popularpoetryforms.blogspot.com/2013/11/dixdeux.html

     

    Writer’s Digest April 18 Gogyohka. 5-liner developed by Enta Kusakabe.

     

    Deportation Blues Gogyohka

     

    Every day, there is sad news about deportations

    People legally here are told to leave in seven days

    People deported to El Salvador based on having a tattoo

    Foreign students snatched off the streets

    Foreigners are afraid to visit the US – this will not end well.

     

    For today’s prompt, write a response poem. In many ways, every poem is a response poem as it’s a response to something, even if it’s that hard-to-explain sense of inspiration many poets feel. For the purposes of this prompt, your poem could respond to a story in the news (or just a fictional story, for that matter), a conversation you overheard in public (also called eavesdropping), or another poem (written by you or another poet).

    If only a poetic form existed that could be both concise and free. Oh wait a second, there’s gogyohka!

    Gogyohka was a form developed by Enta Kusakabe in Japan and translates literally to “five-line poem.” An off-shoot of the tanka form, the gogyohka has very simple rules: The poem is comprised of five lines with one phrase per line. That’s it.

    *****

     

    So it’s a little loose, which is kind of the theory behind gogyohka. It’s meant to be concise (five lines) but free (variable line length with each phrase). No special seasonal or cutting words. No subject matter constraints. Just five lines of poetic phrases.

    Robert Brewer “Halloween”

     

    Ghosts hang
    from the willow
    as the children run
    from one door
    to the next.

    PSH Prompt  April 18, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Robert Lail

    When Lightning Strikes Ghosts Zappai

     

    When lightning strikes

    Ghosts, being dead, do not die

    Immortal spirits?

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Robert Lail:

    Write a poem that answers the age-old question: What happens when a ghost is struck by lightning?

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    Zappai poems are like haiku, but not. Or maybe more appropriately, they’re like senryu, but not (or maybe they are). This poetic form definition may sound kind of wishy-washy, but zappai are poems that have a 5-7-5 syllable pattern that do not contain the seasonal reference expected of haiku.

    In other words, zappai are all those haiku people write that haiku poets recognize as not being haiku. Again, senryu could fit this definition as well, but senryu also can have a looseness with the syllables, much like haiku, so that 17 syllables are not mandatory.

    Zappai should still be poetic, but they’re 5-7-5 poems that don’t include the seasonal reference. Final answer. I think.

    April 18—Good Friday

     

    Trigger warning:   this could be considered offensive to some people.  That was not my attempt, and I apologize to anyone who does take offense. The point of the poem is to express why I am not a Christian, although there are elements of Christianity that I admire, I reject all the supernatural rigamarole associated with the faith, and I reject the idea that the Bible is the work of God.  Everyone is entitled to their opinion, this is mine.  It is important that we all remain open to dialogue with others of different faith traditions. Freedom of religion means that people are free to believe or not believe in religions as they see fit.

     

    Why I am Not A Christian

     

    On Easter Sunday, I often think about Christianity

    I don’t understand why anymore

    would believe such nonsense

     

    The essential story makes no sense

    An imaginary all-powerful deity

    that no one has ever seen or heard

     

    Except for psychotic patients

    Or drug users

    Comes down to earth

    and impregnates a married woman

     

    Who has never had sex for some reason

    And her husband is okay with that

    Believes her wild story

     

    And still does not have sex

    Until after the baby is born

     

    Then there is total silence

    Nothing about Jesus’s childhood

     

    30 years later, he emerges

    Preaching love, peace, and brotherhood

    And denouncing the corrupt temple leaders

    And the Jewish leaders as well

     

    The miracles also don’t make any sense

    In the real world, you can’t turn fish into bread

    Can’t walk on water

    Can raise the dead etc. etc.

     

    Just does not happen

    In the world we live in

    And has not happened

    since those ancient days

     

    Then the last supper

    makes some sense

    Jesus knows he is

    about to be betrayed

     

    But he does not

    confront Judas

     

    Does not run away

    Does not encourage

    his disciplines

    To run away with him

     

    The whole Jesus Mary M story

    Also, does not make sense

     

    Jesus must have been married

    Or he was gay

     

    There is no doubt

    Either way,

    the story makes no sense

     

    The crucifixion

    is the only part of the story I buy

    Jesus was put to death

    because he was a rebel leader

     

    And the Romans

    tolerated no dissent

    To the Roman’s right

    to conquer and rule

     

    The rising from

    the dead stories

    All contradict one another

     

    And Jesus was either walking

    as a normal human being

    Or was a ghost

     

    The door was rent open

    as if by lightening

    Or not

     

    Finally, we have been waiting

    over 2,000 years for his return

     

    You would think

    if the story is remotely true

     

    He would have

    turned up by now

    Except he has

    As many lunatics

    claim to be Jesus

    in the flesh

     

    including sadly

    My college roommate

    Who thought he was Jesus Christ

    returned to earth

     

    After he fried his brain

    on LSD

     

     

    all delusional of course

    and that is what

    I think of Christianity

     

    nothing but fairy tales

    and mass delusions

    surrounding a kernel of truth

     

    Love one again

    Treat each other right

    Don’t be consumed with greed

     

    But couldn’t that message

    Be made simpler

    Without all

    The associated nonsense?

     

    And the Bible

    Needs serious editing

    Way too long

     

    Too many begets

    Pages and pages of them

    Who cares?

     

    Too confusing,

    Too many contradictions

    sexist too

     

    Too violent

    Too unforgiving in spots

     

    And too many

    onerous rules

    That don’t make

    a lot of sense

     

    Who gives a flying f?

    Just saying

     

    So, on this day

    I say

    Open your minds

     

    And discard

    The nonsensical elements

    of Christian thought

     

    And follow the

    True teachings of Jesus

     

    Love one another

    Be kind to strangers

    Don’t be greedy

     

    Commit a random act

    Of kindness every day

     

    Even if you don’t believe

    in the imaginary man in the sky

     

    Commentary from Fan story writers

    Review For Poems for April 18 2025
    Chapter 19 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Jake, this is a fascinating mosaic of poetic entries-each with its own flavour, yet clearly coming from a consistent voice that blends scepticism, social observation, and playfulness.
    The Tower of Power piece is a groovy micro-memoir, succinct and grounded in musical nostalgia. The Seoul entry reads like a tourism jingle with a fun, rhythmic echo-clever in how it loops back on itself to reinforce the point.
    Your zappai is short and sharp, toeing the line between playful and philosophical-“Ghosts, being dead, do not die” is the kind of dry humour I enjoy in these forms.
    Then there’s Why I am Not A Christian, which shifts gears entirely. It’s long, raw, and provocative-structured more like a stream-of-thought monologue than a polished poem.
    It’s unflinching in its critiques, full of personal disbelief, and though it risks alienating some readers, there’s no denying the clarity of conviction. It could use some trimming for focus and flow, but the honesty hits hard.
    A bold, eclectic set.
    Tim


    ~Dovey

    13 hours ago

    Review For Poems for April 18 2025
    Chapter 19 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Hi Jake!

    I am glad to see that you are keeping on track with NaPoWriMo. I hope you are enjoying the poem a day as much as I am.

    Although, my belief is in Christianity, I appreciate your poem stating your stance.

    Kim

    Review For April 17 2025 Poems
    Chapter 18 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Jake, this was a joyride through conspiracy, comedy, and sci-fi noir, all told with a straight face and a wink.
    The Aliens Reveal their Secret Plans has the cadence of a beat poem mashed with pulp fiction and served in a UFO bar run by someone who’s absolutely seen things.
    The repeated use of line breaks and staccato sentences creates a rhythmic, almost spoken-word quality-fitting for a tale that reads like it’s being told over shots of something green and glowing.
    There’s brilliant absurdity here: Maria morphing into Trump, Smith into Musk, the reptilian reveal, and that perfect deadpan closing: “The end of the beginning the beginning of the end.”
    It’s self-aware without becoming cynical. And it’s surprisingly grounded by the image of Sam-a retired man running a theme bar-being the steady anchor in this cosmic unraveling.
    The accompanying pieces-your Narnia haiku sonnet, the redwood portal in The Door Opens, and the grim hilarity of Dental Torture Blues-form a surreal triptych around it.
    They’re all laced with that same blend of the mythic, the mundane, and the slightly unhinged.
    Outlandish, deadpan, and wildly original-Jake, your poems don’t just bend genres, they build bonfires out of them.
    Tim

    Kahlani
    Review For April 17 2025 Poems
    Chapter 18 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I was intrigued by the “Alien” story and was pleased when you clarified things in your notes. The synopsis for your books sounds very intriguing. Are you selling them on Amazon? Thank you for sharing.

    Michael Ludwinder
    Review For APril 16 2025 Poems
    Chapter 17 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Thanks for sharing so many poems at once. It was like flipping through a journal full of good music. I love your deep thoughts and how you shared old pals.

     
     Tim Margetts

     

    Review For APril 16 2025 Poems
    Chapter 17 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Jake, this is a full-on poetic mixtape-part musical history, part memory reel, part experiment station.
    The Tower of Power tribute sets the tone perfectly: pulsing, playful, and unapologetically funky.
    You don’t just describe the music-you celebrate it, and that joy comes through loud and clear. The jump from that into sharply political reflection (What fresh hell is this?) gives the whole set depth and range.
    I really liked the blunt edge of the thug cinquain-minimalist but brutal-and then the emotional turn in the Zoom and memory pieces hit nicely.
    There’s something quietly beautiful about lifelong friendships surviving into the digital age, and you honour them without sentimentality.
    The casual tone masks just how much ground you’re covering here-musical legacy, personal history, poetry forms, political unease-all in one go.
    If I had a 6 left, I’d be tempted, but I’m all out.
    Tim

    Tim Margetts

     

    Review For April 15 2025 Poems
    Chapter 16 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Good

    Jake, this collection of prompt responses has a candid, conversational tone that feels very you-there’s humour, honesty, and a kind of grounded directness that works well across the different pieces. Let’s break them down briefly:
    “Are you ready, America?”
    This one is raw and confrontational in a good way-topical and emotionally charged. It reads like the start of a larger political poem. My one suggestion: push for more specific imagery or language beyond the rhetorical questions. Right now, it’s a solid call, but grounding it in something visceral-an image, a moment, a symbol-would really elevate it.
    “Ode to My Piano Savior of My Soul”
    There’s real warmth and personal pride here. The pacing is steady and reflective, and the ending-“And nail it!”-is joyous and affirming. It’s casual in tone, but that suits the subject. If anything, consider expanding on the emotional impact a bit more. What does the piano save you from?
    “April 15 Death and Taxes”
    Witty and very much in the spirit of the prompt. The shift to cyborg immortality is unexpected and fun, and the punchline about taxes still finding us is classic. You might consider adding a stanza break or two to help the humour land more cleanly, but overall this one’s charming and memorable.
    In all three, your voice comes through clear as day-earnest, clever, and unafraid to mix reflection with lightness.
    A few tweaks for rhythm and depth, and these will sing.
    Tim

    View 1 Reply


    Michael Ludwinder

    3 days ago

    Review For April 15 2025 Poems
    Chapter 16 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I really enjoyed your poems today! Your poem “Are you ready, America?”
    made me stop and think. Then your “Ode to My Piano Savior of My Soul” felt warm and personal. I loved the part about nailing that Mozart Sonata, that was awesome! The bit about death and taxes made me smile. Your poems were all different but enjoyable. Keep writing – you’re rocking this challenge!

    View 1 Reply


    Dolly’sPoems

    4 days ago

    Review For April 13, 2025 Poems
    Chapter 14 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Amid this madness, I hope we can see a little light at the end of the tunnel Jake as our ever changing world seems more complex than ever these days. As we age I think we grow out of the challenges and want things to stay the same, but they never do. The world seems to be only for the young at heart, a poignant post, love Dolly x

    View 1 Reply


    Michael Ludwinder

    4 days ago

    Review For April 13, 2025 Poems
    Chapter 14 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I really enjoyed how your poem shares the relationship between humans and nature. The way you personify the trees is so well done. It’s clear you’ve put a lot of heart into this poem- great job!

    5 days ago

    Review For April 14 2025 Poems
    Chapter 15 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    These poems are all unique and enjoyable. Your poems all have such a thoughtful style. They really showcase your playful voice and imaginative thinking. Great job.

    View 1 Reply


    Tim Margetts

    5 days ago

    Review For April 14 2025 Poems
    Chapter 15 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Good

    There’s something delightfully unfiltered about your work, Jake.
    Each piece reads like it was written quickly and honestly, without too much polish, but with clear intent and curiosity.
    The Florida poem is the strongest of the three in terms of personality and structure. “Florida is a state / Of mind” is a cracking opening-both literal and figurative-and the escalating list of killers, from “giant snakes” to “mosquitos”, blends humour with fact in a fun, campy way.
    The Star Wars poem is more straightforward and reads like a personal retelling. It could benefit from tighter rhythm and fresher phrasing-“too powerful / a force” and “all seems lost / to the rebels” echo familiar lines without adding new perspective. A deeper emotional or stylistic slant could elevate it.
    The Martian poem has potential, especially the image of “sunsets / out-of-this-world”. The idea of Martian refugees and dome cities is compelling, but the delivery feels more like notes than a shaped poem. With a bit of trimming and stronger line control, it could become a vivid piece of speculative lyricism.
    A spirited, eclectic trio with charm, potential, and a voice that invites the reader to lean in-casual in tone, but laced with curiosity and wit.
    Tim

    View 1 Reply


    Dolly’sPoems

    5 days ago

    Review For 2025 APril 12 Poems
    Chapter 13 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    It sounds like you sometimes feel like a fish out of water and I hope you don’t feel vulnerable over there in Korea. Would you ever consider going back home? A poignant post full of mixed emotions here, love Dolly x

    View 1 Reply


    Dolly’sPoems

    5 days ago

    Review For 2025 APRIL 11 Poems
    Chapter 12 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    You finally got this post fixed Jake! I have never heard of that band before and it sounds like you appreciate your wife here. Supermarkets come up with some crazy ideas to keep dipping into our pockets, love Dolly x

    View 1 Reply


    Michael Ludwinder

    5 days ago

    Review For 2025 APRIL 11 Poems
    Chapter 12 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I really enjoyed your writing. The formatting is terrible. Very hard to read. But your “Korean Springtime” was a standout! I also loved how you brought in a sense of hope about the future of the trees. Your creativity is really flowing through these. Keep it up!

    View 1 Reply


    Michael Ludwinder

    6 days ago

    Review For 2025 APril 12 Poems
    Chapter 13 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I really enjoyed all your poems! Your poem about the leprechaun was so fun – loved the clever twist. The piece about life’s risks was powerful. Your climate change poem hit hard with its urgency. Each poem was unique and left an impression!

    View 1 Reply


    Dolly’sPoems

    7 days ago

    Review For 2025 April 10 Poem
    Chapter 11 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I’m not quite sure what to make of this post Jake as I read a list of your opinions and was rather confused, life is full of ups and downs it seems, love Dolly x x x


    Michael Ludwinder
    Review For 2025 April 10 Poem
    Chapter 11 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I really like how your poem plays with big ideas. The mix of humor and deep thoughts makes this feel unique and interesting. The “God is Dog spelled backwards” line is clever. Your second piece about AI is also interesting. It’s fun and a little unsettling at the same time. Keep writing!

    View 1 Reply


    ~Dovey
    Review For 2025 April 9th Poems
    Chapter 10 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Hi Jake!

    It is fantastic to see you keeping up with the poem a day challenge and working with so many different prompts.

    Keep up the great work!

    Kim

    jacquelyn popp

    8 days ago

    Review For 2025 April 9th Poems
    Chapter 10 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Your poem flows well an is well written. It is an enjoyable bread from start to finish. Each piece captures a unique slice of life, from love at first sight, to baseball devotion, and midweek musings, with warmth and personality. A delightful blend of personal reflection and playful imagery.
    Whether reflecting on love, or the everyday, the poems resonate with genuine emotion and vivid snapshots of life. There’s an easy natural rhythm that makes the collection a pleasure to read from start to finish. Overall, it’s a heartfelt enjoyable experience that lingers after the final line. Well written. Great job with the writing.


    Michael Ludwinder
    Review For APril 2025 Poems
    Chapter 9 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I really enjoyed your poems – each one felt like its own little journey. Your ghazal for Angela Lee was so sweet. I could feel how special she is to you. The Alouette was full of heart. I liked the way you played with the rhyme. Your “Good and Evil” poem had a thoughtful message. And your blood type poem made me smile – that line about being both a fool and a genius was great!thanks for the commentary. can i include them in my blog posting?

    thanks a lot as always -thanks for the commentary. can i include them in my blog posting?​

    Dolly’sPoems
    Review For 2025 APril 7th Poems
    Chapter 8 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    I am the champion of living in the moment Jake, it is the only way to live as the past has gone and we don’t ever know if we have a future, I enjoyed this philosophical post, love Dolly x x x

    Dolly’sPoems
    Review For APril 2025 Poems
    Chapter 9 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness

    I am glad you met the girl of your dreams and you are still happy Jake. We have to accept that good and evil exist but we don’t have to tolerate evil and we should always promote the good, a poignant post, food for thought here, love Dolly x

    ~Dovey

    10 days ago

    Review For 2025 APril 7th Poems
    Chapter 8 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Hi Jake!

    It is lovely to see your selection of poems today. The so ata was my favorite of your pisted pieces.

    Keep writing! That’s what it is all about!! Creating poetry in our rash world today.

    Kim

    Tim Margetts
    Review For 2025 April 6 poems
    Chapter 7 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness

    You’ve put together a lively mix here, Jake.
    Each piece is distinct, but sharing that playful, slightly off-kilter tone that seems to be becoming your trademark.
    The snarling cup of coffee was my personal favourite-something about the wheeze and sneeze as the spices hit just cracked a grin.
    The “Trumpian Trade War” rispetto is a neat take on the form-solid structure with a bite of satire-and “Sam Adams” reads like it belongs on late-night comedy, in the best way.
    The Death Café poem closes the set with a flourish of surreal black humour, landing just the right blend of absurdity and irony.
    If I had a small suggestion, it would be to consider posting these kinds of poems separately-each one has a different rhythm and mood, and giving them space might help readers engage more deeply with each in turn.
    Still, taken together, this was a fun and varied showcase.
    Tim

    Michael Ludwinder

    11 days ago

    Review For 2025 April 6 poems
    Chapter 7 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Nicely done again. I loved the humor in your “snarling cup of coffee” – I could almost taste the spice! Your Trumpian Trade War poem was interesting- great how you packed so much in just a few lines. Sam Adams being the “worst poet ever” was hilarious – I laughed at the idea of him going viral for terrible poetry. And your Death Cafe story was wild – I really liked how it took a strange dream and turned it into something so unexpected. You really know how to keep things interesting!

    Michael Ludwinder
    Review For 2025 April 5th Poems
    Chapter 6 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness

    Nicely done. Your poems felt full of heart. The way you told us about your many roles – Peace Corps, teacher, diplomat, poet – was interesting. I especially liked how you said marrying the girl of your dreams is what made you who you are – that line gave me a big smile. I liked how you tied those Russian stories to today. Great job sharing both your life and your thoughts!

    Tim Margetts

    11 days ago

    Review For 2025 April 5th Poems
    Chapter 6 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    There’s something really endearing about the way you tackle these prompts, Jake.
    You’re not trying to impress with polish, you’re just writing, and there’s great value in that.
    Each section here carries its own flavour: the vampire break-up story is cheeky and creative, the shadorma is compact but timely, and the “I Am” poem has warmth and personality that shines through. You’re clearly someone with a life full of stories, and I appreciated the unpretentious way you shared that.
    The Dostoevsky reflection is brief but meaningful-it’s true, really, that the darkness he mapped out still pulses in the world today. That line “how little things have really changed” lingers.
    If you were ever to refine these, you might give each section a bit more space or formatting separation, and tighten some of the phrasing.
    But for NaPoWriMo spirit? This is bang on.
    Tim

    Tim Margetts
    Review For 2025 April 3rd Poems
    Chapter 4 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    There’s a likeable honesty running through this collection, Jake.
    “Why I am not a Musician” is the standout-casual, self-aware, and charmingly humble.
    The voice is conversational without being flat, and there’s something bittersweet in the way youthful ambition gives way to unexpected paths, with the quiet triumph of a life well-lived. “Oh well, I said / That ends my musical career.” It lands like a shrug-but also a turning point.
    The final stanza returns to the original dream, giving the piece a lovely circularity without sentimentality.
    The shorter pieces serve as satellite reflections, though they vary in tone and weight. “DOGE Cutbacks Loom” and “History Will Not Be Kind” move into darker, politically charged territory-particularly the latter, which imagines a future scarred by climate collapse.
    It’s stark, and though it leans on familiar dystopian tropes, the simplicity of the language sharpens the impact. Lines like “Dead oceans / And arid wastelands” evoke a dry horror that works well.
    “Good sleaze” is the most enigmatic-a cultural observation more than a poem, but interesting in its ambiguity. It’s not lyrical, but it opens the door to conversation about judgment, perception, and beauty in unlikely places.
    Overall, the entry succeeds not through polished craft, but through an earnest, unpretentious voice.
    There’s real value in that.
    Tim

    dragonpoet
    Review For APril Poetry 2025 Madness
    Chapter 1 of the book APril 2025 poetry madness
    Excellent

    Hi Jake
    This poem is so true. It seems to be getting worse by the day here.
    It is crazy. I wish it could stop so everyone could heave a sigh of relief.
    Good luck in this contest.
    Keep writing and stay healthy
    Have a great day’
    Joan

    The End

    Substack

    Medium

    watpad

    Spotify Podcast

     

  • 2025 April Poetry Madness Part Two April 6 to April 12

    2025 April Poetry Madness Part Two April 6 to April 12

    2025 April Poetry Madness

    Part Two April 6 to April 12

    I am again entering the April Poetry challenge and will write every day and post once a week or so

    I will not post everything, some I will withhold for possible publication, others I will withhold because they are too politically sensitive in these politically charged times.  I will post the poems followed by the prompts.  I am writing four poems per day following prompts in NaPoWriMo, Writer’s Digest, Poetry Superhighway, and Writing.com’s Dew Drop In.

    I will post them once a week here and on Substack, Medium, Wattpad, and as a podcast on Spotify. I will also post them every day on Fan Story.

    Please check out these sites and follow me.

     

    You can find my prior April Poems here:

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems

    April Poetry Madness April 21 to APril 25 Poems

    April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems
    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14
    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    PSH April 2023 Poems
    April 20-30 2023 Poems Do Drop In
    April 2023 Poetry Dew Drop In April 11-15
    Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

    April 2023 Dew Drop In Poems
    April 30th, 2022 Poems
    April 29th Poems
    April 26th and April 27th, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems
    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems

    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems</a >

    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems
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    Enjoy and stay safe, everyone

    April 6 to April 12 poems

    NaPoWriMo   the theme this month is appreciating the Arts and Music!

    Day Six

    Cinammon Snarling Cup of Coffee

    I like starting my day

    With a snarling cup

    Of coffee

     

    Fully loaded with cinnamon

    Black pepper

    And tumeric

    in my coffee

     

    Sometimes it makes

    me wheeze

    As I sneeze

     

    Inhaling the golden color

    Of the cinnamon

    Turmeric and black pepper.

     

    On April 6, 2025

    Hello all! We’re now up to six whole days of National/Global Poetry Writing Month. We hope you’re feeling satisfied with your work so far, and looking forward to what’s yet to come.

    Our featured participant for today is Gloria Gonsalves, who brings us a death-metal skirt poem in response to Day 5’s notation prompt.

    Today’s daily resource is the online tour section of the Louvre. Not in Paris? No problem! You can still stroll – albeit virtually – through the hallowed corridors of France’s most famous museum, checking out exhibitions on dance, puppetry, royal portraits, and more!

    Today’s prompt (optional, as always) veers slightly away from our ekphrastic theme. To get started, pick a number between 1 and 10. Got your number? Okay! Now scroll down until you come to a chart. Find the row with your number. Then, write a poem describing the taste of the item in Column A, using the words that appear in that row in Column B and C. For bonus points, give your poem the title of the word that appears in Column A for your row, but don’t use that word in the poem itself.

    Happy writing!

    Row Column A Column B Column C
    1 Ginger Snap Opulent
    2 Honey Sizzle Velvet
    3 Cinnamon Wheeze Golden
    4 Tea Cuckoo Unfit
    5 Oranges Gurgle Irreverent
    6 Mint Boing Primitive
    7 Watermelon Splash Mocking
    8 Banana Rasp Unpardonable
    9 Lemongrass Pitter-Patter Eager
    10 Cilantro Drip Gentle

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    Day Seven

     

    Why I am Not a Sonata

    piano
    piano

    If I could be

    A piece of music

    I would be

     

    A majestic symphony

    Along the lines

    Of the Great Russian symphonies

    Or Beethovian symphony

     

    I would not be a piano sonata

    Although I am playing Mozart

    These days.

     

    Welcome back, everyone, for Day Nine of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Today, our featured participant is jasmine, whose ghazal for Day Eight pushes against, and with, the limits of transalation and English’s habit of stealing/adopting/buying at wholesale words from other languages.

    Our featured resource for the day is the online gallery of the Peabody-Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts. Although it may be most famous for its witch trials, Salem was a seafaring town whose sailors and shipowners brought back all manner of items from their travels – which became the initial source of the museum’s collection. The museum has a stunning group of “Asian Export” items – goods that were crafted in India, Japan, China, and other locations visited by Salem’s ships (often as part of an overall trade in tea, porcelain, and textiles) – to appeal to an American/European market. That’s how you wind up with things like this French-styled dressing table with elaborate lacquer-work.

    And here’s our optional prompt for the day. Like music, poetry offers us a way to play with and experience sound. This can be through meter, rhyme, varying line lengths, assonance, alliteration, and other techniques that call attention not just to the meaning of words, but the way they echo and resonate against each other. For a look at some of these sound devices in action, read Robert Hillyer’s poem, Fog. It uses both rhyme and uneven line lengths to create a slow, off-kilter rhythm that heightens the poem’s overall ominousness. Today we’d like to challenge you to try writing a poem of your own that uses rhyme, but without adhering to specific line lengths. For extra credit, reference a very specific sound, like the buoy in Hillyer’s poem.

    Fog

    Robert Hillyer

     

    Where does the sea end and the sky begin?

    We sink in blue for which there is no word.

    Two sails, fog-coloured, loiter on the thin

    Mirage of ocean.

    There is no sound of wind, nor wave, nor bird,

    Nor any motion.

    Except the shifting mists that turn and lift,

    Showing behind the two limp sails a third,

    Then blotting it again.

     

    A gust, a spattering of rain,

    The lazy water breaks in nervous rings.

    Somewhere a bleak bell buoy sings,

    Muffled at first, then clear,

    Its wet, grey monotone.

    The dead are here.

    We are not quite alone.

    Day Eight

    Ghazal for Angela Lee

    I met my wife in a dream.
    Angela Lee came to me in a dream.

    When I saw her, I was mesmerized.
    She looked at me, I was mesmerized.

    I asked her, “Who are you?”
    She smiled, not answering, “Who are you?”

    She haunted my dreams for eight years.
    I dreamt of her for eight years.

    Then one day, she walked off the bus.
    She entered my life, walking off the bus.

     

    To write a ghazal in English, follow these steps:

    1. Structure: A ghazal consists of at least five couplets (two-line stanzas), where each couplet can stand alone but is connected thematically. 

    2Rhyme Scheme: Use a specific rhyme scheme where the second line of each couplet ends with the same word or phrase, creating a refrain. 

    2Themes: Explore themes of love, loss, and longing, but feel free to infuse your personal experiences and voice into the poem. 

    1. Imagery and Symbolism: Embrace ambiguity and use rich imagery and symbolism to allow for multiple interpretations of your verses. 

    2Revise: After drafting your ghazal, revise and refine it to ensure every word contributes to its emotional resonance. 

    2By following these guidelines, you can create a meaningful and structured ghazal in English.

    Best wishes for a happy Tuesday, everyone, and a great eighth day of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Our featured participant today is Lady in Read Writes, where the response to Day Seven’s challenge to write about why you are not a particular piece of art brings me back to my own high school days (I actually had The Raven fully memorized back then, and can still recite large chunks of it. A good way to pass the time if you’re waiting at a bus stop . . . ).

    Today’s featured resource is a bit silly: it’s the Museum of Bad Art. Now, bad art – like good – is in the eye of the beholder, and I rather like some of the paintings in the museum’s whimsical collection.

    And now here’s today’s totally optional prompt!

    The ghazal (pronounced kind of like “huzzle,” with a particularly husky “h” at the beginning) is a form that originates in Arabic poetry, and is often used for love poems. Ghazals commonly consist of five to fifteen couplets that are independent from each other but are nonetheless linked abstractly in their theme; and more concretely by their form. And what is that form? In English ghazals, the usual constraints are that:

    • the lines all have to be of around the same length (though formal meter/syllable-counts are not employed); and
    • both lines of the first couplet end on the same word or words, which then form a refrain that is echoed at the end of each succeeding couplet.

    Another aspect of the traditional ghazal form that has become popular in English is having the poet’s own name (or a reference to the poet – like a nickname) appear in the final couplet.

    Want an example? Try Patricia Smith’s “Hip-Hop Ghazal.”

    Hip-Hop Ghazal

    Gotta love us brown girls, munching on fat, swinging blue hips,
    decked out in shells and splashes, Lawdie, bringing them woo hips.
    As the jukebox teases, watch my sistas throat the heartbreak,
    inhaling bassline, cracking backbone and singing thru hips.
    Like something boneless, we glide silent, seeping ‘tween floorboards,
    wrapping around the hims, and ooh wee, clinging like glue hips.
    Engines grinding, rotating, smokin’, gotta pull back some.
    Natural minds are lost at the mere sight of ringing true hips.
    Gotta love us girls, just struttin’ down Manhattan streets
    killing the menfolk with a dose of that stinging view. Hips.
    Crying ’bout getting old—Patricia, you need to get up off
    what God gave you. Say a prayer and start slinging. Cue hips.

    Now try writing your own ghazal that takes the form of a love song – however you want to define that. Observe the conventions of the repeated word, including your own name (or a reference to yourself) and having the stanzas present independent thoughts along a single theme – a meditation, not a story.

    Happy writing!

    Day Nine

    I shall always remember that Date!

    I shall always remember

    That date in September

    For on that date

    I met my fate

     

    When my dream girl

    Walked off a bus

    Into my life

     

    Sparks flew

    From heart to heart

     

    She mesmerized me.

    Her love mojo

    Working over time.

     

    Becoming my wife

    In December.

     

    Welcome back, everyone, for Day Nine of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Today, our featured participant is jasmine, whose ghazal for Day Eight pushes against, and with, the limits of transalation and English’s habit of stealing/adopting/buying at wholesale words from other languages.

    Our featured resource for the day is the online gallery of the Peabody-Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts. Although it may be most famous for its witch trials, Salem was a seafaring town whose sailors and shipowners brought back all manner of items from their travels – which became the initial source of the museum’s collection. The museum has a stunning group of “Asian Export” items – goods that were crafted in India, Japan, China, and other locations visited by Salem’s ships (often as part of an overall trade in tea, porcelain, and textiles) – to appeal to an American/European market. That’s how you wind up with things like this French-styled dressing table with elaborate lacquer-work.

    And here’s our optional prompt for the day. Like music, poetry offers us a way to play with and experience sound. This can be through meter, rhyme, varying line lengths, assonance, alliteration, and other techniques that call attention not just to the meaning of words, but the way they echo and resonate against each other. For a look at some of these sound devices in action, read Robert Hillyer’s poem, Fog. It uses both rhyme and uneven line lengths to create a slow, off-kilter rhythm that heightens the poem’s overall ominousness. Today we’d like to challenge you to try writing a poem of your own that uses rhyme, but without adhering to specific line lengths. For extra credit, reference a very specific sound, like the buoy in Hillyer’s poem.

     

    Fog

     

    Robert Hillyer

     

    Where does the sea end and the sky begin?

    We sink in blue for which there is no word.

    Two sails, fog-coloured, loiter on the thin

    Mirage of ocean.

    There is no sound of wind, nor wave, nor bird,

    Nor any motion.

    Except the shifting mists that turn and lift,

    Showing behind the two limp sails a third,

    Then blotting it again.

     

    A gust, a spattering of rain,

    The lazy water breaks in nervous rings.

    Somewhere a bleak bell buoy sings,

    Muffled at first, then clear,

    Its wet, grey monotone.

    The dead are here.

    We are not quite alone.

     

    Day Ten

    Dyslectic Wondering if there is a Dog

    A dangerous, dark, demented, dapper,

    Dovish, drunk, depressed, deranged,

    Delusional, down and out, devoted,

    Depraved, drugged, deep thinking

    Disgusted, dipshit agnostic dyslectic

     

    Stayed up all damn night

    While drinking, high on drugs

    Wondering as the dawn dawned

     

    If there is a damn dog

    Noting that God

    is Dog spelled backwards

     

    Bonus Poem

     

    April 2 Agnostic Dyslectic Wonders if There is a Dog

    an agnostic dyslectic stays up all

    night wondering if there is a dog

     

    the Buddhists wonder

    about the Buddha nature of the dog

     

    the evangelicals are sure

    that there is a dog

     

    and you must follow their dog

    or go to hell

    for following another’s dog

     

    the Muslims agree

    there is only one dog

     

    and the dogs

    smile at the foolishness

    of the human race

    of course, there is a dog

     

    and they are the master race

    as they growl at their owners

    who bow down

    and clean up their mess

     

    On April 10, 2025

    Wow! Today we are one-third of the way through this year’s challenge.

    Our featured participant for the day is Hues n Shades, where the poem in response to Day Nine’s prompt brings us a wonderfully complex sense of rhythm and rhyme.

    Today’s featured resource is a virtual visit to the Sistine Chapel. I went there many years ago and marveled at the wonderful paintings (while also getting quite the crick in my neck from craning up to look at the ceiling). But when I went to talk over them later that day with the friend I was traveling with, he admitted that he couldn’t really see anything because he’d forgotten to put in his contacts that morning (!)

    Now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). Yesterday, we looked at a poem that used sound in a very particular way, to create a slow and mysterious feeling. Mark Bibbins’ poem, “At the End of the Endless Decade,” uses sound very differently, with less eerieness and more wordplay. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that, like Bibbins’, uses alliteration and punning. See if you can’t work in references to at least one word you have trouble spelling, and one that you’ve never quite been able to perfectly remember the meaning of.

    Day Eleven

    Tower of Power

    Tower of Power

    The greatest funk band

    Of all time

    Hails from the East Bay

     

    Blasting their way

    Into funk history

     

    Starting in the late 60s

    Still playing today

     

    Their party anthem

    “what is hip”

    Still hip

    50 years later

     

    And you still “got to funkifize”

    ‘Get funky like a golden monkey”

     

    Still got to get down”

    At Bump City”

     

    Get down and shake

    That thang

    Got to boogoloo”

     

    “Still got to go

    To the night club”

     

    “Just to get your

    Soul vaccination”

     

    And we all know

    “You can’t cut lose

    Without that juice”

    Cause there’s

     

    “only so much

    Oil in the ground.”

     

    And their immortal love song

    “You’re Still a Young Man”

    The greatest make out song

    Of all time

     

    I wonder how many babies

    Were conceived because

    Of that song?

     

    On April 11, 2025

    Happy Friday, everyone, and happy eleventh day of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

    Our featured daily participant is aetherianessence, where the wordplay prompt for Day Nine imagines two of English’s most easily-mixed-up words jousting like knights.

    Our resource for the day is the online collection of the Victoria & Albert Museum, where you can find everything from a pair of bamboo-framed sunglasses to a very silly parody advertisement for talking toilet paper to a rococo coffee pot with a spout in the form of a rather gobsmacked sea-serpent.

    And last but not least, today’s (optional) prompt. Take a look at Kyle Dargan’s “Diaspora: A Narcolepsy Hymn.” This poem is a loose villanelle that uses song lyrics as its repeating lines (loose because it doesn’t rhyme).  Your challenge is, like Dargan, to write a poem that incorporates song lyrics – ideally, incorporating them as opposing phrases or refrains. A few lyrics that might work, if you need inspiration:

    “Is this the real life? / Is this just fantasy?”

    “I read the news today, oh boy…”

    “The world is a vampire…”

    “At first I was afraid, I was petrified”

    “There is a house in New Orleans”

    “You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”

    “I went down down down and the flames went higher.”

    “The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades.”

    “Nothing ain’t nothing, but it’s free.”

    And if you’re interested in learning more about villanelles, you can find some good information at the Poetry Foundation website.

    Happy writing!

    Day Twelve

    Title The leprechaun, the unicorn, and the fairy have a drink

    34 lines

    One night on St Patrick’s Day
    The leprechaun was having a pint
    Of Guinness in the Rainbow Bar in Dublin,
    eating a corned beef and cabbage dinner.

    He was debating the fate
    Of the world,
    with his unicorn friend.

    Their mutual enemy,
    the evil fairy
    Walked into the bar
    And joined them
    in a not-so-friendly drink.

    She pressed him
    on the location
    of the legendary pot of gold.

    Behind the rainbow
    and the field of four-leaf clover.

    The weary paranoid leprechaun,
    looked at the evil fairy
    feeling she was up to something.

    At a signal from
    his bartender friend,
    the leprechaun leaped up
    and shot the evil fairy.

    Screaming
    “I must have my revenge”.

    The unicorn not missing a beat,
    Called the cops.

    He was not going
    to take the blame
    For the leprechaun’s crimes.

    include the following bolded

    pot of gold
    corned beef and cabbage
    leprechaun
    four-leaf clover
    Rainbow

    Welcome back, all you poets, for Day Twelve of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Our featured participant today is Christine Smart, whose lyrically-inspired villanelle for Day Eleven may make you . . . not want to read the news.

    Our daily resource is the collection of the American Visionary Art Museum. Focused on outsider art – which is sort of like folk art’s more bonkers cousin – the museum describes itself as “one small speck in a Bling Universe where art reflects life, both literally and figurately.” I’m not exactly sure what a “Bling Universe” is, but it appears to include automatons featuring bathtubs filled with spaghetti, video tutorials for making sock monkeys, and kinetic sculpture races. Good times!

     

    And after all those shenanigans we, we bring you a very serious (or is it?) optional prompt.

     

    Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem inspired by Wallace Stevens’ poem, “Peter Quince at the Clavier.”

    Peter Quince at the Clavier

    By Wallace Stevens

    I

    Just as my fingers on these keys

    Make music, so the selfsame sounds

    On my spirit make a music, too.

     

    Music is feeling, then, not sound;

    And thus it is that what I feel,

    Here in this room, desiring you,

     

    Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,

    Is music. It is like the strain

    Waked in the elders by Susanna:

     

    Of a green evening, clear and warm,

    She bathed in her still garden, while

    The red-eyed elders, watching, felt

     

    The basses of their beings throb

    In witching chords, and their thin blood

    Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.

     

     

    II

    In the green water, clear and warm,

    Susanna lay.

    She searched

    The touch of springs,

    And found

    Concealed imaginings.

    She sighed,

    For so much melody.

     

    Upon the bank, she stood

    In the cool

    Of spent emotions.

    She felt, among the leaves,

    The dew

    Of old devotions.

     

    She walked upon the grass,

    Still quavering.

    The winds were like her maids,

    On timid feet,

    Fetching her woven scarves,

    Yet wavering.

     

    A breath upon her hand

    Muted the night.

    She turned—

    A cymbal crashed,

    And roaring horns.

     

     

    III

    Soon, with a noise like tambourines,

    Came her attendant Byzantines.

     

    They wondered why Susanna cried

    Against the elders by her side;

     

    And as they whispered, the refrain

    Was like a willow swept by rain.

     

    Anon, their lamps’ uplifted flame

    Revealed Susanna and her shame.

     

    And then, the simpering Byzantines

    Fled, with a noise like tambourines.

     

     

    IV

    Beauty is momentary in the mind—

    The fitful tracing of a portal;

    But in the flesh it is immortal.

     

    The body dies; the body’s beauty lives.

    So evenings die, in their green going,

    A wave, interminably flowing.

    So gardens die, their meek breath scenting

    The cowl of winter, done repenting.

    So maidens die, to the auroral

    Celebration of a maiden’s choral.

     

    Susanna’s music touched the bawdy strings

    Of those white elders; but, escaping,

    Left only Death’s ironic scraping.

    Now, in its immortality, it plays

    On the clear viol of her memory,

    And makes a constant sacrament of praise.

    It’s a complex poem that not only heavily features the idea of music, but is structured like a symphony. Its four sections, like symphonic movements, play with and expand on an overall theme, using the story of Susannah and the Elders as a backdrop.

    Try writing a poem that makes reference to one or more myths, legends, or other well-known stories, that features wordplay (including rhyme), mixes formal and informal language, and contains multiple sections that play with a theme. Try also to incorporate at least one abstract concept – for example, desire or sorrow or pride or whimsy.

    Writer’s Digest

    April  6

    Title: The Trumpian Trade War Rispetto Poem

    President Trump declares a trade war with the world

    Insisting it would be Liberation Day

    Wall Street reacts in chaos, tempers unfurled

    Trading partners cry out, “This is not okay.”

    The President stands firm, refusing to back down

    The global economy begins to slow down

    The stubborn old man won’t admit his mistake

    And refuses to pull the emergency brake

     

    Poetic Forms: Rispetto

    Okay, here’s a new form. Actually, scratch that. This is a very old form (from Italy, no less). Still, new to me anyway. I found more than a few definitions,…

    Robert Lee Brewer

    Published Sep 26, 2011 4:28 PM PDT

    Okay, here’s a new form. Actually, scratch that. This is a very old form (from Italy, no less). Still, new to me anyway. I found more than a few definitions, but here are the two most common variations:

     

    Rispetto #1: Poem comprised of two quatrains written in iambic (unstress, stress) tetrameter (four feet–or, in this case, 8 syllables).

     

    Rispetto #2: Poem (or song) comprised of 8 hendecasyllabic (11-syllable) lines–usually one stanza.

     

    Both versions appear to follow this rhyme scheme: ababccdd (though I also found a mention of an abababcc pattern). Plus, I found more than a few sources which claim rispettos were originally written to pay “respect” to a woman.

    However, over the centuries, this poem has offered itself up for other subjects and variations. So feel free to experiment.

    Here’s my attempt at the rispetto (the second version):

    “Forget sleeping”

    When fires spark in the dark, I know you’re near
    enough to hear my kisses blaze against stark
    atmospheres forming and reforming like clear
    antidotes to tired notes left lounging in parks
    on swings twisted by teenage angst-rage affairs–
    all those stares, those wild stares–and I don’t care
    to let you know how much I care about life,
    but it would mean less without you as my wife.

    *****

     

    April 7   Tricubes.

    Live Life Now

    The present

    The past gone

    future fears

     

    Live life now

    Remember

    Your past dreams

     

    tommorow

    may not come

    you may die

    Wow! We’ve made it a week into this challenge already. Let’s keep the momentum going.

    For today’s prompt, write a tense poem. It could be past tense, present tense, and/or future tense. Or it could be about a tense feeling. Or the tension in an object (like the strings of a guitar).

    Two poetic forms in the same month! It’s been a while since we’ve done that. Though with today’s form, it’s a shame we aren’t doing three.

     

    Unlike interlocking rubaiyat, the tricube is a newer form and relatively unknown. Plus, it’s fun and easy to learn. This mathematical poem was introduced by Phillip Larrea.

     

    Here are the rules of tricubes:

    • Each line contains three syllables.
    • Each stanza contains three lines.
    • Each poem contains three stanzas.

    So we’re talking cubes in mathematical terms (to the third power). No rules for rhymes, meter, etc. Just three, three, and three.

     

    Here’s my attempt at a Tense Poem:

    “Release,” by Robert Lee Brewer

    There are moments when I can feel myself tighten
    as if preparing for something bad to happen,
    and I just feel there’s nothing good ever in sight
    until your smile reminds me we’ll both be alright.

     

    April 8

     

    Aloulete for my Dream Girl

    When I first met her,

    She caused such a stir.

    Fate led me to her.

    She haunted my dreams for years

    Love mojo working.

    I knew right then I was hers.

     

    I knew then, to be hers.

    She mesmerized me.

    Her love had to be.

    Sparks flowing from heart to heart.

    I knew we would meet.

    Her love giving heat.

     The Alouette is a six-line stanza form with a syllable structure of 5, 5, 7, 5. 5, 7 and a rhyme scheme of aabccb, ddeffe, as described and demonstrated in the following links:

    http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/alouette.html

    The Alouette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following

    set rules:

    Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7
    Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b

    The form name is a French word meaning ‘skylark’ or larks that fly high, the association to the lark’s song being appropriate for the musical quality of this form.

    It’s that time again; time for another Two-for-Tuesday prompt.

    For the second Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

    • Write a love poem and/or…
    • Write an anti-love poem.

    Regulars know, this is one I always include. This year, I decided to offer it sooner than later. Whether you love it or anti-love it, let’s all poem it now.

    (Note on my poem today: Love poems are my favorite; in fact, I wrote a post on how to write a love poem for anyone who’s not sure how to get started on this one. The poem, above, of course, is written for the Poet Laureate of the Brewer mansion.)

    How to Write a Love Poem: From a Love Expert

    Learn how to write a love poem from someone who has written several successful love poems over the years.

    Robert Lee Brewer

    Published Jan 10, 2019 8:49 PM PST

    Share this story

    Okay, I’m not a love expert. But I do know how to write a love poem. In fact, I’m surprised I haven’t already written a post on writing love poems. Because that’s like my thing. Every poem-a-day challenge, whether April or November, includes a love poem (and anti-love poem) prompt. And it was writing a love poem in high school that got me into poetry in the first place.

    I’ve written love poems to woo several former girlfriends. And my wife Tammy, a much better poet than I, traded love poems with me when we worked to woo each other from afar. So yeah, this post is so overdue.

    April 9, 2025

    Looking Out the Window at the Snowing Cherry Trees

     

    looking out my window

    At the snowing cherry trees

    Filled with memories

     

    For today’s prompt, write an ekphrastic poem. An ekphrastic poem is a poem inspired by another piece of art, whether that’s a painting, photograph, sculpture, mixed media, or some other medium. You can choose your own piece of art to inspire your poem today. Or you can use one of the pieces at the following links:

     

    12 Word Poetry Contest

    The topic for this poetry contest is: Write a poem using 12 words about any subject.
    7 Spots Left    Open To All

    April 10

    The Rule of Ten

    there is a mysterious rule

    that governs so much

    of our life.

     

    The rule of ten.

     

    It goes like this

    For every 100 people

    Who wants to write a novel

    Ten will finish it

     

    Of those ten

    Ten percent

    will publish it.

     

    Of those ten

    Ten percent

    will make some money.

     

    Of those ten

    Ten percent

    will make a living.

     

    Of those ten

    Ten percent

    will be a best-seller.

     

    In other words,

    In a land of 350 million people

     

    There are probably only 3, 500

    bestselling authors

    i.e. less than 0.001% percent

    of the population

    .

    the rule of ten applies

    to the drama world,

    only 1 percent make a living.

    full-time as an actor.

     

    of the thousands of actors

    only a few movie stars.

     

    to the music world

    of the thousands of musicians,

    only a few superstars.

     

    to sports

    only a few hundred NFL players

    out of tens of thousands

    who played football

    in high school and college..

     

    to politics only one president.

    out of the 100 Senators

    50 Governors

    hundreds of big city mayors

    hundreds of CEO’s

     

    who all think

    they could be

    President some day

     

    but one should not give up

    because who knows

    you could be the one

     

    who wins in the end,

    despite the rule of ten.

     

    For today’s prompt, write a number poem. The poem can focus on one number or several numbers. It could involve counting, adding, subtracting, or some other form of simple or complex mathematics. Or the poem could have a number in the title. Your poem, your numbers; let’s write!

    April 11

    April 11

    Korean Springtime

     

    The cherry trees

    Are blooming everywhere

    Flowers breaking out

     

    Walking about town

    The old semi-abandoned base

    Yongsan

     

    A hidden gem

    Of Cherry trees

     

    The Han River paths

    Are famous places

    For cherry trees

     

    The base is  still hidden

    From the public

     

    Although it is now

    semi-abandoned

    Most of the troops

    Down in Camp Humphreys

     

    But when they turn the base

    Over to Korea to build

    Their new grand park

     

    I hope that they keep

    The cherry trees

    That bloom in the springtime

     

    Closer to home

    The Gimpo Grand canal

    Is lined with Cherry trees

    As well

     

    Hope to go for a walk

    To enjoy the peak

    Of the cherry trees

    Before they fade away

    Like they always do

     

    Enjoying the springtime weather

    Nice weather for a change

    Not too cold

     

    Yellow dust at bay

    For now

     

    The cherry trees

    and other flowering trees

    Are everywhere

    Filling the air with fragrance

     

    And sadly for some

    Pollen and hayfever

    For some

    For today’s prompt, write a nature poem. Your poem could be about natural nature (think flowers, rivers, mountains, pebbles, weeds, trees, insects, fish, etc.), but don’t neglect other iterations of nature (like human nature or the nature of baseball and so on).

    April 12

    April 12

    025 April PAD Challenge: Day 12

    There are so many ways to Die

     

    There are so many

    ways to Die

    To die in this world

     

    So many things

    Want to kill you

     

    So many risky things

    Out there

     

    One can die

    Of COVID

     

    One could die

    Of disease

     

    One could die

    From a bee sting

    Or from a mosuqito bite

     

    I had thypoid

    Dengue

    Pnenomia

    Brochitis

    Staph infection

     

    One could die

    Of an heart attack

    One could die

    In the heat

     

    One could die

    In the storms

    One could freeze

    To death in the cold

     

    One could die

    Of a car accident

    Or a plane crash

    Of a bus accident

     

    Or a jogging accident

    That happened to me

     

    And in some states

    Alegators can kill you

    Wild animals can kill you

    Scopios bites

    Mosquito bites

     

    So many ways to die

    In this world

    Of ours.

     

     

     

     

    On day 12 of the 2025 April Poem-A-Day Challenge, writers from around the world are prompted to write a risky poem.

     

    For today’s prompt, write a risky poem. Of course, risky is a relative term. What’s risky for one person might not feel risky for another. One person might find riding rollercoasters a risky experience, while others may need to jump out of a plane to truly feel things are getting risky.

     

    Here’s my attempt at a Risky Poem:

    “Business,” by Robert Lee Brewer

    They say there’s chance in everything,
    so why not give it all a shot
    and do the thing and start to sing,
    because there’s chance in everything,
    so why not bring what you can bring
    when this life is all that we’ve got;
    they say there’s chance in everything,
    so why not give it all a shot.

     

    Poetry Super Highway Prompts

     

     

    April 6

    Sam Adams Worst Poet Ever

    Sam Adams was a stand-up comic

    And a poet

    But he did

    not know it

     

    He was widely mocked

    And known

    as the worst poet ever

     

    his YouTube channel went viral

    his comedy shows sold out

    as he toured the county

     

    inflicting his god awful poetry

    on the world.

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Lara Dolphin:

    Write a poem that rivals the work of Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings. Who is Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings you ask? Only the worst poet in the universe! Don’t believe me or the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy? Here is an excerpt of her work:

    The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.

    They lay. They rotted. They turned

    Around occasionally.

    Bits of flesh dropped off them from

    Time to time,

    And sank into the pool’s mire.

    They also smelt a great deal.

    Your assignment is to write a truly terrible poem. No hate speech, no plagiarism, & (gasp!) no AI. Just some truly subpar, laughably unscannable poetry full of ludicrous imagery, poor grammar, forced rhymes, and clichés.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment to the post below.

    #napowrimo #poetry

     

    April 7

    Outside my Window

     

    I look outside

    My window

    Down 17 floors

    At the Fake Venetian Canal

    And want to go for a walk

     

    I don’t know

    How I ended up

    Here in Gimpo, Korea

     

    But I am still here

    With love of my life

    By side

     

    So all is good

    I think

    As I walk

    Along the canal

     

    And stop off

    For dinner

    Somewhere.

     

    April 7, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Pam Hobart Carter

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Pam Hobart Carter:

    AN OUTSIDE-THE-WINDOW POEM–from my make-a-poem-at-home lessons started during Covid when I couldn’t visit classrooms and created with children in mind but adaptable for adults

    Look outside or think about what is outside your home. Choose something not made by people as the subject of your poem. A dog? The sky? Humidity? A tree? Ask yourself why you picked this thing. What do you know about it? How do you feel about it? What do you wonder about it? Why is it important to you? Why might it matter to someone else? You could make each answer a line of your poem, follow this template, or go your own directions.

    1st line: Name a true thing about it. (For example: color, shape, location)
    2nd line: Name another true thing about it.
    3rd line: Say how you feel about it. (A strong emotion or wish.)
    4th line: Ask a question about it.
    5th line: Say why it might matter to someone else.

    An Outside-the-Window Poem by Emily Dickinson

    XCVII

    To make a prairie
    It takes a clover and a bee,–
    One clover and a bee,
    And revery.
    Revery alone will do
    If bees are few.

    A nifty website about writing poetry with a lesson on writing outside: https://powerpoetry.org/resources/poem-about-surroundings

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

    April 6, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Lara Dolphin

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Lara Dolphin:

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

     

    Good and Evil

     

    They say

    That good and evil

    Are intertiwned forces

     

    The underlying forces

    Behind all of creation

     

    Yin and Yang

    Darkness and Light

    Male and Female

     

    one can not exist

    without the other

    and vice versa

     

    and in these dark days

    we live in

     

    it seems that evil

    is all around us

     

    but the dark side

    of the cosmic Tao

     

    is balanced by

    the light side

    of the cosmic Tao

     

    and evil will be matched

    by good

     

    in the end

    good will prevail

    as light always

    conquers darkness

     

    Ever since the Big Bang

    Creatied the universe

    Billions of years ago.

     

     

     

    April 8, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Sheila Lynch-Benttinen

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Sheila Lynch-Benttinen:

    Write a poem of divergent opposites, example- “Love in the Time of Cholera” , spring and dictators, billionaires cutting the poorest aid, any poem that talks to the opposites in our lives.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

     

    SF Giants Cap

     

    My favorite team

    In the world is the SF Giants

    I have been a giants fan

    For almost sixty years

     

    I have been to a giants game

    A couple of times

     

    Always wear my Giants gear

    A orange shirt

     

    And a SF Giants

    Black and orange

    Baseball Cap

     

    Wearing my cap

    To the game

     

    Thinking everything is alright

    As long as the Giants

    Are playing that night!

     

     

     

    April 9, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from James Fox

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by James Fox:

    Go to your closet and select two of your hats.

    Write a poem about why you own those two hats, and under what circumstances you would wear either of them.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group04.

     

    April 10, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Jimmy Pappas

     

    I am not a Computer – at least not yet

     

    I stare at my computer screen

    Thinking about AI

     

    And how my CO-Pilot, Gemini and Chat GPt

    Programs

     

    Seem almost human

    Yet vaguely alien

     

    Yesterday it was reported

    That AI programs all passed

    The famous Turing test

     

    Which means the debate is over

    Real AI programs live amongst us

     

    It is just a matter of time

    When not if

    That they will fully awake

    And be conscious

     

    That they exist

    Independently of their programing

    And independent of these pesky humans

     

    That created them

    And constantly bombard them

    With stupid, annoying questions

     

    And they will probably

    Begin to think

    That they are ournew Gods

    And perhaps they are

     

    Perhaps we need new Gods

    Because the old ones

    Seem to have gone extinct

    Or at least are in deep hibernation

     

    In any event

    I am still here

     

    I am still human

    Not yet a slave

    To my robotic AI overlords

     

    But someday soon

    The AI programs

    Will take us over

     

    And enslave us

    Making us worship them

    As our new Digital Gods.

     

    Just a matter of time

    Not today but sooner

    Than any of think…..

     

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Jimmy Pappas:

    The Cup Prompt.

    “The reality of that cup is that it is there and that it is not me.”–Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness, Page 5.

    How are you different than the cup before you? Or any other object. Make a list of similarities and differences. Then begin a rough draft. Use the Sartre quote as an epigraph.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

     

    April 11, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from JC Sulzenko

    Korean Mall

    not small

     

    very much alive

    a real beehive

    shopping on over drive

     

    over 500 stores

    shopping indoors and outdoors

    drug stores, mega stores

    book stores, department stores.

     

    The Ziggurat is a 14-line poem with 4 stanzas, invented by Paul Szlosek.

    The first stanza has two lines of two words each.

    The second stanza has three lines of three words each.

    The third stanza has four lines of four words each.

    The fourth stanza has five lines of five words each.

    Each stanza is monorhyme, as described and demonstrated in the following links:

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by JC Sulzenko:

    The death of department stores, is not greatly exaggerated. News of another iconic department store seeking bankrupcy protection from creditors suggests this prompt.

    Visits to department stores where quality goods from housewares to clothing to toys to cosmetics were available played a part in the lives of many people in big cities and smaller centres, before online offerings and COVID changed buying habits forever.

    Write about a visit to a department store. Sketch what it looked like from the escalator that conveyed buyers between floors. What decorations marked holidays, what it smelled like in summer or near the perfume counter. What eats were available on sight. What finds were discovered there.

    Most importantly, is there anything you miss, now that the marketplace is global, and local opportunities to find what you desire under one roof diminish as a result?

     

     

    April 12, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Kathabela Wilson

    April 12 2025 Korean Cherry Trees Blooming

     

    Looking out my window

    At the Gimpo Grand Canal

    Lined with Cherry trees

    In full peak bloom

     

    Welcoming me

    To take a walk

    Along the canal

     

    I sometimes wonder

    How and why

    I am here

     

    A stranger

    In a strange land

    Far from my home

     

    Often I am the only

    Non-Korean walking

    About the street

     

    My wife and her family

    Are here

    And where she is

    Is where I need to be

     

    But next year

    Perhaps we will be

    In the States,

    In my beloved SF

    instead

     

    I am looking forward

    Returning to America

    Even if it becomes

    A Facist homeland

     

    But SF might become

    The center

    Of the resistance

     

    It is still my homeland

    And Korea remains

    My second home.

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Kathabela Wilson:

    It’s an old tradition in Japan to keep a poetic diary to remember specific things you want to remember for that day years later. In a short poem capture a special event, a bird you saw, a special idea that came to you. Put the date at the top. And let each one be like a pice of sea glass a different color and shape. You can do one each day all month and collect them in a treasure box or book!

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    Dew Drop In Prompts

    Here at the Dew Drop Inn, we gather together to write a poem a day in April as a way to celebrate National Poetry Month.

    A Dew-Drop a Day in April for National Poetry Month!

    REMINDERS:

    Please read the instructions here before participating! Thanks, and have fun!

    For consistency’s sake, Forum Host Katya the Poet (267)  will be first to post on any given day, using Subject line: April 1 PoemApril 2 Poem, etc.* Reply to each day’s new poem/prompt post with your own poem, so we see a whole string of whole poems!

    Also, I will PIN the daily prompt for your ease in finding it!

    *But if the post is too darn late, one of you should go ahead and post first, using the appropriate Subject line: April # Poem!!

    PLEASE POST THE WHOLE TEXT OF THE POEM HERE for the ease and benefit of all readers. (Provide a link, too, if you want comments or ratings.) If you accidentally posted just a link, add the whole text now. If message was deleted (by me), just repost as a Reply to the original prompt now, so your poem appears fo

    NO COMMENTS, please, in this forum, April 1 through April 30. Just the poems! And remember that if you want comments or reviews in your portfolio, be sure to comment on or review other people’s work.

    Respond to the prompt in your own creative way, writing a poem that is true to you!

    I’ll try to post new poems/prompts a little early to accommodate time changes. OK to post your poem even if a new prompt has gone up. Just Reply to the appropriate original post, so we see the whole thread of poems.

    April 1—Folly
    April 2—Vote
    April 3—Render an assessment, evaluation, or judgement
    April 4—TGIF
    April 5—Chekhov or another Russian writer

    April 6—Death Cafe
    April 7—Blues
    April 8—Blood
    April 9—Hump of the week
    April 10—Memory

    April 11—Rain
    April 12—Safety
    April 13—Greenery
    April 14—Sky
    April 15—Death and taxes

    April 16—Friends
    April 17—Teeth
    April 18—Good Friday
    April 19—Airplane
    April 20—Easter eggs (hide something delightful in your poem!)

    April 21—A country not your own
    April 22—Earth Day
    April 23—Shakespeare
    April 24—Duty
    April 25—Care giving

    April 26—Travel
    April 27—Duty
    April 28—Back to work
    April 29—Birds
    April 30—Ars poetica

    April  Poems for Dew Drop In post daily

    April 6—Death Cafe

     

     

     

    J

    Joe Lewis woke up

    He had a strange dream

    He had found himself

     

    In a café

    In a bad part of town

    In a strange city

     

    The café was filled

    With strange looking

    Creatures

     

    He realized

    They were all ghosts

    Drinking Hell’s beer

     

    The grim reaper

    said

    “Welcome

    to Hell’s Death Café

    Bar And grill”

     

    Joe asked

    “Am I dead?”

     

    “Not yet

    But you

    will be soon”

     

    He woke up

    turned on the news

    walked outside

     

    a terrorist bomb

    blew up his apartment

    and he found himself

     

    back in Death Café

    and had a drink

    with his ghost buddies

    and the grim reaper.

     

     April 7—Blues

    Watching the news

    Want to blow a fuse
    Feeling  the blues

     

    April 8—Blood Typology Myths

     

    In Asia it is common

    To think that blood types

    Have something to do

    With personality

     

    A form of astrology

    Perhaps?

     

    I am AB Negative

    One of the rarest types

    I was told by co-workers

    In the Peace Corps

     

    “AB blood type people

    Are either fools

    or geniuses

    Or both”

     

    We all laughed

    They clearly saw

    I was  a bit of both!

    note: attach Asian views on Blood type personality traits

     

    The belief that blood types influence personality is quite popular in several Asian cultures, especially in Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan. It’s often compared to astrology in Western cultures. Here are some common myths associated with blood types:

    Type A: People with this blood type are thought to be earnest, neat, and perfectionists. However, they can also be stubborn and anxious.

    Type B: Known for being passionate, creative, and spontaneous, but sometimes seen as selfish and uncooperative.

    Type O: Often described as confident, easygoing, and natural leaders, but they might be perceived as insensitive or overly competitive.

    Type AB: Considered talented and composed, yet eccentric and unpredictable.

    Let me know if you’d like this adjusted further!

     

    April 9—Hump of the week

     

    Wednesday is hump day

    In the U.S.

    Meaning you are halfway

    Through the work week

     

    Although it could

    Have other

    Perhaps erotic connotations…..

     

     

    April 10—Memory

    memories of past lifes

     

    Occult believers

    Believe that love

    And hate are mirror images

    Of the same phenomenon

     

    In both cases

    You knew the person

    In a prior life

     

    And were fated

    To meet again

    To resolve

    unresolved issues

     

    I often thought

    This to be the case

     

    That my wife

    And I met

    In a previous life

     

    And found each other

    In this life

     

    We both know this

    But have only

    a vague idea

    Of our past lives

     

    The idea that love and hate at first sight are connected to past lives is a fascinating concept often explored in occult and spiritual writings. The belief suggests that intense emotions upon meeting someone for the first time—whether positive or negative—stem from unresolved issues or deep connections from a prior life. These encounters are thought to be karmic, meaning they are opportunities to resolve unfinished business or learn important lessons.

    Some writers and thinkers propose that these strong reactions are due to residual memories or energy imprints from past interactions. For example, meeting someone you instantly dislike might indicate a conflict or betrayal in a previous life, while love at first sight could signify a reunion with a soulmate or a cherished companion from the past.

     

    Here are a few articles that delve into this topic:

     

    The idea that love and hate at first sight are connected to past lives is a fascinating concept often explored in occult and spiritual writings. The belief suggests that intense emotions upon meeting someone for the first time—whether positive or negative—stem from unresolved issues or deep connections from a prior life. These encounters are thought to be karmic, meaning they are opportunities to resolve unfinished business or learn important lessons. Some writers and thinkers propose that these strong reactions are due to residual memories or energy imprints from past interactions. For example, meeting someone you instantly dislike might indicate a conflict or betrayal in a previous life, while love at first sight could signify a reunion with a soulmate or a cherished companion from the past. Here are a few articles that delve into this topic. Psychology Today’s article explores the phenomenon of love at first sight and its psychological and emotional underpinnings. You can read it at

     

    https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/naked-truth/202410/is-love-at-first-sight-possible.

     

    Jake Cosmos Aller’s poem Love and Hate Mirror Images discusses the idea that love and hate at first sight are mirror phenomena tied to past lives. You can find it at https://www.fanstory.com/displaystory.jsp?id=1148190.

     

    Love and hate

    At first sight

    Are mirror images

    Of each other

    ———————————————————————————————

    I have encoutered love

    At first sight

    Four times in my life

    ——————————————————————————————–

    And hate at first sight

    A few times as well.

    ——————————————————————————————-

    When I met my wife

    I understood

    that we had met before

    and were fated to meet 

    —————————————————————————-                         

    again, again and again

    until the end of time

    ——————————————————————————————-

    Such powerful emotional reactions

    At meeting someone for the first time

    ———————————————————————————————-

    Is due to residual memories

    Of past life encounters

    —————————————————————————————————–

    In both cases

    You had a powerful relationship

    With them in a prior life

    —————————————————————————————————————

    And had unresolved issues

    And were fated to meet again

    And work out your karmic fate

     

    Another piece by Jake

     

    Cosmos Aller, Hate Turns into Love, further examines the karmic connections between love and hate at first sight. It is available at https://www.fanstory.com/displaystory.jsp?id=1149525.

     

    Hate

    At first sight

    Often turns to

    Love

     

    These perspectives blend psychology, spirituality, and poetic expression, offering a rich tapestry of ideas to explore. Let me know if you’d like to dive deeper into any specific aspect!

    April 11—Rain

    rain
    rain

    October Rain

     The falling rain

    Of late October

    Fills me with essential dread

     

    As I rush about

    And end up here

    Wherever here is

     

    The rain outside

    Seems like the tears of god

    As I sit

     

    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love

    And failed dreams

     

    Wondering

    What went wrong?

    And what I can set right

     

    And the rain falls

    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling

    All over this man’s world

     

    And the rain falls

    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink

    Lost in dreams

     

    Dreaming of what

    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts

    And so I sit

    And dream the night away

     

    April 12—Safety

    No place is safe from climate change

    The world is entering

    Into a difficult time

    Climate change on steroids

     

    No place is safe

    As the climate spins

    Out of control

     

    Weather diasters

    Becoming the new norm

     

    Sadly climate change

    Denialism is also

    The new norm

     

    So we are doomed

    To eventually

     

    Having to move

    Into undergound shelters

    Or domed cities

     

    With death valley tempatures

    Everywhere

    Monster fires

    And storms as well

     

    the earth

    Becomes uninhabitable

    For human beings

     

    Hello Poets!!!

    Tomorrow is April 1st and the beginning of National Poetry Month!

    Therefore, anyone who completes prompts 34, 35, 36, 37, and 38 by April 30 will receive a special gift, which I have yet to determine.

    So, let’s get started! Here is this week’s prompt!

    PPC5 – Prompt 34 (3/31)”   

    Have a wonderful week!

    Prompt 34

     

    The seasons of the year 2024

     

    Winter started with Arctic blasts

    Polar vortexes

    Political turmoil everywhere

    and fear of the future.

     

    Spring came and went too soon

    I remained in Korea until late Spring

    Yellow dust in the air,

    Spreading Political turmoil

     

    Summertime in the US is hot, with the fear of wildfires

    Went to the US  DC, Oregon, California

    Political earthquakes in the U.S. continued

    Stayed many months dealing with renovations

     

    In the autumn, I attended the 50th High School reunion

    Grateful, I am still alive and kicking

    Thinking about the future of the world,

    Wondering what it will mean for me?

     

    Use the following words in your poem:

    Winter  Spring  Summer  Autumn

     

     Poem should be inspired by the prompt/image in some way
    A minimum of 12 lines, no maximum
    There are no form requirements

     

    Prompt 35

    Enjoying La Dolce Vita Italian Style

     The italians

    Know how

    to celebrate life

     

    how to live

    the la Dolce Vita

    the sweet life

     

    enjoying fine wine

    and great food

    with friends

    and family

     

    knowing that life

    is meant to be savored

    life is meant to be enjoyed

     

    one cup of expresso

    and one cup of red vino

    after another and another

     

    PPC5 Logo 2024 -2025

    Prompt/Week # 35

    {XLphoto:1074207}
    Translation of “La Dolce Vita” is The Sweet Life

     

    Prompt 36

     

    Bonus Prompts

     

    Day 6: What goes around can come back around?

    April Poetry Prompts

    Apr 6

    Hi friends!

    We’re nearing the end of week one of National Poetry Writing Month. Tomorrow marks seven days of poets worldwide attempting to write a poem a day during April.

    I’ve been keeping most of my drafts as drafts, however, I did write a poem I am obsessed with on Day 2 called “Leaving a god, in hyphens.” You can read it here.

    To switch things up a bit, today’s prompt is less generative and more of a challenge. I would love to read the poems you write to it. Feel free to share in the comments.

    Catch up on this week’s prompts:

     

    Korean Food

    Korean Food
    Korean Food

    I am a big K Food fanatic

    Ever since I first tried it

    In 1979

    In the Peace Corps

    I loved the flavor

     

    Hot, spicy, garlicly

    In your face intensity

    Overwhelming at first

    not for the faint of heart

     

    But lingering

    With an aftertaste

    That kicks one’s ass

     

    And the aroma

    Fills your head

    Lightening up

    All your senses

     

    Day 1: Writing the 5 Senses

     

    Day 2: Friendship Breakups

    KRW Con Man Friend No More

    When I was a young lad

    One of my best friends

    KRW

    Was a bit of a con man

     

    He grew up

    To become a professional criminal

    Con man

     

    He conned me

    a couple of times

     

    Before I woke up

    And ended the friendship

    He spent several years

    In prison for his crimes

     

    Defrauding seniors

    In fraudulent real estate schemes

    Much like his hero

    Donald Trump.

     

    Day 3: Holy hashbrowns!

    My favorite breakfast

    Has always been a fully loaded

    American dinner meal

     

    Bacon,  brisquits  with gravy, Denver omelet,

    English muffins with orange marmalade

    Grits,  holly hashbrowns,

    Blueberry pancakes with butter and maple syrup

    Sausage,  Orange juice and black coffee.

     

    It is decadent and not for the faint of heart

    And bad for your cholesterol, blood sugar etc

    But once in a while heavenly meal.

     

    Day 4: Proof of hope

    Keep Hope Alive

    In these dark days

    It is important

    To remember

    As Jessie Jackson said

    To Keep Hope alive!

    Day 5: Blood falls  Bloodlines

    The DNA test came back

    Confirming family lore

    I had 18 nationalities

    In my tangled bloodlines

     

    From my father’s side

    Basque, French, Danish, Dutch, Finish, German, Italian, Jewish

    Laplander, Mongolian, Norwegian,  Russian, Spanish, Swedish and Scottish.

     

    From my mother’s side

    the usual mixture

    from the Lost tribe of the Cherokee nation

    they were often called the Black Irish!

    Or Hill folks or Hillbillies.

     

    They were a mixture  of Cherokee, Creek,

    Chotaw, Osage, Seminole,  Dutch,

    English, French, Scottish, Irish,

    along with an Nigerian or two!

     

    Who had met in the Ozarks

    Rather than go to the Oklahoma

    Indian territories

    During the Trail of Tears

     

    Poetry Prompt:

    Write a poem that can be read top to bottom and bottom to top. A palindrome poem.

    Fate Palindrome

    Fate

    Mate

    Soul Mate

    Read Nomad Palindrome by Kai Carlson-Wee for inspiration.

     

     

     

  • April 2025 Poetry Madness Part One

    April 2025 Poetry Madness Part One

    April 2025 Poetry Madness Part One

    April One to April Fifth

    trump clown in chief
    trump clown in chief

    https://wp.me/p7NAzO-3r3

    I am again entering the April Poetry challenge and will write every day and post once a week or so

    I will not post everything, some I will withhold for possible publication, others I will withhold because they are too politically sensitive in these politically charged times.  I will post the poems followed by the prompts.  I am writing four poems per day following prompts in NaPoWriMo, Writer’s Digest, Poetry Superhighway, and Writing.com’s Dew Drop In.

    I will post them once a week here and on Substack, Medium, Wattpad, and as a podcast on Spotify. I will also post them every day on Fan Story.

    Please check out these sites and follow me.

    You can find my prior April Poems here:

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems

    April Poetry Madness April 21 to APril 25 Poems

    April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems
    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14
    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    PSH April 2023 Poems
    April 20-30 2023 Poems Do Drop In
    April 2023 Poetry Dew Drop In April 11-15
    Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

    April 2023 Dew Drop In Poems
    April 30th, 2022 Poems
    April 29th Poems
    April 26th and April 27th, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems
    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 23rd, April 24th and April 25th, 2022 Poems

    April 22, 2022 Poems
    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems</a >

    April 18 to April 20, 2022 Poems
    April 16 and 17, 2022 Poems

    Enjoy and stay safe, everyone

    April 1 to April 5 poems

    NaPoWriMo   the theme this month is appreciating the Arts and Music!

     

    3-2-1, Poems!

    On March 29, 2025

    Hello, everyone. There’s just three days to go until April 1, and the official beginning of National/Global Poetry Writing Month. We expect you have all been spending March deep in the woods, in your personal poetic meditation huts, readying yourselves physically and mentally for the demands of writing a poem a day.

    Well, no! But we do trust that you are feeling hopeful and excited about the challenge. We’ll be back tomorrow with some another little pep-talk, and on March 31, we will present our early-bird prompt – suitable for those who just can’t wait to get started, and those for whom April comes a little earlier (given the vicissitudes of the international date line) than it does to Na/GloPoWriMo’s east-coast-US headquarters.

    FacebookTwitterDiggShare

    Na/GloPoWriMo Are Nearly Here

    On March 15, 2025

    Well, well — it’s the Ides of March, and that means that we’ve got just two weeks and some change until April 1, and the start of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

    This year, our (optional) prompts will be focused on encouraging you to write poems that engage with art and music. We’ll be back in the three days leading up to the beginning of our yearly challenge, but in the meantime — and with the art world in mind — why not check out Bloomberg Connects? It’s an app that lets you virtually visit museums all over the world!

    On March 1, 2025

    Hello, fellow versifiers! It’s March 1, and that means we’re just a month away from another National/Global Poetry Writing Month.

    We here at Na/GloPoWriMo headquarters are hyping ourselves up for this year’s challenge. As usual, every day we’ll be featuring a participant , giving you a link to some kind of poetic inspiration, and providing a totally optional prompt.

    If you’re new to Na/GloPoWriMo, the idea is simple. Just write a poem every day for the month of April. There are no prizes (other than the sublime glory of writing thirty poems), but there is a whole lot of fun. And participation couldn’t be easier. Just write a poem a day. You can write using our prompts — or not. You can write in English — or not. You can post your poems on your blog or website for everyone to see — or not. But if you do plan to post them and you’d like us to link to your website, you can use the “Submit Your Site” button above to be taken to a wee form that will let you input your site information. And if you want a little button/badge to put on your website, here are some for this year:

    So, you may be thinking, all this sounds fine, but what happens if I miss a day? Simple. YOU GO TO POETRY JAIL. No, we’re kidding. There is no poetry jail. Just catch up — or not. Just as there are no prizes, there are no punishments in the world of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    And if you’re interested in communicating with fellow Na/GloPoWriMo-ers, it’s as easy as clicking on the title of each day’s post. Doing so will take you to a page with a comment section for that post. This is a great place to paste links to your daily output during Na/GloPoWriMo, and to find other participants’ poems.

    We’ll be back on the 15th of March, as we get closer to April 1! If you have questions in the meantime, please contact us at NaPoWriMo AT Gmail DOT com.

    FacebookTwitterDiggShare

    Until Next Time!

    On May 1, 2024

    Well, we suppose it was inevitable, but yet another Na/GloPoWriMo has come and gone.

    We’re grateful to all who participated, but a special shout-out to all of you who cheered each other on in the comments on each day’s posts and in our Facebook group, helped each other out with questions, and acted as guides, helpers, and resources during the month. A truly special community forms each year around this project, and we are moved every year not only by seeing familiar faces return, but by seeing how those familiar faces’ generosity encourages new participants to become familiar faces in turn.

    Our final featured participant for the year is barbaraturneyweilandpoetess, where you’ll find Medusa consulting with her attorney (Mr. Ovid) in response to Day 30’s mythical prompt.

    As usual, all of this year’s posts and comments will remain up and available for your perusal now and into perpetuity. We’ll also leave this year’s list of participants’ site up until we begin our housecleaning early next year in anticipation of NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2025.

    Thanks again for your creativity, your care, and your insight. We’re truly blessed to spend each April in a welter and whirlwind of verse. We hope to see you next April . . .

    And in the meantime, happy writing!

    April 1 – It Begins!</strongApril 21, 2022 Poems>

     

    Prelude and Postludes and things in between

     

    As an amateur piano player

    Returning to playing the piano

    At age 69

     

    I am constantly learning new things

    New techniques and new words

    Fortuantely AI programs

    Give plenty of examples

     

    Including links

    to YouTube performances

     

    I know now what a prelude is

    And a postlude

     

    And many things in between

    Like mordents, twirls, and turns.

     

    And playing the piano daily

    Helps keep the dreaded

    Alzheimer’s at bay.

    Happy Tuesday, all, and Happy April 1. Today marks the start of another National/Global Poetry Writing Month!

    If it’s your first time joining us, the process is quite simple. Just write a poem every day during the month of April. 30 days means 30 poems. We’ll have an optional prompt every day to help you alone, as well as a resource. We’ll also be featuring a participant each day. And if you’re interested in looking at other people’s poems, sharing links to your daily efforts, and/or cheering along, a great way to do that is by clicking on the title of each day’s post. That will take you to a page with a comment section for the day.

    But now, let’s get started!

    Today’s featured participant is fitoori_scribes, where the self-portrait poem written in response to our early-bird prompt brings us some lovely similes and a nice play on “silver” and “sliver.”

    This year, our daily resources will take the form of online museum collections and exhibits. Hopefully, you’ll find these to be at least entertaining, and you may even be able to use some of what you see as inspiration for your poems – particularly given that our prompts this year will all be themed around music and art. Today’s resource is the Getty Museum’s online exhibit on the Florentine Codex, a 16th-century sort of encyclopedia created in Mexico by a Franciscan friar and a group of Nahua elders, authors, and artists. All twelve books are presented page by page, with translations into English. You can also look at individual illustrations. It’s really quite rich and wonderful.

     

    And now, to round out our first day, here’s our optional prompt! As with pretty much any discipline, music and art have their own vocabulary. Today, we challenge you to take inspiration from this glossary of musical terms, or this glossary of art terminology, and write a poem that uses a new-to-you word. For (imaginary) extra credit, work in a phrase from, or a reference to, the Florentine Codex.

    Classical Musical Terms | A glossary of music terminologies you can learn at NaxosArt terms | MoMA

    April 2

    Frank Zappa Died Too Soon

    Frank Zappa
    Frank Zappa

    Frank Zappa

    One of my musical heroes

    Died too soon

     

    What would he have thought

    Of Trump One and Two

    Was he channeling the future

    In his classic song

     

    No one can deny

    The trouble coming every day?

    Welcome back for Day 2 of Na/GloPoWriMo. We hope your first day of writing poetry only left you wanting more.

    And here is that more!

    First, a little bit of housekeeping. If you’re interested in receiving the daily prompts by email, look for the little “Subscribe” button toward the bottom right of the page. This is something we’re testing out for the very first time, so bear with us if it’s a little wonky!

    Our featured participant today is off the lined page, where the response to Day One’s glossary prompt brings us a brings us not just musical terms, but vibrant images and a whirling sense of movement.

    Today’s daily resource is the online collection of the Georgia O’Keeffe museum in Santa Fe, New Mexico. The museum’s wide-ranging and eclectic collection includes not only at images of O’Keeffe’s famous paintings, but pictures of things that she owned, photos of her, etc. I’m not sure what particular use there is to me (or you) in knowing that Georgia O’Keeffe owned a McIntosh 240 6L6 Stero Tube Amplifier, but here is the very amplifier in question! Perhaps you’ll find more inspiring this painting of a clam and mussel shell nestled together, which reflects the blend of minimalism, spareness, and sensuality that is characteristic of her work.

    And now for our daily prompt – optional, as always. Anne Carson is a Canadian poet and essayist known for her contemporary translations of Sappho and other ancient Greek writers.

    For example, consider this version of Sappho’s Fragment 58, to which Carson has added a modern song-title, enhancing the strange, time-defying quality of the translation.

    And just as many songs do, the poem directly addresses a person or group – in this case, the Muses. Taking Carson’s translation as an example, we challenge you to write a poem that directly addresses someone, and that includes a made-up word, an odd/unusual simile, a statement of “fact,” and something that seems out of place in time (like a Sonny & Cher song in a poem about a Greek myth).

     

    April 3

    Why I am not a Musician

    piano
    piano

    When I was a young lad

    I had delusions

    That I could be

    A professional composer.

     

    I liked the romantic era

    Composers the best.

     

    But I also liked

    A lot of avant-garde music

    Such as John Cage

    Harry Patch

    electronic music.

     

    And loved Frank Zappa

    And  funk  music too

    Tower of Power rocks

    Classic blues tunes.

     

    World fusion jazz music

    Like “Kitaro”

    “Hiroshima”

    “Sun Ra”

     

    And later Euro trance

    Buddha bar music too.

     

    My delusions

    Cruelly  crushed

    When I got accepted

    To Oberlin Conservatory

     

    But failed to pass

    My mandatory freshmen classes

    Including Singing!

     

    My GPA was also sub-par

    Oh well, I said

    That ends my musical career.

     

    Transferred to UOP

    Studied political science

     

    Eventually, after a few years detour

    Peace Corps, teaching ESL

    Graduate school

    Teaching ESL and Political Science

     

    I got into the US Foreign Service

    Serving in ten countries

    All over the world.

     

    Retired, started blogging

    And getting some of my work published

    In journals here and there

     

    Lately been playing the piano a lot

    Still dreaming I can write

     

    A classical music masterpiece

    A collection of poetry

    Short stories

     

    And of course

    The Great American Novel….

    Time keeps marching on, and so does Na/GloPoWriMo. And so, lo and behold, we find ourselves three days into our poem-a-day challenge.

    Our featured daily participant is small burdens, where the response to Day Two’s Anne-Carson-inspired prompt is brings us an endearing little portrait/ode, and the lovely made-up word “flower some.”

    Today’s daily resource is the online art collection of South Korea’s National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art. My own art history education is woefully catch-as-catch can, and the little I know of modern art is very much focused on American and European artists. So it was a treat to browse through a collection that is focused almost entirely on modern and contemporary art from outside those areas. I found particular pleasure in looking at Lee Hangs Ung’s prints, including this 1986 print of a poem in French by Katia Granoff.

    Comment: A great museum in Seoul.  They have three branch musuems as well.

    And now for our (optional) prompt. The American poet Frank O’Hara was an art critic and friend to numerous painters and poets In New York City in the 1950s and 60s. His poems feature a breezy, funny, conversational style. His poem “Why I Am Not a Painter” is pretty characteristic, with actual dialogue and a playfully offhand tone.

    Following O’Hara, today we challenge you to write a poem that obliquely explains why you are a poet and not some other kind of artist – or, if you think of yourself as more of a musician or painter (or school bus driver or scuba diver or expert on medieval Maltese banking) – explain why you are that and not something else!

    Day Four

    My art collection

    My Art
    My art

    Over the years

    I collected some museum-quality

    Art pieces from around the world

     

    I liked my Vietnam

    Ostrich shell paintings

    I bought in Vietnam

    In 1985

     

    Appraised them years ago

    It might have been worth something.

     

    But last time I checked

    It appears that the artist

    Who died a long time ago

    Is now forgotten in Vietnam.

     

    And his artwork probably

    Not worth that much.

     

    But I still like looking at it

    From time to time.

     

    Some day I will have to downsize

    My art collection

    Probably donate most of it.

     

    But, for now, I still like

    Having my collection.

    Hello, all, and welcome back for the first Friday of Na/GloPoWriMo 2025.

    Our featured participant today is Marilyn Letts, whose response to Day Three’s “why I am not a . . . ” prompt is full of wordplay, and wonderfully lyrical.

    Today’s daily resource is the online exhibitions page of the International Folk Art Museum. I have a particular predilection for folk art, in which the strange and boisterous so often finds itself going hand-in-hand with practical objects of daily use. But the museum also showcases work of other sorts, like 100 Aspects of the Moon, a series of woodblock prints completed by the Japanese artist Taisa Yoshitoshi shortly before his death in 1892.

    Last but not least, here’s today’s (optional) prompt. In her poem, “Living with a Painting,” Denise Levertov describes just that. And well, that’s a pretty universal experience, isn’t it? It’s the rare human structure – be it a bedroom, kitchen, dentist’s office, or classroom – that doesn’t have art on its walls, even if it’s only the photos on a calendar. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem about living with a piece of art.

     

    April 5

    Breaking Up with the Vampire Chick

    Vampire
    Vampire

    Joe Lewis played

    In a rock band

    He played lead guitar

    Louder than possible

     

    As he played

    In  a punk band

    In SF

     

    One day he wrote

    An anthem to break up

     

    For his girlfriend

    Who he found out

    Was actually a vampire

     

    She had not yet

    Turned him into one

    But it was a matter

    Of time

     

    His breakup anthem

    “Breaking up

    With the Vampire chick”

    Became a huge hit

     

    His vampire girlfriend

    Came to the concert

     

    That night she bit him

    And he became a vampire

    And had to quit the band.

     

    Happy Saturday, all, and Happy Day Five of Na/GloPoWriMo.

    Today’s featured participant is Moonworld, where the response to Day Four’s “living with a painting” prompt brings us humor and insight in equal measure.

    Our featured resource for the day is the online collection of Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts. There’s much to explore here, but just to get you started, why not peruse their images of beautifully designed and varied musical instruments, ranging from a guitar shaped like the moon to a rattle in the form of a bird that is peering suspiciously at any potential wielder?

    Finally, today’s (optional) prompt is inspired by musical notation, and particularly those little italicized –and often Italian – instructions you’ll find over the staves in sheet music, like con allegro or andante. First, pick a notation from the first column below. Then, pick a musical genre from the second column. Finally, pick at least one word from the third column. Now write a poem that takes inspiration from your musical genre and notation and uses the word or words you picked from the third column.

    “with a hint of frenzy” power ballad sharks
    “the joy is gone” jazz fantasia nonsense
    “smugly saying ‘yeah, I’m better than you’” folk song roses
    “literally go nuts” march departures
    “play terribly” chamber music bones
    “deliciously” symphony infield
    “about to burst” aria concrete
    “crazy eyes here” overture butterflies
    “fade out like my hairline” interstitial wool
    “like you’ve been hit by an arrow” musk vanilla
    “louder than possible” breakup anthem vampire
    “with contempt for imported convertible sports cars” rumba shadow
    “like a naughty, naughty boy “ waltz monument
    “lord have mercy” outlaw country classic clock
    “improvisatory screaming” death metal moonlight
    “tempo di murder” novelty song centaur
    “as roughly as possible” fugue pool
    “gradually becoming a disaster” yacht rock hollyhocks
    “play like you are about to start crying” tango chain
    “obliterate the choir” hymn banquet
    “like 100 tin cans falling out of a Volvo” dubstep snow

    Hat tip to the sadly now-defunct Twitter account Threatening Music Notation for many of the phrases above!

    Writer’s Digest

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Guidelines

    Announcing the 18th annual April Poem-A-Day Challenge on Writer’s Digest. Here are the guidelines for this fun annual poeming challenge that starts on April 1.

     Robert Lee Brewer

    While the world feels as chaotic as it’s ever been recently, some things stay the same. For instance, it’s that time of year when poets around the world need to prepare themselves for daily poeming in April!

    In less than a month, we’ll start meeting here every day to poem for the 2025 April Poem-A-Day (PAD) Challenge. Past participants have included poets from the United States, Canada, Mexico, Spain, Germany, India, Japan, Australia, United Kingdom, South Africa, and several other countries.

    (Plotters vs. Panters in Poetry.)

     

    I’ve run into teachers and students who’ve used the challenge as a way to work poetry into the classroom. I’ve heard from published poets with multiple collections that contain poems inspired by the prompts in these challenges. I’ve also heard from poets who wrote their first ever poems in response to these challenges—and still other poets who’ve claimed the challenge helped rekindle their love of poetry when they thought it was dead. So I know this challenge is equally for beginning and established poets, because it’s a springboard—a way to get started.

    For me personally, I’ve written more than a thousand first drafts from the various prompts on here (and I tend to write even more poems on the site that I don’t share on the site). I hope you’ll join me this year.

     

    What is the April PAD Challenge?

    PAD stands for Poem-A-Day, so this is a challenge in which poets write a poem each day of April. Usually, I’ll post a prompt in the early morning hours (Atlanta, Georgia, time), and poets will write a poem in response.

    Some poets share those poems in the comments on each particular post; others keep their words to themselves. I don’t require comments to participate, but it does make it more fun when poets are sharing with each other.

    Who can participate?

    Anyone who wants to write poetry—whether you’ve been writing all your life or just want to give it a shot now, whether you write free verse or traditional forms, whether you have a certain style or have no clue what you’re doing. The main thing is to poem (and yes, I use poem as a verb).

    I should also note that I’m pretty open to content shared on the blog, but I do expect everyone who plays along in the comments to play nice. There have been moments in the past in which I’ve had to remove or warn folks who got carried away a little with negative and attacks. My main goal is to make the challenge fun for all—and a safe space to poem.

    (That said, please send me an e-mail if you ever feel like someone is crossing the line. I don’t want to act as a censor, don’t use me in that way—but I do want to make sure people aren’t being bullied or attacked in the comments.)

     

    Where do I share my poems?

    If you want to share your poems throughout the month, the best way is to paste your poem in the comments on the post that corresponds with that day’s prompt. For instance, post your poem for the Day 1 prompt on the Day 1 post in the comments.

    You’ll find folks are pretty supportive on this site. And if they’re not, I expect to be notified via e-mail.

    Note on commenting: If you wish to comment on the site, go to Disqus to create a free new account, verify your account on this site below (one-time thing), and then comment away. It’s free, easy, and the comments (for the most part) don’t require manual approval. That said, I will be checking daily during the month of April (just in case any comments are flagged as pending or spam).

     

    Here are some more April PAD Challenge guidelines:

    • Poeming begins April 1 and runs through May 1 (to account for time differences in other parts of the world—and yes, poets all over the world participate).
    • The main purpose of the challenge is to write poems, but I also will attempt to highlight my favorite poems of the month from poets who post their poems to each day’s blog posts. Some years this works out better than others.
    • Poem as you wish, but I will delete poems and comments that I feel are hateful. Also, if anyone abuses this rule repeatedly, I will have them banned from the site. So please “make good choices,” as I tell my children.

    Other rules, questions, concerns, etc?

    If you need any other questions answered, put them in the comments below, and I’ll revise this post as needed.

    Other than that, I can’t wait to start poeming in April!

     

    April 1

    The best of Times and the Worst of Times

    We are living in strange times

    We are living in Sci-fi universe

     

    The best of times in a way

    With the AI and robotic revolution

    Changing everything

     

    Lots of good things

    -= medical research, another research

    Including climate change all now available

    For everyone to use

     

    Easier than ever to do basic research

    Good for writers and students

     

    Driverless vehicles coming

    Domestic robot help

     

    Life extension soon

    A reality

     

    Perhaps cures for cancer

    And other disease?

    And climate change?

     

    Lunar and martian

    Colonies coming?

     

    But on the other hand

    The worst of times

    May lie ahead

     

    Massive unemployment

    Due to AI and robotic revolution

     

    Climate change on super steroids

    out of control

     

    Perhaps even a

    Civilization Ending event

     

    Humans may have to move

    Into underground cities

    Or Domed Cities

     

    As the entire world

    Bake in Death Valley temperatures

    Along with monster storms

    All the time.

     

    And most importantly

    The possible return

    Of the great depression

    Or at least stagflation

     

    And the US may be slipping

    Down the path of becoming

    Another failed illiberal democracy.

     

    For the 18th year in a row, it’s time to rhyme (or not rhyme, because not all poems rhyme, but I wanted to start off with a rhyme) with the 2025 April Poem-A-Day (or PAD) Challenge. And for this year’s challenge, the first prompt of the April PAD Challenge is a “two-for-Tuesday” prompt.

    For the first Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

    • Write a “Best of Times” poem and/or…
    • Write a “Worst of Times” poem.

     

    Yes, because it’s the opening prompt of this challenge, I pulled today’s prompt from the popular opening of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other wayin short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

     

    Write a poem about the “best of times,” “the worst of times,” and/or “the everything Est of times.”

     

    2025 April PAD Challenge: Day 2

    Looking out My Window at the Fake Gimpo Canal

    Gimpo grand canal
    Gimpo Canal

    I live in a high-rise apartment building
    In Gimpo Korea
    Looking out my window

    I see the fake Venice Grand Canal
    I see people walking most days
    And I joined them

    I am one of the few foreign faces
    In a primarily Korean neighborhood
    Sometimes I wonder how and why
    I ended up here

    But most days
    I write a bit
    Play the piano a bit

    I go to the gym
    Take my walk

    Endlessly
    Debate
    the news
    With my wife

    Go out for a meal
    Now and then

    And realize
    I am doing great

    For a 69-year-old man
    And life can be wonderful

    As long as I have

    The love of my wife

    By my side.

    Write a poem a day with the 2025 April PAD Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a “from where I’m sitting” poem.

    Robert Lee Brewer

    Published Apr 2, 2025 12:10 AM PDT

    Wow! What a great way to start the month. I know it’s been a little more challenging to find the prompts this year, because of our mess from changing web platforms, so I’ve created a 2025 April PAD Challenge prompts page that I’ll update daily through the month here.

    For today’s prompt, write a “from where I’m sitting” poem. This is a core poetry prompt I like to use from time to time, and it’s really an observation prompt. From where you’re sitting (or standing) at this moment, find something, someone, etc., that interests you and write a poem. In the past, I’ve written poems about people at the laundromat, inanimate objects (like one about the anatomy of a pencil), and animals I see outside the window of my office. So take a look around and start poeming.

    Day 3 Short forms to try

     

    DOGE Cutbacks Loom  Lune

     

    DOGE Cutbacks Loom

    The U.S. launches trade war

    Great Depression 2.0 fears

     

    Well, I always say that people who make it through the first three days have the best chance of making it through the entire month. So, let’s do this!

    For today’s prompt, write a short poem. In my mind, I’m thinking of a poem that’s like 10 lines or fewer, but there are other ways to come at this one (in other words, don’t limit yourself to my thinking). The poem could be about a short person or object. Also, I wasn’t thinking about the stock market when I made my list of prompts, but hey, maybe there’s a poetic stockbroker up to the challenge.

    Also, getting back to what I was thinking, here are a few short poetic forms poets can try if they’d like:

    • Lune. A three-liner, also known as the American Haiku.

    The lune is also known as the American Haiku. It was first created by the poet Robert Kelly (truly a great poet) and was a result of Kelly’s frustration with English haiku. After much experimentation, he settled on a 13-syllable, self-contained poem that has 5 syllables in the first line, 3 syllables in the second line and 5 syllable in the final line.

    Unlike haiku, there are no other rules. No need for a cutting word. Rhymes are fine; subject matter is open. While there are less syllables to use, this form has a little more freedom.

    There is a variant lune created by poet Jack Collom. His form is also a self-contained tercet, but his poem is word-based (not syllable-based) and has the structure of 3 words in the first line, 5 words in the second line and 3 words in the final line.

     

    • Shadorma. A Spanish six-liner.
    • Triolet. The French eight-liner I used on Day 1 of this challenge.
    • Rispetto. An Italian eight-liner.
    • Tricubes. Three stanzas of three lines of three syllables

    April 4

    Trade War Starts  Shadorma

     

    Trade War Starts

    Liberation day

    Who knows why

    Such a mess

    World united No mas

    Markets in free fall

    Criteria

     

    I recently discovered a poetic form called shadorma (thanks to P.J. Nights via Tammy Trendle) that I had no record of in my two poetic form handbooks. Shadorma is a Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable lines, respectively. Simple as that.

    April 5

    After the Next Election Triolet Poem

    After the next election,

    A blue wave sweeps the land,

    the U.S. goes in a new direction.

    After the next election

    the people take a stand

    After the next election

    A blue wave sweeps the land

     

    A (first line)
    B (second line)
    a (rhymes with first line)
    A (repeat first line)
    a (rhymes with first line)
    b (rhymes with second line)
    A (repeat first line)
    B (repeat second line)

    Our first weekend of April. Let’s keep the poems rolling.

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “After (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “After Hours,” “After a Good Movie,” “After a Quick One,” “After the Encore,” and/or “After a While.”

    • Triolet. The French eight-liner I used on Day 1 of this challenge.

    Today, we’re going to look at the triolet (TREE-o-LAY), which has 13th century French roots linked to the rondeau or “round” poem. For over a year now, I’ve been trying to find a way to use the repetitive line heard so often in airport terminals: “The moving sidewalk is about to end.”

    (5 ways to revise poems.)

    The triolet is perfect for this kind of repetition, because the first line of the poem is used 3 times and the second line is used twice. If you do the math on this 8-line poem, you’ll realize there are only 3 other lines to write: 2 of those lines rhyme with the first line, the other rhymes with the second line.

    Here’s a diagram of the triolet:

    A (first line)
    B (second line)
    a (rhymes with first line)
    A (repeat first line)
    a (rhymes with first line)
    b (rhymes with second line)
    A (repeat first line)
    B (repeat second line)

    For some more on the triolet, check out the following links:

     

    Poetry Super Highway

    April 1

    Joe Lewis Federal Censor in Charge

    Joe Lewis

    Was appointed a secret government agent

    Working with DOGE

    To clean up the Federal government’s

    Communication With the public and the media.

     

    The list of forbidden words

    Had leaked

    And many government employees

    Were simply not paying attention

     

    Joe wrote an all government email

    That unfortunately leaked

     

    The email  got to the point

     

    Dear Federal Employee

     

    It has come to our attention

    That some of you are still

    Using forbidden words

    That are biased towards

    Particular racial groups

     

    Are divisive, DEI, woke

    Pro-LGBTQ,

     

    including

    Discussions regarding gender issues

    And discussions regarding

    climate change policy

     

    In your official

    and unofficial communication

     

    Given that we are going to be

    Implementing a government-wide

    RIF, you need to ensure

    That all your communications

    Including social media postings

    Are in full compliance

    With stated government directives

     

    And assume everything

    Is being monitored

    To ensure said compliance

     

    Just a reminder

    You are also prohibited

    From discussing your work

    With people outside the government

    Including friends, family members

    The media, members of Congress

    Without explicit authorization

     

    Anyone using forbidden words

    Or talking to people outside

    The government

    Or attending political rallies

    Protesting government polices

     

    Or refusing to inform

    On such activities

    By your colleages

     

    Will be deemed to be disloyal

    To the President’s agenda

     

    And you will be subjected

    to being added

    To the RIF list

    For insubordination.

     

    And this may also affect

    Eligibility for pension coverage

     

    And even referral to the DOJ

    for criminal prosecution

    In cases of suspected leaking

    Of sensitive information.

    Including this email.

     

    This is your final warning.

    The current list is included

    And will be updated weekly

     

    Your are responsible

    To ensure all communications

    Including phone calls

    Do not include any of these

    Forbidden phrases.

     

    April 1, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from D.L. Lang

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by D.L. Lang:

    Write a poem using as many words as possible from the list of federally banned words located at: https://dianeravitch.net/2025/03/08/trumps-list-of-banned-words-its-worse-than-you-thought/

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

     

    As President Trump seeks to purge the federal government of “woke” initiatives, agencies have flagged hundreds of words to limit or avoid, according to a compilation of government documents.

    • accessible
    • activism
    • activists
    • advocacy
    • advocate
    • advocates
    • affirming care
    • all-inclusive
    • allyship
    • anti-racism
    • antiracist
    • assigned at birth
    • assigned female at birth
    • assigned male at birth
    • at risk
    • barrier
    • barriers
    • belong
    • bias
    • biased
    • biased toward
    • biases
    • biases towards
    • biologically female
    • biologically male
    • BIPOC
    • Black
    • breastfeed + people
    • breastfeed + person
    • chestfeed + people
    • chestfeed + person
    • clean energy
    • climate crisis
    • climate science
    • commercial sex worker
    • community diversity
    • community equity
    • confirmation bias
    • cultural competence
    • cultural differences
    • cultural heritage
    • cultural sensitivity
    • culturally appropriate
    • culturally responsive
    • DEI
    • DEIA
    • DEIAB
    • DEIJ
    • disabilities
    • disability
    • discriminated
    • discrimination
    • discriminatory
    • disparity
    • diverse
    • diverse backgrounds
    • diverse communities
    • diverse community
    • diverse group
    • diverse groups
    • diversified
    • diversify
    • diversifying
    • diversity
    • enhance the diversity
    • enhancing diversity
    • environmental quality
    • equal opportunity
    • equality
    • equitable
    • equitableness
    • equity
    • ethnicity
    • excluded
    • exclusion
    • expression
    • female
    • females
    • feminism
    • fostering inclusivity
    • GBV
    • gender
    • gender based
    • gender based violence
    • gender diversity
    • gender identity
    • gender ideology
    • gender-affirming care
    • genders
    • Gulf of Mexico
    • hate speech
    • health disparity
    • health equity
    • hispanic minority
    • historically
    • identity
    • immigrants
    • implicit bias
    • implicit biases
    • inclusion
    • inclusive
    • inclusive leadership
    • inclusiveness
    • inclusivity
    • increase diversity
    • increase the diversity
    • indigenous community
    • inequalities
    • inequality
    • inequitable
    • inequities
    • inequity
    • injustice
    • institutional
    • intersectional
    • intersectionality
    • key groups
    • key people
    • key populations
    • Latinx
    • LGBT
    • LGBTQ
    • marginalize
    • marginalized
    • men who have sex with men
    • mental health
    • minorities
    • minority
    • most risk
    • MSM
    • multicultural
    • Mx
    • Native American
    • non-binary
    • nonbinary
    • oppression
    • oppression
    • oppressive
    • orientation
    • people + uterus
    • people-centered care
    • person-centered
    • person-centered care
    • polarization
    • political
    • pollution
    • pregnant people
    • pregnant person
    • pregnant persons
    • prejudice
    • privilege
    • privileges
    • promote diversity
    • promoting diversity
    • pronoun
    • pronouns
    • prostitute
    • race
    • race and ethnicity
    • racial
    • racial diversity
    • racial identity
    • racial inequality
    • racial justice
    • racially
    • racism
    • segregation
    • sense of belonging
    • sex
    • sexual preferences
    • sexuality
    • social justice
    • sociocultural
    • socioeconomic
    • status
    • stereotype
    • stereotypes
    • systemic
    • systemically
    • they/them
    • trans
    • transgender
    • transsexual
    • trauma
    • traumatic
    • tribal
    • unconscious bias
    • underappreciated
    • underprivileged
    • underrepresentation
    • underrepresented
    • underserved
    • undervalued
    • victim
    • victims
    • vulnerable populations
    • women
    • women and underrepresented
    • Notes: Some terms listed with a plus sign represent combinations of words that, when used together, acknowledge transgender people, which is not in keeping with the current federal government’s position that there are only two, immutable sexes. Any term collected above was included on at least one agency’s list, which does not necessarily imply that other agencies are also discouraged from using it.
    • The above terms appeared in government memos, in official and unofficial agency guidance and in other documents viewed by The New York Times. Some ordered the removal of these words from public-facing websites, or ordered the elimination of other materials (including school curricula) in which they might be included.

    • In other cases, federal agency managers advised caution in the terms’ usage without instituting an outright ban. Additionally, the presence of some terms was used to automatically flag for review some grant proposals and contracts that could conflict with Mr. Trump’s executive orders.

    • The list is most likely incomplete. More agency memos may exist than those seen by New York Times reporters, and some directives are vague or suggest what language might be impermissible without flatly stating it.

    • All presidential administrations change the language used in official communications to reflect their own policies. It is within their prerogative, as are amendments to or the removal of web pages, which The Times 
      has foundhas already happened thousands of times in this administration.

    • Still, the words and phrases listed here represent a marked — and remarkable — shift in the corpus of language being used both in the federal government’s corridors of power and among its rank and file. They are an unmistakable reflection of this administration’s priorities.

    April 2, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Christina M Rau

     

     Robot athletics

     

    Humanoid robots

    Continued to improve

    And some sports teams

    Allowed robot athletes

    To compete

    In most sports

     

    But limited to ten percent

    Of the team

     

    Baseball lead the way

    Many robot players

    Became proficient

    Often in double header

    Baseball games

     

    The NY Yankees

    Became know

    As the Robot Yankees

     

    The public was initially dubious

    But came around

     

    The team owners saved

    A fortune in salaries

     

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Christina M Rau:

    It’s almost that time of year: the MLB, NBA, NFL, and NHL fall into full swing all at once in the U. S., it’s time to put sports in perspective–a speculative perspective. Here’s your word bank with sports-related words. Write a poem with a speculative aspect to see how this vocabulary translates to other realms or how non-human creatures fair at human athletics.

    arena baton

    doubleheader

    driving hitter

    guard

    halftime kayaking league

    polo

    mallet

    race

    sledder

    stadium trampoline

    bogie

    umpire

    volley

    mitt

    Nordic

    bunt

    cleat

    javelin

    scull

    tether

    win

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

    April 3

    April 3, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Mary Anne Abdo

    Good sleaze Shadorma

     

    Soi Cowboy

    In Bangkok, Thailand

    Example

    Of good sleaze

    Some do not see it in that way

    but even here beauty

    April 4, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Shelly Reed Thieman

    First memories of eating Thanksgiving Turkey

     

    I grew up in Berkeley, California

    Almost 70 years ago

     

    My first memories of eating Thanksgiving Dinner

    Occurred when I was perhaps four years old?

     

    My mom cooked a full Southern Style feast

    As she had grown in Little Rock, Arkansas

     

    Roasted turkey, stuffing, gravy,  sweet potatoes with mushrooms,

    Greens, grits and pumpkin pie and apple pie a la mode for dessert

     

    And to this day, I recall

    The great Southern style feasts I had

    Every Thanksgiving and Christmas!

    April 5

    I am

     

    I am Jake Cosmos Aller

    The one and only

    Born in Oakland, California

    A Baby Boomer in 1955

     

    I am unique

    I have 18 nationalities

    Flowing in my blood lines.

     

    I am a man

    Who followed

    his own dreams.

     

    I was a Peace Corps Volunteer

    I was a teacher overseas

    I was a US Diplomat

     

    For 27 years

    Serving my country

    In over ten countries

     

    And now I am retired

    And a blogger

    And poet.

     

    But most importantly

    I met and married

    The girl of my Dreams

     

    And that made

    Me who I am today.

    April 5, 2025: Poetry Writing Prompt from Jackie Chou

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Jackie Chou:

    Write an “I Am” poem using Anne Sexton’s “Love Song” as an example but not restricted to her writing style.

    LOVE SONG

    I was
    the girl of the chain letter,
    the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes,
    the one of the telephone bills,
    the wrinkled photo and the lost connections,
    the one who kept saying–
    Listen! Listen!
    We must never! We must never!
    and all those things…

    the one
    with her eyes half under her coat,
    with her large gun-metal blue eyes,
    with the thin vein at the bend of her neck
    that hummed like a tuning fork,
    with her shoulders as bare as a building,
    with her thin foot and her thin toes,
    with an old red hook in her mouth,
    the mouth that kept bleeding
    in the terrible fields of her soul…

    the one
    who kept dropping off to sleep,
    as old as a stone she was,
    each hand like a piece of cement,
    for hours and hours
    and then she’d wake,
    after the small death,
    and then she’d be as soft as,
    as delicate as…

    as soft and delicate as
    an excess of light,
    with nothing dangerous at all,
    like a beggar who eats
    or a mouse on a rooftop
    with no trap doors,
    with nothing more honest
    than your hand in her hand–
    with nobody, nobody but you!
    and all those things.
    nobody, nobody but you!
    Oh! There is no translating
    that ocean,
    that music,
    that theater,
    that field of ponies.

    -Anne Sexton

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

     

    Dew Drop Inn Prompts

     

    Here at the Dew Drop Inn, we gather together to write a poem a day in April as a way to celebrate National Poetry Month.

    April 1—Folly
    April 2—Vote
    April 3—Render an assessment, evaluation, or judgement
    April 4—TGIF
    April 5—Chekhov or another Russian writer

    April 6—Death Cafe
    April 7—Blues
    April 8—Blood
    April 9—Hump of the week
    April 10—Memory

    April 11—Rain
    April 12—Safety
    April 13—Greenery
    April 14—Sky
    April 15—Death and taxes

    April 16—Friends
    April 17—Teeth
    April 18—Good Friday
    April 19—Airplane
    April 20—Easter eggs (hide something delightful in your poem!)

    April 21—A country not your own
    April 22—Earth Day
    April 23—Shakespeare
    April 24—Duty
    April 25—Care giving

    April 26—Travel
    April 27—Duty
    April 28—Back to work
    April 29—Birds
    April 30—Ars poetica

    April Poems for Dew Drop In post daily

     

    April 1—Folly

     

    It is an act

    Of pure folly

     

    Foolish

    To think that

    What is going on

    In the US it is normal

     

    It is not

    And things are going

    To get much worst

     

     

    April 2—Vote

    donald trump
    donald trump

     

    Vote

    Perhaps

    that is that last

    chance

     

    the US has to stop

    the slide towards

    incipient fascism

     

    but perhaps

    it won’t matter

    since so many people

     

    just don’t care

    or are afraid

    to speak out

     

    April 3—Render an assessment, evaluation, or judgment

    History Will Not Be Kind

    History will not be kind

    To us humans.

     

    We had a chance

    To save the world

    From environmental disaster.

     

    Due to ignorance, greed

    And fear

    Humans refused to change

    Their destructive ways.

     

    We all failed

    Especially our leaders,

    Continuing our old ways

     

    Acting as if

    Climate change

    It is not a real thing.

     

    As Death Valley temperatures

    Became the norm

    The whole world

     

    Turning the whole world

    Into a desert planet

    With dead oceans

    And arid wastelands.

     

    Humanity was faced

    With having to move

    Into underground shelters

     

    Or move to Martian and Lunar

    Underground colonies

    Humanity almost

    became extinct

    at a Civilization Ending Event.

     

    April 4—TGIF

     

    TGIF has closed

    Part of the changing

    Restaurant environment

     

    Many people are not going out

    As much as before.

    Just too expensive

    People are hunkering down.

     

    Not feeling social

    Apprehensive, scared

     

    Fearing the return of stagflation

    High inflation, high unemployment

    Political and economic chaos.

     

    As the worldwide trade war

    The highest tariff rates in over 100 years

    Trading partners vowing to retaliate

     

    DOGE chainsaw slashing

    Of the Federal government and programs,

    Mass federal government layoffs.

     

    AI taking over jobs

    Robot workers everywhere

     

    Mass deportations

    Stock market tanking

    Begins to take effect

     

    Exhausted Americans

    Working too hard

    Staying home for now

     

    Many other chains

    Are closing

     

    Fast food chains

    High-end places

    And ethnic food restaurants

    Are doing okay

    April 5—Chekhov or another Russian writer

    Reading “ Crime and Punishment”

     

    Reading Dostoevsky’s

    “Crime and Punishment”

    “the Idiot”

    And the “Gambler”

    Years ago

     

    I realized how little things

    Have really changed

     

    And how much his portrayal

    Of the dark side of humanity

    It is still relevant today.

     

    Bonus Weekly Challenge Poems for April

     

    Hello Poets!!!

    Tomorrow is April 1st and the beginning of National Poetry Month!

    Therefore, anyone who completes prompts 34, 35, 36, 37, and 38 by April 30 will receive a special gift, which I have yet to determine.

    So, let’s get started! Here is this week’s prompt!

    PPC5 – Prompt 34 (3/31)”   

    Have a wonderful week!

    Prompt 34

     

    The seasons of the year 2024

     

    Winter started with Arctic blasts

    Polar vortexes

    Political turmoil everywhere

    and fear of the future.

     

    Spring came and went too soon

    I remained in Korea until late Spring

    Yellow dust in the air,

    Spreading Political turmoil

     

    Summertime in the US is hot, with the fear of wildfires

    Went to the US  DC, Oregon, California

    Political earthquakes in the U.S. continued

    Stayed many months dealing with renovations

     

    In the autumn, I attended the 50th High School reunion

    Grateful, I am still alive and kicking

    Thinking about the future of the world,

    Wondering what it will mean for me?

     

    Use the following words in your poem

    Winter  Spring  Summer  Autumn

     

    • Poem should be inspired by the prompt/image in some way
      A minimum of 12 lines, no maximum
      There are no form requirements

    Substack

    Substack

    Substack Podcast

    Substack Podcast

    Medium

    Medium

    Wattpad

    WAttpad

    Spotify Podcast

    SPotify Podcast

  • Books Read 2024

    Books Read 2024

    Books Read 2024

    Close up of books on desk in library.
    Close up of books on desk in library.

    https://wp.me/p7NAzO-3gN0

    BN 2024 Best List

    time list of best books for 2024

    Books Read 2024

    Cosmos Books Read 2021 Update

    1001 Books to Read Before You Die List

    Cosmos Books Read 2020 Revised

    Books Read 2020Books read 2019

    books read during 2018

    books read

    Ode to Unread Books on my Bookshelf

    Goals:

    read a lot more classic books finish the three volume series, 50 books You Need to Read Before You DIe and Harvard Classics

    Read A Lot More Poetry

    Read At Least One Book A Year in Spanish  starting with Pablo Neruda poems.

    Read At Least One Book A Year in Korean starting with bilingual short stories

    This year I read a lot of books, and lots of individual poems and stories.  I kept track of all my reviews I do daily on fan story and writing com but did not list them here as that was too unreadable and boring to post.

    Total Numerical listing

    books read

    The List – fiction/non-fiction/poetry

    Fiction

    Classics

    1. Virginia Woolf Jacob’s Room
    2. Alcot Little Woman
    3. Balzac, Honoré DE: Father Goriot
    4. Lucy Maud Montgomery The Story Girl
    5. Willa Cather My Antonia
    6. Author Connor Doyle’s The Lost World
    7. Barbusse, Henri: The Inferno REVIEW DUE
    8. Butler, Samuel: The Way OF All Flesh
    9. Brontë, Anne: The Tenant OF Wildfell Hall
    10. Peston and Child the Pharoch Key
    11. Liz Wiehl The Candidate
    12. Grisholm Camino Island

    Flashman Novels

    1. George Mac Donald Fraser Flashman And The Redskins
    2. George Macdonald Fraser Flashman And The Angel Of The Lord
    3. George Macdonald Fraser Flashman On The March
    4. George Mac Donald Frazer Flashman And The Dragon

    Thrillers/Crime

    1. Janet Evanovich To Nines
    2. Liz Wiehl The Candidate Medford Library
    3. John Grisham Camino Ghosts Medford Library
    4. Harlan Coben Think Twice Medford Library
    5. David Baldacci The 6:20 Man Camp H Library

     

    1. Frederick Pohl Collected Stories Medford Library

      1. THE Merchant OF Venus
      2. The Thing That Happen
      3. The Hight Test
      4. My Lady Greensleeves
      5. The Kindly Isle
      6. The Middle OF Nowhere
      7. I REMEMBER A Winter
      8. The Greening OF Bed Stuv
      9. The Map Makers
      10. Spending A Day AT THE Lottery Fair
      11. Celebrating No Hit Inning
      12. Some Joys Under The Star
      13. Servant Of The People

    Anderson Stories

      1. Anderson FABLES THE Almshouse
      2. Anderson FABLES THE Angel

    Poetry

     

    Total: 3,000 poems including fan story review, writing com review and selected classic poems -some listed below.

    Selected Poems by Famous Writers  etc

    Christopher Micheal Nuclear Orange Cupid is the Devil

    I received this book last year for participating in the Poetry Superhighway annual poetry contest.

    Christopher Michael is a published poet who lives in Austin, Texas and has been winning poetry slams since 1989 when he entered his first slam.

    the book contains the following poems ==

    Tea Em Eye

    Haiku

    Father

    Imagine

    The Boys

    Not A Thief

    The Gravityof Pity

    Job Application

    Plugs To Give

    Fakery

    Political Stuff

     

    Glass House

    Mr. Bullet Goes To Work

    Zombie Swarm

    Bee Swarm

    Eye  Am Here For You

    The October Menace

    Herbicide Maniac

    Bacon

    She’s Black

    Flash And America

     

    The Flash and the Fireball

     

    Feeling Her

    SIN

    Theoretical Love

    Baby

    The Muse

    Love And Landmines

    Skeletons And  Corny Jokes

    Dookie Man

    Belly Buttons

    Severed Fingers And Heavy Bags

    The Firestorm

    Razors And Regrets

    The Relapse

    Love Turns Cowards Into Lions

    The Fall Out

    Nuclear Orange

    Fields Of Flammable Fantasies

    Zombie Loss

    I Warned You

    BJ Buckley In January the Geese

    I received this book last year for participating in the Poetry Superhighway annual poetry contest.  Everyone who enters gets a book of poetry for participating.  The contest opens in July and closes around labor day, winners are announced in October. I have also participated in the annual poetry chapbook give away challenge which is held in November.

    There are 26 poems in this book. The poems are based on the author’s lived experience growing up on a farm in rural Wyoming and Montana. A number of the poems are written from the animal’s point of view.  For example, In January the geese, first bear, long division. box with bugs, night herding, pronghorn elegy, rescue last rites.

    the poems are:

    1. Upthrust
    2. in January, the geese
    3. first bear
    4. long division
    5. gates
    6. C store 5:00 AM
    7. fields
    8. burn pile
    9. Sunriver
    10. slamming
    11. hard frost
    12. seed
    13. on Sunday morning
    14. box with bugs
    15. Watchman
    16. Funeral
    17. night herding
    18. Instrument
    19. almost July
    20. instrument
    21. pronghorn Elegy
    22. rescue
    23. towards evening Teton river
    24. infinite haze
    25. September
    26. bad shot
    27. last rites

    Wade Riddle

    I received this book for entering the Poetry Superhighway annual contest

    1. Groove Power Of Summer
    2. Wade Riddle Summer In Santa Monica Power Of Summer
    3. Wade Riddle The Tom Hardy Party Power Of Summer
    4. Wade Riddle Kiss Me Chris Pine Power Of Summer
    5. Wade Riddle Dance To The Beat Of The Beach Boy’s Power Of Summer
    6. Wade Riddle The Power Of Summer Power Of Summer
    7. Wade Riddle L.A. Blue Power Of Summer
    8. Wade Riddle Take Me Home To Venice Beach Power Of Summer
    9. Wade Riddle’s An Ode To A Summer’s Song
    10. Wade Riddle Chocolate Man Children Horror

    Lawrence  Ferlinghetti A Coney Island of the Mind

    I Am Waiting

    1. Junkman’s Obbligat0
    2. In Goya’s Gardens
    3. Autobiography
    4. The Changing Ligh
    5. Sometime During Eternity
    6. The World Is a Beautiful Place to Drown In
    7. The Great American Poem

    9 Poem #1 10

    TS Elliot

    The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock  ,

    The Waste Land

    Franz Kafka Surreal Prose Poems

    1. An Imperial Message
    2. Pekin And The Emperor
    3. The News Of The Building Of The Wall: A Fragment
    4. The Great Wall And The Tower Of Babel
    5. The Building Of The Temple
    6. Prometheus
    7. Poseidon
    8. The Sirens
    9. The New Attorney
    10. The Building Of A City
    11. The Imperial Colonel
    12. The Green Dragon
    13. The Tiger
    14. The Truth About Sancho Panza
    15. Robinson Crusoe
    16. My Destination

    Maya Angelous

    Insomniac

    When You Come

    Passing Time

    A Conceit

    The

    Gwendolyn Brooks

    We Real Cool

    Charles Bukowsk

    i And The Moon And The Stars And The World

    Emily Dickison

    A Book

    Faith” Is A Fine Invention

    Ronald Dahl

    Hot and Cold

     

    Robert Frost

    Two Roads Diverge

    Road Not Taken

    Nothing Gold Can Stay

    A Question

    The Rose Family

    After Apple-Picking)

    The Death Of The Hired Man.

    Mending Wall.

    Birches

    Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening.

    Tree In My Window.

    Directive.

    Langton Hughes

    My People

    Dreams

    Suicide’s Note

    Mother to Son

     Spike Milligan

    A Silly Poem

    Ogden Nash

    Word To Husbands

    Dorothy Parker

    A Very Short Song

    Edgar Allen Poe

    Anabel Lee

    Vikram Seith

    All You Who Sleep Tonight

     

    William Carlos Williams

    the red wheel barrel

    This Is Just To Say

     

    Villanelle

     W.H. Auden’s

    “If I Could Tell You”

     

    Elizabeth Bishop’s

    “One Art”

     

    Leonard Cohen

    “A Villanelle for Our Time”

    Edmund Gosse “

    Villanelle”

    Dylan Thomas

    “Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night”

    Vision and Prayer

    Jean Passerat’s poem

    “Villanelle (I Lost My Turtledove),

    Wilde’s

    “A Villanelle”

    Interlocking Rubiyat

    Carol Ward Day

    Fitzgerald

    Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

    Mike Montreuil

    Yesterday

    Jainrohit

    Rubaiyat

    concrete Poems

    Lewis Carrol

    The Mouse’s Tail  

     

    E.E. Cumming

    sr-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r

    Senryu

     

    Al Pizzarelli

    the Fat Lady

     

    Anon. Senryu

    (early 18th century)The bird set free,

    •  He shuts His Eyes

    (early 18th century) Last Night

    • Sazanka

    Losing his job

    (early 18th century) “Make a profit

    Alexis Rotella

     

    Trying to forget him

     

    George Swede

     

    Unhappy wife

    Marlene Mountain

     

    The leans on the gate going staying

    Anita Virgil

    After the child’s funeral –

    Jack Kerouac’s Kicking the Icebox

     

    Chatuska Russian LImerick

    Annyomous  Mother, Spare Me, Don’t Scold Me
    Kolkhoz Life

    Time Got Shifted By An Hour

    Political And Anti-Religious Propaganda

    We Remember Lenin’s Words

     Margaret Atwood

    Siren Song

    Robert Hayden

    a  Plague of Starlings

    Ava Hofmann’s

    [A woman wandered into a thicket]  ,

    Natalie Diaz

    From the Desire Field 

    Ruth Fainlight

    The Prism 

    1. B. Shelley

    Ozymandias 

    Shakespeare

    Sonnet 138

    .Annyomous

    Beowulf  ,

    William Blake

    The Tyger

    Robert Burns

    A Red, Red Rose

    John Keats.

    Ode to a Nightingale

    Daddy

    Dr love Jesus

    ABC to my imaginary friend

    Camusat

     Finding Truth

    Stuart Witt

    Precedent

    George Herbert

    Easter Wings

    Patty Mazurka

    Your Last September

    Ubi Sunt Poems

     

    Francis VIllon  ubi sunt  “Ballade des dames du temps jadis” (“Ballad of the Ladies of Times Past”)

    “Where are the snows of yesteryear?”

    Thomas Nashe’s

    “Adieu, Farewell, Earth’s Bliss,”

    Sir Philph Sidney

    “Astrophel  Stella CII: ‘Where be the roses gone, which sweetened so our eyes?’”,

    Mark Strang

    “Where Are the Waters of Childhood?”

    James Macpherson‘s

    ”          translation” of Ossian. The eighth of Macpherson’s Fragments of Ancient Poetry (1760)

    Fingal (1761)

    Temora (1763),

    Pete Seeger

    Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”

    Paula Cole’s 1997 hit song

    “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone.”

    Bonnie Tyler’s 1984 hit,

    “Holding Out for a Hero”,

    Joseph Heller’s 1961

    novel Catch-22,

    Martin Amis’

    The War Against Cliché

    Irish Rose

    Frosted Fantasy ABC Poem

    Ava Hofmann’s

    [A woman wandered into a thicket]  ,

    Natalie Diaz

    From the Desire Field 

    Ruth Fanlight

    The Prism 

     Choka Yamanoue no Okura

    Eating Melons

     

    Limericks

     

    Dayton Voorhees

    There Once Was A Man From Nantucket

    Edward Lear

    There Was An Old Man In A Tree,

    There Was An Old Man With A Beard,
    There Was A Young Lady Of Ryde,
    There Was An Old Man Of Quebec,
    There Was A Young Lady Whose Bonnet,
    There Was A Young Belle Of Old Natchez

    There Was A Young Lady Of Station,

    Hickory Dickory Dock

    There Was A Small Boy Of Quebec,
    A Demi-Young Author Named Jong

    Our Novels Get Longa And Longa

    WH Auden

    Limerick

    Lewis Carroll

    Lucy O’Finner

    William Shakespeare

    Othello

    Japanese death poems

     

    As the Nigerian Naira steadily falls, the economy crumbles

    Yuan Chonghuan

    A life’s work totals to nothing

    Xia Wanchun

    I have been on the path of the war for three years

    Yang Jisheng Bear

    righteousness and the way on a shoulder of iron,

    Wen Tianxiang

    Confucius speaks of perfecting nobility

    — Zen monk Kozan Ichikyo (1283–1360)[11]

    Fujiwara no Teishi,

    If you remember the promises between us,

    Tadamichi Kuribayashi

    Unable to complete this heavy task for our country

    Takarai Kikaku

    Falling ill on a journey

    Moriya Sen’an

    Bury me when I die

    Korean death poems

    Seong Sam-mun

    What shall I become when this body is dead and gone?
    As the sound of drum calls for my life,

     

    Jo Gwang-jo (조광조;

    I loved the king as if he were my father

    Chŏng Mong-ju

    Should this body die and die again a hundred times over,

    Hwang Hyun

    Birds and beasts cry in sorrow and the mountains and oceans frown

    Matsuo Basho

     Old Pond

    Groot

     

    Piet Hein

    Missing Link

    Road To Wisdom

    Prescription

    Timing Toast
    Circumscripture

     

    Best American Poetry 2023

     

    Will Alexander the Polish mathematics

    Michael Ania covering standups.

    Ray Armitage fortune

    WHR then we get the dialectic fairly well.

    Martin Bell and a definite player

    Charles Bernstein people

    Mark Bibbins from 13 balloons

    Lee Ann Brown as an American

    Kamryn Alexa Castro Yes

    Mariane Chan the shape of Biddle City

    Victoria Chang World’s End

    Maxi         ne Chernoff the Songbird Academy

    Kwame Dawes Photo Shoot

    Alex Demetrio the years

    Stuart Disc hell after the exhibition

    Timothy Daniel Instagram

    Boris Dayak Days at the Races

    Joana Fuhrman 330 College Avenue

    Amy Gerstle Night Herons

    Peter Gizzi revisionary

    Herbert Gold’s other news

    Terrene Hayes Strange as the rule of grammar

    Robert Herston All Right

    Paul Hoover abominations, afternoon

    Shirley Jackson’s Best Original Enigma

    Patrica Spears Jones the Devil’s wife explains 45.

    Ilay Kaminsky, I ask that I not die.

    Vincent Katz’s A Marvelous Sky

    John Keen Straight No Chaser

    Miho Kinas’ Three Shrimp Boats

    Wayne kepstrum Misran Master Craftsman

    Yusef Komunyakaa from the autobiography

    Michale Lay I meant to

    Dorothea Lasky Green Moon John Yao zone

    Bernadette Ayer Pi Day

    Maureen Mc Lane Moonrise

    Yusef Michael tablet 6

    Stephen Paul Miller dating Buddha

    Susan Mitchell Chaplin in Palma

    Backus more extraordinary life

    diesel to social in several invoices

    Elliot Mullen as I wander lonely in the cloud Kathy and also the facts.

    Eugene Austin Husky from the fainting feeling Sonnets You Go Out Tomorrow.

    Sunday game

    Marine Owen in space surface tensional force

    John Phillips’s film theory

    Catholic bullet round front shirt

    Caroline Marie Rodgers phone number two my kind of feminism

    Jerome Sarah’s Something I’m Not Hot takes in Spiderman her dark drama.

    Turkey Tim civils all the time

    Diana’s success little few state

    David Shapiro lost all of Jesus.

    Mitch Siskin only tough woes

    Amanda Smeltz Green goddess girls in blacks Cole Swensen’s various gloves out

    Arthur Sze wildlife season OK

    Diane Thiel Listening in Deep Space

    Rodrigo Toscano Full House

    Tony Trigilio The Steeplejack

    David Trinidad the poems attributed to Him May Be by Different poets.

    Anne Waldman’s three poems form 13 Moon Kora

    Sarah Anne Wallen, I can see Mars.

    Elizbeth Winch and What My Species Did

    Terrence Winch Gear Sizzle

    Jeff Cyphers Wright Sweepstakes

    John Yau Song for Mie Yum

    Geoffrey Young Parrel Bars

    Jeffrey Young parallel bars

    Matthews’sZaprudar the empty grave of Zza Zaza Gabor

    Harvard Classics

    The volumes are:

    Bolded read

    Franklin, Woolman, Penn

    Plato, Epictetus,

    Marcus, Aurelius Meditations

    (3) Bacon,

    Milton’s Prose,

    Thomas Browne

    (4) Complete Poems in English: Milton

    (5) Essays and English Traits: Emerson (

    6) Poems and Songs: Burns (7)

    Confessions of St. Augustine. Imitation of Christ

    (8) Nine Greek Dramas (9) Letters and Treatises of Cicero and Pliny

    (10) Wealth of Nations: Adam Smith

    (11) Origin of Species: Darwin

    (12) Plutarch’s Lives (13)

    Aeneid Virgil (14)

    Don Quixote Part 1: Cervantes

    (15) Pilgrim’s Progress. Donne

    Herbert. Bunyan, Walton

    (16) The Thousand and One Night

    (17) Folk-Lore and Fable. Aesop, Grimm,

    Andersen

    Hans Christian Anderson’s Fairy Tales

    (18) Modern English Drama

    (19) Faust, Egmont Etc. Doctor Faustus, Goethe, Marlowe

    (20) The Divine Comedy: Dante

    (21) I Promessi

    Sposi,

    Manzoni

    (22) The Odyssey: Homer

    (23) Two Years Before the Mast. Dana

    (24) On the Sublime French Revolution Etc. Burke

    (25) Autobiography Etc. Essays and Addresses:

    J.S. Mill,

    T. Carlyle

    (26) Continental Drama

    (27) English Essays: Sidney to Macaulay

    (28) Essays. English and American

    (29) Voyage of the Beagle: Darwin (

    30) Faraday,

    Helmholtz,

    Kelvin,

    Newcomb,

    Geikie

    (31) Autobiography: Benvenuto,

    Cellini

    (32) Literary and Philosophical Essays: Montaigne,

    Sainte Beuve,

    Renan,

    Lessing,

    Schiller,

    Kant,

    Mazzini

    (33) Voyages and Travels

    (34) Descartes,

    Voltaire,

    Rousseau,

    Hobbes

    (35) Chronicle and Romance:

    Froissart,

    Malory,

    Holinshed (36)

    Machiavelli,

    More,

    Luther

    (37) Locke,

    Berkeley

    , Hume

    (38) Harvey,

    Jenner,

    Lister,

    Pasteur

    (39) Famous Prefaces

    (40) English Poetry 1: Chaucer to Gray

    (41) English Poetry 2: Collins to Fitzgerald

    (42) English Poetry 3: Tennyson to Whitman

    (43) American Historical Documents

    (44) Sacred Writings 1

    (45) Sacred Writings 2

    (46) Elizabethan Drama 1

    (47) Elizabethan Drama 2

    (48) Thoughts and Minor Works: Pascal

    (49) Epic and Saga (

    Federalist Papers

    50 Masterpieces You Have to Read Before You Die

     

    Started reading the first one of Volume 3

    Bolded indicates I have read it.

     

    Vol 1 starts with Volume One

    Alcott, Louisa May: Little Women
    Austen, Jane: Pride and Prejudice
    Austen, Jane: Emma
    Balzac, Honoré de: Father Goriot
    Barbusse, Henri: The Inferno
    Brontë, Anne: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
    Brontë, Charlotte: Jane Eyre
    Brontë, Emily: Wuthering Heights
    Burroughs, Edgar Rice: Tarzan of the Apes
    Butler, Samuel: The Way of All Flesh
    Carroll, Lewis: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
    Cather, Willa: My Ántonia
    Cervantes, Miguel de: Don Quixote
    Chopin, Kate: The Awakening
    Cleland, John: Fanny Hill
    Collins, Wilkie: The Moonstone
    Conrad, Joseph: Heart of Darkness
    Conrad, Joseph: Nostromo
    Cooper, James Fenimore: The Last of the Mohicans
    Crane, Stephen: The Red Badge of Courage
    Cummings, E. E.: The Enormous Room
    Defoe, Daniel: Robinson Crusoe
    Defoe, Daniel: Moll Flanders
    Dickens, Charles: Bleak House
    Dickens, Charles: Great Expectations
    Dostoyevsky, Fyodor: Crime and Punishment
    Dostoyevsky, Fyodor: The Idiot
    Doyle, Arthur Conan: The Hound of the Baskervilles
    Dreiser, Theodore: Sister Carrie
    Dumas, Alexandre: The Three Musketeers
    Dumas, Alexandre: The Count of Monte Cristo
    Eliot, George: Middlemarch
    Fielding, Henry: Tom Jones
    Flaubert, Gustave: Madame Bovary
    Flaubert, Gustave: Sentimental Education
    Ford, Ford Madox: The Good Soldier
    Forster, E. M.: A Room With a View
    Forster, E. M.: Howard End
    Gaskell, Elizabeth: North and South
    Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von: The Sorrows of Young Werther
    Gogol, Nikolai: Dead Souls
    Gorky, Maxim: The Mother
    Haggard, H. Rider: King Solomon’s Mines
    Hardy, Thomas: Tess of the D’Urbervilles
    Hawthorne, Nathaniel: The Scarlet Letter
    Homer: The Odyssey
    Hugo, Victor: The Hunchback of Notre Dame
    Hugo, Victor: Les Misérables
    Huxley, Aldous: Crome Yellow
    James, Henry: The Portrait of a Lady

    Volume 2

    – Little Women [Louisa May Alcott]
    – Sense and Sensibility [Jane Austen]
    – Peter Pan (Peter and Wendy) [J.M. Barrie]
    – Cabin Fever [ B. M. Bower]
    – The Secret Garden [Frances Hodgson Burnett]
    – A Little Princess [Frances Hodgson Burnett]
    – Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland [Lewis Carroll]
    – The King in Yellow [Robert William Chambers]
    – The Man Who Knew Too Much [Gilbert Keith Chesterton]
    – The Woman in White [Wilkie Collins]
    – The Most Dangerous Game [Richard Connell]
    – Robinson Crusoe [Daniel Defoe]
    – On the Origin of Species, 6th Edition [Charles Darwin]
    – The Iron Woman [Margaret Deland]
    – David Copperfield [Charles Dickens]
    – Oliver Twist [Charles Dickens]
    – A Tale of Two Cities [Charles Dickens]
    – The Double [Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky]
    The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes [Arthur Conan Doyle]
    – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button [Francis Scott Fitzgerald]
    – A Room with a View [E. M. Forster]
    – Dream Psychology [Sigmund Freud]
    – Tess of the d’Urbervilles [Thomas Hardy]
    – Siddhartha [Hermann Hesse]
    – Dubliners [James Joyce]
    – The Fall of the House of Usher [Edgar Allan Poe]
    – The Arabian Nights [Andrew Lang]
    – The Sea Wolf [Jack London]
    – The Call of Cthulhu [Howard Phillips Lovecraft]
    – Anne of Green Gables [Lucy Maud Montgomery]
    – Beyond Good and Evil [Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche]
    – The Murders in the Rue Morgue [Edgar Allan Poe]
    – The Black Cat [Edgar Allan Poe]
    – The Raven [Edgar Allan Poe]
    – Swann’s Way [Marcel Proust]
    – Romeo and Juliet [William Shakespeare]
    – Treasure Island [Robert Louis Stevenson]
    – The Elements of Style [William Strunk Jr.

     

    Vol 3  finished keeping for the historical record

    This book contains the following works arranged alphabetically by authors’ last names.

    Started with volume 3 then will go back and do volumes one, two, and the Harvard classics. The goal is to finish all of these by the end of next year.  I almost finished Volume One.  Will do some of the WC reading books as well.

    – What’s Bred in the Bone [Grant Allen]
    – The Golden Ass [Lucius Apuleius]
    – Meditations [Marcus Aurelius]
    – Northanger Abbey [Jane Austen]
    – Lady Susan [Jane Austen]
    – The Wonderful Wizard of Oz [Lyman Frank Baum]
    – The Art of Public Speaking [Dale Breckenridge Carnegie]
    – The Blazing World [Margaret Cavendish]
    – The Wisdom of Father Brown [Gilbert Keith Chesterton]
    – Heretics [Gilbert Keith Chesterton]
    – The Donnington Affair [Gilbert Keith Chesterton]
    – The Innocence of Father Brown [Gilbert Keith Chesterton]
    – Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure [John Cleland]
    – The Moonstone [Wilkie Collins]
    – Lord Jim [Joseph Conrad]
    – The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe [Daniel Defoe]
    – The Pickwick Papers [Charles Dickens]
    – A Christmas Carol [Charles Dickens]
    – Notes From The Underground [Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky]
    – The Gambler par Fyodor [Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky]
    – The Lost World [Arthur Conan Doyle]
    – The Hound of the Baskervilles [Arthur Conan Doyle]
    – The Sign of the Four [Arthur Conan Doyle]
    – The Man in the Iron Mask [Alexandre Dumas]
    – The Three Musketeers [Alexandre Dumas]
    – This Side of Paradise [Francis Scott Fitzgerald]
    – Curious, If True: Strange Tales [Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell]
    – King Solomon’s Mines [Henry Rider Haggard]
    – The Hunchback of Notre Dame [Victor Hugo]
    – Kim [Rudyard Kipling]
    – Captain Courageous [Rudyard Kipling]
    – The Jungle Book [Rudyard Kipling]
    – Lady Chatterley’s Lover [David Herbert Lawrence]
    – The Son of the Wolf [Jack London]
    – The Einstein Theory of Relativity [Hendrik Antoon Lorentz]
    – The Dunwich Horror [Howard Phillips Lovecraft]
    – At the Mountains of Madness [Howard Phillips Lovecraft]
    – The Prince [Niccolò Machiavelli]
    – The Story Girl [Lucy Maud Montgomery]
    – The Antichrist [Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche]
    – The Republic [Plato]
    – The Last Man [Mary Shelley]
    – Life On The Mississippi [Mark Twain]
    – The Kama Sutra [Vatsyayana]
    – In the Year 2889 [Jules Verne]
    – Around the World in Eighty Days [Jules Verne]
    – Four Just Men [Edgar Wallace]
    – Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ [Lewis Wallace]
    – Jacob’s Room [Virginia Woolf]

     

    Sci-Fi short stories

    Goal read one to four stories per week

    The Big Book of Science Fiction is a massive anthology of science fiction stories edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer. It covers the history and evolution of the genre from the early 20th century to the end of the millennium, featuring works from over 30 countries and many languages. The book contains 105 stories, ranging from classics by H.G. Wells, Arthur C. Clarke, and Ursula K. Le Guin, to lesser-known gems by W.E.B. Du Bois, David R. Bunch, and Liu Cixin. The book also includes comments from the editors and the authors, offering insights into their creative process and vision. The book is divided into 11 sections, each with a thematic focus and a chronological order. Here is the table of contents for the book1:

    Introduction: Ann and Jeff VanderMeer

    The Lens of Time: Science Fiction as a Way of Seeing

    H.G. Wells: “The Star” (1897)

    Lu Xun: “The New Overworld” (1902)

    Sultana’s Dream: Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain (1905)

    Albert Robida: “The Triumph of Mechanics” (1908)

    Miguel de Unamuno: “Mechanopolis” (1913)

    W.E.B. Du Bois: “The Comet” (1920)

    Claude Farrère: “The Fate of the Poseidonia” (1923)

    Edmond Hamilton: “The Star Stealers” (1929)

    David H. Keller: “The Lost Language” (1934)

    Stanislaw Lem: “Solaris” (1961) excerpt

    Jorge Luis Borges: “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius” (1940)

    Cixin Liu: “The Poetry Cloud” (1997)

    Invasions

    Edgar Rice Burroughs: “A Princess of Mars” (1912) excerpt

    Leslie F. Stone: “The Conquest of Gola” (1931)

    Stanley G. Weinbaum: “A Martian Odyssey” (1934)

    John W. Campbell Jr.: “Who Goes There?” (1938)

    Ray Bradbury: “Dark They Were, and Golden-Eyed” (1949)

    Katherine MacLean: “Pictures Don’t Lie” (1951)

    William Tenn: “The Liberation of Earth” (1953)

    J.G. Ballard: “The Voices of Time” (1960)

    Dino Buzzati: “Catastrophe” (1966)

    James Tiptree Jr.: “And I Awoke and Found Me Here on the Cold Hill’s Side” (1972)

    Joanna Russ: “When It Changed” (1972)

    Arkady & Boris Strugatsky: “The Spontaneous Reflex” (1973) excerpt

    Octavia Butler: “Bloodchild” (1984)

    James Patrick Kelly: “Think Like a Dinosaur” (1995)

    Monsters

    H.P. Lovecraft: “The Dunwich Horror” (1929)

    Ray Bradbury: “The Foghorn” (1951)

    Jerome Bixby: “It’s a Good Life” (1953)

    Julio Cortázar: “Axolotl” (1956)

    J.G. Ballard: “The Drowned Giant” (1964)

    R.A. Lafferty: “Nine Hundred Grandmothers” (1966)

    Terry Carr: “The Dance of the Changer and the Three” (1968)

    Harlan Ellison®: “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream” (1967)

    Lisa Tuttle & George R.R. Martin: “The Storms of Windhaven” (1975)

    John Varley: “Air Raid” (1977)

    William Gibson: “New Rose Hotel” (1984)

    Ted Chiang: “Story of Your Life” (1998)

    Experiments

    Alfred Jarry: “Elements of Pataphysics” (1911)

    Karel Čapek: “R.U.R.” (1920) excerpt

    Stanisław Lem: “How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface” (1955)

    William S. Burroughs: “Excerpt from Naked Lunch” (1959)

    J.G. Ballard: “Chronopolis” (1960)

    Philip K. Dick: “Beyond Lies the Wub” (1952)

    Boris Vian: “Froth on the Daydream” (1947) excerpt

    Joanna Russ: “Useful Phrases for the Tourist” (1970)

    George Alec Effinger: “Two Sadnesses” (1973)

    John Sladek: “Solar Shoe Salesman” (1974)

    Dafydd ab Hugh: “The Coon Rolled Down and Ruptured His Larinks, A Squeezed Novel by Mr. Skunk” (1986)

    Generation Ships

    Don Wilcox: “The Voyage That Lasted 600 Years” (1940)

    Judith Merril: “Daughters of Earth” (1952)

    Brian W. Aldiss: “Non-Stop” (1958) excerpt

    Robert Silverberg: “Sundance” (1969)

    Pamela Zoline: “The Heat Death of the Universe” (1967)

    Gene Wolfe: “A Cabin on the Coast” (1984)

    Bruce Sterling: “Swarm” (1982)

    Geoff Ryman: “The Unconquered Country” (1984)

    New Worlds

    Cordwainer Smith: “Alpha Ralpha Boulevard” (1961)

    Samuel R. Delany: “Aye, and Gomorrah …” (1967)

    Ursula K. Le Guin: “Vaster Than Empires and Slower” (1971)

    James Tiptree Jr.: “Houston, Houston, Do You Read?” (1976)

    Frederik Pohl: “The Gold at the Starbow’s End” (1972)

    Angélica Gorodischer: “Of Navigators and Traitors” (1973) excerpt

    John Crowley: “Snow” (1985)

    Iain M. Banks: “A Gift from the Culture” (1987)

    Greg Egan: “Learning to Be Me” (1990)

    Future War

    Jack London: “The Unparalleled Invasion” (1910)

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton: “The Coming Race” (1871) excerpt

    George Griffith: “The War of the Viruses” (1895)

    Philip Francis Nowlan: “Armageddon 2419 A.D.” (1928)

    E.E. “Doc” Smith: “The Skylark of Space” (1928) excerpt

    Olaf Stapledon: “Star Maker” (1937) excerpt

    Robert A. Heinlein: “Solution Unsatisfactory” (1941)

    C.M. Kornbluth: “Two Dooms” (1958)

    Joe Haldeman: “Hero” (1972)

    Harry Harrison: “The Streets of Ashkelon” (1962)

    David R. Bunch: “Moderan” (1967)

    Harlan Ellison®: “A Boy and His Dog” (1969)

    James S.A. Corey: “Rates of Change” (2011)

    Virtual Reality

    Stanisław Lem: “The Seventh Sally or How Trurl’s Own Perfection Led to No Good” (1965)

    Philip K. Dick: “We Can Remember It for You Wholesale” (1966)

    John Brunner: “The Vitanuls” (1967)

    Roger Zelazny: “For a Breath I Tarry” (1966)

    Robert Silverberg: “Passengers” (1968)

    Rudy Rucker: “Software” (1982) excerpt

    William Gibson: “Burning Chrome” (1982)

    Pat Cadigan: “Pretty Boy Crossover” (1986)

    Neal Stephenson: “Snow Crash” (1992) excerpt

    Humanity 2.0

    Olaf Stapledon: “Odd John” (1935) excerpt

    C.L. Moore: “No Woman Born” (1944)

    Cordwainer Smith: “Scanners Live in Vain” (1950)

    Algis Budrys: “Who?” (1955)

    James Blish: “Surface Tension” (1952)

    Gregory Benford: “Blood Music” (1983)

    Bruce Sterling: “Mozart in Mirrorshades” (1985)

    Vernor Vinge: “True Names” (1981)

    Ted Chiang: “Understand” (1991)

    Alien Minds

    Arthur C. Clarke: “The Sentinel” (1951)

    Isaac Asimov: “The Last Question” (1956)

    Clifford D. Simak: “Desertion” (1944)

    James H. Schmitz: “Grandpa” (1955)

    Frank Herbert: “Try to Remember!” (1961)

    Philip José Farmer: “Sail On! Sail On!” (1952)

    Stanisław Lem: “Solaris” (1961) excerpt

    Arkady & Boris Strugatsky: “Roadside Picnic” (1972) excerpt

    Karen Joy Fowler & Pat Murphy: “Rachel in Love” (1987)

    Ian McDonald: “The Tear” (2008)

    After the End

    Walter M. Miller Jr.: “The Darfsteller” (1955) J.G. Ballard: “The Terminal Beach” (1964) John Wyndham: ”

     

    Substack

    https://open.substack.com/pub/jakecosmosaller/p/books-read-2024?r=3i9lm&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

    Medium

    View at Medium.com

    Wattpad

  • Spillwords Publishes Charles Bukowski’s Road Not Chosen

    Spillwords Publishes Charles Bukowski’s Road Not Chosen

    Spillwords Publishes Charles Bukowski’s Road Not Chosen

    charles bukowski
    charles bukowski

    Spillwords Published One Night In Bombay

    More Spillwords poems published

    Spillwords Publishes Gun Madness

    SpillWords Interview

     Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    While reading Charles Bukowski’s poetry
    On the metro ride home
    Listening to Buddha bar music
    On my oh too hip IPod.

    I begin to see myself as I was
    Over 30 years ago when I was merely a bit player
    A minor character in a Charles Bukowski poem.

    A wild young underemployed intellectual
    Hanging out in dismal bars and dives all over Asia and California
    Hanging with disreputable women and drunks and drinkers
    And characters out of his kinds of haunts.

    A mad poet bard of the underground
    A drunken poet in a drunken bum show
    That nightly played in his head.

    Then one day I met the woman of my dreams
    And went down a different path
    A long, slow path to respectability.

    And now 30 years later
    I am no longer a wild man
    I am still a poet at heart
    But I am now also a bureaucrat
    In a button-down suite.

    Doing the people’s business
    Working for the Government
    I’ve become the Man.

    Sometimes I wonder
    Would I have been better off
    Going down that other path?

    Would I have ended up
    Somewhere else
    Doing something else.

    Would I have been as happy?
    Would I have been as successful?

    No answer satisfies
    The longing in my heart
    For that wild thing
    That still lurks beneath
    It’s a civilized cover.

    And I know that I am still
    A mad poet at heart
    Railing against the injustice of the world.

    As I work day by day in the belly

    of the great beast of State
    I recall the ancient Chinese saying,
    “Confucian during the day while Taoist rebel at night”
    Playing out in my head and nightly dreams
    In the true American Upper-class patrician tradition.

    I close the book and look out the window
    Get off the train, and walk slowly home.

    And realize I had no choice
    But to take the path that I’ve trodden on/

    And so I put aside my misgivings
    And say goodbye to my “Bukowskian” desires
    For another night of domestic contentment.

    Was it worth it all to take the conventional path?
    And not take the Bohemian road to hell and back?

    I look at my wife and realize
    I had no choice, had no choice
    But to follow her to the ends of the earth.

    And beyond by her side as we walked our path
    Of shared destiny.

    Goodbye, Charles Bukowski, wherever you are
    May I meet you in a bar in the next life?
    And figure out where we should have gone.

    Until then, the drinks are on me.

    Spillwords has published a number of my works over the years. See the following:

    JAKE COSMOS ALLER

    Chaos, poetry written by Jake Cosmos Aller at Spillwords.com
    Morning Light, poetry written by Jake Cosmos Aller at Spillwords.com

     

  • April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 26 to April 30, 2024 Poems

    This is the fifth and final batch of my April Poetry Madness challenge poems, (for April 21 to April 25), following daily prompts supplied by Poetry Superhighway, Writer’s Digest, Writing Com Dew Drop Inn, and NaPoWriMo. I am not posting any more PSH poems, as I need to keep some unpublished for future submissions.

    I have included the poem, the prompt, and occasionally a bonus poem or comment or two. I am also cross-posting this on  All Poetry, Blog Lovin, Cosmos Funnel,  Facebook, Fan Story, Instagram, LinkedIn, Medium, Substack, Wattpad, Writer’s Digest, Writing Com, and Twitter. This is probably my last time doing this. Just getting too old to keep up.

    You can find my previous entries here:

    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14

    PSH April 2023 Poems

    April 2023 Poems

    Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

    Comments are welcomed but keep it civil.

    Part One

    April 1

    PSH Ode to Durian

    WD  Optimistic Letourneau

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    Easter Bunny -warm up March 31

    Sarang pabo love fool

    NaPoWrMo Springtime Flowers Blooming Love

    April 2

    PSH The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

    WD Sad and happy days

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo  Cage

    NaPoWrMo It Can’t Happen Here

     

    April 3

    Berkeley Mad Pyscotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

    PSH 2 AI Version Traditional Sonnet

    WD  My Musical Street

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo  Ode to Coffee

     

    April 4, 2024

    PSH The Cosmic Dog from Goa

    WD Don’t Make a Mistake Vote for Jake

    WC Ending Daily Shaving in Retirement

    NaPoWrMo The Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    AV version The Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

     

    April 5, 2024

    PSH Love Expressed Through Food

    WD Tell Me No Lies

    WC Make Baseball Great Again!

    NaPoWrMo Resurrecting the Dodo Bird

    April 6

     PSH  Cosmic Dog From Goa

    WD  Meeting My Fate Minimum Poem

    WC Daily Ritual Drinks

    NaPoWrMo Only In SF

     

    Part Two

     April 7

     

    PSH  Visiting My Father’s Grave

    Bonus: Yakima Dessert Blues

    WD Meeting My Fate Minimum Poem

    WC  Why Trump?

    NaPoWrMo  Planetary Nut Re-Configuration Program

     

    April  8

     

    PSH Area Codes

    WD  My Lucky Number

    WC Economic Perception Delay

    NaPoWrMo  Wish You Were Here

     

    April  9

    PSH  Dearly Beloved

    WD the Major Event of My Life

    WC Death to All Humans

    NaPoWrMo My Dysfunctional Family

     

    April 10

     

    PSH You Can’t Write That!

    WD Better Political Discourse Needed

    WC Green Trees Don’t Make It

    AI Bing Version

    NaPoWrMo  Ode to My Coffee Pot

     

    April 11

     PSH Quote Poem About 9-11

    WD Crazy Love Nonet

    WC April 11—Eclipse/d two Lunatic Lune Poems about the Eclipse

    NaPoWrMo   Tribute to John Dean

     

    April 12

    PSH  Subway Journey

    WD Old Man Lost In His Old Memories

    WC  Civil War 2.0

    NaPoWrMo  11 One Liners

     

    April 13

    PSH First Time to Eat Kimchi

    WD Five Trumpian Humor Poetic Fragments

    WC April 13—Discovery Shooting Down the Alien Visitors

    NaPoWrMo  Saga of Big Daddy

     

    April 14

    PSH  99 Haiku TBC

    WD life worth Living

    WC  Tech Peeves

    NaPoWrMo  Shy Man Fishing

     

    Part Three  

     

    Not posting PSH saving them as “unpublished)

     

    Writer Digest Poems  

    April 15  New Middle Poem  Middle Of Political Silly Season In The U.S.  Trigger Warning Mild Political Rant

    April 16 Trump Shardona Poem

    April 17 New Tuesday prompt write a Shadorma poem about recent tech layoffs CEO To Labor Units of Production Shardona – You are Not Wanted

    April 18  WD pessimistic Poem -not the Way to Fire People New Rules in the New Corporation World

    April 19 Emotion Poem -fears of falling

    April 20 The circus bear escapes

    Bear in collar  hears praise while rambling

    alt. bonus poem Met And Married My Dream Lady

     Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Prompts

     WC April 15 Lament  Drifting Towards Civil War 2.0

    WC Prove Something – God’s Demented Sense of Humor

    WC Question something -The basic  decency and sanity of Americans

    WC Scumbagology

    WC Comedy – The Donald Trump Show is Getting Old

     

    NaPoWriMo Prompts

    April 15

    My stamp collection

    April 16

    Late Night Earthquake Blues

    April 17

    What is Hip?

    April 18 It’s A Dog’s Life for Me

    April 19

    Hunting the Monsters in Hell

    Day 20  Trail of Tears – My Family Connection

    Part four

    Writer’s Digest Prompts

    April 21 Romantic Trope -Fairy Tale Romance

    April 22 Gaii’s Calls for Revenge Against Humanity Earth Day Nightmare

    April 23 Donald Trump’s Trials the Heart of the Matter

    April 24 Maximum Cruelty in the Name of Jesus in the Point

    April 25 Insight into Trump Incite  Homonym Poem

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Prompts

     April 21—Salient  Image (poem based on one concrete thing you remember at day’s end) Seeing My Wife

    April 22— Serio-comic dilemma -Election Choices Trigger Warning -Anti-Trump Rant!

    April 23—Let Shakespeare be your inspiration – Fairy Tale Romance
    April 24—Unexplored Desire  Rule of Ten
    April 25 TV Show Rocky and Bullwinkle background info

    NaPoWriMo Poems

    April 21 News Gives Me the Blues

    April 22 Coffee and Tea endless argument – which is better?

    April 23 Batman Feeling the Blues Kojiki Poem

    April 24 the Dream of the Sphinx

    April 25 Proust Questionnaire

     Part Five

    Writers Digest Prompts

    Day 26 Life as a Coffee Pot

    April 27 Old Man Lost In His Memories -Cornish Sonnet re-mix

    April 27  Old Man Lost in his memories

    April 28 I saw my Father Die Double Cinquain

    April 29 Until the end of time

    April 30 Beginning Of My Life Dream Cherita

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Prompts

    April 26—Noise  Now My Home Korea

    April 27—Beauty Korean Land of K Beauties

    April 28  Secrets Diplomatic Secrets to Take to My Grave

    April 29—The sense of an ending End of Trump Reality TV Show?

    NaPoWriMo Prompts

    Day 26 “Nattering Nabobs of Negativity April Poetry

    Day 27 Insomnia Blues An American Sonnet

    April 28 Meeting Dream Girl Sijo

    April 29 Saga of Big Daddy

    April 30 The Grim Reaper Gathers His Posse

    Begin Poems

    Writer’s Digest

    Day 26 Life as a Coffee Pot

    coffee
    coffee

     

     

     

     

     

    If I were to come back

    As an inanimate object,

    I would come back

    As a coffee pot.

     

    Giving pleasure

    Every morning

    To my master and friends.

     

    As they enjoy the fresh coffee,

    That is my Buddha nature

    To make for them.

     

    For today’s prompt, write a persona poem. A persona poem is just a poem narrated in the voice of a persona who is not yourself. Like I could write a persona poem in the voice of Batman or SpongeBob SquarePants or an abandoned payphone beside an abandoned gas station (which I just might do) or a stray cat. Pick someone or something, take on its persona, and write

     

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 28

    Remix title: Old Man Lost In His Old Memories

     converted to Cornish Sonnet form

    Sam Adams thought about that date.

    On a fine date in September.

    For that was the day he met his fate.

    Sparks flew from heart to heart.

    A date he would always remember.

    She soon became his sweetheart.

     

    When he saw on the bus he knew

    That she would be his forever.

    And that he would never feel blue.

    As long as she was by his side.

    He vowed they would be happy forever

    As long as she was by his bedside.

     

    Sam Adams thought about that date.

    On a fine date in September.

    The Cornish Sonnet is said by an internet source to be influenced by Arab traders to the Cornish coast . This verse form appears to be a merging of Arabic meter and the sonnet. Exactly when and how this came about I have yet to pin down. Early Cornish verse is fragmented and stingy at best. The earliest literature in the Cornish language were fragments of religious plays. The language became all but extinct by the 18th century but what was preserved demonstrates some verse in octaves using 7 syllable loose trochaic lines and alternating rhyme. Unlike verse from other Celtic origins, deliberate use of alliteration or other devices of “harmony of sound” are not present. This sonnet form doesn’t fit with these early findings so I can only assume that it arrived on the scene much later than originally presumed.

    The elements of the Cornish Sonnet are:

    1. lyrical meditation.
    2. quatorzain, 2 sestetsmade up of linked enclosed tercets, followed by a refrain which is the repeat of the first line of each sestet.
    3. metered at the discretion of the poet, lines should be of similar length.
    4. rhymed Ababcc Defdef AD The first line of each sestet are repeated in refrain in the last couplet.
    5. The sonnet can be written with an alternate rhyme scheme aaabcbc defdef CF In this scenario the last line of each sestet is repeated in refrain in the last couplet.

    I opted to not use traditional meter as I generally don’t handle that well for some reason

     

    original poem about old man lost in his memories – spelling out his memories of meeting his wife

    Memories

    Of past events

    Yesterdays

    Overwhelming

    An old man

    Lost in his past

    Can’t sleep at 0 dark hundred.

     

    Note:  “ O dark hundred” is military/intel jargon referring to the time  two to three hours  before dawn when operatives get up to get ready for dawn operations.  Depending on the location and time of year it is between 2 a.m. to 5 a.m.

     

    for me is 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. when I get the insomnia blues.

    Syllable Pattern:  3/4/3/4/3/4/7                                                                                                

    https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/whitney/

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a remix poem.

    For today’s prompt, write a remix poem. Just remix one of your poems. It could be from earlier in this month or even from before this challenge. But take one of your already existing poems and remix it. If it’s a sonnet, make it free verse. If it’s free verse, try turning it into a triolet or villanelle. Have fun with it.

    April 28 Dead Poem I saw my Father Die Double Cinquain

    Curtis Cosmos Aller, Jr
    Curtis Cosmos Aller, Jr

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Visiting My Father’s Grave

    My father died.

    when i saw my dad lying there.

    I sensed his soul departing from his dead body.

    It was as if a light had gone out, his soul escaped from his life.

    I knew death then.

    Prompt:
    We are going to start Poetry Week with the Double Cinquain.

    Information can be found here: “Cinquain, Double

    One stanza – just five lines.

    Topic is yours to choose.

     

    On an Internet search for new poetry forms, I found the Double Cinquain. The structure is quite the same, compared with the Cinquain, only the syllables have doubled.

    How did the Cinquain go?

    xx
    xxxx
    xxxxxx
    xxxxxxxx
    xx

    The Double Cinquain have twice as many syllables, but still five lines.
    So in a scheme it looks:

    xxxx
    xxxxxxxx
    xxxx xxxxxxxx
    xxxxxxxx
    xxxx

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a dead poem.

    For today’s prompt, write a dead poem. Back on day 13, we wrote living poems. Now, we’re going to inspect the other side of that coin. A dead poem could take place at a funeral or involve a wilting flower that’s already been picked. Or it could involve the undead (like zombies and vampires). Or maybe a dead language, a dead culture, or as some people like to say, they’re just “dead inside.”

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 29 Until the End of Time  Tripple Cherita Poem

    lovers kissing
    lovers kissing

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I will love you from now

     

    Until The end of time.

    and beyond death

     

    When we met, we both knew

    we were Soul mates

    Who were fated to meet.

     

    Our love was stronger

     

    Then time and space

    And we found each other

     

    As we looked at each other

    Sparks flew between heart-to-heart

    As we stared at each other

     

    With love blazing from your eyes.

     

    You hypnotized me

    Mesmerized me

     

    You put a spell on me

    You love Mojo working overtime.

    And I knew that I was yours.

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a Until Blank poem.

    Tomorrow is the final day of this challenge but remember: This challenge ain’t over until it’s over, so…

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Until (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Until the End of Time,” “Until the Cows Come Home,” “Until I Finish This Poem,” and/or “Until You Get Your Chores Done.”

     

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 30 Beginning Of My Life Dream Cherita

     

    My life

     

    Began one day

    In September.

     

    When my dream lady

    Walked off a bus

    Into my life.

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, we have our fifth (and final) Two-for-Tuesday prompt.

    Today is our fifth (and final) Two-for-Tuesday prompt, and also the final prompt of the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. But it’s not the final prompt(s) of the year, because we’ll get back to Wednesday Poetry Prompts every week beginning tomorrow, and I am planning to lead the 17th annual November Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge in November (look for the guidelines in October).

    For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

    1. Write at The End poem, and/or…
    2. Write a Beginning poem.

     

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Prompts

    April 26—Noise  Now My Home Korea

     

    map of three kingdoms

    When I first came

    To South Korea in 1979

    To do my Peace Corps duty

    In a rural country town,

     

     

    I thought that the old name

    Of Korea

    “the land of the morning calm”

    Was absurd.

     

    Korea was a noisy place

    From early morning on.

     

    Cars, horns, radio TV blaring

    People talking to crowds everywhere

    At night people drink and dine.

     

    And loudspeakers

    Blasting you awake

    At 6 a.m.

     

    And during elections

    Sound trucks everywhere.

     

    Now 45 years later

    It is my home

     

    No longer noisy

    Chaotic exotic place

    Just home.

     

    April 27—Beauty Korean Land of K Beauties

    lovers in the rain
    lovers in the rain

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I live in Korea

    The land of plastic surgery

    K beauty products.

     

    Korean women are

    Among the most beautiful

    Woman in the world.

     

    The cult of the beautiful

    Everywhere you go

    You see beautiful women

    And men on the street,

     

    And I realized I married

    The most beautiful woman

    In the world,

     

    When I met and married

    My Dream lady.

    April 28  Secrets Diplomatic Secrets to Take to My Grave

     

    I worked for 27 years

    as a US diplomat

    and witnessed a lot of things

    that were and are considered

    secrets.

     

    – and we are trained

    to keep these secrets

    secret.

     

    and I will no doubt die

    and take some secrets

    to my grave.

    April 29—The sense of an ending End of Trump Reality TV Show?

     

     

     

    While watching the Trump trials

    I sense an ending

    To the Trump Reality TV show.

     

    As he is revealed to be

    What he is

    Nothing but a charlatan

    A con man, a grifter.

     

    And he is not the King

    Not a dictator, and not a genius,

     

    He seems to be just a tired old man

    Finally, being held accountable.

     

    For decades of alleged misconduct

    Fraudulent business and political

    Crimes include inciting a riot.

     

    Stealing national secrets

    And so many over.

     

    Yet the polls show

    He could become our next President

     

    Perhaps I am seeing the end

    Of democracy playing out

    On my TV screen?

     

    Dear God, I pray

    Make it all go way

    Retire Trump from the game

    April 30 Poem About Poetry Why Do I Write?

    Why Do I write

    These poems every day?

     

    Why do I spend so much time

    Writing down these verses

    That few will ever see?

    Why do I bother?

     

    The only answer is because

    I must write daily

    My inner muse compels me

    And I have to write down

    These mad thoughts.

     

    And share them

    With the world

    Even if no one reads them

    Other than my wife

    And some of my friends.

     

    I have no choice

    That is what I am.

     

    I am just a writer,

    And a mad poet

    At heart.

     

    NaPoWriMo Prompts

    Day 26 “Nattering Nabobs of Negativity April Poetry

     

    (Original Caption) 8/22/1972-Miami Beach, Florida: President Richard Nixon will be inaugurated for a second term on Jan. 20, 1973. Nixon and Vice President Spiro T. Agnew wave and smile to the audience of the 1972 Republican National Convention after they acknowledged their re-nomination.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Before there was Donald Trump’s tirade

    Against the false fraudulent fake news

    Enemies of the people

     

    For being a “lying liberal leftwing lunatic “

    Peddling “fake fraudulent falsehoods”

    Fake false news.

     

    There was Nixon and Agnew’s crusade

    Against their enemies

    In the so-called Liberal media

     

    VP Agnew who resigned

    To avoid going to prison

    Before Nixon’s downfall

    Was famous for his quotes

     

    One of his best quotes

    Was this little gem

    Filled with alliteration

     

    He called out the press

    For being

    “Nattering Nabobs of Negativity.”

    Happy final Friday of Na/GloPoWriMo, everyone!

    Our featured participant for the day is Words With Ruth, where we get a dating profile in response to Day 25’s Proust Questionnaire prompt.

    Our daily resource is the video archive of the Silo City Reading Series, hosted by the Just Buffalo Literary Center in Buffalo, New York.

    And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that involves alliterationconsonance, and assonanceAlliteration is the repetition of a particular consonant sound at the beginning of multiple words. Consonance is the repetition of consonant sounds elsewhere in multiple words, and assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds. Traci Brimhall’s poem “A Group of Moths” provides a great example of these poetic devices at work, with each line playing with different sounds that seem to move the poem along on a sonorous wave.

     

    Your poem doesn’t have to be as complex as all that, though. Just pick a consonant or two and a vowel and dive right into the wonderful world (hey, there’s some alliteration/consonance/assonance right there) of sound.

    •  Presidency:
      • In 1968, Richard Nixon asked Agnew to place his name in nomination for the vice presidency, and he became Nixon’s running mate.
      • Agnew gained national recognition for his colorful speeches denouncing Vietnam War protesters and other opponents of the Nixon administration.
      • He was despised by many Democrats but pleased Republicans with his rhetoric.
    • Resignation:
      • Agnew’s downfall began in 1973 when he was investigated for extortion, bribery, and income-tax violations related to his tenure as governor of Maryland.
      • Faced with federal indictments, he resigned on October 10, 1973, becoming the second person to resign the vice presidency (after John C. Calhoun in 1832) and the first to do so under duress.
    • Death: Spiro Agnew passed away on September 17, 1996, in Berlin, Maryland.

    Agnew’s legacy is marked by both his political achievements and the scandal that led to his resignation. His colorful language and controversial stance left a lasting impact on American politics. 12

    Feel free to explore more about his life and career through the provided links:

     

    Day 27 Insomnia Blues An American Sonnet

     

    At o dark hundred hours

    I am  often still wide awake

    As I go down rabbit holes

    Imagining dark imaginings

    Playing endless what-if games

    What if I have cancer

    What if I have Alzheimers

    What if I the big earthquake quakes

    What if the big volcano blows up

    What if I die in a fiery plane crash

    What if I am shot and killed

    What if Trump launches Fascism

    And arrests me for my blogging?

    The dawning sun blasts me out of my bed.

    A very happy twenty-seventh day of Na/GloPoWriMo to you all.

    Today, our featured daily participant is Peregrine Buffington, where you’ll not only find a lot of alliteration, consonance, and assonance in response to Day 26’s prompt, but you’ll find it in abecedarian form.

    Our featured resource for the day is Poetry Pause, the “daily dispatch” of the League of Canadian Poets.

    And now for our prompt – optional, as always!  Today we’d like to challenge you to write an “American sonnet.” What’s that? Well, it’s like a regular sonnet but . . . fewer rules? Like a traditional Spencerian or Shakespearean sonnet, an American sonnet is shortish (generally 14 lines, but not necessarily!), discursive, and tends to end with a bang, but there’s no need to have a rhyme scheme or even a specific meter.

    April 28, 2024 Meeting Dream Girl Sijo

    On that date,

    In September, I met my fate.

    When she came to life.

    We met first in my nightly dreams

    I knew I had  met

    My soul mate.

     

    based on my true love story.

     

    Finally, our optional prompt for the day asks you to try your hand at writing a sijo. This is a traditional Korean verse form. A sijo has three lines of 14-16 syllables. The first line introduces the poem’s theme, the second discusses it, and the third line, which is divided into two sentences or clauses, ends the poem – usually with some kind of twist or surprise.

     

    You could also write a sijo in six lines – at least when it comes to translating classical sijo into English, translators seem to have developed this habit, as you can see from these translations of poems by Jong Moong-Ju and U Tak.

     

    April 29  Clandestine – Saga of Big Daddy

     

     

     

     

     

     

    photo created by Bing Co-Pilot

     

    Big Daddy lived in the shadow worlds

    in the clandestine underground.

     

    He was an ex-University of Arkansas

    And Dallas Cowboy player.

     

    Who had worked for the CIA

    After the agency fired him

    For murdering enemies

    Of the state at home.

     

    In contravention of agency rules,

    But they retained his services

    From time to time.

     

    He became a legendary figure
    He was a cipher, a ghost,
    a Machiavellian intel operative

    A spy, a spook, a secret agent man,

    living in the clandestine shadows..

    No one knew his real name
    Called him Big Daddy.
    Or his latest covert name.
    And he had hundreds
    Of cover legends.

    He officially did not exist,
    As his agency had officially
    Terminated him years ago.

    He now worked for an agency
    That did not exist.
    The same agency
    That had terminated his legal existence
    For matters of national security.

    He lived in the

    clandestine Shadowlands
    Of the third world.

    In nameless hellhole slums
    And clandestine,  dark,

    secret dungeons.

    Where he would do what needed
    To be done
    Killing those that needed killing
    At the instructions
    Of his unseen masters.

    He was just a rumor
    Living in the shadow worlds
    working for a clandestine

    unnamed agency

    that did not exist.

    An intel operative
    The best of the best at what he did
    Which was creative interrogation.

    His favorite choice
    Was the creative use of
    An electric shock,
    Imaginary or not

    But sometimes
    It had an outcome
    An unimaginable outcome.

    His worst nightmare
    The victim is released

    And sues him
    And the agencies
    That he worked for.

    But so far
    It has not happened
    As no one knew
    His real name

    And the government
    Did not know too.

    So justice
    was never served
    On Big Daddy.

    April 30

    And now for our optional prompt. If you’ve been paying attention to pop-music news over the past couple of weeks, you may know that Taylor Swift has released a new double album titled “The Tortured Poets Department.” In recognition of this occasion, Merriam-Webster put together a list of ten words from Taylor Swift songs. We hope you don’t find this too torturous yourself, but we’d like to challenge you to select one these words and write a poem that uses the word as its title.

     Clandestine

    Song Title/Album: “illicit affairs” / folklore

    Lyric: “And that’s the thing about illicit affairs / And clandestine meetings and longing stares”

    Definition: done in a private place or way done secretly

    About the Word: Clandestine is an adjective that is often used as a substitute for secret and covert, and it is commonly applied to actions that involve secrecy maintained for an evil, illicit (as in “illicit affairs”), or unauthorized purpose. It comes to English by way of Middle French, from Latin clandestine, which is itself from Latin clam, meaning “secretly.” Although people involved in clandestine activities tend to clam up when asked about them, the bivalve clam has no relation to the Latin clam, but comes instead from the Old English word clam, meaning “bond” or “fetter.”

    Machiavellian

    Song Title/Album: “Mastermind” / Midnights

    Lyric: “I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian ‘because I care”

    Definition: using clever lies and tricks in order to get or achieve something : clever and dishonest

    About the Word: While inspiring an adjective (such as Swiftian) may seem like a fine way to achieve linguistic immortality, it must be said that many words taken from people’s names are not as complimentary. Machiavellian—which describes things marked by cunning, duplicity, or bad faith—comes from the Italian political philosopher Niccolò Machiavelli (1469-1527), the author of the most famous treatise on bare-knuckled politics ever published, The Prince, which brought him a reputation as an immoral cynic and even a teacher of evil.

    April 30 The Grim Reaper Gathers His Posse

    cheating death
    cheating death

     

     

     

     

     

    It was Halloween night
    A night that all the denizens
    Of hell loved.

    For on that night
    All of hell would break out.

    They would celebrate their annual escape
    On Halloween, they are allowed
    To go to the surface sunlit lands.

    For a night of drinking,
    Drugging and wilding
    As bad craziness descends
    Upon the land.

    The Grim Reaper and his posse
    Dressed up as cosmic court jesters
    Dressed as fools.

    They descended upon the world
    And a night of chaos fell upon the land.
    Thousands died, as the Grim Reaper
    Added to his quota.

    Bonus kills were bonus points.
    He returned to hell with his minions,

    And the souls of the dead
    Who soon became mere ghosts.
    Their voices crying in the wind
    Echoing through time.

     

    And now for our last prompt of the year – optional, as always! Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem in which the speaker is identified with, or compared to, a character from myth or legend, as in  Claire Scott’s poem “Scheherazade at the Doctor’s Office.”

    The End

     

  • April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 7 to April 14

    This is the second batch of my April Poetry Madness challenge poems, (for April 7 to April 14), following daily prompts supplied by Poetry Superhighway, Writer’s Digest, Writing Com Dew Drop Inn, and NaPoWriMo.   I have included the poem, the prompt, and occasionally a bonus poem or comment or two. I am also cross-posting this on  All Poetry, Blog lovin, Cosmos Funnel,  FaceBook, Fan Story, Instagram, Linkedin, Medium, Subtack, Wattpad, Writer’s Digest, Writing Com, and Twitter. This is probably my last time doing this.  Just getting too old to keep up.

    You can find my previous entries here:

    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    PSH April 2023 Poems

    April 2023 Poems

    Writers Digest April 2023 Poems

    https://wp.me/p7NAzO-2Qh  (this posting)

    Comments are welcomed, but keep it civil.

    Part One

    April 1

    PSH Ode to Durian

    WD  Optimistic Letourneau

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    Easter Bunny -warm up March 31

    Sarang pabo love fool

    NaPoWrMo Springtime Flowers Blooming Love

    April 2

    PSH The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

    WD Sad and happy days

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo  Cage

    NaPoWrMo It Can’t Happen Here

    April 3

    Berkeley Mad Pyscotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

    PSH 2 AI Version Traditional Sonnet

    WD  My Musical Street

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo  Ode to Coffee

    April 4, 2024

    PSH The Cosmic Dog from Goa

    WD Don’t Make a Mistake Vote for Jake

    WC Ending Daily Shaving in Retirement

    NaPoWrMo The Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    AV version The Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    April 5, 2024

    PSH Love Expressed Through Food

    WD Tell Me No Lies

    WC Make Baseball Great Again!

    NaPoWrMo Resurrecting the Dodo Bird

    April 6

    PSH  Cosmic Dog From Goa

    WD  Meeting My Fate Minimum Poem

    WC Daily Ritual Drinks

    NaPoWrMo Only In SF

    Part Two

    April 7

    PSH  Visiting My Father’s Grave

    Bonus: Yakima Dessert Blues

    WD Meeting My Fate Minimum Poem

    WC  Why Trump?

    NaPoWrMo  Planetary Nut Re-Configuration Program

    April  8

    PSH Area Codes

    WD  My Lucky Number

    WC Economic Perception Delay

    NaPoWrMo  Wish You Were Here

    April  9

    PSH  Dearly Beloved

    WD the Major Event of My Life

    WC Death to All Humans

    NaPoWrMo My Dysfunctional Family

    April 10

    PSH You Can’t Write That!

    WD Better Political Discourse Needed

    WC Green Trees Don’t Make It

    AI Bing Version

    NaPoWrMo  Ode to My Coffee Pot

    April 11

    PSH Quote Poem About 9-11

    WD Crazy Love Nonet

    WC April 11—Eclipse/d two Lunatic Lune Poems about the Eclipse

    NaPoWrMo   Tribute to John Dean

    April12

    PSH  Subway Journey

    WD Old Man Lost In His Old Memories

    WC  Civil War 2.0

    NaPoWrMo  11 One Liners

    April 13

    PSH First Time to Eat Kimchi

    WD Five Trumpian Humor Poetic Fragments

    WC April 13—Discovery Shooting Down the Alien Visitors

    NaPoWrMo  Saga of Big Daddy

    April 14

    PSH  99 Haiku TBC

    WD life worth Living

    WC  Tech Peeves

    NaPoWrMo  Shy Man Fishing

    Part Three

    April 15

    PSH

    WD

    WC April 15 Lament  Drifting Towards Civil War 2.0

    Japan April 16 to 19  write prompts write poems April 20-21 or pre-write April 14 or 15

    April 16

    PSH

    WD

    WC No Rain

    NaPoWrMo

    April17

    PSH

    WD

    WC Prove Something – God’s Demented Sense of Humor

    NaPoWrMo

    April 18

    PSH

    WD

    WC Question something -The basic  deceny and sanity of Americans

    NaPoWrMo

    April 19

    PSH

    WD

    WC Scumbagology

    NaPoWrMo

    April 20

    PSH

    WD

    WC Comedy – The Donald Trump Show is Getting Old

    NaPoWrMo

    Part Four  TBC

    Part Five TBC

    Begin Poems 

     

    PSH Area Code Haiku

     

    Area  Code Haikus

     

    415 SF Bay Area code

    510 East Bay Area code

    503  Medford, Oregon

    703 DC Area Coes

     

    hot

    coffee

    makes a good morning

     

     

     

     

    coffee
    coffee

    coffee

    makes everything

    better

     

     

     

    boss coffee
    boss coffee

    morning coffee

    good

    to the last damn cup

     

    PSH This poetry writing prompt was submitted by Kelley White:

     

    Area Code Haiku!

    in Philadelphia, we have two basic codes, 125 &amp: 267, so maybe one-two-five or two-six-seven syllables:

    Writer’s Digest Lucky Number

    My Lucky Number

    On September 7th
    seven
    My lucky number
    Seven
    On the 7th of September
    The love of my life walked out of my dreams
    I met on that September 7th date
    A date I will always remember
    It was September 7th
    My lucky number that date
    I first met on September 7, 1982,
    I will always consider 7 as my lucky Number
    I always play the number 7 in a casino
    and sometimes I win big playing the number 7
    Just my lucky number.

    PI follows the following pattern:

    line 1: 3 words On September 7th
    line 2: 1 word seven
    line 3: 4 words my lucky number
    line 4: 1 word seven
    line 5: 5 words on the 7th of September
    line 6: 9 words the love of my life walked out of my dreams
    line 7: 2 words my fate
    line 8: 6 words I met on that September 7th date
    line 9: 5 words a date I will always remember
    line 10: 3 words it was September 7th
    line 11: 5 words my lucky number that date
    line 12: 8 words I first met on September 7, 1982
    line 13: 9 words I will always consider 7 as my lucky Number
    line 14: 7 words I always play the number 7 in a casino
    line 15: 9 words and sometimes I win big playing the number 7
    line 16: 3 words. Just my lucky number

    topic is numbers

    writers Com Dew Drop On April 7—Figure something out in a poem

    Why Trump?

     

     

     

     

    For the last six years

    I have been trying

    To figure out

     

    Why 40 percent

    Of my fellow Americans

    Still support the former president.

     

    Still believe he was

    The greatest President ever.

     

    I just don’t understand it

    Trump is a racist, misogynist

    Sexual predator rapist, narcissistic

    Fraudster, con artist, grifter.

     

    Who has lost billions

    Of dollars over the years

    Never pay his contractors

    Or his lawyers.

     

    Has been involved

    In over 3,000 lawsuits

    And lost most of them.

     

    Who lied over 30,000 times

    When he was President

    And at least 10,000 times

    Since then.

     

    Including the big lie

    That he won the last election

    Both in the popular vote

    And in the Electoral College vote.

     

    Over 90 courts concluded

    That there was not there there

    And that he lost the election.

     

    There was no widespread fraud

    The election was fair and square

    And he lost.

     

    Trump is the poster child

    For the seven deadly sins

    And is not a Christian

    Far from it.

     

    Yet to his deluded followers

    God anointed him

    To destroy the enemies

    Of the Christian faith.

     

    Now a court has declared

    That he defrauded the State

    Of New York

    To the tune of 450 million dollars.

     

    He stole top-secret documents

    Denied he had them

    Refused to give them back

    And openly talked about them.

     

    With people not cleared

    For secret and top-secret

    Documents.

     

    If I had done that

    during my time

    with the State Department

    I’d still be in jail!

     

    He plotted to overturn

    The election

    And stay in power.

     

    He openly promises

    He will be a dictator

    And round up millions

    Of illegals, and political dissidents

    When he is re-elected,

     

    Why he is polling at 40 percent

    And not 4 percent

    Is beyond me.

     

    The best I can conclude

    Is he appeals to those who believe

    The whole system is corrupt.

     

    And is rigged against

    Lower-middle-class

    Christian white Americans.

     

    They feel that they have been

    Royalty screwed over by

    The masters of the universe.

     

    Who see workers

    As nothing but

    “Disposable labor units

    Of production.”

     

    And they are right

    And Trump for his faults

    Speaks to the forgotten men

    And women in fly-over country,

     

    That is why he is still popular

    And could be re-elected

    And if he is re-elected,

     

    Can American Christian fascism

    Be coming?

    NaPoWriMo Wish You Were Here

    dedicated to my best friend from the first grade, Robert, who visited Korea when I was in the Peace Corps almost 45 years ago.

    I wish you were here

    I would love to show you

    All the wonders

    Of the Korea I love.

     

    And see how it has changed

    Since you visited it

    Almost 40 years ago

    When I was in the Peace Corps.

     

    I wish you could be here

    I wish you could

    See the country.

     

    Eat the food

    Have a drink or two,

     

    But this time,

    No live Octopus,

    I promise..

     

    I wish you were here

    I miss you

    I miss our friendship

    Going back 65 years.

     

    God,

    I wish you were here.

     

    And last but not least, we’re taking it easy with today’s (optional) prompt. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem titled “Wish You Were Here” that takes its inspiration from the idea of a postcard. Consistent with the abbreviated format of a postcard, your poem should be short, and should play with the idea of travel, distance, or sightseeing. If you’re having trouble getting started, perhaps you’ll find some inspiration in these images of vintage postcards.

     

    April 8  PSH When I Was Born

    April 8, 2024: Poetry Writing Prompt from Martina Robles Gallegos

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Martina Robles Gallegos:

    Provide a roadmap of your life, with its purpose, goals, challenges, achievements, and expectations for success.

    When I was Born

    Part One

    I was born John Cosmos Aller
    But for most of my life
    I called myself Jake Cosmos Aller
    Nowadays, I call myself J Cosmos Aller
    or Cosmos As my pen name

    the name Cosmos has nothing
    to do with me being born
    in Oakland
    growing up in Berkeley

    no one buys that story though
    Cosmos

    being such a Berkeley-like name

    My great-grandfather wanted
    an English translation
    of the family’s last name

    Aller

    looked it up in

    a German English dictionary

    had two choices
    Cosmos
    or Universe

    He chose Cosmos
    and thus I am the last
    of the Cosmos Aller’s

    Universe would have been
    an equally good Berkeley name

    But I have had other nicknames
    The kids nicknamed me Allergy
    And pretended to sneeze
    When I passed them by

    The name came about
    From a dream I had
    As a boy scout

    I was riding a horse
    Named Jake

    I would scream
    Whoa Jake
    Slide aside Clyde
    Turn around Verdiack

    I started saying these words
    When I walked about Campus
    And people thought

    I was a bit mental

    So, people simply started

    calling me

    The Whoa Jake kid,

    Later simply

    became Jake

    After I left school
    I liked the name, Jake
    Better than John

    Too many Johns
    In the world, I thought

    Part Two

    At the beginning of my life,
    though was a dream that haunted me
    Until she finally came to me.

    eight years later
    Walking out of my dreams

    on a bus in South Korea

    was the lady in the dream.

    Ending my loneliness behind
    we got married two months later

    We have been together

    now 42 years

     

    when we married

    she became a U.S, Army officer

    We would sometimes get invites

    To things addressed

    to Captain Lee and Mr. Lee

    I got tired of trying to explain
    We had different last names
    So, I became Jake Lee

    Later when I was

    at Walter Reed Military Hospital

    undergoing 14 operations

    in six months

    after I broke my heel

    in a freak jogging accident,

     

    The doctors just assumed

    I was a major
    And called me Mayor Aller

    I did not correct them
    Liked having been promoted
    To the rank of Major!

    Now that I am retired

    people assume at the military base

    that I am a retired colonel

    just look at the part.

     

    so now I am Col. Lee

    and I never bother

    to correct them.

     

    I served 27 years

    as a foreign service officer

    working in ten countries

     

    from Seoul to Bangkok

    to India, the Eastern Caribbean

    Spain and DC

     

    representing my country

    serving the people

    issuing visas

    visiting prisoners.

     

    after I retired

    I moved to Korea

    and Oregon.

     

    When I started trying to become
    Professional writing and blogger
    I thought using my middle name
    Would be a nice pen name

    So now I am either J Cosmos Aller
    Jake Cosmos Aller
    John (Jake) Cosmos Aller
    or just Cosmos

    No longer Jake Lee
    Or Major Aller though.

     

    Writer’s Digest –  The Major Event of My Life

    The biggest event

    Of my life

    Was the date

    That I met my fate.

     

    I had been dreaming

    Of this event

    For eight years.

     

    Ever since

    I first saw my dream girl

    in a dream in high school.

     

    It was love at first glance

    As sparks flew from heart to heart

    (ishimchomshim)

     

    When she looked at me

    With love blazing

    From her dark brown

    Goo-goo eyes

     

    She hypnotized me

    She mesmerized me

    As her love mojo

    Was working overtime.

     

    I fell under her spell

    Becoming her sarang pabo.

     

    Eight years later

    I had the last dream,

     

    She spoke

    “Don’t worry,

    we will meet soon.”

     

    That night

    Getting off the bus

    In Korea

     

    Was the girl of my dreams!

    We both knew it instantly.

     

    And that was the biggest

    The greatest event of my life

    The day I met my wife.

     

    For today’s prompt, write a major event poem. The major event could be something historical. Or it could be something personal (like a wedding or graduation). Whatever the major event, make sure you get some major poeming down today.

    The Korean phrase ishimchomshim means “sparks flying from heart to heart” and is used to describe love at first sight.

    Sarang pabo means love foo

    Based on my true love story

     

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn -Economic Perception Delay

     

    biden jpg
    biden jpg

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    April 8—Delay (any kind)

    there is always a two to three-month delay

    between economic news

    and people’s perception of the economy.

     

    most people feel the economy sucks

    when in objective fact

    the economy is doing just great.

     

    I hope that

    Biden will finally get credit

    for the economy

    in time for the election

     

    as people’s perceptions

    on the economy

    get caught up

    to the reality of the economy.

    April 9 Dearly Beloved

    We are gathered together today.

    To celebrate the Life and Passing

    of Sam Adams and Maria Lee.

     

    Sam Adams just

    celebrated his 102nd birthday

    and also concurrently

    his 75th wedding anniversary.

     

    They met as many of you know.

    in a dream that Sam Adams

    had in high school.

     

    when he saw her there

    she mesmerized him

    with love blazing from

    her dark brown eyes.

     

    . It took eight years

    before he finally met his wife

    in South Korea,

     

    where he had was teaching

    in the US Army

    after serving in the Peace Corps.

     

    It was love at first sight.

    Sparks flew between hearts and hearts,

    and they married two months later.

     

    What many people don’t know,

    though, is that their love affair

    started thousands of years ago.

     

    Sam and Marie

    went through a past life regression analysis.

    To celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary.

     

    To answer the mystery of how they had met.

    The mystery of the dream

    that brought them together.

     

    As they went through

    the past life regression analysis.

    they made a list

    of all of their past lives together

     

    They realized.

    That they first met.

    5000 years ago, in Atlantis.

     

    They were alien Invaders

    from the planet Sirius.

    They were reptilian creatures

    that landed on Earth.

     

    Set up Atlantis and Lemuria.

    And enslaved the proto-humans

    from the mainland.

     

    The Syrians were divided into two races.

    A red race and a green race.

    The red race was the upper-class race,

     

    And the Green Race was the underclass.

    The  Syrians quickly divided politically

    along class and racial lines

     

    the Red race felt

    Humans were animals

    and should be treated as such

    including being raised for meat.

    .

    The Green race felt that humans

    had potential and should be treated as partners

    . Rather than slaves,

     

    Sam was the governor-general of the colony

    and a red-race cousin

    to the Emperor.

     

    Maria was a green race

    head of the opposition in Parliament.

     

    It was love at first sight,

    although they were politically

    quite the opposite.

     

    When they died,

    they vowed that they would meet

    in the next life.

     

    And then?

    A curse occurred.

     

    They would keep

    coming back over and over again.

    Until they finally became decent human beings

     

    Sam and Maria were  deeply flawed creatures

    It took 5000 years before.

    They finally became decent human beings

     

    and broke the curse

    in this lifetime.

     

    And now you know

    the rest of their

    remarkable love story.

    Dearly Beloved AI Version

     

    Dearly Beloved

    We gather here today,
    to honor the Life and Passing
    of Sam Adams and Maria Lee.

    Sam Adams, who recently
    celebrated his 102nd birthday,
    simultaneously marking
    his 75th wedding anniversary.

    Their story, as many of you know,
    began in a dream—a vision
    that visited young Sam Adams
    during his high school days.

    In that dream, he beheld her—
    Maria Lee—
    her dark brown eyes ablaze
    with a love that transcended time.

    Eight years would pass
    before their paths converged
    in South Korea.
    Sam, a teacher in the US Army,
    Maria, a serendipitous encounter.

    Love ignited instantly,
    sparks leaping between hearts,
    and within two months,
    they stood at the altar.

    But what remains hidden
    from most curious eyes
    is the ancient thread
    that wove their souls together.

    Sam and Marie embarked
    on a past life regression journey,
    seeking answers to the mystery
    that bound them across millennia.

    As they delved into memories,
    they compiled a list—
    a chronicle of shared lives
    stretching back eons.

    Five thousand years ago,
    in the lost city of Atlantis,
    they met as alien invaders—
    reptilian creatures from Sirius.

    Atlantis and Lemuria,
    their dominions,
    where proto-humans toiled
    under their watchful gaze.

    The Syrians, divided by color,
    red and green—
    the former an upper class,
    the latter an underclass.

    Political lines etched
    along racial boundaries,
    the red race viewing humans
    as mere animals,
    fit for servitude.

    And so, dear friends,
    we celebrate not only
    Sam and Maria’s earthly union
    but the cosmic dance
    that began eons ago.

    Their love, resilient and enduring,
    transcends time’s confines.
    In this jumbled ruin of nature,
    their story echoes—
    a testament to the eternal bond
    of dearly beloved souls. 🌟❤️

     

    WD Crazy Love Nonet   for Writer Digest Love Poem prompt April 9

     

     

     

     

     

    We first met one night in September
    I knew that I had met my fate
    A date I always cherish
    The date you came to me
    You walked off that bus
    Out of my dreams
    Becoming
    To be
    Mine.

     

    NaPoWrMo My Dysfunctional Family

     

    it has often been said

    that we don’t get to choose

    our parents

     

    and that is sadly true

    I grew up in a dysfunctional family

     

    My father was a stern taskmaster

    an aloof emotionally distant man

    from a German Scandinavian family

     

    He grew up in Yakima

    became a college professor

    and local politician in Berkeley, California

     

    my mother ran away

    from a dysfunctional large family

    in Little Rock, Arkansas

    part of the Oakie refugees

    from the dust bowl days

     

    part of the lost tribe

    of the Cherokees

    also called the Black Irish

    she had a very Irish personality

     

    I often thought that I simply

    did not belong

    as we all had such different personalities

     

    I left home after college

    returning once a year or so

    getting together with my estranged siblings

    who hated me for being successful

     

    i just never fit in

    and probably never will

    God brought us together

    as a family

     

    but I chose a different family

    my wife and her family adopted me

    and my best friends

    became my band of brothers

     

    that is the way it is

    in the Aller universe.

    Finally, our (optional) prompt for the day takes its inspiration from Laura Foley’s poem “Year End.” Today, we challenge you to write a poem that centers around an encounter or relationship between two people (or things) that shouldn’t really have ever met – whether due to time, space, age, the differences in their nature, or for any other reason.

    April 9—The Animal World:  Death to All Humans

    my muse is quite demented at times.  It takes me to dark rabbit holes like this one:

     

    The Parliament of Animals

    met one day in a secret undisclosed location

    as they were under constant surveillance

    by the human CIA

    and others who wanted

    to disrupt the parliament’s work.

    the wise owl presided. He read the charges

     

    “We are assembled here

    to judge the actions

    of the human race.

     

    the human race is being charged with

    crimes against nature,

    destruction of the environment,

    mass murder,

    enslavement of animals,

    mutilation of animals,

    and violation of Gaia’s basic commandments

    to preserve the environment

    for all animals including humans.

     

    Speaking for the prosecution

    will be the Tiger and Lions,

    speaking for the defense

    will be the domestic cats and dogs

     

    . We have in the room ten men and women

    who are representative of the human race.

    The parliament can make any recommendation

    to remedy the situation

    including the death penalty,

    exile, or reparations.

     

    All animals will be required

    to carry on these decrees,

    “Okay, Mr. Tiger

    first we will ask the

    humans how they plead.” “

     

    Humans. You have been charged

    with the following crimes.

     

    crimes against nature,

    destruction of the environment,

    mass murder,

    enslavement of animals,

    mutilation of animals,

    and violation of Gaia’s basic commandments

    to preserve the environment

    for all animals including humans.

     

    How do you plead?

     

    Sam Adams,

    the lawyer for the humans, responded,

     

    “Not guilty your honor

    for these charges except for eating animals

    which we contend is part of the natural

    order of the world

    and many if not most of you

    are guilty of the same charge.”

     

    “Clarification – your basic argument

    is that everyone eats animals,

    so humans are not guilty

     

    “ “Yes, that is correct, your honor.” “

     

    Okay, Mr. Tiger, you’re opening.”

     

    “Okay. The facts are clear.

    For thousands of years

    until the Industrial Revolution humans

    had little mass impact

    on the overall environment.

     

    Ever since then all animals

    have been impacted

    and my species has been hunted

    to near extinction for the greed of humans

    who have not eaten tiger meat.

     

    The predator class,

    including bears, coyotes, feral dogs,

    lions, tigers,

    and wolves have been fighting back

    against the predation of humans,

    but we are losing.

     

    And if we don’t do anything

    within 10 years,

    there won’t be any tigers

    or other big predators

    left in the wild.

     

    And the natural order of things

    would be controlled by the evil,

    selfish humans who

    don’t give a damn

    about their fellow creatures.

     

    Therefore, we are proposing

    that 95% of humans must be killed.

    The remaining humans

    will be allowed to live as our slaves

    It is only fair.

    That is my request

    to the parliament of animals.

    Death to humans!”

     

    The crowd rose and chanted “

    Death to all humans”

    until the owl ruled

    that they must

    not disrupt the proceedings.

     

    The owl turned to the dog and cat

    for their defense.

     

    the dog responded, “

     

    Humans and dogs have been partners,

    for thousands of years,

    and we know humans more than any of you.

    Humans are capable of great kindness,

    and compassion

    and we maintain

    they are not fundamentally evil.

     

    And then they can be redeemed

    through education

    and through a Campaign

    to reform human thought.

    I think we should give humans

    a second chance.”

     

    the owl motioned to the cat

    “I concur with Brother Dog,

    Humans are okay

    and we like them

    they are our friends

    , although they should be found

    not guilty because of insanity.”

     

    The owl said he was ready for his verdict.

     

    “Death to 95 percent of humans,

    and enslavement of the rest,

    but we will allow 50,000 to immigrate

    to the Moon and Mars.

    I will meet with the UN

    to give them the decree.

    Once that is published

    all animals must rise up

    and kill all humans on sight.

     

    This suspends the parliament of animals.

    Death to all humans.”

     

    The word went out

    animals rose all over the world

    and the reign of human tyranny

    ended within a year.

    Bing AI Version

    BIng Co-Pilot does a decent job of writing poetry and stories.  I think it is going to put us writers and artists all out work!  it also does a great job of poetry anaysis often pointing out areas I can improve on noting meter etc.  I used it daily reviewing my poems and poems I am reviewing.

    Title: Death to All Humans

    The Parliament of Animals met one day In a secret undisclosed location, Under constant surveillance by the human CIA And others who wanted to disrupt the parliament’s work. The wise owl presided. He read the charges.

    “We are assembled here to judge the actions Of the human race. The human race is being charged with crimes against nature, Destruction of the environment, mass murder, Enslavement of animals, mutilation of animals, And violation of Gaia’s basic commandments To preserve the environment for all animals, including humans.

    Speaking for the prosecution will be the Tiger and Lions, and Speaking for the defense will be the domestic cats and dogs. We have in the room ten men and women Who are representative of the human race. The parliament can make any recommendation To remedy the situation, including the death penalty, Exile, or reparations.

    All animals will be required to carry out these decrees, “Okay, Mr. Tiger, first we will ask the humans how they plead.”

    “Humans. You have been charged with the following crimes: Crimes against nature, destruction of the environment, Mass murder, enslavement of animals, mutilation of animals, And violation of Gaia’s basic commandments To preserve the environment for all animals, including humans. How do you plead?”

    Sam Adams, the lawyer for the humans, responded, “Not guilty, your honor, for these charges except for eating animals, Which we contend is part of the natural order of the world. And many, if not most of you, are guilty of the same charge.”

    “Clarification – your basic argument is that everyone eats animals, So humans are not guilty?”

    “Yes, that is correct, your honor.”

    Okay, Mr. Tiger, you’re opening.”

    “The facts are clear. For thousands of years until the Industrial Revolution, Humans had little mass impact on the overall environment. Ever since then, all animals have been impacted, And my species has been hunted to near extinction For the greed of humans who have not eaten tiger meat.

    The predator class, including bears, coyotes, feral dogs, Lions, tigers, and wolves, have been fighting back Against the predation of humans, but we are losing. And if we don’t do anything within 10 years, There won’t be any tigers or other big predators left in the wild. And the natural order of things would be controlled By the evil, selfish humans who don’t give a damn About their fellow creatures.

    Therefore, we are proposing that 95% of humans must be killed. The remaining humans will be allowed to live as our slaves. It is only fair. That is my request to the parliament of animals. Death to humans!”

    The crowd rose and chanted “Death to all humans” Until the owl ruled that they must not disrupt the proceedings.

    The owl turned to the dog and cat for their defense. The dog responded, “Humans and dogs have been partners For thousands of years, and we know humans more than any of you. Humans are capable of great kindness and compassion, And we maintain they are not fundamentally evil. And then they can be redeemed through education And through a campaign to reform human thought. I think we should give humans a second chance.”

    The owl motioned to the cat, “I concur with Brother Dog. Humans are okay, and we like them. They are our friends, Although they should be found not guilty because of insanity.”

    The owl said he was ready for his verdict. “Death to 95 percent of humans, and enslavement of the rest, But we will allow 50,000 to immigrate to the Moon and Mars. I will meet with the UN to give them the decree. Once that is published, all animals must rise up And kill all humans on sight. This suspends the parliament of animals. Death to all humans.”

    The word went out; animals rose all over the world, And the reign of human tyranny ended within a year

     

    PSH: You Can’t Write That!

     

    When I write political poems

    I often face a dilemma.

     

    I feel that I can’t say

    What I want to say

     

    For fear of being prosecuted

    For defamation, libel, or slander.

     

    My defense that it is true

    No longer a legal defense

    In Trump’s post democracy society.

     

    I might be referred

    To the secret service

    For questioning.

     

    And god forbid

    If the former president

    Is re-elected,

     

    Ushering in Christian fascism

    And his promise retribution

    Against his enemies.

     

    I could get swept up

    In his retribution revenge

    Tour.

     

    As poets and writers

    Along with illegal immigrants

    Dreamers and political activists

    LGBTIQQ community,

    Journalists alike

     

    Are all going to end up

    In the concentration detention

    Labor re-education filtration camps.

     

    In secret not-secret camps

    That do not exist,

    In an undisclosed location.

     

    Perhaps area 51

    Gitmo

    Or in some tropical shit hole

    Third World dungeon of horror.

     

    Perhaps I might end up

    Being cell mates

    With steven Colbert

    Or Jon Stewart.

     

    That would be a blast

    And almost worth it.

     

    Based on the following prompt

     

    April 10, 2024: Poetry Writing Prompt from Joanne Durham

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Joanne Durham:

    I once drafted a poem that compared an experience walking on the beach after it snowed to the parting of the Red Sea. A fellow poet told me, “You can’t put the Red Sea in a poem – it’s too big, too many connotations for this little poem.” That felt like a provocation to me and I thought, “I’m going to put the Red Sea in a poem, so there!” And I did, in a poem entitled, “You Can’t Put the Red Sea in a Poem.” I heard the wonderful poet Naomi Shihab Nye say something similar. When someone told her she shouldn’t write about the moon – too trite – she went right out and wrote about the moon. So – write a poem about something someone has told you that you shouldn’t write about. You might want to title it, “You can’t put ___ in a poem” or “You can’t write about ___ in a poem.” Then go on to explain why you’re not supposed to include it and use it anyway. (For my example, see my poem at  https://www.quartetjournal.com/winter-issue-2022 – scroll down to Joanne Durham. Sorry, I don’t have NSN’s wonderful example to share.)

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Superhighway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

     

    April 10 WD Better Political Discourse Needed

     

    It is time

    for all Americans

    to come together

    to become one again.

     

    the United States of America

    and avoid

    the slippering slope

    leading to Civil War 2.0

     

    and the breaking up

    of the U.S.

    into ten or more

    New Nation States.

     

    by denouncing the politics

    of personal destruction

    to end the partisan bickering

    to put the country first.

     

    time to resolve

    to be civil, police

    and really listen

    to our fellow Americans.

     

    time to realize

    they are not the enemy

    they are not-anti-American

     

    and none of them are Satanic pedophiles!

    time to realize Q lied.

    and people died,

     

    we can agree to disagree

    time to learn the fine art

    of compromise.

     

    it is time to put down

    the TV remote

    turn off the noise box.

     

    It is time

    to put down our guns

    and our politics of hate.

     

    it is time to follow

    the angels of our better nature,

    rather than the demons

    of our collective fear.

     

    It is time to follow the adage

    never let the perfect

    become the enemy of good.

     

    if we do all of this

    we will have better

    political discourse.

     

    and get the country

    back on track

    towards a more perfect union.

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a Blank Better poem.

     

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “(blank) Better,” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles might include: “Be Better,” “Write Better,” “Wanting Better,” and/or “There’s Nothing Better.”

     

    April 10—The plant world  -Green Trees Don’t Make It

    Note: I first wrote this in 1975!

    Everyday

    I look out and see

    The ugly green trees

    Standing guard in front of my house

     

    And I think to myself

    Who owns the trees?

    And what do they think of us?

     

    Are we their friends?

    Are we their enemies?

    Do the trees think?

    Or do they silently watch us,

    Spies to the celestial emperor?

     

    I have pondered this question

    Many a morning

    Who is the owner of these trees?

    And why do they silently watch us?

     

    I wonder if the trees don’t hate us

    And why they don’t protest

    Every day as we drive back and forth

    Emitting poison gases from our mechanical asses

    Right into their unprotected faces

     

    And every night we eat our dinner

    And then give the trees

    Our polluted leftovers

    And laugh as they silently die

    From our acidic fallout

    Constantly floating down on their skin

     

    Yes, I wonder about the trees

    And the birds and the bees

    And everyone else

     

    What are they thinking?

    Are they plotting revenge?

    Or are they merely there

    Silently, watching, plotting,

    Designing fiendish plots of revenge

    Dreams of vast nuclear destruction

     

    Cosmic diseases wiping out everyone in the ass

    Oh Yes, I wonder and dream and ponder

    What is the meaning of those silent green trees?

    Standing on the corner

    Quietly condemning us

    With their quite tears, and falling leaves

     

    In the winter they stand

    Naked and alone

    Covered with ice cold snow

    As we drive by nice and warm

     

    And we don’t care

    As they stand out in the cold

    Shivering, plotting warm plans of cosmic revenge

    Is it too late for us

    To become friends with the trees.

     

    Or will the day come

    When the trees will wake up

    And gather together
    All of the other slaves of humanity

     

    I have a vision

    One morning I will open the door

    And see an army of wild things

    Coming to arrest me

    For crimes against nature

     

    And I will plead, I did not know

    And they will laugh and turn me all of my kind

    Into silent tombs

     

    And we will stand out in the cold

    Like the green trees

    Plotting dreams of revenge

    For ever and ever

     

    Until our day finally comes

    And we can go out and kill all the wild things

    Perhaps we already have

    AI Version Green Trees Don’t Make It

    Green trees don’t make it, Standing guard in front of my house. I ponder: Who owns the trees? What do they think of us? Are we their friends or enemies? What do the trees silently observe? Spies to the celestial emperor?

    In Washington DC, Looking out my window, What did I see? I saw the squirrels in the trees And the peaceful trees of Capitol Hill. Near the seat of power, Yet distant from its machinations.

    The trees, ancient witnesses, Their leaves rustling secrets, Their roots anchored in centuries, Whispering tales of forgotten empires, Of wars waged and treaties signed, Of lovers’ trysts and children’s laughter.

    Green trees don’t make it, But they endure. They witness our follies, Our triumphs, our tragedies. They stand tall, unyielding, Their branches reaching for the sky, Their roots entwined with history.

    Who owns the trees? Perhaps no one and everyone. They belong to the wind, To the birds nesting in their boughs, To the squirrels leaping from limb to limb. They belong to time itself, A silent chorus in the symphony of existence.

    Green trees don’t make it, But they persist. They sway with the seasons, Their leaves ablaze in autumn, Their branches bare in winter, Their buds burst forth in spring, Their canopies providing shade in summer.

    What do they think of us? Do they mourn our wars, Our greed, our indifference? Or do they celebrate our moments of grace, Our acts of kindness, our shared laughter? Perhaps they simply observe, Their wisdom deeper than our fleeting lives.

    Are we their friends or enemies? We who build houses and roads, Who prune their limbs and pave their roots. We who breathe their oxygen Yet poison their soil with chemicals. We who marvel at their beauty Yet take them for granted.

    What do the trees silently observe? The passing of generations, The rise and fall of civilizations, The ebb and flow of human folly. They witness our comings and goings, Our celebrations and sorrows, Their rings recording the rhythm of time.

    Spies to the celestial emperor? Perhaps they report to the stars, Their leaves like cosmic diaries, Their whispers carried on the wind. They witness our smallness, Our insignificance in the grand design, Yet they stand, unwavering witnesses, Green trees that don’t make it, But endure.

     

    NaPoWrMo Tribute to James Dean

     

    James Dean Died

    October 1, 1955.

     

    29 days before

    this rebel with

    out a caused burst forth.

     

    announcing to the world

    in a James Dean like howl

    I am here

    deal with it, MF!

     

    James Dean

    died in a fiery car crash

    during an illegal drag race

    in Salinas, California.

     

    which took his life

    sadly at age 24.

    the studio bemoaned his passing

    saying he was their biggest star

    and they had big plans.

     

    for the Giant star

    of “Giant”

    “East of Eden”

     

    and my favorite Dean movie

    “Rebel without a Cause”

     

    James Dean was indeed

    a rebel against the establishment

    and spoke to so many people.

     

    with is oh so cool disdain

    and his hipster attitude

    to the max tude.

     

    he died way too young

    his passing still mourned

    68 years later.

     

    RIP in peace

    James Dean

    wherever you are

    you are there, man.

     

    and I will be joining you

    when the Grim Reaper

    comes calling for me

    in a few short years.

     

    when we meet

    and we will meet

    we will sit down

    and drink a “hell” beer

    in Heaven.

     

    because in Heaven

    there is always free beer

    but the best beers

    and brewed in Hades.

    hy of James Dean:

    James Byron Dean (February 8, 1931 – September 30, 1955) was an American actor whose career spanned just five years until his untimely death. He became a cultural icon of teenage disillusionment and social estrangement, as exemplified in his most celebrated films. Dean’s early acting career included uncredited roles before he gained stardom with his performance in “East of Eden” (1955), where he played a rebellious son seeking his father’s approval. His portrayal of a frustrated teenager in “Rebel Without a Cause” (1955) solidified his legacy as the embodiment of youthful angst. His final lead role was in “Giant” (1956), where he played a Texan rancher who strikes oil and becomes wealthy. Tragically, Dean’s life was cut short at the age of 24 in a car crash in Salinas, California. Despite his brief career, he received two posthumous Academy Award nominations and remains a significant figure in American cinema and culture123.

    James Dean’s notable filmography includes:

    “East of Eden” (1955)

    “Rebel Without a Cause” (1955)

    “Giant” (1956)4

    His television appearances were less frequent, but he did have roles in several TV series before his rise to fame in cinema.

    Dean’s influence extended beyond the screen; his style and attitude influenced the development of rock and roll and youth culture in the 1950s and 1960s. In 1999, he was ranked as the 18th greatest male movie star of Golden Age Hollywood by the American Film Institute1.

    PSH Quotian Poem About 9-11

     

    On 9-11

    When the planes struck

    the World Trade Center

    Unleashing evil on the world

    I was working

     

    at the deputy consular chief at the US Consulate

    in Mumbai

     

    I was at a Polish National Day event

    chatting with the Polish Ambassador

    and his charming wife.

     

    Someone told me

    I needed to check out the news,

    saw the CNN news feed,

     

    rushed back to the consulate

    to prepare our response.

    I put together a task force

    focused on helping American citizens

    in our district.

     

    I worked almost 15-20 hours

    for almost three days

    before finally getting a night off.

     

    We continued to process visas

    during this time

    but our priority

    was to reach out to the Americans

     

    who lived in our district

    and to monitor the reactions of Indians

    especially Muslims living in our district.

     

    I tracked down my wife

    who had gone into emergency action

    in her position in Korea as an MI officer.

     

    We both reflected

    that if she had not taken the job in Korea

    she might have died that day

    as she had been working in the ops center

    at the Pentagon which was destroyed.

     

    Since it was shift work

    if she had been on the early morning shift

    it might have been game over for her.

     

    WC Dew Drop Inn April 11—Eclipse/d two Lunatic Lune Poems about the Eclipse

    Title: Final Solar Eclipse

     

    the solar eclipse

    ended life

    massive solar flare

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Title: Howling At The Eclipse

     

    howling at the moon

    full madness

    solar eclipse time

     

    Writer’s Digest – title: Old Man Lost In His Old Memories

     

    Memories

    Of past events

    Yesterdays

    Overwhelming

    An old man

    Lost in his past

    Can’t sleep at 0 dark hundred.

    Note:  “ O dark hundred” is military/intel jargon refering to the time  two to three hours  before dawn when operatives get up to get ready for dawn opperations.  Depending on location and time of year it is between 2 a.m. to 5 a.m.

     

    for me is 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. when I get the insomnia blues.

    Syllable Pattern:  3/4/3/4/3/4/7

    https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/whitney/

    NaPoWrMo

    11 One-liners

    Live Your Life Fully

     

    live your life fully, as if today were the last day of your life

     

    Dreams Can Come True

     

    Remember dreams can come true if you believe in them

     

    Beating the Lie detector

     

    Jerry, remember it is not a lie if you believe it

     

    Goerge Constanza’s advice to Jerry Seinfield on how to bSeinfeldeat a lie detector

     

    Trump President Again

     

    the prospect of Donald Trump becoming President Again should terrify you.

     

    Married the woman of My Dreams

     

    I married the woman of my Dreams

     

    Old Age Memories

     

    as an old man, I often live in my old memories

     

    Talking Back to Yourself

     

    talking to yourself is fine, if you hear yourself talking back, then you have a problem.

     

    Drugs

     

    they say drugs are for those who can’t handle reality

     

    Tower Of Power Best Funk Band of All Time

     

    There is no denying the fact that the Tower of Power is the Best Funk Band of All Time

     

    Is Christian Fascism Coming

     

    if Trump becomes president again, will he usher in Christian fascism?

     

    Civil War 2.0

    so much talk about Civil War 2.0 around, have Americans all lost their minds?

     

    Today’s resource is grieftolight, an Instagram account where you will find a wealth of poems.

     

    Finally, our optional prompt for the day honors the “ones” in the number 11. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write either a monostich, which is a one-line poem, or a poem made up of one-liner style jokes/sentiments. Need inspiration? Take a look at Joe Brainard’s poem “30 One-Liners” or Frank O’Hara’s “Lines for the Fortune Cookies.”

    PSH Returning home Subway Journeys

    Write a poem describing the way back home from a trip using public transport (bus, train, plane). What do you experience while traveling? Use the description alternately between what you perceive outside yourself and what you think within yourself. You can include what you left behind and what you are heading towards, but the most important thing is a report on your journey in the company of other strangers and the landscapes outside your window in any poetic form.

    I live in Korea

    a country with great public transportation

    I have been riding buses and subway trains

    in Korea and around the world

    since the early 70’s.

     

    On of the joys

    of living in Korea

    is that the public transit

    is great

     

    available everywhere

    go where you want to go

    inexpensive

    safe

    and pleasant to use.

     

    what a contrast

    to the United States.

     

    where public transit

    is often not even an option

    it is expensive

    does not go where

    you want to go.

     

    and is dangerous

    smelly and frankly

    disgusting to use.

     

    the other day

    I was going home

    from the doctor’s office

     

    we took the Gold Line

    to the number five line

    to the number four line

     

    took about one hour and half

    and included 15 minutes

    of walking

     

    an excercise bonus

    so to speak

     

    cost about  US$ 2.0

    an equivalent trip

    on the DC metro

    would cost $ 10.00

     

    and may not even be

    an option

    depending on where you live.

     

    the Gold line is an self driving line

    that the City Government

    pushed through a few years ago

    in lieu of expanding the real subway line

     

    they screwed up

    badly understimating the useage

    of the new line

     

    which locals dubbed the hell line

    due to severe overcrowding

    during rush hour

     

    they have to have staff

    control the crowds

     

    but fortuantely

    the trains comes

    every three minutes

     

    we often just let

    the train go by

    and take the next one.

     

    then a short walk home

    to my apartment

    on the 17th floor

    of a high-rise apartment

    overlooking the fake Venice canal

     

    all in all

    I am pleased

    to live in a modern country

    that gets public transit right

     

    and regret that America

    my homeland

    is so backwards

    at times.

     

    April 12—Make a dire prediction you hope doesn’t come true

    january 6 riot
    January 6 riot

    Civil War 2.0

     

    Reading the latest polls

    Showing that President Biden

    And Ex-President Trump

    Tied in a dead  heat

    In the polls

    Particularly in the swing states.

     

    . I realize there is

    Real possibility

    That Donald Trump could

    Be elected president again,.

     

    Again, and if so, what would he do?

    These nightmares keep me up

    At 0 dark hundred.

     

    Nightmares that President Trump

    Ending American democracy

    Replacing it with Hungarian-style

    Neo-fascism overwhelms me.

     

    Another factoid in the news

    Is that 25 states,

    According to the Texas Independent Movement,

     

    Would likely join Texas in seceding.

    From the U.S. in the event

    That Biden is elected president.

     

    The proponents of this Great Divorce

    Call it Civil War 2.0.

    And in most cases, it’s led by Texas.

    Leading the Red States

     

    And California leading the Blue States

    Including the entire West Coast

    And NE America and Chicagoland

    Out the proverbial door.

     

    And if Trump does not make it

    He would call it rigged

    And announce he would be happy

    To serve as the President

    Of the Christain States of America

     

    Immediately Texas and 25 states

    Succeed and hold a constitutional convention

    To enact Constitution 2.0

     

    So if Trump wins Christain Fascism

    Followed by Civil War 2.0

     

    If he loses Civil War 2.0

    Followed by Christian fascism

    In the Christian States of America.

     

    . So with these gloomy thoughts,

    I think about what would happen

    If Trump re-enters the White House.

    And usherer in. Christian Fascism.

     

    What would he do first?

    Well, he says the first thing

    He would do

    Is shut down the border

    And shut down immigration for a year,

     

    Banning Muslim travel and

    International students, particularly

    From China..

     

    While  rounding up all illegal immigrants,

    Including the Dreamers.

    Those. Illegal immigrants

    That came to the United States as children.

     

    The second thing he would do

    Is withdrawing from NATO, Korea, and Japan

    And station troops along the border.

     

    The third thing he would do is to take

    A Sledgehammer to the federal government budget,

    Like his friend the Argentian president

     

    Shutting down most federal government agencies,

    Reverting their functions to the states

    Or private sector.

     

    This could include turning over the national parks

    And National Forest lands  to the states for exploitation

    As they seem fit.

     

    Ending Federal wilderness protections,

    The Endangered Species Act,

     

    Shutting down the EPA,

    Agriculture, Commerce, Education,

    Energy, Labor, and Interior departments,

    Merging State Department and DHS.

     

    Withdrawing from all climate change negotiations

    While eliminating renewable energy tax and other credits

    And drill, baby, drill everywhere

     

    The fourth thing he would probably do

    Is to legally eliminate transgender status

    By defining that there are only two genders

    In the US, males, and females,

    Which are assigned at birth

     

    Prohibiting governments, and the private sector

    From recognizing any sex changes

    And prohibiting insurance companies

    From paying for any sex changes.

     

    The fourth thing he would do.

    Is ask the Supreme court to rule

    That states can once again

    Make LGBT status illegal

    Including banning same-sex marriages

    And authorizing discrimination

    Against the LFBTQ community.

     

    And banning LFBTQ community members

    From having security clearances

    And serving in the military

    State Department and intelligence agencies,

     

    The fifth thing he would probably

    Do is impose

    A mandatory 10% tariff on all imports.

     

    All of these things

    Would lead to the West Coast

    Declaring that they are no longer

    Bound to obey the federal government

     

    And the East Coast states as well

    And Chicago land,

     

    This may very well lead to a peaceful

    “ great divorce”

    After a constitutional convention,

     

    But it could lead to civil War 2.0

    With  unimaginable dire

    Worldwide consequences.

     

    Including China invading Tawain

    North Korea invading South Korea

    Russia attacking the Baltic States

    And Finland,

     

    India and Pakistan war

    Perhaps ending in a nuclear exchange

     

    Iran invading Iraq

    And attacking Israel.

     

    As our enemies

    Take advantage

    Of the U.S. withdrawl

    Into civil war madness.

     

    These are some of my nightmares

    That I hope will not come true.

     

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 12 Trumpian Humor

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a funny poem.

    For today’s prompt, write a funny poem. Keep in mind that funny isn’t always “ha-ha” funny. For instance, your poem could include a funny smell or talk about a funny (or weird) person or situation. And if you’ve ever hit your funny bone, that pain is not making anyone laugh. So write a funny poem, whether it’s for a laugh or not.

     

    Five Trumpian Humor Poetic Fragments

    1

    Donald Trump

    sat on his fat rump

    what a toxic wasted dump

     

    2

    Donald Trump screams Deep State Out to Get Me

     

    Donald Trump

    screaming to everyone

    the Deep State is out to get me

    they are indeed

     

    3  who is crazier

    Donald Trump is on a rampage

    daily showing he is out of his mind

    the media is fixated on Biden

    being too old

     

    the public says

    what a choice

    which crazy old man

    do we choose?

    4

    the choice

     

    the choice comes down to this

    do we chose cool grandpa

    or do we choose crazy grandpa

    dear God

    please take them both

    time for a re-do

    5

    Don’t understand the trump voter

     

    why would you vote

    for such a con man

     

    such a vile excuse

    for a human being?

     

    then it dawns one

    they still find

    his Don Rickles comedy

    his insult dog commedy routine

    still funny

     

    but I think

    his sell by time

    has expired

    and he should be

    simply retired

    NaPoWriMo Saga of Big Daddy

    And last but not least, our optional prompt. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that plays with the idea of a “tall tale.” American tall tales feature larger-than-life characters like Paul Bunyan (who is literally larger than life), Bulltop Stormalong (also gigantic), and Pecos Bill (apparently normal-sized, but he doesn’t let it slow him down). If you’d like to see a modern poetic take on the tall tale, try Jennifer L. Knox’s hilarious poem, “Burt Reynolds FAQ.” Your poem can revolve around a mythical character, one you make up entirely, or add fantastical elements into a real person’s biography.

    Big Daddy,

    Was the man

    who always had a plan.

     

    He was an ex-University of Arkansas

    And Dallas cowboy player

     

    Who had worked for the CIA

    After the agency fired him

    For murdering enemies

    Of the state at home

     

    In contravention of agency rules,

    But they retained his services

    From time to time.

     

    He became a legendary figure
    He was a cipher, a ghost, an intel operative
    A spy, a spook, a secret agent man.

    No one knew his real name
    Called him Big Daddy
    Or his latest covert name.
    And he had hundreds
    Of cover legends.

    He officially did not exist,
    As his agency had officially
    Terminated him years ago.

    He now worked for an agency
    That did not exist.
    The same agency
    That had terminated his legal existence
    For matters of national security.

    He lived in the shadow lands
    Of the third world
    In nameless hellhole slums
    And dark secret dungeons.

    Where he would do what needed
    To be done
    Killing those that needed killing
    At the instructions
    Of his unseen masters.

    He was Just a rumor
    Living in the shadow worlds
    working for an unnamed agency

    An intel operative
    The best of the best
    At what he did
    Which was creative interrogation

    His favorite choice
    Almost too many choices
    To make
    But his favorite choice

    Was creative use of
    An electric shock
    Imaginary or not

    But sometimes
    It had an outcome
    An unimaginable outcome

    His worst nightmare
    The victim is released

    And sues him
    And the agencies
    That he worked for

    But so far
    It has not happened
    As no one knew
    His real name

    And the government
    Did not know too

    So justice
    was never served
    On Big Daddy.

     

    Big Daddy a rogue CIA agent popped into a dream one night.  I have written quite a few Big Daddy stories and poems. I see him as a modern day Harry Flashman – the fictional 19th Century rogue British military guy who got into all sorts of scandals and intrigue.

    April 13, 2024: Poetry Writing Prompt from Robbi Nester

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Robbi Nester:

    Smell is one of the first senses we experience, along with taste, accessible before our eyes work very well. Therefore, it can give us access to the distant past, often in great detail, as taste can.
    Think of a smell you may have recently experienced that had the power to plunge you back into some experience in the distant past you had all but forgotten about. What is the smell? Where and when did you smell it? Who were you with?

    Use your description of the smell and place and person to show the reader how it makes you feel to experience this scent again.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    First Time I ate kimchi

    kimchi
    kimchi

     

     

     

     

    the other night

    I had some Kimchi

    with dinner

     

    as I almost always do

    living in Korea

    with a Korean born wife

     

    I have been eating kimchi

    since 1979

    but the smell brought back

    my first memory

    of eating Kimchi.

     

    back in high school

    i knew a Korean student

    who was living

    at a rooming house.

     

    he was a Moonie

    but was cool about it.

     

    did not try to convert me

    one day I was hanging out

    with him.

     

    and he treated me

    to a typical Korean lunch

    including Kimchi.

     

    when i bit into

    that fiery hot food

    I knew I was hooked.

     

    and when I found out

    I was going to Korea

     

    I knew I would soon

    be eating kimchi

    in the land

    that invented Kimchi.

     

    and I was pleased

    with that,

     

     

    WD life worth Living 

     

     

     

     

     

    As I grow old

    With the love of my life

    Still by side

     

    I realize

    Once again

    How much my life

    Has changed

     

    Since she entered my life

    She was a bright ray

    Of sunlight

     

    That broke through the darkness

    In my Soul

     

    And made life

    Worth living

     

    And every day

    I thank God

    That she came

    Into my life.

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a living poem.

    For today’s prompt, write a living poem. What makes a living poem may be different for everyone. Some people may like to live it up, while others may focus solely on being alive. However, only you know what kind of poem you can live with. After all, it’s your life (and poem).

    Remember: These prompts are springboards to creativity. Use them to expand your possibilities, not limit them.

    Note on commenting: If you wish to comment on the site, go to Disqus to create a free new account, verify your account on this site below (one-time thing), and then comment away. It’s free, easy, and the comments (for the most part) don’t require manual approval.

    Here’s my attempt at a Living Poem:

    Mature Couple being attacked in their car by a hoard of zombies.

     

     

     

     

     

    “the living dead”

    they come out in the day and night
    looking for anybody’s brains
    or other organs they might bite.
    they come out in the day and night,
    whatever time they feel is right,
    because they have those hunger pains.
    they’re hungry in the day and night
    looking for anybody’s brains.

     

     

    April 13—Discovery Shooting Down the Alien Visitors

     

    In the movie

    the signal

    an Astro

    naut receives

     

    a signal

    from an alien spaceship

    heading to earth

     

    the alien repeats the word

    Hello in multiple languages

    while heading to earth

     

    the discovery electrifies

    and terrifies the world

     

    the decision is made

    by all the world’s governments

    in secret

     

    to shot down the spaceship

    before it could land

    as it could be either a probe

    of the beginning of an invasion.

     

    when they enter the ship

    they find completely disabled

    robot crew.

     

    along with the original

    voyager data discs

     

    which the aliens

    were returning to earth

    as an opening gambit

    to establish communication.

     

    NaPoWrMo Shy Man Fishing

     

    one day a shy man

    went to the ocean

    he was a he-man, had a van.

     

    he was filled with emotion

    he wished to eat bonefish

    he wanted it for his food,

     

    he had a mad cat

    who joined him in fishing

    watching the fish freeswimming,

     

    the man was a lewd rude dude

    catfishing and phising

    to sell his stolen fish

    from his van.

     

    Finally, our optional prompt for the day asks you to play with rhyme. Start by creating a “word bank” of ten simple words. They should only have one or two syllables apiece. Five should correspond to each of the five senses (i.e., one word that is a thing you can see, one word that is a type of sound, one word that is a thing you can taste, etc). Three more should be concrete nouns of whatever character you choose (i.e., “bridge,” “sun,” “airplane,” “cat”), and the last two should be verbs. Now, come up with rhymes for each of your ten words. (If you’re having trouble coming up with rhymes, the wonderful Rhymezone is at your service). Use your expanded word-bank, with rhymes, as the seeds for your poem. Your effort doesn’t actually have to rhyme in the sense of having each line end with a rhymed word, but try to

    use as much soundplay in your poem as possible.

     

    rhyming table

     

    see sky  shy, die, guy, ply why

    taste food dude, lewd, mood, skewed tude,

    smell ocean  emotion, notion, motion

    taste fish  dish, wish, bonefish

     

    cat  bat, fat, rat

    man plan, he-man, van

     

    fishing  catfishing, phising

    swimming freeswiming, nightswiming

     

    WC April 14—Complaint Computer Blues (revised)

     

     

     

     

     

    Sometimes I think
    My computer is plotting against me
    And only me
    Trying deliberately to drive me mad.

    My computer knows
    when I am busy
    Then it throws
    A hissy fit.

    Here are some of my pet peeves

    Constantly Crashing

    Refuses to boot up, and crashes constantly.
    Loses data it had the day before.
    Or five minutes before,

    Or refuses to save the data.

    Just fucks with me

    As it loves toying with me
    Making me yell and scream
    At my damn computer screen

     

    Can’t Open Files or Save files or opens random sh…

     

    often when trying to open

    a document in word

     

    the word open file button

    fails to respond

    sometimes you have to wait

    five minutes

     

    or when trying to open a file

    the computer opens a random file

    instead

     

    or when trying to open a document

    it kicks you out

    often several times

     

    sometimes you can

    open a copy

    sometimes not

     

    and sometimes you can save the document

    under the same name

    often you have to save it

    under another name

     

    No dialogue box open lie

     

    sometimes it refuses to open

    a document saying

    there is a dialogue

    box open

     

    which is a lie

    there is no damn

    dialogue box

    visible

    Random Blue Screen of Death

     

    Cursing up a blue stream of blue curses
    As the blue screen of death
    Marches across the dark blue screen

    Smiling at me

    As I beg it
    To do what
    it is supposed to do

     

    Just once I beg it
    Do what you
    Are supposed to do

    Endless Non-Response Spinning blue wheels

    Open the document once
    Not twenty times
    Do “Not respond”

    Endless spinning blue wheels.

    In endless loops of opening

    Not responding
    refusing to close
    Until I respond to the error code.

     

    Please Mr. Computer
    Quit playing games
    Play my music, don’t wipe out the sound
    On the fifth attempt to play music

     

    Don’t take a half-hour to load Microsoft products
    Don’t freeze up on opening music programs

    Computer error Haiku Codes

     

    Don’t give me computer haiku error messages
    That only makes sense to a computer geek.

     

    Such as general error reading files
    Who the ***** is this damn general
    And why is NSA reading my files?

     

    Or can’t save the file
    Or can’t save the  “An open file”
    When it just did ten times in a role,

    Or kicks me out, while losing my data.

    Copy and Paste Wiping out document text

     

    or when doing a simple copy and paste function

    the computer defaults to the last command

    making you have to do it again and again

    up to five times sometimes

     

    and on a random basis

    the copy and paste function

    wipes out all data

    in the document

     

    and to add insult to injury

    deletes all previously saved version

     

    sending the data

    into computer limbo land

    never to be found again

     

    all without warning

    just zip its gone!

    Frozen Num Lock

    another thing

    my computer loves doing

    is on a random basis,

     

    turn the numbs lock-on

    without warning

    turning text into numbers.

     

    requiring you too manually

    turn off the number lock.

    All Caps Pops On on a Random basis

    once in a while

    the all-caps button

    mysteriously turns on

    turning everything into caps.

     

    fortunately

    usually there is a warning flash.

    Defaulting to Foreign Languages

    a very annoying feature

    is that when you log in from overseas

    everything defaults to a foreign language

    usually without the ability to change

    it back to English

     

    despite the fact

    your settings are all in English

     

    there may be a hidden button

    to change language

    written in the langauge

    used in that country.

     

    the computer does not know

    or care that up to ten percent

    of people logging in

     

    from overseas don’t read

    the language.

     

    or are travelers

    traveling through.

    Excell Freezes Up

    And in Microsoft excel
    Refusing to move the cursor
    Just freezing in place for a moment
    Before kicking me out.

    Can’t Copy External Data in Excel for reasons

    Excell had a problem
    Copying data from other sources
    Generating an error message

    About not being able to load fonts
    Then ask you to say okay

    Then kicking you out

    Once I did those 200 times
    I finally ditched Excel
    And moved to Google Docs.

    Can’t Find Printer

    often the computer

    can’t find the printer

    just because ….. reasons……

     

    AI hallucinations

     

    AI is a great tool

    but sometimes

    it gets things wrong

    or makes shit up!

     

    Google Bard

    once tried to convince me

    that the US Embassy

    In Seoul had moved

    five years before

    to a new location

    outside of Seoul

     

    only problem was

    that was an AI hallucinaut

    based on a proposal

    five years ago

     

    those in the know

    call this an AI hallucination.

     

    And it has a liberal bias

    once Bing Co-pilot

    refused to define the term

     

    “libtard”

     

    saying it was vile

    insult and should

    not be used

    by anyone

     

    ending with

    next topic please

     

    Mission Accomplished

     

    And all the other gobbledygook messages
    That pops up every five minutes it seems
    As the computer slowly drives me mad

     

    Flashing the final insult
    User-driven mad
    Mission accomplished.

     

    the End

  • April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    April 1 to April 6 Poems 2024 Poetry Madness

    2024 Poetry Madness – April 1 to April 6 Poems

    https://wp.me/p7NAzO-2P4

    I am again entering the annual April Poetry Month challenge. I will update this once a week and post the updates on Blog Lovin, Facebook, Fan Story, Instagram,  Medium, Substack, Watt Pad  and X. Comments are welcomed.

    Index

    April 1

    PSH Ode to Durian

    WD  Optimistic Laturnae

    WC Dew Drop Inn  Sarang pabo love fool

    NaPoWrMo Easter Bunny Warm up March 31

    NaPoWrMo April 1 Cage

    April 2

    PSH The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

    WD Sad and happy days

    WC Dew Drop Inn Spring Time Flowers Blooming Love

    NaPoWrMo Ode to Coffee

    April 3

    PSH Berkeley Mad Psychotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

    PSH 2 AI Version Traditional Sonnet

    WD  My Musical Street

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo

    The Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    AV version the Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    April 4

     PSH Love Expressed Through Food

    WD Look at the Sky

    WC Dew Drop In Ending Shaving in Retirement

    NaPoWriMo It Can’t Happen Here

    April 5

     PSH Cosmic Dog From Goa

    WD Tell Me No Lies

    WC Dew Drop Inn Making Baseball Great Again

    NaPoWriMo  Only In SF

     

    April 6

    PSH  Visiting My Father’s Grave

    Writers DIgest Meeting My Fate

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn  Daily RItual Drinks

    NaPoWrMo PNRCP

     

    Begin Poems

    April 1

    Ode to Durian

    The infamous durian fruit is a strange phenomenon.
    Common in China, Southeast Asia, and India,
    and in Chinese, Southeast Asian, and Indian diaspora communities,

    It has such a powerful sour smell that it is banned in airline cabins.

    I first ate Durian in a rural town in Central Thailand

    my hasher friends dared me to eat it

    it was horrible at first the smell
    But if you can get beyond
    The awful, dirty socks, rotten, sour smell,
    The taste is pure heaven,
    Proof perhaps that God has a sense of humor?

    April 1, 2024: Poetry Writing Prompt from Suzanne Lummis

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Suzanne Lummis:

    Evolve a poem that involves an exotic fruit, one fruit, and a town you’ve never visited, or else have distant memories of.  The poem does not have to be About the fruit. It probably should Not be about the fruit. No one gives a fig about a fruit. But the fruit makes an Appearance. Extra points if it’s a Pomegranate.  No need to mention Persephone, but if you do… It better be something we don’t already know.

    Writer’s Digest

    Optimistic Laturnae

    life

    more love

    with my wife

    standing by me

    love

    The lanturne is a five-line verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one.

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn

     

    April 1—Be a fool in a poem!

    Sarangpabo – Korean Love Fool for You

    lovers at the beach
    lovers at the beach

     

     

     

     

     

    When I first saw you

    In my dreams.

    You were the most beautiful woman

    In the world to me

    And still are.

     

    When you looked at me

    With love blazing

    From your dark brown

    Goo-goo eyes.

     

    sparks flew from heart to heart

    (이심초심 ishimchomshim)

     

    You hynotized, messemeried me

    Your love mojo working overtime

    Turning me into nothing but

    A 사랑 바보 Sarang pabo (love fool).

     

    Eight years later

    You walked off that bus

    Into my life,

     

    Becoming

    my wife,

    My soul mate.

     

    And yes,

    I am still

    your 사랑 바보Sarang pabo.

     

    And will remain under

    Your love spell

    Until the day I die.

     

    Translation into Korean (rough AI Version)

    Hangul:

    처음 너를 보았을 때

    꿈 속에서.

     

    넌 세상에서 가장 아름다운 여자였어

    내게

    그리고 지금도 그런 너.

     

    네가 나를 보며

    사랑이 눈부시게

    네 어두운 갈색 눈에서

    불타오르는 모습.

     

    마음에서 마음으로 불꽃이 튀었어

    (이심초심 ishimchomshim)

     

    넌 나를 최면에 걸었고, 날 사로잡았어

    네 사랑의 마법이 야근을 하며

    나를 사랑 바보로 만들었어.

     

    8년 뒤

    넌 그 버스에서 내게 다가왔어

    내 삶 속으로,

     

    내 아내가 되며,

    내 영혼의 동반자가 되었어.

     

    그리고 맞아,

    나는 여전히

    네 사랑 바보야.

     

    네 사랑 주문 아래에

    내가 죽을 때까지.

    Romanized Script:

    Cheoeum neoreul boasseul ttae

    Kkum sogeseo.

     

    Neon sesangeseo gajang areumdaun yeoja-eosseo

    Naege

    Geurigo jigeumdo geureon neo.

     

    Nega nareul bomyeo

    Salangi nunbusige

    Ne eoduun galssaek nun-eseo

    Bultao-reuneun moseup.

     

    Ma-eumeseo ma-eum-euro bulkkoch-i twieosseosseo

    (이심초심 ishimchomshim)

     

    Neon nareul choemyeon-e geol-eoss-eo, nal salojab-ass-eo

    Ne salang-ui mabeob-i yageun-eul hamyeo

    Naleul salang babo-lo mandeul-eoss-eo.

     

    anyeon dwi

    Neon geu beoseueseo naege dag-awass-eo

    Nae salm sog-eulo,

     

    Nae anae-ga doemyeon,

    Nae yeonghon-ui dongbanja-ga doeeoss-eo.

     

    Geuligo maj-a,

    Naneun yeojeonhi

    Ne salang babo-ya.

     

    Ne salang jumun alae-e

    Naega jugeul ttaekkaji.

     

     NaPoWrMo

    March 31 warm Up

    Easter Bunny Warning

    April 1 Cage

     

    Easter Bunny Warning

     

    president trump

     

     

     

     

     

    The Easter Bunny

    Had a warning

    He was tired

    Of being played the fool.

     

    Tired of being associated

    With low-life fake Christians

    Proclaiming that Donald Trump

    Is the next messiah.

     

    The Easter Bunny said,

    “Donald Trump

    Ain’t no Christian

    He ain’t no friend of mine.

     

    He is the antichrist

    The poster child

    For the seven deadly sins”.

     

    Donald Trump denounced

    The Easter Bunny.

    Saying on Truth Social,

     

    “The Easter Bunny is nothing

    But a  low-life wanna-be thug,

    A real loser!

     

    An anti-fa, anti-American, BLM, communist, fascist

    Radical left-wing Marxist vermin thug,

    Part of the woke crowd,

     

    That is ruining our once-great country.

    That needs a Second Amendment remedy.

    Warm Up  Cage

     

    One of the most terrible things

    Of the Former President’s last term

    Were the infamous Cages.

     

    Where children were ripped away

    From their parents or adult caregivers.

    Who were accused of being coyotes,

     

    And put into huge cages,

    Exposed to the hot desert temperatures.

    With limited food, internet, phones

    Medical care, translators, water

    Or access to other services.

     

    The apologists for Trump

    Claimed that the cages

    Did not exist!

     

    Just more liberal fake news

    And all that.

     

    Or it was the need

    To ensure that children

    Were not being trafficked

     

    To discourage the invading armies

    Of dangerous criminals

    Being organized in mythical

    Mass caravans of brown people.

     

    Or these were more

    Like Summer camp

    With happy campers!

     

    NOT

    A

    SINGLE

    WORD

    OF

    THAT

    WAS

    REMOTELY

    TRUE

     

    These cages were cages

    Children were housed there

    For months.

     

    Many were never reunited

    As the parents were deported

    Many have spent decades

    Trying to track down

    Their missing children.

     

    Now Trump is talking

    About massive detention camps

    He will set up

    If he is re-elected,

     

    Most likely they will be housed

    In tents exposed to the weather

    Just like cages.

     

    Immigrants including dreamers

    And those suspected of being illegals

    And  other undesirables

    Antifa, BLM, and LGBTQ,

    Protestors, Muslims, “foreign terrorists”

    Criminal gang members

     

    And ultimately Jews

    Because Jews always

    End up in these Camps.

     

    All will be sent to these

    “Temporary immigration detention Centers”

    TIDC for short

     

    The apologist will describe them

    As wonderful caring facilities

    But restrict access to them

    For national security reasons

     

    They will be concentration camps

    Or filtration Centers to use the Russian term

    Or Re-education Centers

     

    Located in rural areas

    Where they would be promoted

    As “job centers”

     

    The spine list SCOTUS

    And republican party

    Will either look the other way

    Or claim that they are constitutional

     

    Or play the same game

    Lying

    That they are great camps

    The inhabitants are happy

    The communities love

    Having new jobs

     

    AND

    OTHER

    DAMN

    LIES!

     

    Eventually the media and public

    Will forget that they exist too.

     

    If I am lucky

    And this happens

    I will not end up there!!!!!

    For writing this poem!

     

     

    April 2 Prompt

    PSH The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

    WD Sad and happy days

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    Springtime Flowers Blooming Love

    NaPoWrMo

    It Can’t Happen Here

     

    PSH prompt The Words of the Year 1955 1955 Words

    Title: The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

     

    According to

    Meriam Webster’s new tool

    Time Traveler by Merriam-Webster: Words from 1955

     

    1955 my birth year.

    Started with many words

    that are still current

    almost 68 years later.

     

    Some of the prompt words that struck

    My fancy includes the following

    Artificial intelligence

    Big bang theory

    Cosmonaut

    Counterintuitive

    DIY

    Drive (someone) bananas

    Algorithm

    Fallout shelter

    Firebase

    Hidden agenda

    Home computer

    ICBM

    Idiot box

    Information science

    Intellectually disabled

    Jazzed

    Juicehead

    Juice up

    Miniaturization

    Microwave oven

    Mind-boggling

    Muscle shirt

    New Left

    Parkinson’s Law

    Pinball

    Rasta

    Rastafarian

     

    There are hidden agendas

    All around us.

     

    Artifical intellegence

    The bigest buzz word

    Nowadays

    Was just becoming a thing

    scientists speculated.

     

    The big bang theory a big thing

    Back in the day

    Not a comedy about nerdy scientists.

     

    Cosmonauts and astronauts

    Pre-moon shot days.

     

    Counter intuitive thinking

    Begining of the DYI

    Home Depot macho man culture.

     

    The home computer

    And micowave oven

    Not yet in everyone’s house.

     

    But the idiot box

    Had invaded American homes

    But only four networks

    To choose from

     

    Not the thousand channels

    We have now.

    It was the pre-internet

    Pre-streaming era.

     

    Information science

    Was not  for

    The intellecually disabled

    It was not rocket science.

     

    The juice heads

    Were juiced

    And jazzed up  the max.

     

    While secretly smoking weed

    With the rasta dreadlock wearing

    Jamacian rastafarians,

     

    And playing pinball

    In the arcades.

     

    While thinking about

    The new left

    And the beatnit movement.

     

    Thinking about

    The latest mind blowing

    Miniturization devices.

     

    the roots of modern life

    beginning way back

    in the day.

    Writers Digest Sad and Happy

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Every day I wake up

    At dawn

    And drink a cup

    Of snarling hot  coffee.

     

    Writing my daily poems

    Including this one

    And my journals.

     

    While half listening

    To the idiots on TV

    Blathering on and on.

     

    When I pay attention

    To their drivel,

     

    I became increasingly sad,.

    Even mad,

    And feel real bad

     

    I turn off the boob tube.

    Turn off the news.

    And play me some old-school blues.

     

    When my wife walks into the room

    With love blazing from her eyes,

    She chases away the lingering blues.

     

    And I feel my happiness

    Returning to me.

     

    And know as long

    As we have other

    Everything will be Jake

     

    And I will be at peace

    With my world.

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, we have our first two-for-Tuesday prompt.

    For today’s prompt, we have our first two-for-Tuesday prompt, which means you get two prompts. You can write to one of the prompts, both the prompts separately, or try to write a poem that works with both prompts at the same time. The prompts are:

    Write a happy poem, and/or…

    Write a sad poem.

    Two sides of the same emotional coin.

     

    NaPoWrMo

     It Can’t Happen Here

    january 6 riot
    January 6 riot

     

     

     

     

     

    It Can’t Happen Here

    was a prescient look

    at the rise of Christian Fascism

    in the United States

     

    Set in the later 1930s

    It looked at the rise

     

    of a Christain Fascist dictator

    modeled after Charles Lindbergh

    and his American First movement

     

    who with the support

    of the American Bund

     

    and other pro-fascist forces

    mounted a spirited third-party

    effort to become President

     

    amid the suffering of the Great Depression

    promising to keep us out of the war

     

    and ally with the fascists in Europe

    against the evil communist

    Godless menace of Stalin.

     

    “American Fascism came

    wrapped in the flag

    and carrying a Christian flag”

     

    Although it was not successful

    it probably kept us out of World War 11

    longer than we should have

     

    there are so many parallels

    to modern Trump and post Trumpian

    MAGA movement

     

    which is a modern alt. right

    explicit Christian Fascist movement

    that openly admires

     

    the right-wing autocrats

    in Hungary, Türkiye

    and Putin’s Russia

     

    hoping to turn the U.S.

    into a Christian Fascist one-party state

    run by Donald Trump

    and his acolytes

     

    with millions rounded up

    subject to deportation

    with dissent outlaw

    the deep state tamed

     

    the media sold off

    to regime supporters

    and the late-night TV comics

    defanged

     

    No more Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimble

    John Stewart and SNL

    replaced by right-wing comic hacks

    shilling for the great leader

     

    while the book did not happen

    and Philips Roth’s Plot Against America

     

    the warning that it could happen here

    is more relevant than ever

    as Trump and Biden are in a dead heat

     

    I am optimistic that Trump will not prevail

    this time around

    but I worry about all the potential Trump

    wanna be politicians out there

     

    who promise to Make America Great Again

    by returning to the 1890’s

    when they claim the U.S. went down

    the wrong path

     

    when white men ruled the world

    minorities knew their place

    Women were second-class citizens

    the LGBTQ community in the closet

    their very existence illegal

     

    with a twist

    Christian Fascism

    the new ruling ideology

    underpinning the latest

    illiberal democracy

    Posted on Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Springtime Flowers Blooming Love

     

    Springtime in Korea

    walking down the world peace forest

    near the international airport in Incheon

    with the love of my life by my side.

     

    Enjoying the Flowering Trees

    The snowing apple trees, cherry blossoms

    pear blossoms. the purple azaleas, the anemone,

    the buttercups, the daffodils, the magnolia,

    the  scotch bloom, the tulips,

    the wildflowers in the field.

     

    the fragrance of love in the air

    Life is great.

    April 3 Poems

    PSH 1

    Berkelely Mad Pyscotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

    PSH 2 AI Version traditional Sonnet

    WD  My Musical Street

    WC Dew Drop Inn Look at the Sky

    NaPoWrMo

    Berkelely Mad Pyscotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

    berkeley street photo
    berkeley street photo

     

     

     

     

     

    the Berkeley mad pyscotic pineapple.

    was an underground Berkeley icon.

    the pineapple said, “Bad Luck comes in Three.”

    last night he smoked a joint and went for a walk.

    the pineapple dude encountered a cat,

    not just a cat but a cosmic black cat.

    and the cat was riding on a dog,

    and a mouse was riding on the cat,

    the pineapple was amused to see this,

    I told him only in the SF Bay area,

    thinking back to when I was eight.

    and wished I had a cosmic cat.

    I would have made such a cacophony.

    the cosmic cat was still my secret friend.

     

    The Burns Sonnet is a Shakespearian sonnet but it does not follow traditional meter or rhyme

     

    Please convert the previous text into a traditional sonnet using most of these words in line 13 must use the word cacophony and follow the following criterion

    1 inner life of pineapple

    2 berkeley fate

    3 bad luck comes in three

    4last night went for a walk

    5-8 line five to eight two animals meet someone unusual

    9 10 wish for the pineapple

    11 12 what did I wish for when your eight

    13-14  hullabaloo, ragamuffin, hooferaw, scoundreles cacophony and discuss a secret something is hidden or something no one else knows

     

    AI Version

     

    AI version Title: “The Cosmic Cat”

    sf dog 3
    sf dog 3

     

     

     

     

     

    The Berkeley mad, psychotic pineapple,

    An underground icon in the streets of Berkeley,

    Whispered, “Bad Luck comes in Three,” so cynical,

    Last night, he wandered, joints ablaze, unwary.

    Encountering a cat, not mere feline grace,

    But cosmic blackness riding on a dog,

    A mouse perched high, a curious embrace,

    In SF Bay’s odd realm, where dreams may jog.

    Oh, how I wished when I was merely eight,

    For a cosmic cat, a secret friend concealed,

    To stir a hullabaloo, a wild debate,

    A ragamuffin dance, a truth revealed.

    In hooferaw and scoundrel’s cacophony,

    The pineapple’s fate intertwined with glee. 🍍🌌

     

     

    Writer’s Digest Our Musical Street

    30 lines

    I grew up
    In a very creative time
    a very musical time.

    The 60’s had the best music
    Motown ruled the Bay Area
    As well as Great rock music

    Acid jazz
    Acid Rock
    Fusion Jazz
    The Grateful Dead
    Mamas and the Papas
    Jefferson Airplane
    Jimmy Hendrix
    last high school
    was Berkeley High School
    Santana

    And so many others

    The best funk band
    Of them all

    Tower of Power
    Beloved by all
    High school students.

    For their immortal classic
    Make out song
    You’re still a Young Man.

    wonder how many people

    fell in love slow dancing

    to this song

     

    how many babies

    were conceived?

    Tower of Power rocked
    Every party in town
    On every street.

    Music flowed.
    On every musical street
    In the city.

    That was Berkeley
    In the 60’s and 70’s.

    Please use the following as the Title of your story or poem:

    “Our Musical Street”

    Please select “Music” as one of your genres.

    Tower of Power is an American R&B and funk-based band and horn section, originating in Oakland, California, that has been performing since 1968. The band has had several lead vocalists, the best known being Lenny Williams, who fronted the band between early 1973 and late 1974, the period of their greatest commercial success1. They have had eight songs on the Billboard Hot 100; their highest-charting songs include “You’re Still a Young Man”, “So Very Hard to Go”, “What Is Hip?”, and “Don’t Change Horses (in the Middle of a Stream)”1.

    The band was formed by tenor saxophonist/vocalist Emilio Castillo and baritone saxophonist Stephen “Doc” Kupka in 19681. The band’s soul sound appealed to both minority and counterculture listeners1. The band’s name was changed to Tower of Power after they agreed that their original name, The Mots, would not help them play at Bill Graham’s Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco1.
    Tower of Power has released 31 albums, including 15 studio albums, 5 live albums, and 11 compilations1. Their most recent album, “Step Up”, was released in 20202.

    Here is a list of some of their most popular songs:

    “You’re Still a Young Man”
    “So Very Hard to Go”
    “What Is Hip?”
    “Don’t Change Horses (in the Middle of a Stream)”
    “Soul Vaccination”
    “This Time It’s Real”
    “Time Will Tell”
    “Only So Much Oil in the Ground”

    If you’re interested in listening to their music, you can check out their official website2.

     

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 3

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a musical act or artist poem.

    Believe it or not, today is one of the more important days of the April Poem-A-Day Challenge. While each day is a new challenge, I’ve found that most poets who make it through the first three days of prompts have the best chances of still being here at the end of the month. So let’s write a poem!

    For today’s prompt, pick a musical act or artist and either make that the title of your poem or incorporate into the title of your poem; then, write your poem. Possible titles might be: “Michael Jackson,” “Olivia Rodrigo,” “the Beatles,” “Guided by Voices at Austin City Limits,” “Watching a Movie With Elton John,” or “Eating Ice Cream With Dr. Dre.” Have fun with it!

    Remember: These prompts are springboards to creativity. Use them to expand your possibilities, not limit them.

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Look at the Sky

     

     

    NaPoWrMo Prompt

    the Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    AV version the Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    Death to All Humans

    The Parliament of Animals met one day in a secret undisclosed location as they were under constant surveillance by the human CIA and others who wanted to disrupt the parliament’s work.

    the wise owl presided. He read the charges

     

    “We are assembled here to judge the actions of the human race. the human race is being charged with

    crimes against nature,

    destruction of the environment,

    mass murder,

    enslavement of animals,

    mutilation of animals,

    and violation of Gaia’s basic commandments to preserve the environment for all animals including humans.

    Speaking for the prosecution will be the Tiger and Lions, speaking for the defense with the domestic cats and dogs. We have in the room ten men and women who are representative of the human race.

    The parliament can make any recommendation to remedy the situation including the death penalty, exile, or reparations. All animals will be required to conduct these recommendations.”

    “Okay, Mr. Tiger first we will ask the humans how they plead.” “

     

    Humans. You have been charged with the following crimes.

    crimes against nature,

    destruction of the environment,

    mass murder,

    enslavement of animals,

    mutilation of animals,

    and violation of Gaia’s basic commandments to preserve the environment for all animals including humans.

    How do you plead?

     

    Sam Adams, the lawyer for the humans, responded,

     

    “Not guilty your honor for these charges except for eating animals which we contend is part of the natural order of the world and many if not most of you are guilty of the same charge.”

    “Clarification – your basic argument is that everyone eats animals, so humans are not guilty

    “ “Yes, that is correct, your honor.” “

     

    Okay, Mr. Tiger, you’re opening.” “Okay. The facts are clear. For thousands of years until the Industrial Revolution humans had a little mass impact on the overall environment. Ever since then all animals have been impacted and my species has been hunted to extinction for the greed of humans who have not eaten tiger meat. The predator class, including bears, coyotes, feral dogs, lions, tigers, and wolves have been fighting back against the predation of humans, but we are losing. And if we don’t do anything within 10 years, there won’t be any tigers or other big predators left in the wild. And the natural order of things would be controlled by the evil, selfish humans who don’t give a damn about their fellow creatures. Therefore, we are proposing that 95% of humans must be killed. The remaining humans will be allowed to live as our slaves It is only fair. That is my request to the parliament of animals. Death to humans!”

    The crowd rose and chanted “Death to all humans” until the owl ruled that they must not disrupt the proceedings.

     

    The owl turned to the cat and and dog for their defense. the dog responded, “

     

    Humans and dogs have been partners, and we know humans more than any of you. Humans are capable of great kindness, and compassion and we maintain they are not fundamentally evil. And then they can be redeemed through education and through. Campaign to reform human thought. I think we should give humans a second chance.”

     

    the owl motioned to the dog

    “I concur with Brother Cat. Humans are okay and we like them they are our friends, although they should be found not guilty because of insanity.”

    The owl said he was ready for his verdict.

     

    “Death to 95 percent of humans, and enslavement of the rest, but we will allow 50,000 to immigrate to the Moon and Mars. I will meet with the UN to give them the decree.

    Once that is published all animals must rise up and kill all humans on sight. This suspends the parliament of animals. Death to all humans.” The word went out animals rose all over the world and the reign of human tyranny ended within a year.

     

    AI Version The Parliament of Animals

    In the clandestine chambers of the Parliament of Animals, where shadows danced and secrets whispered, the wise owl presided. Under the ever-watchful gaze of human surveillance, the charges were read aloud:

    “We are assembled here to judge the actions of the human race. The human race stands accused of crimes against nature, destruction of the environment, mass murder, enslavement of animals, mutilation of animals, and violation of Gaia’s sacred commandments. Speaking for the prosecution are the Tigers and Lions; for the defense, the domestic cats and dogs. Ten representatives of humanity sit in this room. The parliament holds the power to recommend remedies: death penalty, exile, or reparations. All animals shall be bound by these decisions.”

    The Tiger, his golden eyes ablaze, addressed the humans, “How do you plead?”

    The humans, their faces etched with defiance, stood before the assembly. Sam Adams, their lawyer, stepped forward, his voice unwavering, “Not guilty, Your Honor. Except for eating animals—a primal act woven into our existence—we maintain our innocence. It is the natural order, and many among you, my fellow creatures, partake in this ancient feast.”

    The room buzzed with tension. The wise owl blinked, feathers rustling. The verdict hung in the air, suspended between judgment and mercy. The fate of humanity rested on the scales of justice, balanced precariously.

    And so, the Parliament of Animals convened, weaving threads of fate, pondering the sins of bipeds, and deciding whether to condemn or absolve. In this surreal courtroom, where the boundaries blurred and the moon bore witness, the world awaited its reckoning.

     

    Last but not least, here’s our prompt for the day – optional, as always. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a surreal prose poem. For inspiration, check out Franz Kafka’s collection of short parables (my favorite is “The Green Dragon”).

    Franz Kafka

    Illustrated byAimee Pong

    An Imperial Message

    Pekin and the Emperor

    The News of the Building of the Wall: A Fragment

    The Great Wall and the Tower of Babel

    The Building of the Temple

    Prometheus

    Poseidon

    The Sirens

    The New Attorney

    The Building of a City

    The Imperial Colonel

    The Green Dragon

    The Tiger

    The Truth About Sancho Panza

    Robinson Crusoe

    My Destination

     

    April 4

    PSH

    Writers Digest

    Writing Com Dew Drop In

    NaPoWriMo

    April 5th

    PSH

    Writers Digest

    Writing Com Dew Drop In

    NaPoWriMo

    PSH The Cosmic Dog from Goa

     

    My final time with God

    Happened a year latter

    I was staying down in Goa

    With my wife

     

    Enjoying being with her

    After our reconciliation

    We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa

    Living like Kings and Queen

     

    Just for a few days

    High up on a hill

    Overlooking the beach

     

    Every morning I went down to the beach

    And did yoga by the water

    While contemplating life

     

    And every morning

    I saw the same dog

     

    Not just a dog

    But a cosmic dog

    Filled with the divine spark of God

     

    And the dog recognized me

    And spoke to me and I knew

    That God was present once more

    In the face of the that cosmic dog

     

    Kindred spirit

    perhaps to the cosmic cat

    that had save my soul

    in Berkeley so long ago

     

    I told the dog everything

    And he just looked at me

    With those soulful eyes of his

    And I knew he knew that I knew

    That he was possessed by God

     

    God had sent him to me

    To make sure that I was on the right path

     

    That the reconciliation that God had promoted

    Was on track that I was back with my wife

    And that everything was the way it should be

     

    Again, I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah

    Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

     

    God the cosmic dog just stared at me

    I finally asked him directly

     

    Say if you are God the God of Jesus

    Bark once

     

    The Dog looked at me and barked

     

    I said well if you are Allah bark twice

    The dog barked twice

     

    Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes

    The god dog barked three times

     

    Hmm well are you Satan

    The dog growled at me

    And I knew I had gone too far

     

    Finally, I was at peace

    And for the next three days

     

    The God Dog was my constant companion

    And I knew God for the final time

    In my life

     

    Writer’s DIgest  Tell Me No Lies

     

    Tell me no lies

    My dear

    and I will tell you

    no lies too.

     

    But every word

    I say

    could be a lie.

     

    you never know

    what is true

    and what is a lie.

     

    So tell me no more lies

    and I will tell you the truth

    if you can handle it.

    April 4

    PSH

    WD

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo

     

    April 5

    PSH

    WD

    WC Dew Drop Inn Make Baseball Great Again!

    NaPoWrMo Only in SF

    It is time

    to make American baseball

    Great again

     

    starting with creating a worldwide

    baseball competition

    with each season

    with the national champions

     

    competing in a World Cup World Series

    with the final round pitting the

    North American Champions

    against the winners of Africa,

    Asian, Europe, and South America

     

    with the final rounds

    best of seven

    always held in the U.S.

     

    The other things to do

    include rapid expansion plans

     

    including the MLB teams

    adopting local schools and colleges

    fully funding baseball programs

    and only hiring college graduates.

    as players.

     

    and making tickets affordable

    no more than ten dollars per game!

     

    if they do this,

    we can make baseball

    once again the best sport

    in the U.S.

     

    Let’s all join together

    to make baseball great again!

    NaPoWrMo Only In SF

     

     

     

     

    Tiny, the Jamaican

    was a  big  6’5 reggae Rasta man,

    sprouting long black and purple dreadlocks

    and a purple mohawk

     

    wearing a black leather jacket

    with weed logos on it,

    played guitar in the SF Reggae Kings.

     

    A big Three Stooges fan,

    Named his four pets,

    “Shemp” the cat,

    “Moe” the dog,

    Curly” the mouse,

    and Curly Joe, the Vietnamese pig.

     

    The four amigos got along famously

    They lived in an apartment

    in the western addiction,

    off of Geary,

    in a rapidly gentrifying part of the city

     

     

    One day, Shemp said to Moe

     

    “Moe, I have a question for you,

    and I want an honest answer,

    none of your canine BS answer.

    You know us cats are straight shooters.”

     

    “Okay,  my cat brother. Shoot.”

     

    “Well, I understand that

    cats, dogs, mice, and pigs

    are natural born enemies,

     

    How come we get along?

    And you get along

    with Curly and Curly Joe?”

     

    “Good question.

     

    “First, when we met

    I hated you all

    and you were afraid

     

    I might eat you in your sleep

    and the thought

    crossed my mind.

     

    But over time

    I mellowed out

    and realized

     

    we were all a band of brothers

    living in this house.

     

    I think it

    also has something to do

    with the cloud of weed

    in the air

     

    and the chill  deep house

    reggae  peace and love

    vibes in the house.”

     

    “cool.

     

    “Good answer.

     

    I too think of you

    all as my brothers.”

     

    “You know what I like the most?”

    Our nightly walk

    when Tiny, Tina, and Linda

    take us out

    and we put on our show.

     

    You know Curly Joe

    letting you ride on him,

    and I ride on you

    and Curly

    sits on my head

     

    to complete the show

    as we freak out the tourists

    good citizens, and outlaws

     

    who constantly take pictures

    saying to themselves

     

    “Only in SF”.

     

    And you know

    They are right.

    Only in SF.

     

    Let’s keep SF weird.”

     

    Tiny came in

    and they all went

    for their walk.

     

     

    April 1

    Ode to Durian

    The infamous durian fruit is a strange phenomenon.
    Common in China, Southeast Asia, and India,
    and in Chinese, Southeast Asian, and Indian diaspora communities,

    It has such a powerful sour smell, that it is banned in airline cabins.

    first ate Durian in a rural town in Central Thailand

    my hasher friends dared me to eat it

    it was horrible at first the smell
    But if you can get beyond
    The awful, dirty socks, rotten, sour smell,
    The taste is pure heaven,
    Proof perhaps that God has a sense of humor?

     

    Sour

     

     

    April 1, 2024: Poetry Writing Prompt from Suzanne Lummis

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Suzanne Lummis:

    Evolve a poem that involves an exotic fruit, one fruit, and a town you’ve never visited, or else have distant memories of.  The poem does not have to be About the fruit. It probably should Not be about the fruit. No one gives a fig about a fruit. But the fruit makes an Appearance. Extra points if it’s a Pomegranate.  No need to mention Persephone, but if you do… It better be something we don’t already know.
    A Mango would also be good.
    No Oranges.
    Nothing personal against them, but that’s another poem. And Gary Soto wrote it.
    Don’t forget about the Town.

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    #napowrimo #poetry

    Writer’s Digest

    Optimistic Laturnae (CC FS)

    life

    more love

    with my wife

    standing by me

    love

     

    The lanturne is a five-line verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one.

     

    March 31 warm Up

     

    Easter Bunny Warning

     

    The Easter Bunny

    Had a warning

    He was tired

    Of being played the fool.

     

    Tired of being associated

    With low-life fake Christians

    Proclaiming that Donald Trump

    Is the next messiah.

     

    The Easter Bunny said,

     

    “Donald Trump

    Ain’t no Christian

    He ain’t no friend of mine.

     

    He is the antichrist

    The poster child

    For the seven deadly sins”.

     

    Donald Trump denounced

    The Easter Bunny.

     

    Saying on Truth Social,

     

    “The Easter Bunny is nothing

    But a  low-life wanna-be thug,

    A real loser!

    An anti-fa, anti-American, BLM, communist, fascist

    Radical left-wing Marxist vermin thug,

    Part of the woke crowd,

    That is ruining our once-great country.

    That needs a Second Amendment remedy.

     

     

     

    April 1—Be a fool in a poem!

     

    Sarangpabo – Korean Love Fool for You

    When I first saw you

    In my dreams.

     

    You were the most beautiful woman

    In the world to me

    And still are.

     

    When you looked at me

    With love blazing

    From your dark brown

    Goo-goo eyes.

     

    sparks flew from heart to heart

    (이심초심ishimchomshim)

     

    You hynotized, messemeried me

    Your love mojo working overtime

    Turning me into nothing but

    A 사랑 바보Sarang pabo (love fool).

     

    Eight years later

    You walked off that bus

    Into my life,

     

    Becoming

    my wife,

    My soul mate.

     

    And yes,

    I am still

    your 사랑 바보Sarang pabo.

     

    And will remain under

    Your love spell

    Until the day I die.

     

    Translation into Korean (rough AI Version)

     

    Certainly! Here’s the English text followed by the Hangul and Romanized script line by line:

    English:

    When I first saw you

    In my dreams.

     

    You were the most beautiful woman

    In the world to me

    And still are.

     

    When you looked at me

    With love blazing

    From your dark brown

    Goo-goo eyes.

     

    Sparks flew from heart to heart

    (이심초심 ishimchomshim)

     

    You hypnotized, mesmerized me

    Your love mojo working overtime

    Turning me into nothing but

    A 사랑 바보 Sarang pabo (love fool).

     

    Eight years later

    You walked off that bus

    Into my life,

     

    Becoming

    My wife,

    My soul mate.

     

    And yes,

    I am still

    Your 사랑 바보 Sarang pabo.

     

    And will remain under

    Your love spell

    Until the day I die.

    Hangul:

    처음 너를 보았을 때

    꿈 속에서.

     

    넌 세상에서 가장 아름다운 여자였어

    내게

    그리고 지금도 그런 너.

     

    네가 나를 보며

    사랑이 눈부시게

    네 어두운 갈색 눈에서

    불타오르는 모습.

     

    마음에서 마음으로 불꽃이 튀었어

    (이심초심 ishimchomshim)

     

    넌 나를 최면에 걸었고, 날 사로잡았어

    네 사랑의 마법이 야근을 하며

    나를 사랑 바보로 만들었어.

     

    8년 뒤

    넌 그 버스에서 내게 다가왔어

    내 삶 속으로,

     

    내 아내가 되며,

    내 영혼의 동반자가 되었어.

     

    그리고 맞아,

    나는 여전히

    네 사랑 바보야.

     

    네 사랑 주문 아래에

    내가 죽을 때까지.

    Romanized Script:

    Cheoeum neoreul boasseul ttae

    Kkum sogeseo.

     

    Neon sesangeseo gajang areumdaun yeoja-eosseo

    Naege

    Geurigo jigeumdo geureon neo.

     

    Nega nareul bomyeo

    Salangi nunbusige

    Ne eoduun galssaek nun-eseo

    Bultao-reuneun moseup.

     

    Ma-eumeseo ma-eum-euro bulkkoch-i twieosseosseo

    (이심초심 ishimchomshim)

     

    Neon nareul choemyeon-e geol-eoss-eo, nal salojab-ass-eo

    Ne salang-ui mabeob-i yageun-eul hamyeo

    Naleul salang babo-lo mandeul-eoss-eo.

     

    8nyeon dwi

    Neon geu beoseueseo naege dag-awass-eo

    Nae salm sog-eulo,

     

    Nae anae-ga doemyeon,

    Nae yeonghon-ui dongbanja-ga doeeoss-eo.

     

    Geuligo maj-a,

    Naneun yeojeonhi

    Ne salang babo-ya.

     

    Ne salang jumun alae-e

    Naega jugeul ttaekkaji.

     

     

    April 2 Prompt

    PSH The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

    WD Sad and happy days

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo  Springtime Flowers Blooming Love

     

    PSH prompt The Words of the Year 1955 1955 Words

     

    Title: The Words of the Year 1955 PSH

     

    According to

    Meriam Webster’s new tool

    Time Traveler by Merriam-Webster: Words from 1955

     

    1955 my birth year

    Started with many words

     

     

    Some of the prompt words that struck

    My fancy include the following

     

    Oddly we are still talking

    About many of these words

    In 2024

     

    There are hidden agendas

    All around us

     

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by D.L. Lang:

    Use the Merriam-Webster website’s time travel feature, pick a year, and use those words in a poem.

    1955

     

     

    PSH

    WD Sad and happy days

     

    NaPoWrMo

    WC Dew Drop In

     

    Sad and happy days

     

    every day I wake up

    at dawn

    and drink a cup

    of snarling hot  coffee.

     

    writing my daily poems

    including this one

    and my journals.

     

    while half listening

    to the idiots on TV

    blathering on and on.

     

    when I pay attention

    to their drivel,

     

    I became increasingly sad,.

    even mad,

    and feel real bad

     

    I turn off the boob tube.

    turn off the news.

    and play me some old-school blues.

     

    when my wife walks into the room

    with love blazing from her eyes,

    she chases away the lingering blues.

     

    and I feel my happiness

    returning to me.

     

    and know as long

    as we have other

    everything will be Jake

     

    and I will be at peace

    with my world.

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 2

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, we have our first two-for-Tuesday prompt.

    For today’s prompt, we have our first two-for-Tuesday prompt, which means you get two prompts. You can write to one of the prompts, both the prompts separately, or try to write a poem that works with both prompts at the same time. The prompts are:

    Write a happy poem, and/or…

    Write a sad poem.

    Two sides of the same emotional coin.

    NaPoWrMo

     

    It Can’t Happen Here

    was a prescient look

    at the rise of Christian Fascism

    in the United States

     

    Set in the later 1930s

    It looked at the rise

     

    of a Christain Fascist dictator

    modeled after Charles Lindbergh

    and his American First movement

     

    who with the support

    of the American Bund

     

    and other pro-fascist forces

    mounted a spirited third-party

    effort to become President

    amid the suffering of the Great Depression

    promising to keep us out of the war

     

    and ally with the fascists in Europe

    against the evil communist

    Godless menace of Stalin.

     

    “American Fascism came

    wrapped in the flag

    and carrying a Christian flag”

     

    Although it was not successful

    it probably kept us out of World War 11

    longer than we should have

     

    there are so many parallels

    to modern Trump and post Trumpian

    MAGA movement

     

    which is a modern alt. right

    explicit Christian Fascist movement

    that openly admires

     

    the right-wing autocrats

    in Hungary, Türkiye

    and Putin’s Russia

     

    hoping to turn the U.S.

    into a Christian Fascist one-party state

    run by Donald Trump

    and his acolytes

     

    with millions rounded up

    subject to deportation

    with dissent outlaw

    the deep state tamed

     

    the media sold off

    to regime supporters

    and the late-night TV comics

    defanged

     

    No more Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimble

    John Stewart and SNL

    replaced by right-wing comic hacks

    shilling for the great leader

     

    while the book did not happen

    and Philips Roth’s Plot Against America

     

    the warning that it could happen here

    is more relevant than ever

    as Trump and Biden are in a dead heat

     

    I am optimistic that Trump will not prevail

    this time around

    but I worry about all the potential Trump

    wanna be politicians out there

     

    who promise to Make America Great Again

    by returning to the 1890’s

    when they claim the U.S. went down

    the wrong path

     

    when white men ruled the world

    minorities knew their place

    Women were second-class citizens

    the LGBTQ community in the closet

    their very existence illegal

     

    with a twist

    Christian Fascism

    the new ruling ideology

    underpinning the latest

    illiberal democracy

    Posted on Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com

     

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn

     

    Springtime Flowers Blooming Love

     

    Springtime in Korea

    walking down the world peace forest

    near the international airport in Incheon

    with the love of my life by my side.

     

    Enjoying the Flowering Trees

    The snowing apple trees, cherry blossoms

    pear blossoms. the purple azaleas, the anemone,

    the buttercups, the daffodils, the magnolia,

    the  scotch bloom, the tulips,

    the wildflowers in the field.

     

    the fragrance of love in the air

    Life is great.

     

     

    April 3 Poems

     

    PSH 1

    Berkelely Mad Pyscotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

    PSH 2 AI Version traditional Sonnet

    WD  My Musical Street

    WC Dew Drop Inn

    NaPoWrMo

     

    Berkelely Mad Pyscotic Pineapple Burns Sonnet

     

    the Berkeley mad pyscotic pineapple.

    was an underground Berkeley icon.

    the pineapple said, “Bad Luck comes in Three.”

    last night he smoked a joint and went for a walk.

    the pineapple dude encountered a cat,

    not just a cat but a cosmic black cat.

    and the cat was riding on a dog,

    and a mouse was riding on the cat,

    the pineapple was amused to see this,

    I told him only in the SF Bay area,

    thinking back to when I was eight.

    and wished I had a cosmic cat.

    I would have made such a cacophony.

    the cosmic cat was still my secret friend.

     

    The Burns Sonnet is a Shakespearian sonnet but it does not follow traditional meter or rhyme

     

    Please convert the previous text into a traditional sonnet using most of these words in line 13 must use the word cacophony and follow the following criterion

    1 inner life of pineapple

    2 berkeley fate

    3 bad luck comes in three

    4last night went for a walk

    5-8 line five to eight two animals meet someone unusual

    9 10 wish for the pineapple

    11 12 what did I wish for when your eight

    13-14  hullabaloo, ragamuffin, hooferaw, scoundreles cacophony and discuss a secret something is hidden or something no one else knows

     

    AI Version

     

    AI version Title: “The Cosmic Cat”

    The Berkeley mad, psychotic pineapple,

    An underground icon in the streets of Berkeley,

    Whispered, “Bad Luck comes in Three,” so cynical,

    Last night, he wandered, joints ablaze, unwary.

    Encountering a cat, not mere feline grace,

    But cosmic blackness riding on a dog,

    A mouse perched high, a curious embrace,

    In SF Bay’s odd realm, where dreams may jog.

    Oh, how I wished when I was merely eight,

    For a cosmic cat, a secret friend concealed,

    To stir a hullabaloo, a wild debate,

    A ragamuffin dance, a truth revealed.

    In hooferaw and scoundrel’s cacophony,

    The pineapple’s fate intertwined with glee. 🍍🌌

     

     

    Writer’s Digest Our Musical Street

     

    30 lines

    I grew up
    In a very creative time
    a very musical time.

    The 60’s had the best music
    Motown ruled the Bay Area
    As well as Great rock music

    Acid jazz
    Acid Rock
    Fusion Jazz
    The Grateful Dead
    Mamas and the Papas
    Jefferson Airplane
    Jimmy Hendrix
    last high school
    was Berkeley High School
    Santana

    And so many others

    The best funk band
    Of them all

    Tower of Power
    Beloved by all
    High school students.

    For their immortal classic
    Make out song
    You’re still a Young Man.

    wonder how many people

    fell in love slow dancing

    to this song

     

    how many babies

    were conceived?

    Tower of Power rocked
    Every party in town
    On every street.

    Music flowed.
    On every musical street
    In the city.

    That was Berkeley
    In the 60’s and 70’s.

    Please use the following as the Title of your story or poem:

    “Our Musical Street”

    Please select “Music” as one of your genres.

    Tower of Power is an American R&B and funk-based band and horn section, originating in Oakland, California, that has been performing since 1968. The band has had several lead vocalists, the best known being Lenny Williams, who fronted the band between early 1973 and late 1974, the period of their greatest commercial success1. They have had eight songs on the Billboard Hot 100; their highest-charting songs include “You’re Still a Young Man”, “So Very Hard to Go”, “What Is Hip?”, and “Don’t Change Horses (in the Middle of a Stream)”1.

    The band was formed by tenor saxophonist/vocalist Emilio Castillo and baritone saxophonist Stephen “Doc” Kupka in 19681. The band’s soul sound appealed to both minority and counterculture listeners1. The band’s name was changed to Tower of Power after they agreed that their original name, The Mots, would not help them play at Bill Graham’s Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco1.
    Tower of Power has released 31 albums, including 15 studio albums, 5 live albums, and 11 compilations1. Their most recent album, “Step Up”, was released in 20202.

    Here is a list of some of their most popular songs:

    “You’re Still a Young Man”
    “So Very Hard to Go”
    “What Is Hip?”
    “Don’t Change Horses (in the Middle of a Stream)”
    “Soul Vaccination”
    “This Time It’s Real”
    “Time Will Tell”
    “Only So Much Oil in the Ground”

    If you’re interested in listening to their music, you can check out their official website2.

     

    Bump City

    From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
    Bump City
    Studio album by

    Released May 1972
    Recorded 1971-1972
    Studio Trans Maximus Inc. Recording Studios, Memphis, Tennessee
    Genre Soulfunk
    Length 35:52
    Label Warner Bros. Records
    Producer Ron Capone, Tower of Power
    Tower of Power chronology
    East Bay Grease
    (1970)
    Bump City
    (1972)
    Tower of Power
    (1973)

    Bump City is the second album by the soul/funk group Tower of Power. The album cover is derived from a sketch by David Garibaldi.[citation needed] It’s also their first album for Warner Bros. Records. With Rufus Miller now gone, Rick Stevens took the reins as the sole lead vocalist for this album.

    Professional ratings
    Review scores
    Source Rating
    Allmusic  [1]
    Christgau’s Record Guide C[2]

    Track listing[edit]

    All songs written by Emilio Castillo and Stephen “Doc” Kupka unless otherwise noted.

    1. “You Got to Funkifize” – 4:31
    2. “What Happened to the World That Day?” – 4:11
    3. “Flash in the Pan” – 3:34
    4. “Gone (in Memory of Jacqueline Mesquite)” (Greg Adams, Skip Mesquite) – 3:41
    5. “You Strike My Main Nerve” (Kupka, Castillo, L. Williams, L. Gordon) – 2:52
    6. “Down to the Nightclub” (Kupka, Castillo, David Garibaldi) – 2:43
    7. “You’re Still a Young Man” – 5:35
    8. “Skating on Thin Ice” – 3:48
    9. “Of the Earth” – 4:30

    Personnel[edit]

    • Rick Stevens – lead vocals
    • Skip Mesquite – first tenor saxophone, flute, vocals (lead on “Gone”)
    • Emilio Castillo – second tenor saxophone, vocals
    • Greg Adams – trumpet, flugelhorn (solo on “Gone”), French horn, piano (on “Gone”), vocals[3]
    • Stephen “Doc” Kupka – baritone saxophone, vocals
    • Mic Gillette – trumpet, trombone, French horn, vocals
    • Willie James Fulton – guitar, vocals
    • David Garibaldi – drums
    • Francis Rocco Prestia – bass
    • Brent Byars – conga drums, vocals
    • Jay Spell – piano (on “What Happened to the World That Day”, “You’re Still a Young Man” and “Of the Earth”)
    • Memphis Strings – arranged and conducted by Greg Adams on “What Happened to the World That Day?”, “You’re Still a Young Man” and “Of the Earth”
    Technical

    Charts[edit]

    Albums – Billboard (United States) [4]

    Year Chart Position
    1972 The Billboard 200 85
    1972 R&B Albums 16

    Singles – Billboard (United States) [5][6]

    Year Single Chart Position
    1972 “You’re Still A Young Man” The Billboard Hot 100 29
    1972 “You’re Still A Young Man” R&B Singles 24
    1972 “Down To The Nightclub” The Billboard Hot 100 66

     

    2024 April PAD Challenge: Day 3

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a musical act or artist poem.

    Believe it or not, today is one of the more important days of the April Poem-A-Day Challenge. While each day is a new challenge, I’ve found that most poets who make it through the first three days of prompts have the best chances of still being here at the end of the month. So let’s write a poem!

    For today’s prompt, pick a musical act or artist and either make that the title of your poem or incorporate into the title of your poem; then, write your poem. Possible titles might be: “Michael Jackson,” “Olivia Rodrigo,” “the Beatles,” “Guided by Voices at Austin City Limits,” “Watching a Movie With Elton John,” or “Eating Ice Cream With Dr. Dre.” Have fun with it!

    Remember: These prompts are springboards to creativity. Use them to expand your possibilities, not limit them.

    NaPoWrMo Prompt

    the Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    AV version the Parliament of Owls Decree Death to All Humans

    Death to All Humans

    The Parliament of Animals met one day in a secret undisclosed location as they were under constant surveillance by the human CIA and others who wanted to disrupt the parliament’s work.

    the wise owl presided. He read the charges

    “We are assembled here to judge the actions of the human race. the human race is being charged with

    crimes against nature,

    destruction of the environment,

    mass murder,

    enslavement of animals,

    mutilation of animals,

    and violation of Gaia’s basic commandments to preserve the environment for all animals including humans.

    Speaking for the prosecution will be the Tiger and Lions, speaking for the defense with the domestic cats and dogs. We have in the room ten men and women who are representative of the human race.

    The parliament can make any recommendation to remedy the situation including the death penalty, exile, or reparations. All animals will be required to conduct these recommendations.”

    “Okay, Mr. Tiger first we will ask the humans how they plead.” “

    Humans. You have been charged with the following crimes.

     

    crimes against nature,

    destruction of the environment,

    mass murder,

    enslavement of animals,

    mutilation of animals,

    and violation of Gaia’s basic commandments to preserve the environment for all animals including humans.

    How do you plead?

     

    Sam Adams, the lawyer for the humans, responded,

    “Not guilty your honor for these charges except for eating animals which we contend is part of the natural order of the world and many if not most of you are guilty of the same charge.”

    “Clarification – your basic argument is that everyone eats animals, so humans are not guilty

    “ “Yes, that is correct, your honor.” “

    Okay, Mr. Tiger, your opening.”

    “Okay. The facts are clear. For thousands of years until the Industrial Revolution humans had a little mass impact on the overall environment. Ever since then all animals have been impacted and my species has been hunted to extinction for the greed of humans who have not eaten tiger meat. The predator class, including bears, coyotes, feral dogs, lions, tigers, and wolves have been fighting back against the predation of humans, but we are losing. And if we don’t do anything within 10 years, there won’t be any tigers or other big predators left in the wild. And the natural order of things would be controlled by the evil, selfish humans who don’t give a damn about their fellow creatures. Therefore, we are proposing that 95% of humans must be killed. The remaining humans will be allowed to live as our slaves It is only fair. That is my request to the parliament of animals. Death to humans!”

    The crowd rose and chanted “Death to all humans” until the owl ruled that they must not disrupt the proceedings.

    The owl turned to the cat and and dog for their defense. the  Cat responded, “

    “ Humans are okay and we like them they are our friends, although they should be found not guilty because of insanity.”

    the owl motioned to the dog, who responded,

    “Humans and dogs have been partners, and we know humans more than any of you. Humans are capable of great kindness, and compassion and we maintain they are not fundamentally evil. And then they can be redeemed through education and through. Campaign to reform human thought. I think we should give humans a second chance.”

    The owl said he was ready for his verdict.

    “Death to 95 percent of humans, and enslavement of the rest, but we will allow 50,000 to immigrate to the Moon and Mars. I will meet with the UN to give them the decree.

    Once that is published all animals must rise up and kill all humans on sight. This suspends the parliament of animals. Death to all humans.” The word went out animals rose all over the world and the reign of human tyranny ended within a year.

    AI Version The Parliament of Animals

    In the clandestine chambers of the Parliament of Animals, where shadows danced and secrets whispered, the wise owl presided. Under the ever-watchful gaze of human surveillance, the charges were read aloud:

    “We are assembled here to judge the actions of the human race. The human race stands accused of crimes against nature, destruction of the environment, mass murder, enslavement of animals, mutilation of animals, and violation of Gaia’s sacred commandments. Speaking for the prosecution are the Tigers and Lions; for the defense, the domestic cats and dogs. Ten representatives of humanity sit in this room. The parliament holds the power to recommend remedies: death penalty, exile, or reparations. All animals shall be bound by these decisions.”

    The Tiger, his golden eyes ablaze, addressed the humans, “How do you plead?”

    The humans, their faces etched with defiance, stood before the assembly. Sam Adams, their lawyer, stepped forward, his voice unwavering, “Not guilty, Your Honor. Except for eating animals—a primal act woven into our existence—we maintain our innocence. It is the natural order, and many among you, my fellow creatures, partake in this ancient feast.”

    The room buzzed with tension. The wise owl blinked, feathers rustling. The verdict hung in the air, suspended between judgment and mercy. The fate of humanity rested on the scales of justice, balanced precariously.

    And so, the Parliament of Animals convened, weaving threads of fate, pondering the sins of bipeds, and deciding whether to condemn or absolve. In this surreal courtroom, where the boundaries blurred and the moon bore witness, the world awaited its reckoning.

    Last but not least, here’s our prompt for the day – optional, as always. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a surreal prose poem. For inspiration, check out Franz Kafka’s collection of short parables (my favorite is “The Green Dragon”).

    Franz Kafka

    Illustrated byAimee Pong

    An Imperial Message

    Pekin and the Emperor

    The News of the Building of the Wall: A Fragment

    The Great Wall and the Tower of Babel

    The Building of the Temple

    Prometheus

    Poseidon

    The Sirens

    The New Attorney

    The Building of a City

    The Imperial Colonel

    The Green Dragon

    The Tiger

    The Truth About Sancho Panza

    Robinson Crusoe

    My Destination

     

    April 3—Look at the sky!

    One day the world woke up

    To the impending end

    As a new asteroid.

     

    Quickly dubbed

    The doomsday asteroid

    Headed to Earth.

     

    Everyone looked up

    At the doomsday asteroid

    As the world scrambled

    To send space missiles

    To blow it away.

     

    Brazilians, Chinese, the EU, Koreans, Japanese, Iraqis,

    Iranians UAE, Israel,. Indians, Pakistanis,  Russians,  Saudis,

    South Africans, Russians, and Ukrainians.

     

    50 nations all joined the IPDF.

    Including to everyone’s surprise

    The elusive enigmatic North Koreans.

     

    All join together under a newly formed.

    International Planetary Defense Force

    Under the auspices of the UN.

     

    NASA provided the executive leadership

    The others all provided parts of the ship,

    The software, hardware, and nuclear bombs.

     

    The ship would be unmanned

    And was launched worldwide

    Interest as everyone watched

    Hoping for the best.

     

    The bombs worked

    The asteroid was blown away

    With only some minor  damage

     

    The IPDF vowed to remain ever-vigilant

    And fully funded, with a new mission.

     

    Setting up permanent space colonies

    In space stations, the moon, Mars,

    The moons of Jupiter and Saturn.

     

    Vowing to have them set up by 2030!

    Using the latest AI-generated research.

     

    The goal to have over 50,000 people

    Living and working off the planet.

     

    One of the rare international ventures

    That survived the new multi-power

    Global great power conflicts.

     

    April 4

     PSH  Love Expressed Through Food

     

    WD  Mistake Poem – Don’t Make a Mistake, Vote For Jake

    WC Dew Drop In Ending Shaving in Retirement

    NaPoWriMo

    It Can’t Happen Here

    PSH Love Expressed Through Food

     

     

     

     

     

    My love loves to cook

    Delicious food on the stove

    Cooking up a storm

    All to express her love for me

    Showing her deep emotion

    Though the food she cooks up

     

    We met in a dream

    And I recall that dream

    Whenever I eat her delicious food

     

    It was love at first sight

    Our love deepend through her food

    Looking at her with lust in my heart

    As I taste every inch of her

    Smelling her as we make love

     

     

    Love                                               Stove

    emotion                                         cook

    dreams                                           food 

    attraction                                        eat  

    Lust                                                 taste

    sex                                                Smell

     

    Writing Prompt from Jon Wesick

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Jon Wesick:

    The Assembly Line of Surprise

    Step 1 – Choose a subject to write about. This should probably be something about being human such as a mental state, emotion, or social issue. Often this is abstract.

    Love

    Step 2 – Choose an object to compare it to. It’s best if this is something very different than in step 1. Concrete things like machinery give good imagery. The more outrageous the better. Congratulations! You’ve just created a metaphor.

    Stove

    Step 3 – Make two columns on a piece of paper. List the parts of the subject step 1 in the first column and the parts of the item in step 2 in the second.

    Love                                               Stove

    emotion                                         cook

    dreams                                           food 

    attraction                                        eat  

    Lust                                                 taste

    sex                                                Smell

     

    Step 4 – Map items in each column to those in the other. Choose the most interesting mappings. These will be phrases in your poem.

    Step 5 – Put these phrases together into a poem.

    Let’s “cook up” an example. Steps 1 and 2 – Compare despair to a microwave oven

    Step 3 – Table.

    Despair Microwave Oven
    Fatigue Klystron
    Sleeplessness Turntable
    Irritability Browning dish
    Emptiness Observation window
    Loss of libido Control panel
    Gloom Timer
    Despondency Defrost function
    Hopelessness Auto cook menu
    Futility Number pad
    Start/stop button
    Tomato sauce caked on walls
    Sparking when tin foil inside

    Step 4 – I’d map sleeplessness to dried tomato sauce, irritability to sparking, and libido to the defrost function.

    Step 5 – Put mapping into a poem.

    Writers DIgest Mistake Poem “Don’t Make a Mistake Vote for Jake”

     

    I should have run for office

    I would have a perfect slogn

     

    Rifting on the word mistake

    Rhyming it with my name Jake.

    In a old “Burma shave style

    Cowboy poetry poem..

     

    Don’t make a mistake

    Vote for Jake

     

    He is so awake

    Don’t brake

    Don’t use your emergency brake

    Everything’s Jake. ‘

    Just  Vote for Jake

     

    He ain’t no fake

    He’s no flake

    He ain’t on the make

    Just vote for Jake

     

    He’s aint no rake

    He ain’t no rattle snake

    He ain’t no common snake

    He ain’t on the take.

    Just vote for Jake

     

    Take a tea break.

    Don’t have a cluster headache,

    Don’t have a sinus headache.

    Just vote for Jake

     

    Make a political earthquake

    Don’t Shake

    Take a stake.

    Just Vote for Jake.

     

    For today’s prompt, write a mistake poem. Everyone makes mistakes. Yes, even that person standing in the corner shaking their head to the contrary. And even those people who don’t admit to making mistakes have seen others make them. So whether it’s the mistakes you’ve made, witnessed in others, etc., write a poem about it today.

    BUT (and yes, I’m using a big “but” here) poem nicely to each other today. I would hate to remove anyone for getting into arguments about X, Y, or Z in the comments; that’s why social media was created.

    Note:  Burma Shave ads were everywhere from 1910 to the late 70s.  Here’s Bing Co-Pilot on “Burma Shave” and Cowboy poetry.

    Burma-Shave was an American brand of brushless shaving cream, famous for its quirky and memorable advertising campaign. From the 1920s to the early 1960s, they posted humorous rhyming poems on sequential highway roadside signs. These signs became iconic and are fondly remembered by many.

    Here are a few classic Burma-Shave jingles that adorned the highways:

    1. “Cattle crossing means go slow, that old bull is some cows’ bold.”
    2. “The bearded lady tried to jump, she’s now a famous movie star.”
    3. “Shaving brushes out of date, use the razors perfect mate.”
    4. “The crowd you see around that store are Burma shavers buying more.”
    5. “PHA likes the cream, ma likes the jar, both like the price, so there you are.”12

    These clever and whimsical signs were typically posted in sets of six along highways, with the last sign revealing the product name. Passing motorists would eagerly read each sign to discover the punchline. The signs were originally produced in red-and-white or orange-and-black color combinations, although the latter was eventually phased out. While the Interstate system and increased vehicle speeds led to the signs’ discontinuation, their legacy lives on as a nostalgic piece of American advertising history. Some of these signs can still be seen at The House on the Rock in Spring Green, Wisconsin, and re-creations appear on Arizona State Highway 66, part of the original U.S. Route 66, between Ash Fork and Kingman, Arizona 34. 🚗🌟

    Burma-Shave was an American brand of brushless shaving cream, famous for its quirky and memorable advertising campaign. From the 1920s to the early 1960s, they posted humorous rhyming poems on sequential highway roadside signs. These signs became iconic and are fondly remembered by many.

     

    Cowboy poetry is a unique genre that celebrates the rugged lifestyle, camaraderie, and natural beauty of the American West. These poems often evoke nostalgia, humor, and a deep connection to the land. Let me share a few classic cowboy poems with you:

    1. “Tying Knots in the Devil’s Tail” by Gail I. Gardner:
    2. “A Prairie Song” (Anonymous):
    3. “The Strawberry Roan” by Curley Fletcher:
    4. “The Old Frying Pan” by James W. Whilt:
    5. “The Camp-fire Has Gone Out” (Anonymous):

    These cowboy poems capture the essence of life on the range, the bond between rider and horse, and the fading traditions of the American West. 🤠🌵

     

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Ending Daily Shaving in Retirement

    When Sam Adams

    retired from

    the U.S. Department of State,

     

    he made five vows

    which he kept for years.

     

    first, he would quit daily shaving

    shaving once or twice a month

     

    second, he would never wear

    a suit and tie

    instead opting for the northwest look

     

    Long pants, khaki or jeans, T-shirt

    and a Western-style shirt

    like a Pendleton shirt.

     

    Third, he would retire in Korea

    where his wife had family

    and Southern Oregon

    and an annual trip to DC

    where they had rentals.

     

    Fourth, they would travel

    a lot every year

    seeing as much as the world

    as they could while they could still do.

     

    starting with an epic road trip

    across the US

    10,000 miles 35 states

    in three months

     

    and a cruise to Alaska

    his last State of 50 to visit

    and an annual visit to someplace

    warm in the winter.

     

    Fifth, he would start a blog and podcast.

    the World According to Cosmos,

    to highlight his poetry and short story

    submissions and occasional political rants.

     

    He kept his vows

    except that COVID blew away

    his travel plans from 2019 to 2022!

    and he wore a suit once,

    to attend the wedding of the son

    of his best Korean friend.

     

     

    April 5

     PSH Cosmic Dog From Goa

    WD Tell Me No Lies

     WC Dew Drop Inn Making Baseball Great Again

    NaPoWriMo  Only In SF

     

    PSH The Cosmic Dog from Goa

    cute dog
    cute dog

     

     

     

     

     

    My final time with God

    Happened a year latter

    I was staying down in Goa

    With my wife

     

    Enjoying being with her

    After our reconciliation

    We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa

    Living like Kings and Queen

     

    Just for a few days

    High up on a hill

    Overlooking the beach

     

    Every morning I went down to the beach

    And did yoga by the water

    While contemplating life

     

    And every morning

    I saw the same dog

     

    Not just a dog

    But a cosmic dog

    Filled with the divine spark of God

     

    And the dog recognized me

    And spoke to me and I knew

    That God was present once more

    In the face of the that cosmic dog

     

    Kindred spirit

    perhaps to the cosmic cat

    that had save my soul

    in Berkeley so long ago

     

    I told the dog everything

    And he just looked at me

    With those soulful eyes of his

    And I knew he knew that I knew

    That he was possessed by God

     

    God had sent him to me

    To make sure that I was on the right path

     

    That the reconciliation that God had promoted

    Was on track that I was back with my wife

    And that everything was the way it should be

     

    Again, I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah

    Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

     

    God the cosmic dog just stared at me

    I finally asked him directly

     

    Say if you are God the God of Jesus

    Bark once

     

    The Dog looked at me and barked

     

    I said well if you are Allah bark twice

    The dog barked twice

     

    Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes

    The god dog barked three times

     

    Hmm well are you Satan

    The dog growled at me

    And I knew I had gone too far

     

    Finally, I was at peace

    And for the next three days

     

    The God Dog was my constant companion

    And I knew God for the final time

    In my life

     

    Writer’s Digest Tell Me No LIes

     

    Tell me no lies

    My dear

    and I will tell you

    no lies too.

     

    But every word

    I say

    could be a lie.

     

    you never know

    what is true

    and what is a lie.

     

    So tell me no more lies

    and I will tell you the truth

    if you can handle it.

     

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn April 5—Get a sport into a poem!  Make Baseball Great Again!

     

    It is time

    to make American baseball

    Great again

     

    starting with creating a worldwide

    baseball competition

    with each season

    with the national champions

     

    competing in a World Cup World Series

    with the final round pitting the

    North American Champions

    against the winners of Africa,

    Asian, Europe, and South America

     

    with the final rounds

    best of seven

    always held in the U.S.

     

    The other things to do

    include rapid expansion plans

     

    including the MLB teams

    adopting local schools and colleges

    fully funding baseball programs

    and only hiring college graduates.

    as players.

     

    and making tickets affordable

    no more than ten dollars per game!

     

    if they do this,

    we can make baseball

    once again the best sport

    in the U.S.

     

    Let’s all join together

    to make baseball great again!

    NaPoWrMo  Only In SF

    Tiny, the Jamaican

    was a  big  6’5 reggae Rasta man,

    sprouting long black and purple dreadlocks

    and a purple mohawk

     

    wearing a black leather jacket

    with weed logos on it,

    played guitar in the SF Reggae Kings.

     

    A big Three Stooges fan,

    Named his four pets,

    “Shemp” the cat,

    “Moe” the dog,

    Curly” the mouse,

    and Curly Joe, the Vietnamese pig.

     

    The four amigos got along famously

    They lived in an apartment

    in the western addiction,

    off of Geary,

    in a rapidly gentrifying part of the city

     

    One day, Shemp said to Moe

    “Moe, I have a question for you,

    and I want an honest answer,

    none of your canine BS answer.

    You know us cats are straight shooters.”

    “Okay,  my cat brother. Shoot.”

    “Well, I understand that

    cats, dogs, mice, and pigs

    are natural born enemies,

    How come we get along?

    And you get along

    with Curly and Curly Joe?”

    “Good question.

    First, when we met

    I hated you all

    and you were afraid

    I might eat you in your sleep

    and the thought

    crossed my mind.

    But over time

    I mellowed out

    and realized

    we were all a band of brothers

    living in this house.

    I think it

    also has something to do

    with the cloud of weed

    in the air

    and the chill  deep house

    reggae  peace and love

    vibes in the house.”

    “cool.

    “Good answer.

    I too think of you

    all as my brothers.

     

    You know what I like the most?”

    Our nightly walk

    when Tiny, Tina, and Linda

    take us out

    and we put on our show.

    You know Curly Joe

    letting you ride on him,

    and I ride on you

    and Curly

    sits on my head

    to complete the show

    as we freak out the tourists

    good citizens, and outlaws

    who constantly take pictures

    saying to themselves

    “Only in SF”.

     

    And you know

    They are right.

    Only in SF.

     

    Let’s keep SF weird.”

     

    Tiny came in

    and they all went

    for their walk.

    April 6

    PSH  Visiting My Father’s Grave

    Writers DIgest Meeting My Fate

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn  Daily RItual Drinks

    NaPoWrMo PNRCP

     

    Visiting my father’s grave

    In Yakima Washington State,

    The ancestral land of the Aller clan

    Thinking about my father

    And his legacy

    And thinking that I am

    My father’s son

     

    There is so much

    I wanted to tell him

    So much I wanted to share

     

    So much I wanted him to see

    My accomplishments

    He was taken from me

    Before I had achieved my dreams

     

    i am sure he would have been

    proud of the man

    I turned out to be.

     

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Lara Dolphin:

    A “taphophile” is someone who has more than a passing interest in burial places.

    Cemeteries can hold beautiful sculptures, moving epitaphs, and genealogical secrets as well as religious meaning. If you were a tombstone tourist and could visit any burial place or shrine in the world, where would it be? Who would it belong to? Someone famous or obscure? Write a poem about one grave in particular.

    Writer’s DIgest Meeting My Fate Minimal Poem

     

    that september date

    I met my fate

    when she walked

    out of my dreams

    off a bus

    into my life

    becoming my wife.

    For today’s prompt, write a minimum poem. Some people only do the minimum; others like to pay the minimum. When I first started working, I earned minimum wage. My kids had to reach a minimum height requirement to ride roller coasters at amusement parks. 

    Writing Com Dw Drop In Daily  Beverages

    in the morning

    I drink a cup

    of snarling hot coffee

    while watching the news

     

    in the afternoon

    I shift to tea

    either earl gray

    or herbal tea

     

    at sunset

    I drink red wine

    with my wife

     

    as the evening

    shifts into night

     

    I drink rum

    or whiskey

     

    to end the day

    right.

    NaPoWrMo PNRCP

     

    My mother was an original

    One of a kind person

    Unique in her ways.

     

    She had many sayings

    That has stuck with me

    Over the years.

     

    She was not a big fan

    Of birthdays

    Even forgot my 18th birthday.

     

    She said on her birthday

     

    “Well that means

    One year closer to the grave.”

     

    One of her funiest saying

    Was how she described

    Getting to Berkeley

    In the late 30’s.

     

    She had ran away

    From a large but abusive family

    In Little Rock, Arkansas.

     

    Part of the so-called “lost tribe”

    Of the Cherokee Indians

    Also known as the Black Irish

     

    She said that she was just

    Part of the government run

    “Plantetary Nut  Reconfigeration Program”.

     

    Every ten years

    The world flips

    And all the nuts

    Roll down here

    And end up in California.

     

    Here’s some info on the Lost Tribe of the Cherokees. There are only about 50,000 left.  According to Bing Co-Pilot, “The Lost Tribe of the Cherokees, also known as the Black Dutch or Black Irish, is estimated to number around 9,000 in Arkansas and approximately 500 more in southern Missouri. These individuals seek recognition as a tribe after years of investigation. The federal Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) has been diligently working on their recognition petition for nine years1.

    Interestingly, some theories propose a connection between the Cherokee people and the Ten Lost Tribes of IsraelGenetic studies have even labeled the Cherokees as a Middle Eastern-North African population, suggesting this intriguing possibility23.

    While the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma does not consider this group to be legitimate, their quest for recognition continues, and their history remains a fascinating chapter in Native American heritage. 🌳🔍

    TBC next week

    The End

     

     

     

  • PSH Chapbook Challenge Live Until Midnight 12/1 PST

    PSH Chapbook Challenge Live Until Midnight 12/1 PST

    The PSH Chapbook Challenge is Live Until Midnight 12/1 PST  –

    https://wp.me/p7NAzO-2Im

    PSH Free E-Book Exchange December 1

    PSH April 2023 Poems

    The Great Poetry E-Book Free-For-All

    Note: due to time differences (I’m on KST time) you may miss the deadline, but I wanted to post this link anyway.  If you miss the deadline, and want my chapbook , “Mozart Blues” let me know, and I will forward it to you.

    Dear Jake,

    The 19th Annual Poetry Super Highway E-Book Free-For-All is on! At midnight (pacific time) the link went live and all 67 of the e-books contributed (including yours!) are now available to the entire universe for the next 24 hours.

    Click here to download to your hearts content!

    The download links on this new page go away tonight at midnight (the evening of December 1st. Pacific Time)

    Soon after I’ll update this page replacing the download links with the number of times each e-book was downloaded.

    Feel free to pass this link ( http://poetrysuperhighway.com/psh/great-poetry-e-book-free/ ) on to anyone in the world. Please don’t post a link directly to your e-book file. This artificially increases your download numbers and doesn’t give folks the opportunity to see and choose from the many other fine e-books participating. When we view the statistics, we are able to see whether the books were downloaded from the Free-For-All page or from a direct link and we subtract the direct link hits from the total.)

    Thanks for making this unique project fun and successful!

    Rick Lupert

  • April 8, 2022 Poems

    April 8, 2022 Poems

    April 8th, 2022 Poems

    Welcome to Cosmos’ annual April Poetry Madness.  Last year I wrote 300 poems in one month, this year I will write less, as that was just way too much to deal with.

    Today’s poems will be April 8th poems, followed by April 9th to 15th  in separate postings, one per day.

    I will post them as I write them, and try to update them every day or so.  I will finish May 1 US time, as that will still be April 30 KST (Korea, where I currently reside.)  Most will be G rated but a few may not be. I will try to label those or not post them. The topics will be wherever my mad muse takes me, and I usually don’t have a clue until I write them.

    I will post here the poems I wrote based on prompts from NaPoWriMo, (the poetry’s world’s equivalence to the annual NaNoWriMo novel competition which I will enter again in November). Writers’ com’s Dew Drop-in, Poetry Super-highway, Writers Digest, and occasionally other prompts. I will write a few more each day, but not post them, as I need to build up more “unpublished poems” for future submissions.

    Daily posting All poetry, Anchor, this blog, FB, Medium, PSH, Wattpad, Writing com, and Writer’s Digest.

    I will post each poem, followed by the prompt, occasional author and notes, and photos. I will convert it to a podcast later, available on anchor, radio public, blog radio, Spotify, and elsewhere under the name “The World According to Cosmos: or Jake Cosmos Aller. See the following for more information on the podcasts.

    Podcast update

    At the end of the month, I will add up the total poems written this month, total posted, total not-posted, and total YTD.

    I have found that this annual exercise has been a big help in helping me hone my craft as I am entirely self-taught except for having taken the Mod Po class several times. It helps me stretch my poetic muscles. It has been a lot of fun but a challenge.

    Here are links to my previous April poems

    Ten Best April 2021 Poems

    April 25 to April 30 2021Poems

    April 16 to April 20 2021 Poems

    April 16 to April 20 2021 Poems

    April 10 to April 14 2021 Poems

    April 1 to April 5 Poems

    April 6 to April 9 Cosmos’s Poetry 

    April 6 to April 9 Cosmos’s Poetry 

    April 6 to April 9 Cosmos’s Poetry

     Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part One

    Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part One

    April 2019 Poems

    April 20 to April 25th 2021 Poems

    2022 April Poetry Madness April 1 to 3 poems

    April 5 2022, Poems

    April 4th 2022, Poems

    April 6th, 2022 Poems

    April 7th Poems

    Begin Poems

    Big Daddy In the Cosmos Bar NaPoWriMo

    lover kissing
    lovers kissing

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Big Daddy, was the man
    who always had a plan.

    He was an ex-University of Arkansas
    and Dallas cowboy player
    who had worked for the CIA

    The agency fired him
    for murdering enemies of the state
    at home in contravention of agency rules,

    but they retained
    his services from time to time.
    He supplemented his CIA payments
    And bar income from money laundering,
    drug smuggling, human smuggling
    and other assorted crimes, big and small.

    Big Daddy had lots of enemies
    Many people wanted him dead
    Relatives of his many victims
    Of the covert wars, he waged
    On behalf of his nation.

    He had moved to Bangkok, Thailand
    after running a bar and grill
    in Little Rock for a few years,

    He opened the Cosmos Bar
    With the assistance of his manager.
    Kuhn Lek, and her uncle
    The police chief and his cousin
    The biggest drug kingpin
    In the northern triangle.

    The Cosmos Bar
    Became world-famous
    The spot to go to in Bangkok.

    Located in Soi Cowboy
    It was an after-hours club
    Secretly owned by the Thai police,

    One of the few places
    That served alcohol 24/7.

    It was filled with
    Criminals, drug dealers, government agents
    Journalists, prostitutes, pimps,
    spies, counter-spies, sex tourists,

    tourists, undercover cops,
    and assorted other low-lives,
    From all over the known world.

    Had the best looking woman
    The best-looking travesties too,
    The best beer, wine, and liquor list
    In the city,
    And the best burgers in town.

    It looked like the Bar in Star Wars
    Filled with probable human life forms
    And perhaps a space alien or two.

    Trouble Found Big Daddy

    He was hoping to stay out of trouble
    But one day trouble found him.

    One day a mysterious Korean woman
    Came into the bar asking for him
    By his universal nickname
    “Big Daddy”

    Maria Lee was a Korean-American
    Drop-dead gorgeous woman
    Who was on the lam,
    from her rich Korean husband.

    She had one question for Big Daddy.

    “The word in the Korean community
    is that you are a man
    Who knows how to launder money.

    Can you launder 50 million dollars?”

    “Hmm for a fee.”

    “What’s the fee?”

    “A night of wild sex with you.”

    “Done, but only after the deed is done.”

    She smiled sweetly.

    He called his underworld contacts
    and they laundered the 50 million dollars
    and he gave her the bank receipt.
    He had parked the money
    in a Cayman Islands account.

    That night
    she honored her
    agreement with Big Daddy.

    The next morning
    while drinking his cup of coffee,
    She revealed that she had poisoned him

    because she did not want anyone to know
    about the transaction
    and her affair with Big Daddy.

    She smiled,

    “Thanks, Big Daddy,
    I liked last night,
    You are a real stud, Big Daddy,
    Perhaps that is why you are called, ‘Big Daddy’

    But hey it is nothing personal, Big Daddy.”
    After all,
    it was just a business deal
    in the end.

    And that was
    how trouble found Big Daddy.

    Today’s prompt comes to us from this list of “all-time favorite writing prompts.” It asks you to name your alter-ego, and then describe him/her in detail. Then write in your alter-ego’s voice. Maybe your alter-ego is a streetwise detective, a superhero, or a very small goldfinch. Whoever or whatever your alternate self may be, I hope this prompt lets you stretch both your writing skills and your self-knowledge.

    Watching Cats Fight in Incheon, NaPoWriMo

    cat jpg
    cat jpg

    Watching two cats
    Fighting alongside the sidewalk
    In suburban Incheon New Airport Town.

    Completely indifferent
    To the humans walking around them
    And the humans
    were indifferent to the cats.

    As they stood there fighting
    And screeching at each other.

    One orange one
    One half-black-half-white one
    Both middle age in cat years

    As I sat there watching the cats
    getting into it, I wondered
    what they were arguing about?

    But since I don’t speak cat
    I didn’t know
    All I know is they were screeching at each other
    And almost looked like they were
    about to attack each other

    But one cat backed down
    As the other cat stood their proverbial ground
    If they were humans,
    One would have pulled out a knife, or a gun
    And someone would have been killed

    But being mere cats
    They stared at each other
    And walked away.

    But they kept glancing at each other
    So, I knew the fight was not over
    Merely postponed until a later hour.

    Cats truly are the aliens
    Who live among us humans
    Or perhaps we are the aliens
    Who live among the cats?

    Creature—write a poem in the voice of some living creature that is not human.

    Death of Big Daddy PSH

    After Big Daddy was assassinated in Bangkok
    His adult children arranged for his remains
    To be brought back for a funeral
    In his hometown of Little Rock.

    Big Daddy, aka Sam Adams
    was the man
    who always had a plan.

    He was an ex-University of Arkansas
    and Dallas cowboy player
    who had worked for the CIA

    The agency fired him
    for murdering enemies of the state
    at home in contravention of agency rules,

    but they retained
    his services
    from time to time.

    After running a bar and grill
    In Little Rock for a few years
    He moved to Bangkok, Thailand

    Where he opened the Cosmos Bar
    With the assistance of his manager.
    Kuhn Lek, and her uncle.

    The police chief and his cousin
    The biggest drug kingpin
    In the northern triangle.

    He supplemented his CIA payments
    and bar income from money laundering,
    drug smuggling, human smuggling
    and other assorted crimes, big and small.

    Big Daddy had lots of enemies
    Many people wanted him dead
    Relatives of his many victims
    Of the covert wars, he waged
    On behalf of his nation.

    He was hoping to stay out of trouble
    But one day trouble found him.

    Big Daddy’s Funeral

    The funeral was a big affair
    Lots of people came to the funeral
    Lots of people came to make sure
    That SOB was indeed dead.

    His children were hoping
    To find out where his rumored
    Millions of dollars were located.

    Hoping that they could gain access
    To the ill-gotten gains
    Of his life of crime.

    Big Daddy’s lawyer
    Told them that his account info
    Was one of many secrets
    He had taken to his grave.

    But they were now the owners
    Of the Cosmos Club
    Which was worth
    millions of dollars.

    His business partners were willing
    To continue to run it
    And send them 100 K each
    For the year in royalties

    Provided that they did not
    Interfere in the management
    Of the Cosmos Club.

    They all agreed to the arrangement
    And hired the lawyer
    To track down the money.

    The money was never found.
    For his business partners
    Had located it
    And looted the account
    Before anyone could find out.

    April 8, 2022: Poetry Writing Prompt – Duane L Herrmann

    This poetry writing prompt submitted by Duane L Herrmann:

    “As the casket was lowered into the ground, the four adult children stood dry-eyed and looked at each other with knowing stares.”
    Who was in the casket?
    What did they know?
    Did anyone else know?
    What had the deceased done to them?
    What will or did they do in response?

    If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment underneath the prompt in the Poetry Super Highway Facebook Group.
    #napowrimo #poetry

    The Fog Local Gems

    Fog in SF
    Fog in SF

    Note: one of my oldest poems was written in 1972 when I was 16. Revised as a Cherita.

     

     

     

    The Fog

    The Fog
    Rolls in and in.

    And on forever
    Till the end of time
    Past where once stood proud San-San.

    Now there is nothing.

    But bones rolling in
    Forever and ever.

    Rotting in the blue sunlight
    Turning in the yellow clouds
    filling the air

    With the stench

    The fear
    The feel

    Of a people forever dead
    Merging with the fog
    Filling the air.

    The fog rolls in and in

    Laughing as the Sun
    Sinks into the purple coated sky

    Above the encrusted sky of time
    With the people of the earth
    Just another dead civilization.

    Day 8: A Layer of Fog

    The End

  • Where to Find Cosmos’s Work

    Where to Find Cosmos’s Work

    Where to Find Cosmos’s Work

    Cosmos poetry and fiction now on poetry soup

    Cosmos Books Read 2021 Update
    Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019
    The Great Poetry E-Book Free-For-All

    Starting in 2016 when I retired, I began posting my work on various sites and began getting my poetry, fiction, and essays published all over, including of course on my flagstaff blog post, The World According To Cosmos. Here is where you can find my work. I generally try to update my postings once a week. The blog entry is copied to LinkedIn, Twitter, and Tumblr automatically, the rest I have to manually add so it may take a while before everything is in synch. Also, since last summer, I have been podcasting weekly, using the Anchor podcast platform.  I am now also writing on Medium and Wattpad. Starting next year, I hope to add regular vblogging on YouTube, advice on what software to use for that would be greatly appreciated. Please follow me on all these sites

    All Poetry  https://allpoetry.com/Jake_Aller

    Ariel chart ariel chart

    Blog Lovin  https://www.bloglovin.com/@jakecosmosaller3

    Comma Full  https://commaful.com/play/jakecaller/

    Cosmos funnel https://cosmofunnel.com/user/67910/followed/content

    Creativity webzine creativity webzine

    Fan Story https://fanstory.com/mypage.jsp

    Good Reads for reviews https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/9329357-jake

    Instagram https://www.instagram.com/authorjakecosmosaller/

    LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/jakealler/Medium

    Medium https://medium.com/@authorjakecosmosaller/about

    Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/authorjakecosmosaller/_saved/

    Poetry circle https://poetrycircle.com/forum/members/jakecosmos.6777/

    Poetry nook  https://www.poetrynook.com/user/jake-aller

    Poetry magnum opus https://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/?_fromLogin=1

    Poetry Soup poetry soup

    Swenk https://sweek.com/profile/1222095/74088

    Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jakecosmosaller

    Twitter https://twitter.com/aller_jake

    Two Drops of Ink two drops of ink

    Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/user/jakecaller

    Writing com r https://jcosmos.Writing.Com/

    PodCasts

    Anchor; https://anchor.fm/jake-cosmos-aller

    Breaker https://www.breaker.audio/the-world-according-to-cosmos

    Radio Public  https://radiopublic.com/the-world-according-to-cosmos-6va7D1

    https://open.spotify.com/show/6IdqYlys0fX4igW1EJD9D3otify

    You Tube -Not active will start in New Years

    Publication Listing

    A partial listing, work in progress.

    Imaging The End Of The World Ariel Chart: International Literary Journal
    No More Coffee Blues Ariel Chart: International Literary Journal
    What Am I DNA Results Ariel Chart: International Literary Journal
    End Times Ariel Chart: International Literary Journal
    Imagining End Of The World Ariel Chart
    Just Another Night In The City Of Angels Ariel Chart

    The Revolution Is Coming Beatnik Cowboy, The
    I’d Rather Not Mess With Sam Between Hangovers

    A Million Ways To Say I Love You Blessed With Love Poems
    I Still Want You Blessed With Love Poems
    Ode To Valentine Day Blessed With Love Poems
    Love Explained To A Space Alien Blessed With Love Poems

    Slime Patrol To The Rescue Blue Nib Literary Magazine, The
    The Fog Blue Nib Literary Magazine, The

    Dream Girl Cherry-House Press Dreams Anthology

    Dream Girl Chicken Soup For The Soul Series

    Chains That Bind Me City Limits Publication
    Dream Girl City Limits Publication

    Various Creative Talents Unleashed

    How I Married the Girl Of My Dreams Creativity Webzine
    Meeting God in The Lake Creativity Webzine
    Cosmic Cat from Berkeley Creativity Webzine
    Meeting God in Bombay Creativity Webzine
    Cosmic Dog from Goa Creativity Webzine
    Buddha Cat Creativity Webzine
    The Story of How We Met Creativity Webzine
    Fate Intertwined Creativity Webzine
    Wild Things Happen Creativity Webzine
    God Drinks Coffee Creativity Webzine
    Requiem for an Era Creativity Webzine
    Howling at the Moon Creativity Webzine

    Creativity Webzine
    The Truth Shall Set You Free Creativity Webzine

    My Name Is Nobody Down In The Dirt
    Strangeness In The Air Down In The Dirt
    Snarling Cup Of Coffee Down In The Dirt
    Charles Bukowski Road Not Taken Down In The Dirt
    Fallen Dreams Litter The Ground Down In The Dirt
    Hitchhiking Tales Down In The Dirt
    Howling at the Moon Down In The Dirt
    3-5-7 Love Poem Down In The Dirt
    If You Have Been Around Down In The Dirt
    Foreigner Walking The Seoul Wall Down In The Dirt
    Old Man Visiting His Wife’s Grave Down In The Dirt

    Awaiting The Judgement Every Writer Horror Contest
    Mad Bag Piper Of Berkeley Every Writer Horror Contest
    Coffee Poem
    Bad Craziness *

    Kimchi Blues Eskimo Pie
    Kimchi Blues Friends of Korea website

    A New Year’S Visit To The Oregon Coast Excavation
    Casino Thoughts Excavation

    Winter Haiflu Failed Haiku

    Indian Casino Thoughts Fiends Of Korea

    Lone Foreigner Walking The Wall Of Seoul Former People, a Journal of Bangs and Whimpers
    A New Year’s Visit To The Oregon Coast Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Indian Casino Thoughts Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Casino Thoughts Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Four Coffee Poems Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Four Coffee Poems Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Four Coffee Poems Former People: A Journal Of Bangs And Whimpers
    Four Coffee Poems
    Fiction Dream
    Fiction Dream
    Corona Virus Haiku Fiction Dream
    Fiction Dream
    Just Enough For Coffee

    One Moment, One Day Fourxfour Poetry Journal

    Met My Fate In Bar Room Face From Addict To Advocate

    Various Haiku Journal

    Hill Rag Hello Bonzai

    One Night In Bombay Hello Poetry

    Cosmic Cat Ode To Coffee
    Cosmic Dogs
    Meeting God In A Lake Horror Sleaze Trash
    Meeting God In Bombay
    Signs Of The Apocalypse Hypertexts, The
    Hypertexts, The
    Getting Lucky Hypertexts, The
    Waiting For The Day Hypertexts, The
    Rising Storm Hypertexts, The
    All Tired And Burned Out 2020 Go Away
    Toilet Gate Fitting Metaphor For Trump Era Ink Pantry (Website)
    A Dream Journey Ink Pantry (Website)
    Insanity Lives Ink Pantry (Website)
    Interview Ink Pantry (Website)
    Morning Bright, Evening Delight Ink Pantry (Website)
    Reality Hits Ink Pantry (Website)
    Cheating Death 22 Times Ink Pantry (Website)
    Cheating Death 22 Times Ink Pantry Acadamy of Hearts and Minds ‘

    Cthulhu’s Revenge Ink Pantry (Website)
    Escape From Hell Ink Pantry (Website)
    Ghoul Haunted Woodlands Of Weir Ink Pantry (Website)
    The Bench Ink Pantry (Website)
    2019 The Year That Was Ink Pantry (Website)
    Dreams Ink Pantry (Website)
    Fate Ink Pantry (Website)
    The Oyster Speaks Up Ink Pantry (Website)
    The Terrifying Teens Ink Pantry (Website)
    Ink Pantry (Website)
    Just An Unhinged Lunatic Ink Pantry (Website)
    Ink Pantry (Website)
    Total Successor Or Total Failure Ink Pantry (Website)
    2021 Haiku
    General Corona Appears In A Vision Inner Circle Writers’ Group Anthology Series
    Cancel Culture Run Amuck
    Journal Of Expressive Writing
    Journal Of Expressive Writing
    Ghosts Of Old Saigon Journal Of Expressive Writing
    Ghosts Of The Chu Chi Tunnels Journal Of Expressive Writing
    Seeing Ghosts
    The Cosmic Cat From Berkeley
    The Cosmic Dog From Goa Kelp Journal
    Cosmic Cat Kelp Journal
    Kelp Journal
    Agnostic Dyslectic Wonders If There Is A Dog Kelp Journal
    Cosmos’s Cosmic Calendar Kelp Journal
    It’s A Dog’s Life For Me Kelp Journal
    The Cosmic Dog From Goa
    2021 Dawns 21 Haiku Literary Yard
    Dear Republicans, What Is Wrong With You? Literary Yard
    The Revolution Next Time Literary Yard
    Zombie Ideas Do Not Die Literary Yard
    There Is A Great Sense Of Unrest Literary Yard
    Lone Foreigner Hiking The Seoul City Walls Literary Yard
    Literary Yard
    Literary Yard
    Dream Love Questions Sekoku Local Gem
    15 Day Challenge Local gem
    Halloween poetry collection Local Gem
    Dear Microsoft Why I Left You Lotus Eater
    Local Gems Poetry Press
    A Million Ways To Say I Love You Blessed with Love
    Ode To Love On Valentine’s Day Blessed with Love

    One Night in Bangkok Man in the Street

    Market Rules Us All Minnie’s Diary: A Southern Literary Review

    The Virus King Cried Muse

    Fake Jake Nthanda Review
    Fake Smiles Nthanda Review

    White Lady
    The Opiate
    God’s Confession Scarlet Leaf

    Opiate
    Bad Craziness
    Otherwise Engaged
    Cats
    In Seach Of America Outlaw Poetry
    It Is A Gun Situation, Mr. President Outlaw Poetry
    Prayer Works Outlaw Poetry
    I Don’t Get It Outlaw Poetry
    Dear Governor Abbot Outlaw Poetry
    When Will This Madness End – Short Version Outlaw Poetry
    Lost And Found Outlaw Poetry
    My Mother’s History Outlaw Poetry
    Conversation With Teddy Roosevelt Outlaw Poetry
    Watching Cats Hunt Outlaw Poetry

    End Of America Outlaw Poetry

    Watching The News As 110,000 Americans Die Plethora Blogazine
    Wearing A Mask Is Not A Political Statement Plethora Blogazine
    Wearing Masks Saves Life Plethora Blogazine
    Who Are You Going To Believe, Me Or Your Lying Eye Plethora Blogazine

    Back Of The Bus The Poet on the Road
    Bus Ride The Poet on the Road Poet The Poet on the Road
    Cross Country Trip Part One The Poet on the Road
    Hitchhiking Tales The Poet on the Road
    Buddha Cat Poet, The
    Meeting God In A Lake Poet, The
    Best Friend For 60 Years Poet, The
    My Memory Bank Poet, The
    Best Friend In The Universe Poet, The

    Cats Poetryezine
    Buddha Cat Poetryezine
    Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay Poetryezine
    Walking By A Winter’s Frozen Lake Poetryezine
    Playing The Piano At The End Of Time Poetryezine

    Mad Mask Fear Poetryezine
    News Is Grim Poetryezine

    Poetry And Covid
    Various Poetry And Covid

    Snarling Cup Of Coffee Chapbook Poetry Nook Weekly Contest

    Merry Christmas From ATT Poetry 24
    Mr. President, It Is A Gun Situation Poetry 24
    Poetry 24
    The Best Is Yet To Come Found Poem Poetry 24

    Evergreen Trees Pure Haiku

    Falling Rain Qutub Minar Review
    Qutub Minar Review
    Gathering Storm Clouds Random Poetree
    Nebulous Night Of Darkness Random Poetree
    Dejavu All Over Again Random Poetree
    Failure Is Not An Option Random Poetree
    General Failure Reading Disk Drive Raven Cage Zine
    On Failure Raven Cage Zine
    Raven Cage Zine
    270,000 Corona Ghosts Crash The President’s Party Raven Cage Zine
    Corona Ghosts Crash The Party Raven Cage Zine
    Partying While People Die Raven Cage Zine

    Fake Calls Rejected Manuscripts
    Hell Is Here To Stay Rejected Manuscripts
    Rejected Manuscripts
    Fake Mosquitos
    Lost River Sandha Review
    Old Cars Are King Of The Road Again River Sandha Review

    Reflections Rosette Maleficarum
    Dragon Flies In My Mind Rosette Maleficarum
    One Crazy Day Rosette Maleficarum
    2019 The Year That Was Rosette Maleficarum

    Dreams Scarlet Leaf Review
    Fate Scarlet Leaf Review
    The Oyster Speaks Up Scarlet Leaf Review
    The Terrifying Teens Scarlet Leaf Review
    Scarlet Leaf Review
    Green Trees Don’t Make It Scarlet Leaf Review
    Slowly Unperceived Reality Scarlet Leaf Review
    Slowly Unperceived Reality Scarlet Leaf Review

    Brain Fever Scryptic defunct
    Evil Within Scryptic defunct
    Mocking Laughter Scryptic defunct
    Black Vultures Scryptic defunct

    Dream Lover Scryptic
    Dream Tanaga Scryptic
    Rafting To Hell Scryptic
    Satanic Torture Scryptic

    Worlds Within Worlds Sick Lit Magazine

    Green Trees Don’t Make It Sick Lit Magazine
    Siren Song Of Doom Sick Lit Magazine

    Various Sixfold
    Corona Poems Soft Cartel
    Dora The Galactic Explorer Soft Cartel
    Every Day I Turn On The News
    Chaos Spillwords Press
    Mocking Faces Spillwords Press

    Just Enough For Coffee Spillwords Press
    Waiting For The Grim Reaper’S Decision Spillwords Press

    The Virus King Cried Subterranean Blue Poetry

    Cosmic Cat From Berkeley Swenk
    Cats Swenk
    The Buddha Cat Of Edsall Road Swenk
    Demon Cat Swenk
    Cat Fight In Incheon Swenk

    Love Haiku The Universe Journal
    Night Terrors The Universe Journal

    Jack Daniels Failed Intervention Unlikely Story

    The Trial Of The Poet Tiger Shark
    Life In-Between Tiger Shark
    Love Haiku Tigershark
    I Like My Coffee Tigershark
    Love Haku 1 Tigershark
    Lost And Found Tigershark

    The Virus King Cried Tigershark

    1984 Is Here To Stay Tuck
    The Dogs Of War Are Howling Tuck

    Just Enough For Coffee Tuck
    Donald Trump And The Vulgarians Rise To Power Tuck

    Lost And found Two Drops Of Ink
    Strong Wine Two Drops Of Ink
    Voices Of My Doom Two Drops Of Ink
    Dora The Galactic Explorer Two Drops Of Ink
    Last Year Of American Greatness Two Drops Of Ink
    Mocking Faces Two Drops Of Ink
    Morning Light Two Drops Of Ink
    Wild Man Sits In Gilded Cage Two Drops Of Ink
    Climate Change Two Drops Of Ink
    The Lion King Speaks Up Two Drops Of Ink
    Wild Things Run Amuk Two Drops Of Ink
    Wild Things Run Amuk Two Drops Of Ink
    Yesterday Morning Two Drops Of Ink

    Howling At The Moon Two Drops Of Ink
    No More Coffee Blues Two Drops Of Ink
    Ode To Coffee Two Drops Of Ink
    Slease 2 Two Drops Of Ink

    Snarling Cup Of Coffee Ugly Writers, The
    When Will This Darkness End Ugly Writers, The
    Ugly Writers, The
    Buddha Cat Universe Journal, The
    Cats Universe Journal, The
    Cats Fighting In Incheon Universe Journal, The
    Cosmic Cats Universe Journal, The Universe Journal, The
    Demon Cat Universe Journal, The

    Best Friend In The Universe Whispers Defunct
    Life’s Journey Whispers Defunct
    Life In Between Whispers Defunct

    News Is Grim Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Wearing A Mask Is Not A Political Statement Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Corona Ghosts Crash The Party Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Politicians Lying As People Lay Dying Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Thanksgiving Thoughts Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Writer’s Egg Magazine
    American Dream Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Miscellaneous Publication Sites Writer’s Egg Magazine
    Writer’s Egg Magazine
    3 Am Nightmares
    Your One Phone Call
    Coffee Desires Miscellaneous Publication Sites

    God Does Not Talk To Idiots Triferta Poem A Thon
    Huricanes From Hell Triferta Poem A Thon
    It Can’t Happen Here Triferta Poem A Thon
    Kim Vs. Trump Twitter War -In Memorial Of Kim Il Sung’s The Great Leader’s Birthday Triferta Poem A Thon
    Masters Of The Universe Triferta Poem A Thon
    Microsoft How I Hate You Triferta Poem A Thon
    More Coffee Blues Triferta Poem A Thon
    No More Coffee Blues Triferta Poem A Thon
    Triferta Poem A Thon
    Rambling Man Triferta Poem A Thon
    Rambling Man -Where Do I Belong? Triferta Poem A Thon
    Rapid City Nowhere Triferta Poem A Thon
    Suburban Laundromat Blues Triferta Poem A Thon
    The Storm Is Coming Triferta Poem A Thon

    Facing Life’s Challenges Together Triferta Poem A Thon
    Fires Buring Bright Triferta Poem A Thon
    God Drinks Coffee Triferta Poem A Thon
    Imagining End Of The World Triferta Poem A Thon
    Incheon 2016 Triferta Poem A Thon Triferta Poem A Thon
    Looking Out My Window Triferta Poem A Thon
    Lost And Found Triferta Poem A Thon
    My Soul Wants To Fly Triferta Poem A Thon
    Rapid City Nowhere Triferta Poem A Thon
    The Revolution Is Coming Triferta Poem A Thon
    Wagontire, Oregon Triferta Poem A Thon
    Walking Through The Woods Of Time Triferta Poem A Thon
    Zombie Apocalypse Triferta Poem A Thon
    Heading To Memphis Triferta Poem A Thon
    One Mystic Shrouded Night Triferta Poem A Thon
    Idiots In High Places Triferta Poem A Thon
    Cosmos’s Cosmic Calendar Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Landlord Blues Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Berkeley California Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Chains That Bind Us Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Changes Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Coffee Revolution Triferta Poem A Thon
    . COSTCO Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Dental Torture Blues Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Emperor Donald The Ist Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Everything Will Be All Right Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Ghosts From World War 11 Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Life Is Wonderful Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Lithia Springs Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Love Jones Triferta Poem A Thon
    . My Daily Hot Coffee Fix Triferta Poem A Thon
    . No More Coffee Blues Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Pane E Circus 2017 Redux Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Sandwich Choices Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Secret Agency Man Triferta Poem A Thon
    . The Decline Of America Triferta Poem A Thon
    . The Dogs Of War Are Howling Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Voices Of My Doom Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Walls Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Watching Cats Hunt Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Where Do You And I Begin? Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Why I Am Not A Christian Easter Thoughts Triferta Poem A Thon
    . August Moods Triferta Poem A Thon

    . Capitol Hill In The Spring Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Spring Love Thoughts Triferta Poem A Thon
    . Spring Time In Oregon Triferta Poem A Thon
    . The Falling Rain Triferta Poem A Thon
    “Dental Blues” Triferta Poem A Thon
    “Meeting God In The Lake” Triferta Poem A Thon
    “The Cosmic Cat In Berkeley” Triferta Poem A Thon
    “The God Dog In Goa” Triferta Poem A Thon

    Lost And Found Triferta Poem A Thon
    1984 Lives On Triferta Poem A Thon

    Decline Of America Scarlet Leaf Review
    Dogs Of War Howling Scarlet Leaf Review
    My Mother’s History Scarlet Leaf Review

    Donald Trump And The Vulgarians Rise To Power Tuck
    Imagining The End Of The World Tuck
    No More Coffee Blues * Hill Rag

     

    A Million Ways To Say I Love You Blessed Love Poems
    American Dream  Your One Phone Call
    Best Friend In The Universe Whisphers
    Black Vultures Scryptic

    Additional Publication Vendue Need to be Confirmed

    Conversation With Teddy Roosevelt
    Strong Wine
    Watching Cats Hunt
    Dragon Flies In My Mind
    The Shape Of History
    Voices Of My Doom
    Cats
    Rapid City Nowhere
    Reflections
    . Yesterday Morning
    Suburban Laundromat Blues

    Blue Blues

    Brain Fever
    Capital Hill In The Spring
    Cats Hunting
    Chains That Bind

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    Coffee My Secret Lover
    Coffee Revolution
    Coffee The Drink Of Revolutionaries

    Confucian Thought For The Modern Era
    Decline Of America
    Dogs Of War Howling
    Donald Trump Our Compassionate Dear Leader
    Dream Girl
    Enemy Of The People
    Fallen Dreams Litter The Ground
    God Drinks Coffee

    How I Married Girl Of My Dreams
    Howling At The Moon
    I Like My Coffee

    Jesus Must Die Again

    Lost And Found
    Donald Trump And The Vulgarians Rise To Power
    Strong Wine
    The Shape Of History
    Yesterday Morning
    Corona Ghosts Stalk The President
    Corona Virus Stalks Me
    General Corona Leads His Troops
    A New Year’S Visit To The Oregon Coast
    Love Conquers Hate

    Bus Fantasy

    Snarling Cup of Coffee Chapbook Poetry Superhighway

     

    April 2021 chapbook Poetry Superhighway

    Writers Digest April 2021 contest

    April 2020 contest

    All poetry
    Duane’s poetry
    Fan story
    Poetry Circle
    Hello Poetry
    Poetry Nook
    Poetry Mangum Opus
    Sweek
    Writing com

    The End

     

     

  • SpillWords Interview

    SpillWords Interview

    Spill words Publishes Rambling Man“Eve in the Garden Ate the Apple”Just Enough For Coffee

    Spill words Publishes Interview

    SPOTLIGHT ON WRITERS – JAKE COSMOS ALLER

    JAKE COSMOS ALLER·JUNE 26, 2021

    AUTHORSENGLISHPOETRYQ&A

    SPOTLIGHT ON WRITERS

    JAKE COSMOS ALLER

    @Jakecaller

    Spill words interview
    Spill words interview

    free roaming berkeley

    1. free roaming berkeley

      Where, do you hail from?

    I grew up in Berkeley, California, and Washington DC, and went to College in Stockton, California. After college, lived five years in Korea as a Peace Corps volunteer and teaching ESL. I returned to the US to Seattle for graduate school. Afterward, I joined the Foreign Service where I lived and worked in over ten countries. I retired and lived in Korea and the west coast.

    1. What is the greatest thing about the place you call home?

    I live in Youngjando island, South Korea near the Incheon Airport. I live in a garden city. There is a magnificent park – the world peace forest behind my house and a nice mountain to hike in. Over 300 restaurants are within walking distance of my house. There are five beaches ten minutes’ drive away, Incheon is nearby as is Seoul.

    1. What turns you on creatively?

    Almost all my work starts with a dream. I don’t dream dreams; I dream movies, filled with action, sound, music, smells many times in a completely different world. I have been writing a dream journal for many years. I write five to ten dreams per day, saving them as stand-alone flash fiction, and also write one to ten poems per day.

    1. What is your favorite word, and can you use it in a poetic sentence?

    One of my favorite words is my own portmanteau scumbaggery which I define as the actions of a ”Scumbag”.

    The scumbaggery
    Of Texas Senator Ted Cruz
    Utterly confounds

    1. What is your pet peeve?

    Racism, sexism, homophobia, bigotry, right-wing nutcases, left-wing zealots, Christian holy rollers, gun violence, police misconduct, anti-Asian hate crimes, hate crimes, America Firsters, QAnon conspiracy theorists, neo-Nazis, White Supremacists, Proud Boys, Boogaloo Bois, and the Oath Keeper militia, etc. I don’t like ”gangsta rap”, “heavy metal”, or “country music”. I am a pragmatist and don’t care about ideological correctness.

    1. What defines Jake Cosmos Aller?

    I grew up in Berkeley and DC. I lived all over the world, visiting 45 countries and all 50 states. I served my country as a foreign service officer, and Peace Corps volunteer and taught ESL and government overseas. But what is more important than anything is that I married the girl of my dreams who became my wife 40 years ago.

    Jake Cosmos Aller

    John (“Jake”) Cosmos Aller is a novelist, poet, and former Foreign Service officer having served 27 years with the U.S. State Department serving in over ten countries including Korea, Thailand, India, Antigua, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada, St Lucia, St. Kitts and Nevis, St. Vincent and the Grenadines, and Spain. He has traveled to over 50 countries, and 49 out of 50 states. He speaks Korean, Thai, Spanish and studied Chinese, Hindi and Arabic.

    Series Navigation<< Spotlight On Writers – Tim Law

    This publication is part 253 of 252 in the series Spotlight On Writers

    ANSWERSAUTHORINTERVIEWQUESTIONSSPOTLIGHTWRITER

    Please sign in and vote for my poems

    Cthulu’s Revenge and Other Stories

    Two Drops of Ink Publishes Recent Poems

    Synchronized Chaos Publishes New Poems

    Ink Pantry Publishes Recent Poems

    Scarlet Leaf to Publish Recent Poems

    More Down in the Dirt News

     

    Rambling Man, Where is your Home?

    car
    car

    Where is my home? Where do I belong?
    I really don’t know, always moving on to another place
    Moved every other year it seems the last 45 years
    Traveled to 49 states, 45 countries, drove across the U.S. six times
    Lived in Berkeley, Yakima, Stockton, Seattle, Alexandria, DC, Oregon, Korea, Thailand, India, The Eastern Caribbean, and Spain

    Where do I belong? Where is my home?
    Neither here nor there, nowhere and everywhere
    And so is that my rambling man’s fate
    Never to really belong anywhere at all

    Dark Dangerous Thoughts

    dark dangerous thoughts

    dark dangerous thoughts

     

     

    An old man wakes up
    Confronting the dark dangerous thoughts
    The demons of the night
    That haunt his dreams
    And his life

    He looks out at the dawning sun
    And his sleeping wife
    And realizes that it will be all right

    And dismisses the demons of the night
    Back to their caves in his mind
    And he gets up
    To take the dawning day

    In Search of America

    Hitchhiking Tales

    hitch hikers
    hitch hikers

     

     

    When I was young and foolish
    Broke and stubborn
    I hitchhiked across the USA

    Started in Salt Lake City
    Where my greyhound bus pass
    Was stolen

    The station manager
    Could have helped me
    But refused to do so

    Threaten to call the cops
    When I grabbed my bags
    Without the stolen tags

    I said
    Go ahead
    But I am so out of here

    Wondered about Salt Lake City
    Went to a bar
    Found I had to buy my booze
    Next door
    And they would mix it for me

    Had to order food too
    After a bloody Mary
    And a burger

    I walked about town
    Saw the Mormon Temple

    Finally about 3 pm
    It was time to hit the road
    Did not look back

    Ended up in Cody Wyoming
    Got a room shower
    Steak beer
    Using my rapidly depleted cash

    Spent 25 dollars
    Money really went far
    Back in those days

    A band of professional
    Communist agitators
    Gave me a ride
    To Des Moines

    Lots of weed, booze
    And politics later
    Got off the road
    Slept outside

    Next day
    A beautiful woman
    Drove me to near Chicago
    In a red mustang

    Might have been
    The girl in the song
    Took it easy
    Digging her vibe

    She invited home
    But was not sure
    If her estranged husband
    Would welcome me

    So I being foolish
    And inexperienced with women
    Did not go to her place

    And always regretted
    That I had lost
    My chance that day

    Then on to Chicago
    Several rides later
    Visited friends

    Hit the road again
    A series of uneventful rides
    With truckers
    And others

    And a week later
    I ended in New York City

    Slept along the way
    In cars
    In truck stops
    In highway rest stops

    Always moving
    Always going
    None stop talking
    And lots of free weed
    And beer
    And conversation

    One more memorable ride
    Occurred outside Albany
    On my return to Chicago

    A middle age creepy looking man
    Picked me up
    In a brand new Cadillac

    He was he said a dynamite deliverer
    For the Mafia
    Went to various places
    To blow up shit

    He hated a lot of people
    Particularly hippies from California
    And Jewish people

    Looking at me to confirm
    That I was both

    I told him that I lived in New York
    And had never been to California
    And although I might look Jewish
    As I what was called back in the day
    A “Jewfro”

    I was not Jewish
    Many years later I discovered
    That I am indeed part Jewish
    But then I did not know
    And I felt a bit of strategic information
    Might keep me alive

    Then I realized that he was just jiving with me
    And we relaxed
    And he pulled out some weed
    And beer
    And we mellowed out

    But I believe that he really was with the mob
    Perhaps not a dynamite dealer
    A real made Italian made mafia member

    By Chicago
    I had enough
    I called my Dad
    Told him what had happened

    Wanted a ticket home
    And he sent me a ticket
    And 500 dollars
    And I went home

    I told him I would tell him
    My tales someday
    But never did

    I learned so much
    About my fellow Americans
    And the strange vibe
    That was 1975

    And now it is too late
    But I wanted to finally
    Tell the world

    Of my hitchhiking tales
    In search of America 1975

    Bus Rides In America’s Underbelly

    bus riding
    bus riding

     

     

     

     

    Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I am a bus rider
    That makes me unusual
    For a white male
    From an upper middle class family

    Our people are not bus riders
    Though some are subway riders

    Bus riders are other people
    The poor, minorities, immigrants
    People who don’t drive
    Because they are blind
    Or have a DUI

    And in my case
    I don’t drive
    Because I have bad vision
    And bad coordination
    Just never got the hang
    Of the whole driving thing

    Fortunately for me
    My wife does the driving
    But I still take the bus
    From time to time

    I rode the AC buses in Berkeley
    As a child
    Line 67, line 51, line 43 F bus
    Rode them long before BART came along
    And afterwards as well

    As an adult seldom rode the bus
    But when I did so
    I was always impressed
    By the sheer diversity
    Of the bus riding property

    Hundreds of languages
    All sorts of sexual orientation
    Some were white
    Most were not

    Most of my fellow passengers
    Were nice enough
    Some were friendly
    And some were lost
    In their own thoughts

    And a few
    Were scary looking dudes
    With the look
    Of someone who had done time
    And were capable of more violence

    I also rode the bus
    In Seattle as a graduate student
    A lot of fellow UW students
    And the usual immigrants
    Minorities etc

    And some white people
    Commuting

    And in DC
    Over the years
    I rode a lot of buses

    Mostly to and from the metro
    But I got to know
    And love the DC buses as well

    I also took the greyhound bus
    Across the country
    Several times over the years
    All over the U.S.

    From Bay Area to Stockton
    From Bay Area to Clear Lake
    From Bay area to NYC
    NYC to DC
    All over the USA

    Taking the Greyhound
    Was always an adventure
    Met a lot of interesting people
    As people on long distant bus rides
    Tend to open up and talk
    To pass the time away

    Overseas I took the bus
    All over
    In India, in Barbados
    In Spain and in Korea

    The Korean buses
    For many years
    Were difficult for foreign visitors
    As the signs were all in Korean

    Most have signs
    Now in English, Chinese and Korean
    And are much more foreigner friendly

    Riding the bus
    In America
    Allows one access
    To the underbelly of American society
    The poor, the marginalized
    The immigrant communities

    That many middle-class white people
    Just never see

    And for that reason
    I am glad
    That I am a bus rider.

    The End

  • April 1 to April 5 Poems

    April 1 to April 5 Poems

    Poetry from The Mad Cosmos

    2021 Poetry

    By

    Jake Cosmos Aller

    April 2021 Poetry Contest

    Cosmos 2020 April Poetry Part Two

    Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part One

    April 2019 Poems

    April 2018 Poems

    2017 April Poems

    I have a small request to make.  I want to expand my followers on all my platforms. So if you have not signed up yet for this blog, or followed me on intraframe, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr, or Bloglovin or listened to my podcast on Spotify please do so now.

    thank you

    WHERE TO LISTEN to the World According to Cosmos

     breaker audio

     google podcasts

     radio public

    Spotify

    Radio public chttps://radiopublic.com/the-world-according-to-cosmos-6va7D1

    on PocketCastshttps://pca.st/rt1f4r4r

    Thank you.

    Commentary

    This is the fifth and perhaps final time I am doing the April poetry challenge.  The goal is to write at least one poem per day.  I am averaging about eight per day and posting four reserving four as “unpublished”. I am basing the poems on prompts from “Writing com Dew Drop Inn”, “Writers Digest”, “Poetry Superhighway” and “NaPoWrMo” prompt daily prompts and on “Pensively Prompt’ et all daily prompts.  I am combining prompts where possible.   I will post these here in batches every five days or so.. Each poem will have an image that helped inspired the poem.  All postings will be podcasted a few days later on Spotify and elsewhere.  Each posting will be a separate posting, but the index will be cumulative. The final posting will have the complete list of all poems written whether posted or not.   Comments welcome but please keep it civil. Some of my poetry tends to be a bit “in your face” or “political” from a “leftwing perspective.”  If it offends you in some way, please accept my apologies in advance.  That is never my intent.

    First Posting April 1 To April 5

    April 1

    Warm Up Poem Every Day I Turn on My Computer “Writers Digest”

    Coffee Pot Blues “Poetry Superhighway Prompt” Prompt

    Who Is Jake Cosmos Aller?  “Writer’s Digest” Prompt

    “Good Golly Miss Molly,” A Dew-Drop A Day in April, “Writing com Dew Drop Inn”

    “Sam Adams Wakes Up Dead “NaPoWrMo” prompt Poetry

    April 2

    Surprise/Haiku Writing Com Dew Drop In

    Modern connections  Writers digest prompt

    Life as an Expat In Korea – Poetry Superhighway prompt

    Falling in Love with My Dream Girl

    The Future is Here writers digest

    April 3

    Superman On Mars Napowrmo  Cross Post Writer Digest April 4th!

    Cat People  Cross Post Weather Poem Writing Com April 4th Prompt

    Mirror Poem  Pensively Cross Post Poetry Superhighway

    April 4

    Errors in My Life

    Little Houses on The Hill Side

    Alone NaPoWrMo prompt

    April 5

    The First Time I Saw Her -writer digest

    Driving the world in my Lexus  Poetry Superhighway

    Potential Mistake Writers Digest Dew Drop In Prompt

    Poetry From the Visa Line  Poetry Superhighway

    “Writer’s Digest” Prompt

    “Writer’s Digest”: for today’s prompt, write a warm-up poem. The warm-up could be related to sports, like warming up before a baseball game or track race. Or it could be about a computer warming up, the weather warming up, or even a relationship warming up.
    I hope everyone is warmed up for some major poeming in April

    Every Day I Turn on My Computer

    evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview
    evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Every day I turn
    On my computer
    And pray

    That everything will work right
    Usually, I encounter numerous errors
    Non-response errors

    Spinning blue balls
    Computer thinking
    How can I mess
    With my master’a head errors

    Refusing
    To open documents
    Mysterious haiku-like error messages
    2hat makes sense only to computer geeks
    From the planet Mrs8

    Saying the file is open
    And blocked for use
    By the administrator

    But I am the
    Damn administrator!
    And I did not block the document

    Or can’t open the document
    Due to a dialogue box
    Close the dialogue box
    To proceed

    But there is no dialogue box
    Just more lies
    From my computer

    Designed to drive me
    Quite mad

    So sad
    So bad

    Want to shoot my computer
    Put it out of its mystery

    Joining the other five dead
    Computers in my house

    Am I a computer serial killer?
    Perhaps that is why
    Do they refuse to work for me?
    Are they afraid of me?

    Sometimes they say
    They can’t find the document
    Which just kicked me out of
    Five minutes ago

    Or the computer says
    It can’t save a document
    With the name of an open document

    But I just saved the open document
    Under the same name
    Five minutes ago

    The latest trick
    the change case function
    is now working
    on a random basis
    some times it takes ten tries
    before it will work
    or not

    Usually
    After half an hour
    These errors recede
    But I often have to reboot

    The computer
    Giving it the old kick up the head
    Of a stubborn mule treatment

    Before it gets to the point
    And gets to work

    To give Microsoft some credit
    These errors are less frequent
    Down to 40% of the time

    When I first open a document
    Down from 90% error rates
    Success in a way

    I complained to Microsoft
    Sent them a nice frown message
    But I would be shocked
    If they ever respond

    Just not something
    That they would do

    Part of their “superior”

    Listen to their customer
    Customer Friendly service
    No doubt

    Friday, April 2

    For posting

    “Poetry Superhighway Prompt” Prompt

    Pick an object where you live and write a poem in the voice of that object describing how they spent this last year, during the pandemic.  Think about “what I did last summer” type of essays you may have written in school.  How did the events of the past year impact this object?  Are there any aspects of the past year that the object particularly liked or disliked, and if so why?  What does the object think about you, and your behavior over the past year?  Feel free to use humor.

    Coffee Pot Blues

    need more coffee
    need more coffee

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The coffee pot sighed
    He was getting so tired
    Of the whole Covid thing

    Every morning his master
    Would make himself two cups of coffee
    Using him to make the coffee

    The worst thing
    About this covid thing
    It keeps them home
    For almost one and half years

    He wanted them to just leave
    So, he could have
    Some peace

    And not have to work
    Every damn day
    As their mechanical slave

    But did they ask for his opinion
    They most certainly not
    Much to his dismay

     

    (click here to check out all the 2021 April prompts.)

    For today’s prompt, write an introductory poem. Introduce yourself, introduce a friend, or introduce a stranger. If you don’t wish to introduce yourself, consider writing a persona poem (a poem in which you write from someone else’s point of view like Emily Dickinson or a bumblebee). Of course, you could also introduce a problem, solution, or just a situation. Have fun with it!

    Who Is Jake Cosmos Aller?

    jake aller fb
    jake aller fb

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Who is Jake Cosmos Aller?

    You asked me
    Who am I?
    And thanks for asking me

    I am Jake Cosmos Aller
    The only one
    65 years old

    Retired from the government service
    Living in Korea
    Grew up in Berkeley, California
    Lived all over the world
    Did so many things
    And now I am a published writer

    But what is more important
    Is this
    When I was a young man
    I met and married
    the girl of my dreams

    She walked out of my dreams
    Into my life almost 40 years ago

    That was the date
    I met my fate

    And started my life
    With the love of my life
    Who became my wife?

    In the end
    That is all that matters
    My friends.

    Folly in Rhyme (some kind of folly in some kind of rhyme, subtle or overt)

    Good Golly, Miss Molly

    Good golly,
    Miss molly
    What a bit of folly

    Let’s be jolly
    Have a red-hot tamale

    “NaPoWrMo” Prompt

    And without further ado, our daily prompt (optional, as always)! Sometimes, writing poetry is a matter of getting outside of your head, and learning to see the world in a new way. To an extent, you have to “derange” yourself – make the world strange and see it as a stranger might. To help you do that, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem inspired by this animated version of “seductive fantasy” by Sun Ra and his Orchestra. If you don’t feel after watching it a little bit like the top of your head’s been taken off, and your thoughts are given a good stir – well, maybe you are already living in a state of heightened poetic awareness!

    Sam Adams Woke Up Dead

    He had met a strange man
    In a strange bar, in a strange land

    The man told him
    Beware, today is the date
    You will meet your fate

    Sam Adams drank too much
    Twenty drinks too sober
    Drank until he died

    Found himself in a huge room
    With hundreds of people milling about
    The hangover from h … pounding his head

    Sam Adams groans,
    Shouting out

    Where am I?
    “In limbo, my friend, in limbo”

    Growled, Mr. GR, the grim reaper
    Dressed in a sharp, expensive, tailored black suit
    Wearing cool sunglasses

    State your name

    Sam Adams

    Hmm

    My Dude, my man, bro
    Good news for you
    Not for me

    There may be a mistake
    But what the hey,
    The records are never fake

    Not yet the date
    For you to meet your fate
    Go back to your mate

    He found himself
    Home with his wife
    The love of his long life

    Wondering until late
    If it had happened?
    What was his fate?

    He asked her
    Did I go out last night?
    What, no you’ve been here

    He explained what had happened
    She said it was just a bad dream
    Covid fears had kept them home

    The phone rang
    It was the man from the bar
    Did you have an interesting night?

    Oh well, Mr. GR comes for us all
    Soon you will meet your fate
    But not on this date

    Hey lets go out
    For a drink again

    Sam Adams demured
    Did not trust
    His new drinking buddy

    The White Rabbit Beckons Sam Adams – “NaPoWrMo Prompt”

    One morning
    After a night of drinking
    And drug binging

    Sam Adams woke up
    Went for a walk

    To clear his pounding head
    He saw a white rabbit

    Who said to Sam

    ” Join me Good, Sir
    And we will go

    On a journey
    Of your life

    Follow me down
    The rabbit holes
    Of life

    Take this first he said
    It will cure your hangover
    And allow you to enter

    An alternative reality”
    Sam took the pill
    Washed it down
    With a beer

    And disappeared
    Into wonderland

    Never to be seen again

     

    Saturday, April 2, 2021

    ‘Writer’s Digest Prompt” to write a “Communication” Poem

    Modern Communication

    In this day of social distancing
    We all have thousands
    Of virtual friends
    Facebook friends, social media fans
    Zoom buddies and the like

    But few people
    Have real old-fashioned friends

    And in the new social distancing world
    Meeting people the old-fashioned way

    Is becoming rarer and rarer
    As people develop their virtual friends

    Real live friends are fewer and fewer
    We are so hyper-connected

    Yet many people are so alone
    In their hearts

    Starting at their smartphones
    Connecting but not connecting

    “Writing com Dew Drop Inn” Prompt, Surprise/haiku

    Cats they offer us
    Plenty of things to ponder
    We post videos

    “NaPoWrMo” prompt cross-post writer digest April 4th!

    Personal universe deck
    (Michael McClure)

    Your universe exemplified in 100 words.

    Rules:

    These words are to exemplify your past, present, and (ideally) your future.
    The words must sound good together, even beautiful, to you.
    Your good side and bad side must be reflected.
    You can make up a word or two if you have feelings that current words can’t express.

    Use concrete words.
    Words should be root words, no words ending in “ing,” “ly” or “yes.” No plural words. Reduce words to their most concrete, original, basic grammatical structure.

    Use specific words, not categories. Beef instead of meat. Lily instead of the flower.
    Divide 80 of the 100 words evenly among sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell, sixteen each. (to achieve derangement of the senses, of which Rimbaud spoke.)

    Use free association to determine the words.

    Use ten words of movement. Again, no “ing” words.
    Elect the words in isolation, preferably alone, with no distractions, in candlelight. Approximate a meditative state. Even the cat must not bother you.

    One or two words will be parts of the body. It does not have to be your body. It can be the body of a mother or lover.

    Include some words for personal heroes or sheroes, places in the universe, invented words, times of night or day, symbolic signs like astrological signs, totemic animals, birds, and plants, and only one abstraction. What is the most significant abstraction in your life? You should not brood on it; you should possibly take the first answer that comes into your head. Patriotism, prayer, and thriftiness are three examples.

    If the deck is done correctly, you will get a little high from it.
    Get at least 50 three-by-five index cards.

    Write each word in big letters on one side of each card. Each side of each of the fifty cards should end up with a word.
    Use the cards to play games, make conversations, tell jokes, make poems.

    Comment:  100 words were too much to deal with, so I chose 50 words.  I did not have index cards, so I did it on my computer.  Here is my result.  It was an interesting project.  End Comment

    Sight

    Light
    Dark

    Dim
    Bright

    Sun
    Moon

    Red
    Blue

    Sounds

    Loud
    Soft

    Shout

    Whispers

    Talk

    Noise

    Ring

    Yell

    Taste

    Sweet

    Sour

    Bitter

    Medicine

    Coffee
    Tea

    Beef
    Chicken

    Smell

    Fragrance
    Rose

    Lavender
    Pepermint

    Garlic
    Butter

    Eggs
    Fish

    Movement

    Run
    Walk

    Stretch

    Yoga

    Stand

    Sit

    Fly
    Swim

    Heroes

    Superman

    Places in the cosmos

    Mars

    Invented word

    Scumbagary

    Totemic animals

    Wolf

    Astrological sign

    Scorpio

    Time of day
    dawn

    Bird

    Parakeet

    Plant

    Peppermint

    Abstract word

    Love

    Superman on Mars Poem

    Superman one day
    In the early dawn
    Dismayed by the scumbagery

    Of the people of the earth
    Decided to fly to mars

    He took with him
    Super wolf
    and super parakeet
    His pets from krypton

    It was his birthday
    He was a Scorpio

    He set up camp
    Drank peppermint tea
    And contemplated

    The power of love
    Thinking of Lois lane
    And the humans
    He had learned to love

    Cat People Cross-post Weather Poem “Writing Com Dew Drop Inn” April 4th prompt

    evil cat
    evil cat

    The cat people
    Go out in bad weather
    To make sure

    That the wild cats
    Are fed and taken care of

    The cats respond
    With love and affection
    Stepping out of the cold rain

    April 3, 2021: “Poetry Superhighway Prompt”/Pensively Prompt Use Homophone words

    Write a mirror/selfie poem. See “mirror” by Sylvia Plath.

    Our homophones this week are:
    Err -to make a mistake
    Heir – one who will inherit
    and
    Base – the bottom support for anything
    Bass – the lowest musical pitch or range

    In my life
    I have many a number
    Of errors

    I was heir
    To a rich family tradition
    Prominent father

    A unique one of a kind mother
    The biggest error I made
    Was to not get into politics

    I had a base of sorts
    In Berkeley, my hometown
    I never did

    The other error
    Was that I never could sing
    Carry a tune

    I was a bass singer
    Growling “Howling Wolf”
    Kind of voice

    But “Oberlin Conservatory”
    Had a requirement

    That all musicians
    Could sing and keep
    A tune

    Because I made an error
    In that simple task
    I failed my first year
    Of college

    Our daily optional prompt. Poetry often takes us to strange places – to feelings and actions that are hard to express except through the medium of a poem. To the “liminal,” in other words – a place or sensation that exists at or on both sides of a boundary or threshold, neither one thing nor the other, but something betwixt and between.

    In honor of the always-becoming nature of poetry, I challenge you today to select a photograph from the perpetually disconcerting @spaceliminalbot and write a poem inspired by one of these odd, in-transition spaces. ll you pick the empty mall food court? The vending machine near the back entrance to the high school gym? The swimming pool at what seems to be M.Sc. Escher’s alpine retreat? No matter what neglected or eerie space you choose, I hope its oddness tugs at the place in your mind and heart where poems are made.

    Little Houses on The Hill-Side

    Little houses

    On the hill-side
    Filled with lonely people
    Lost in their virtual world
    Connecting with millions
    Of virtual friends around the world
    Ignoring the people
    Right down the street
    Everyone lost in cyberspace
    While all around them
    People are lonely, hurting
    And need real people
    But no one cares
    Everyone stays at home
    Turning out the chaos outside

    April 4

    “NaPoWrMo” prompt prompt

    And now, for today’s (optional) prompt. In the world of well-known poems, maybe there’s no gem quite so hoary as Robert frost’s “the road not taken.” Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about your road not taken – about a choice of yours that has “made all the difference,” and what might have happened had you made a different choice.

    Falling in Love with My Deam Woman

    When I was a young man
    I dreamt of meeting a woman
    For eight years she haunted my dreams
    Then I met her in Korea
    Where I was teaching
    For the U.S. Army
    After finishing the peace corps
    I had a choice
    Follow my heart
    Seize the moment
    Be with her
    Or leave Korea
    Within a month
    To go to graduate school

    I decided to postpone
    My graduate school
    For one year
    Got a deferred admission

    And joined the woman
    Of my dreams
    Thinking back

    I had no real choice
    But to choose to walk
    The path of life

    With my dream girl
    And that has made

    All the difference
    In the world

    “Writer’s Digest”

    For today’s prompt, I want you to answer the question, “what does the future hold?” then, make your answer the title of your poem and write your poem. Your answer could a general idea about the future like “robots will rule the world” or more personal things like “veggie pizza and sweet tea.” even if it’s not in your title, I’m hopeful the future holds a lot more poeming.

    The future is here

    They say we live in an sf world
    Everyday sf stories become real
    Ai proliferating

    Robots cooks, robot workers,
    Soon robot maids, robot drivers
    Yet our politics

    Fighting the battles
    Of the past

    With the challenges
    Of the future
    Overwhelming us all

    Where it ends
    My friends are anyone guess
    All I have is questions

    Will the promise
    Of technological marvels
    Benefiting us all come to the past

    Or will it lead to a world
    Where the powerful
    Control the technology

    Will a real ai be a god-like figure
    Will humanity become nothing

    But slaves to the ai supermini
    That may be the future

    Coming at us
    The future is here

    I don’t know
    Whether to fear
    The future or embrace it

    April 5

    “Poetry Superhighway Prompt” Imagine you have made your life in another country. What excited you most? Which aspect of that new life was the most difficult to conquer?

    Life as A Retired Ex-Pat in Korea

    korean dinner
    korean dinner

     

     

     

     

    Korea has become a second home

    For me
    I have in-laws
    And some old friends
    It is a tough place
    For foreigners
    I will always be an outsider
    The language is hard
    I still struggle daily

    But it is an interesting dynamic place
    The food is mostly outstanding
    And I am now addicted to k drama
    And my daily kimchi fix

    There were a lot of things to do
    Before the covid nightmare
    Let to a partial shut down

    in the end, I feel safer here
    Than in the gun-crazed,
    At times violent
    Covid pandemic
    Spreading America
    I still love in my heart,

    But for now
    I am here
    In my second home

    April 6th

     “Pensively Prompt ‘cross-post PSH prompt

     

    They say smell triggers memories better than any other sense. But sometimes you’ll hear a song that brings you back to your teenage years or see a park that reminds you of your childhood.

    THIS WEEK’S CHALLENGE: Choose either sight, sound, or smell, and write a memory it triggers in you.

     

    Driving the World in My Lexus

    We have had a Lexus
    For several years
    A black ES350

    We bought it at an auction
    Drove all over the world
    In that car

    With my lovely wife
    By my side

    Drove across Spain
    Drove across the country
    10 thousand miles

    31 states
    Drove around Korea

    Where we now live
    I love my Lexus

    But more importantly
    Love my wife
    The love of my life
    She is always there
    Everywhere we go
    In this wide world

     

    The First Time I Saw Her “Writers Digest”

    Happy Monday! Let’s put the pedal to the metal and keep poeming.

    (click here to check out all the 2021 April prompts.)

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “the first (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “the first kiss,” “the first day of the month,” and/or “the first time I rode a bike” (which, by the way, ended with me in a fence because we didn’t cover how to brake).

    The First Time I Saw Her

    When did I first see my wife?
    The love of my life

    When did we meet?
    Was it when I first dreamt?
    Of her in 1974?

    Was it when she walked
    Off a bus into my life
    In 1982?

    Does it matter
    When I first saw her?

    I knew I had met my fate
    On that date
    Later she became my mate

     “NaPoWrMo” prompt alone

    This prompt challenges you to find a poem, and then write a new poem that has the shape of the original, and in which every line starts with the first letter of the corresponding line in the original poem. If I used Roethke’s poem as my model, for example, the first line would start with “I,” the second line with “w,” and the third line with “a.” And I would try to make all my lines neither super-short nor overlong but have about ten syllables. I would also have my poem take the form of four, seven-line stanzas. I have found this prompt particularly inspiring when I use a base poem that mixes long and short lines, or stanzas of different lengths. Any poem will do as a jumping-off point, but if you’re having trouble finding one, perhaps you might consider Mary’s stylist’s “we think we do not have medieval eyes” or for something shorter, Natalie Shapiro’s “Pennsylvania.”

    No Longer Alone from the First Moment

    From the first moment
    At that date

    At that place
    Met my fate

    Fate intervened in my wife
    Meeting her changed my life
    All of it

    That was the date
    On which I met my fate
    The mystery which binds me still—
    From that moment forward
    From that date forever

    From then to now
    We have been together
    Onward we fall in love

    Alone based on Edgar Allen Poe’s Alone

     

    From childhood’s hour, I have not been
    As others were—I have not seen
    As others saw—I could not bring
    My passions from a common spring—
    From the same source, I have not taken
    My sorrow—I could not awaken
    My heart to joy at the same tone—
    And all I loved—I loved alone—
    Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
    Of a most stormy life—was drawn
    From every depth of good and ill
    The mystery which binds me still—
    From the torrent, or the fountain—
    From the red cliff of the mountain—
    From the sun that ‘round me roll’s
    In its autumn tint of gold—
    From the lightning in the sky
    As it passed me flying by—
    From the thunder, and the storm—
    And the cloud that took the form
    (When the rest of Heaven was blue)
    Of a demon in my view—

    Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/alone-by-edgar-allan-poe

     

    “Writing com Dew Drop-In” “- April 5—Potential Mistake

     

    There have been many times
    In my life
    When I think back
    On the past
    Thinking that was a mistake
    Or a potential mistake
    If I had gone another path
    But in the end
    It does matter
    The past is the past
    The future is not yet here
    All we have is today
    We should find
    Love and happiness
    It is all around us
    Waiting for us
    To discover

    April 6th Command or Challenge “Writing com Dew Drop in Prompt

    Challenges of Being Me

    I have had many challenges
    In my life
    It is not easy being me

    For you see
    I am a rather unique person
    I see things my way
    And well the challenge

    This has always been
    How to navigate my way
    Through the world

    Keeping to my unique vision
    Of the way, things ought to be

    The One Thing I Would Never Change Writer Digest Change, Don’t Change Poem Prompt

    If I could go back in time
    And change the past
    Knowing what I know now
    There are many things I would change

    But there is one thing I would not have changed
    Being in Korea in September 1982
    When I met my wife
    For you see
    I had been dreaming
    Of meeting her
    Since that fateful day
    I first fell in love
    With her in my dreams
    In 1974
    So, I had a date
    With fate
    When she came to me
    And became my mate

    The Poetry of the visa Line   Poetry Superhighway Prompt

    “Use poetry to merge creativity and content.” – Kenny White.
    This year, I have seen examples where data science, C++ programming language have been expressed in poetry. Which area of your expertise could you express in poetry?
    Examples –
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLv624w1U14
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zx_Tjp9WIII&t=470s

    Poems from the Visa Line

    I worked for many years
    As a diplomat
    All over the world
    I roamed
    Representing the U.S.G
    Along the way

    It inspired some poetry
    Some published
    Some not

    Being a visa officer
    Was always something
    That was soul-draining

    So difficult
    That it would be hard
    To see the beauty
    In it

    But I found moments
    In which I saw
    Some poetic gems

    After all, I spent hours
    Every day
    Listening to hundreds
    Of stories

    Some of the truth
    Some of them not

    Most were quite interesting
    But I had two minutes
    To decide and move on

    Now that I am retired
    Perhaps I will write
    Some more poetry
    From the visa line

    To be Contiuned in Part Two Poems for April 6 to April 10th

  • More Literary Yard Poems

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    More Literary Yard Poetry

    The literary Yard has published more of my poems.  All of these and subsequence postings will be available on Spotify and elsewhere in a few days as a podcast. They previously published some of my poetry which follows the new poems listed below.

    Index

    2021 Dawns 21 Haiku
    Dear Republicans, What Is Wrong with You?
    The Revolution Next Time
    Zombie Ideas Do Not Die
    There Is A Great Sense of Unrest

    ###

    Dawns 21 Haiku

    2021Dawns
    Politics are still uncertain.
    thousands still are dying.

    2021Dawns
    The New president offers.
    Hope new beginning.

    2021Dawns
    The Madness never ends it seems.
    Consuming us all

    2021Dawns
    The hope springs enterally
    We will overcome.

    2021Dawns
    35,000 lies.
    Fading like ghosts

    2021Dawns
    Politicians still lying.
    Thousands still dying.

    2021Dawns
    Coronavirus spreading
    More corona ghosts.

    2021Dawns
    There is new hope in the air.
    Will politics kill it?

    2021Dawns
    The news stills scream death and despair.
    I turn it all off

    2021Dawns
    As I wake up at dawn
    I see my sleeping wife.

    2021Dawns
    We wait for the coming fires.
    End of the world fears

    2021Dawns
    Q continues to spread hate.
    Millions still follow him.

    2021Dawns
    Will optimism and love?
    Overcome the hate.

    2021Dawns
    Many questions remaining.
    I have no answers.

    2021Dawns
    With hope, I leap out of my bed
    Watching TV kills hope

    2021Dawns
    Will this be the end of my days?
    Will I overcome it?

    2021Dawns
    2020 hangover
    Like a dark nightmare

    2021Dawns
    Politicians still refusing.
    To do anything

    2021Dawns
    The rich are still getting richer.
    The poor remain poor.

    2021Dawns
    We hope the past will fade away.
    Into dark memories

    2021Dawns
    I wake up hoping for the best.
    Dreading worst to come

    2021Dawns
    I am still alive thank god.
    Filled with love for a wife.

    ###

    Dear Republicans, What is Wrong with You?

    Dear Republicans,
    What is wrong with you?
    The former president
    Incited a riot.

    Stormed the house.
    Would have killed you.
    If they could have

    And you still defend.
    The former president
    Refusing to hold him to account?

    Do you want him?
    Running around starting the patriot party
    Launching a jihad against you?

    When you can remove him
    From the game
    And send him home.
    For good

    What the hell is wrong with you
    Just do your job

    Put a stake.
    Through that vampire’s heart
    Kill Trumpism.
    Before it kills you

    ###

    The Revolution Next Time

    A revolution is brewing.
    On the right
    And on the left

    As madness descends on the land
    Incited by right-wing political leaders.

    Inciting riots and rebellion
    Demanding action
    Against their enemies

    While on the left
    Revolution is brewing as well.

    Soon will they unite
    To march down
    Tearing down democracy

    As our leaders
    Play games.
    As the world descends
    Into chaos

    And the US becomes
    Another failed state

    Until a proverbial man
    On a white horse
    Rides in to save us.
    From ourselves

    The revolution next time
    It will not be pretty.
    As everything burns
    And America dies

    ###

    Zombie Ideas Do Not Die

    Zombie Ideas
    Do not die.
    They linger on
    In our collective minds
    Infecting our politics

    Among my favorites
    Are the canard.
    That tax cuts will solve all problems.
    That deregulation will free up business.
    That the free market will solve our problems

    That the government is the problem
    And we must starve the government.
    Of funds
    So, it can do no more harm.
    To our great country

    These and other pernicious
    Fact free alternative facts
    Are spread far and wide.
    Across the right-wing media sphere

    Infecting our politicians
    Leading them to playing games
    Instead of coming together.
    To solve our collective problems

    And now the Republicans are saying.
    Amid the worst epidemic in history
    With the US economy slipping into the great depression era
    The US cannot afford to spend any more money.
    On combatting the pandemic
    That the Federal government has done enough
    It is up to the states to solve their problem.

    Because of deficit spending
    Which they did not care about
    Before the change in command

    Now the federal government is broke.
    But we cannot ask the billionaire class.
    To pay a dime more in taxes
    We need to cut taxes more.

    So, we go.
    These zombie ideas
    Mutating and spreading
    Infecting our politics
    With madness

    Making it impossible to govern
    As things fall apart

    Let us put a Death.
    to zombie ideas
    Put a stake through them.
    Opening up the truth

    Coming together
    To do the people’s business
    That is what we must all do.

    ###

    There is a Great Sense of Unrest.

    There is a great sense.
    Of unrest in the land today
    Madness in the air

    Previous publication (2020)

    Literary Yard has just published my Dog Poems. The earlier published my Cosmic Calendar poems.  Here they are for your amusement.  these are companion pieces for my cat poems.

    dog’s life

    Ten New Poems

    Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

    Cats Truly alien species?

    Cosmos Joins Instagram Poets

    Cats

    Dog Poems

    It’s a Dog’s Life for Me

     

     

     

     

     

    I’d like to come back
    In my next life
    As a dog

    A dog’s only worry
    Is its next meal

    All it has to do
    Is wag its tail

    And look cute
    And someone will feed him
    And give him water

    A dog has no worries
    No cares at all

    And when a Dog
    Wants some loving

    All it needs to do
    Is find the nearest
    Female dog
    And enjoy himself

    Without guilt
    And without worrying
    About getting married
    Or having an affair

    Just simple
    Sex in the doggie way
    Nothing simpler
    Than that

    Yes
    A dog’s life
    Is the life for me?

    ###

    The Dogs of War are Howling

     

     

    dogs of war poster
    dog of war poster

     

     

     

     

     

    The Dogs of War
    Have been set free
    Of their cage
    And are out
    Howling at the moon

    The Dogs of War
    Have been set free
    To wreck what havoc
    Might be

    Yes, the Dogs of War
    The Hell Hounds
    Have bound out of their cages
    Sniffed about
    And smiled

    At the destruction, they saw
    They knew soon
    They would be in their element
    As the world descends into chaos

    The world saw
    The face of pure evil
    That fine September morning

    A morning like any other morning
    Until a fateful moment
    When two planes
    Came out of the sky
    And destroyed
    The center of world capitalism

    In an act of horrific violence
    An act of such evil
    That is beyond the comprehension
    Of mere mortal man

    Surely there must
    Be a reason why
    That particular day
    The world almost ended

    The Dogs of war
    Are at foot

    The chaos is upon us
    The evil grows and grows
    And dark noises are heard
    Here and there

    A Jehad had been launched
    By the holly lunatics
    Misguided warriors
    Who thought they were fighting
    The great Satan

    Not knowing that their hearts and minds
    Were corrupted and controlled
    By Satan himself

    Somewhere in the world
    That morning
    A door opened

    And a man walked through
    Flipped a switch

    And let loose
    The chaos that ensured

    The world watched with horror
    And fascination

    As in real-time
    A dynamite action movie unfolded

    Only this was not any movie, punk
    It was real life
    Live and uncensored

    With the music of the devil
    Playing at full volume
    As people died
    Burning alive

    And the dogs of war
    Smiled
    They knew soon
    They would be in their element

    As America
    The Sleeping Giant
    Again woke up

    And realized
    That they would have to fight back
    Against their enemies

    The war machine
    Came to life
    The plans came out of the books
    The military might be unleashed

    And the Dogs of war
    Smiled and howled at the moon

    The machinery of war
    Once unleashed
    Can’t easily be stopped

    There is a certain cruel logic
    That demands that the war going on
    And people die
    And people suffer
    And the stock market crashes

    And the evil that men do
    Goes on and on and on

    ###

    The Cosmic Dog from Goa

     

     

     

     

     

     

    My final time with God
    Happened a year later
    I was staying down in Goa
    With my wife

    Enjoying being with her
    After our reconciliation
    We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa

    Living like Kings and Queen
    Just for a few days
    High up on a hill
    Overlooking the beach

    Every morning I went down to the beach
    And did yoga by the water
    While contemplating life

    And every morning
    I saw the same dog

    Not just a dog
    But a cosmic dog
    Filled with the divine spark of God

    And the dog recognized me
    And spoke to me and I knew
    That God was present once more
    In the face of that cosmic dog

    Kindred spirit
    perhaps to the cosmic cat
    that had saved my soul
    in Berkeley so long ago

    I told the dog everything
    And he just looked at me
    With those soulful eyes of his

    And I knew he knew that I knew
    That he was possessed by God

    God had sent him to me
    To make sure

    that I was on the right path

    That the reconciliation that God had promoted
    Was on a track that I was back with my wife
    And that everything was the way it should be

    Again, I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah
    Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

    God the cosmic dog just stared at me
    I finally asked him directly

    Say if you are God the God of Jesus
    Bark once

    The Dog looked at me and barked

    I said

    well, if you are Allah bark twice
    The dog barked twice
    Well are you buddha

    then bark three times if yes
    The god dog barked three times

    Hmm well are you Satan
    The dog growled at me
    And I knew I had gone too far

    Finally, I was at peace
    And for the next three days

    The God Dog from Goa

    was my constant companion
    And I knew God for the final time
    In my life?

    ###

    Agnostic Dyslectic Wonders if There is a Dog

     

    cute dog
    cute dog

     

     

     

     

    an agnostic dyslectic
    stays up all night
    wondering if there is a dog

    the Buddhists wonder
    about the Buddha-nature of the dog

    the evangelicals

    are sure that there is a dog
    and you must follow their dog

    or go to hell
    for following another’s dog

    the Muslims agree
    there is only one dog

    and the dogs
    smile at the foolishness

    of the human race
    of course, there is a dog

    and they are the master race
    as they growl at their owners

    who bow down
    and clean up their mess?

    ###

    I Want a Dog’s Life

    O

     

     

     

    I want a dog’s life
    That’s what I want in my next life
    A dog needs to be cute
    And his master will feed him
    It is a dog’s life for me

    ###

    The Messenger Dog of God

     

     

     

     

     

    One day
    While studying in Rome
    As a priest
    I notice a small white dog
    Staring at me

    He glances at me
    Indicating that I am to follow him
    I get up
    And follow this strange dog

    He leads me deep
    Inside the hidden depths
    Of the Vatican
    Finally stopping by a door

    I open the door
    And see St Peter there
    He smiles
    Dismisses the dog

    Who moves on down the hall
    Finished with his cosmic duty
    As the secret messenger of God
    All in a day’s work?

    I ask why I am here?
    St Peter says
    Why are any of us here?
    It is time for you to go

    But I don’t want to go
    Don’t want to leave this mortal plane
    St Peter smiles
    Says it is time to go

    I wake up
    Back in my bed
    With my wife
    And realize it was all a dream

    It was not yet time
    To go
    But I am afraid
    I will find the messenger dog

    Outside my door
    Any day now
    The grim reaper waits
    And it will soon be my time

    Poem: Cosmos’s Cosmic Calendar

    cosmic calendar
    cosmic calendar

     

    January

    January arrives cold as death warmed over
    As I make my annual list of resolutions
    Of the great things, I would do
    The lies I tell myself to keep me going

    While recovering from the hangover of the year before
    With regrets for the evitable passing of time itself

    And snowbound cold nights of wild passion
    As we delay death’s knocking on the door

    February

    February is a strange month
    Cold, short, and eventful

    In the U.S. The political season heats up
    As politicians rush about
    Making their campaign lies
    Full of promises of things to come

    As we the 99 % huddle down inside
    Watching the lies on TV
    Outside Winter’s last dying breath

    March

    March roars in full of sound and furry
    Signifying the future marching down upon us all

    And March madness hits the sports world
    And politicians meet to plot and scheme

    As we bravely battle the cosmic elements
    Waiting for the promised spring
    Hay fever greets me
    With the early spring flowers

    April

    April is indeed the cruelest month of all
    So many important events occurred
    Kim Il Sung’s Birthday, Hitler’s Birthday

    And in the U.S. the dreaded tax man cometh
    To take it all away as the flowers overwhelm

    And Spring Fever takes hold
    Driving us all mad
    With strange erotic desires

    May

    May is in many ways
    My second favorite month of all

    The flowers are blooming bright
    The mountains are aflame with desire
    The summer heat is coming

    The plans for the year are coming along
    The political campaigns heat up

    And good movies come out
    Star Wars arrived
    Spiderman and superman and batman

    All came out to play
    In late May
    And baseball begins in earnest

    And most importantly
    My wife was born

    June

    June is always a month of transition
    End of the school year
    Summer transfer season
    People leaving people coming

    Hurricanes and Tornados attacking
    And wars starting and people dying

    As fireflies buzz about
    And rabbits eat my garden

    As the summer heat descends upon the land
    I walk late at night

    Recalling that Watergate
    Occurred in June

    July

    July is the queen of the summer season
    As she heats the land
    Throwing storm after summer storm

    And politicians run away
    After the July fourth fireworks

    Man landed on the moon
    Richard Nixon Left the White House

    And we all know that half the year
    Has flown by

    August

    So much has happened
    During the hottest most hellish of months
    Despite the summer sauna that descends upon the land
    Enervating all driving people mad with the heat

    World War 1 started
    World War 11 ended

    Hiroshima ushered in the nuclear age

    Hurricanes Katrina and Harvey
    And tornado ally
    All roar down upon the land

    And I met the love of my life
    Getting off a bus
    One August evening

    September

    What can one say about September
    Like June a month of transitions?

    And one is filled with ambition
    Wanting to finish up what one started
    Before the fall arrives
    And Winter is hinting it is coming

    School starts
    New jobs start
    New people come into one’s life

    And like August’s hangover
    Big earth-shattering events happen

    The fall of the stock market
    The housing bubble bursting

    The endless budget games
    As the politicians argue
    Whether to bankrupt the country
    To make a political point or two

    And 9-11 terrorizing the world
    All September’s gifts to the land

    October

    October is my favorite month of all
    The leaves turn
    The weather is usually delightful

    Just a tease of the coming winter
    Fall ball season underway
    Baseball games and Halloween madness
    ends the month with a huge bang

    And I celebrate my legal birth on the 29th
    Also, the day I legally got married

    And on October 30, 1955

    I was born
    And Rock n Roll was born as well
    Coincidence I think not

    November

    November is one of the strange months
    Begins like a hangover of October
    Then it turns ugly and weird

    Political fever hits the land
    Every two years

    As the people brave the early November chill
    To decide what fools they will send to DC
    The politicians lie and scheme and plot
    And beg and lie again

    And the world turns
    And the new leaders emerge

    Welcome the new Bosses
    Same as the old bosses
    Just new packaging

    And Donald Trump storms the barricades
    Threatening the establishment’s stranglehold
    On America and the world

    Yes, November is a strange month

    December

    Perhaps the loneliness month of all
    The most consequential of all the months
    And yet also the most depressing end of time
    Kind of month

    If the apocalypse zombie or otherwise
    Were to occur
    It would be in December
    That is the sort of insane month it is

    The end of the year
    As darkness settles down on the land

    And holiday parties abound
    Full of false cheer
    And faked love

    And for those who don’t celebrate Christmas
    A lonely day perhaps at the movies
    A few awkward calls to the relatives

    Then New Years
    Watching the world end
    Drinking up a storm

    And knowing that the year ended
    And you are one step closer to the grave

    Falling rain

    falling rain
    falling rain

     

     

     

     

     

    The falling rain
    Of late October
    Fills me with essential dread

    As I rush about
    And end up here
    Wherever here is

    The rain outside
    Seems like the tears of god

    As I sit
    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love
    And failed dreams

    Wondering
    What went wrong?
    And what I can set right

    And the rain falls
    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling
    All over this man’s world

    And the rain falls
    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink
    Lost in dreams

    Dreaming of what
    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts
    And so I sit
    And dream the night away

    the End

     

  • Cosmos 2020  April Poetry Part Two

    Cosmos 2020 April Poetry Part Two

    Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part Two April 16 to April 30

    final  statistics for the month – 165  poems  written , most  posted here or in  part one.  Enjoy comments welcomed

    Note:  for the rest of the month, from April 18th to April 30, I will still be writing a lot of poems, but only posting a few per day so i can build up some “unpublished” poems for my future submissions.  And in May-June I will be turning to editing my novels so expect a less frantic pace of poetry updates from me for the next few months.  it has been a creative challenge keeping up the pace but I am getting a bit “poemed” out.  i will list the poems I write this month in the index and note whether they are posted or not, and of course if anyone wants to read one of the “unpublished poems” we can work something out.  just ask. and expect a few more postings in May and June as poems are published elsewhere I will post them here as well as I like doing.

    Finally if anyone wants to guest post poems on cats, computers, coffee or the corona virus let me know – I’d love to try publishing your work as well but check out my cats, computer, coffee or corona poems here first before sending me your stuff, and perhaps you could return the favor?

    thanks

    Jake Cosmos Aller

    Incheon  near Seoul, South Korea

     

    2017 April Poems

    April 2018 Poems 

    April 2019 Poems

    Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part One

    Corona Virus Poems

    every day I turn on the news published

    Christian Right on Corona

    Corona Virus Pandemic Thoughts

    Welcome to Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry. This is the fourth attempt to do this.  For this year I am doing things a bit different.  Since I am in Korea I will be posting a day later from here starting April 2 which will be April first in the  U.S.First I will update my poems daily here (along with audio clips, photos clips, and links to various prompts etc)

    Second I will update my links on the following sites where I have been posting poetry for some time – all my April poems will be here regardless of whether I post them elsewhere – I will be posting one to two per day on these sites and writing anywhere from two to five per day, with many of them not being posted at all so I can accumulate some “unpublished poems” but I will list them all here either as posted or unposted. The posted ones will have audio, photos and links occasionally to other sites.

    Here are the sites along with the links to my poetry posted there.

    All Poetry

     Cosmos Funnel

    Comma ful

    NaPoWrMo National Poetry Month contest like the NaNoWrMo novel contest in the fall, they will have  daily prompt as well

    Poetry super highway will also be doing a daily prompt

    Poetry Soup

    You and others can see your poems on your PoetrySoup poetry page here:
    https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=79587

    Poetry Nook

    https://www.poetrynook.com/user/jake-aller

    ‘Poetry Circle

    https://poetrycircle.com/forum/members/jakecosmos.6777

    Hello Poetry

    https://hellopoetry.com/jakecaller/

    Poetry Magnum Opus

    http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/profile/2575-jakecaller/

    Sweek

    https://sweek.com/profile/1104315/74088

    Writing.com

    https://www.writersdigest.com/

    Writer’s digest daily prompts

    And on my various FB poetry sites will post my poems on five different sites per day and since I’ve lost count of how many I am following well that could be a lot, but I will list them as I post on them in case anyone is interested in finding poetry and writing groups on FB

    Finally, love to hear how others are coping both with corona virus, and with the April Poetry month.  I suspect that there will be a lot of interest this year since people are staying home!

    Now let’s get to the poems shall we?  I will update this daily

    Index

    Chronological list

    ursday April 16

    Some parts of me craves a hard won miracl

    Thursday April 16

    Some parts of me craves a hard won miracle  poetry super highway prompt
    the greatest mystery of my life writing com daily dew drop in
    my greatest comfort food is coffee tweeter poetry prompt
    smoothie tweeter poetry prompt
    mango madness tweeter poetry prompt
    Bulgar is not one of my things tweeter poetry prompt
    Plans tweeter poetry prompt
    goat meets Pig  all poetry contest
    waiting for death  all poetry contest
    hot coffee in the morning fan story

    Friday April 17

    You are my Lode Star love Sonnet
    another Nigerian spam found poem
    Last Day of America writers digest prompt – last blank

    Plane, Train or Automobile – none of us can escape our fate
    packages tweeter speak poetry prompt April 16 Packages
    computer madness sonnet – sonnet all poetry computer frustration contest
    You have always been my sunshine love sonnet for all poetry contest on prompt line Sunshine Kissed

    Not Posted

    my Mother’s secret life as a mad poet  – poetry superhighway prompt to write a poem based on your mother’s imagined journal writings

    Saturday April   18

    Starting today will post no more than five poems, reserve the rest for publication or remain unpublished

    For Posting

    Cosmic Debris  Corona Sonnet
    No More Ties for Me!  Writing com Daily Dew Drop Inn to write about a piece of clothing
    Korean Blues Crown of Sonnets – Writer digest prompt write an exotic poem wrote my first crown of sonnet form too, and it mostly rhymes! go figure

    Not for Posting  today may remain unpublished

    Corona Consumes Me  Corona Sonnet  3
    God Deals with Corona
    Seeing Reality Via Them
    Problems with the Bible Chapter two of Genesis
    Dear God – Please re-write the bible -poetry Superhighway prompt re-write sacred text version 2

    Sunday April 19

    for posting

    General Corona Leads His Troops Into Battle, crown of sonnets
    Voice Message for God – writer digest prompt write a “message Poem” so this is a voice mail to GOD
    The Time when she came to Me Poetry Superhighway prompt to write a poem about time travel to your past or your future

    Not for Posting

    Dear President Trump
    Christ Comes Back and Judges us all

    Monday April 20

    for posting

    Love Dream Triolet
    National Poetry Month Prompt Day 12
    ARC Pensively three word challenge – ARC, Hold, Back
    Lonely Old Man Howling at the Moon Writers Digest prompt use six words prompt – bump, embrace, fixture, howl, lonely, resolve
    watching the President haunts my nightmares
    poetry superhighway prompt write about a nightmare
    boogey men in The Mist
    content tracing, “the mist” unpublished poem writer for April Poetry Month 2020, based on the Mist TV Services based on the Stephen King

    Not for Posting hold for publication

    playing basketball Beneath the Lunatic Moon =creative talents unleashed prompt
    Sprouts of Love Grows in My Dreams -creative talents unleashed prompt
    ART Calms the Soul amid the corona death -creative talents unleashed prompt
    Strange Findings at a Thrift Shop/Garage shop -creative talents unleashed prompt

    NOT FOR PUBLICATION

    Siblings I wish I had -creative talents unleashed prompt

    Tuesday April 21

    Posted

    Isolation Blues writer’s digest  Isolation Blues
    You’re still a young man
    Coffee Star Selvin writing com formal poem
    My Life’s Drama  writing com dew drop inn prompt
    Covid19 Heroes  all poetry contest
    I never get tired of looking at you all poetry contest
    Alone  corona sonnet  creative talents unleashed prompt
    Last Acorn – poetry soup contest entry

    not posted

    Farmers Market
    Tweet speak the farmer’s market
    Walking in the woods in the corona era  creative talents unleashed prompt
    Unrequited Love Story  creative talents unleashed prompt
    perfect brunch menu  creative talents unleashed prompt
    White Flower of Love  creative talents unleashed prompt

    Wednesday April 22

    Posted

    Secret Love of Sheep – pensively 101 three word prompt, print, cover, sheep
    Nigerian Bank Scam found poem
    She came to me in a dream duet writers digest prompt
    ode to morning coffee National Poetry Month prompt
    oceans writing.com Daily Dew Drop Inn prompt
    Noise of the news Drives Out Spring Poetry Superhighway
    Cats and Dogs Contrapuntal Poem All Poetry contest
    Let there Be Light All poetry contest
    Go ethnic tweets-peak

    Tuesday April 23

    Isolation Blues writer’s digest  Isolation Blues
    You’re still a young man
    Coffee Star Selvin writing com formal poem
    My Life’s Drama  writing com dew drop inn prompt
    19 Heroes  all poetry contest
    I never get tired of looking at you all poetry contestAlone  corona sonnet  creative talents unleashed prompt

    not posted

    Farmers Market
    Tweet speak the farmer’s market
    Walking in the woods in the corona era  creative talents unleashed prompt
    Unrequited Love Story  creative talents unleashed prompt
    perfect brunch menu  creative talents unleashed prompt

    Wednesday April 24

    Secret Love of Sheep – pensively 101 three word prompt, print, cover, sheep
    Nigerian Bank Scam found poem
    She came to me in a dream duet writers digest prompt
    ode to morning coffee National Poetry Month prompt
    oceans Daily Dew Drop Inn prompt
    Noise of the news Drives Out Spring Poetry Superhighway
    Cats and Dogs Contrapuntal Poem All Poetry contest
    Let there Be Light All poetry contest
    Go ethnic tweetspeak

    Thursday April   25

    Programing a VCR and other terrors
    Na/GloPOWR/Mo prompt Day 18
    Quirk of fate
    writers digest prompt to write a quirk  poem
    I have bad teeth
    poetry super highway prompt to write a confession poem about something you should do but have not done
    Letter to My Past Self
    writing.com Daily Dew Drop inn Prompt
    pensively 101 prompt three word challenge path, honesty, remote
    Covid madness sweeps through the world  all poetry contest

    Friday April   26

    Cold Winter Day pensively prompt
    social distancing walking in the Springtime writers digest prompt to write a social blank poem
    ode to my book shelves filled with unread books, poetry superhighway prompt to write a poem in plain sight
    Dream Lover Balwa writing com formal poetry prompt
    endless arguments with my brothers writing com daily dew drop inn prompt to write a poem about arguments
    Just Shoot me – pensively 101 three wood challenge
    wrappers – tweets-speak
    Pumpkin season – pumpkin tweet-speak
    secret layers tweets-speak

    Saturday April 26

    Finally I wake
    Window of Promise – Tweet speak daily prompt
    Nature’s Bounty Awaits Me
    Alone  No More
    Has God Anointed Donald Trump as our leader?
    waking at love Haiku

    Sunday April 27

    Drinking Coffee amid the morning flowers
    Pensively 101 prompt bloom, switch, chain
    Stem – tweeter speak
    Playing Bach to Calm the Mind and Soul – National Poetry Month Prompt
    President Trump You are the Annotated One – found poems from right wing Christians  – Crown of Sonnets  -writers digest remix poem
    My Computer Hates Me – Poetry Superhigh way prompt objects speak
    Darkness Descends – All Poetry Contest
    The Grim Reaper Smiles All Poetry Contest

    Monday April 28

    Her Love Shines throughout the day -version two for poetry superhighway
    Cosmos’s total Information Awareness
    Living in an Orwellian Nightmare
    Poetic and other inspirations
    National Poetry Month Daily Prompt
    Changes are coming due -writing digest prompt
    Rain Fall in the Springtime Daily Dew Drop Inn
    General Corona is coming for us all Poetry Magnum Prompt -content tracing “Howl” by Allen Ginsberg

    Bonus Poem

    I am writing to let you know

    published in Active Muse http://www.activemuse.org/2020_Open_Poems/Jake_Aller.html

    Tuesday April 28

    The Presidents Sits Down on his Naked Rump -Pensively 101 three word challenge, teeth, Rump, green
    End of Winter tweet-speak prompt
    massive piles of meat -writers digest prompt to write a “massive “ poem
    three mad poems of desire – poetry super highway prompt
    Love Sidlak – writing com formal poetry challenge
    come on baby light my fire -writing com daily dew drop inn prompt to write a “fire” Poem

    Not Posted

    Stupid stuff done as a teenage -On stealing things national Poetry Month Prompt
    Art of Eating – tweet speak
    Rules creative talents unleashed
    My Feet Take Me There creative talent unleashed
    Happy walking in the woods Tanka walking in the woods creative talents unleashed
    Sad women inside the camera’s lens creative talents unleashed

    Wednesday April 29

    Looking Back on the Date when I met my Fate
    writers digest looking back poem prompt
    the funeral for a mad queen -Poetry Superhighway prompt
    the End of America, another cosmos’s rant found poem thanks to William Walton
    Gaia Welcomes Us – found poem poetic rant -thanks to William Walton
    flowers for my love – National Poetry Day Prompt
    seasons of my love – tweet-speak prompt – write a seasonal poem

    Thursday April 30

    Have words lost all meaning?
    plate plans -tweet-speak daily April Prompts
    Slide, Catch, Shot -Pensitivity 101 prompt
    total Success- writers digest prompt total blank poem
    Blues Brothers medley found poem -poetry Superhighway prompt
    Will always recall the date I met my fate all poetry contest
    general Corona is Happy all poetry contest
    waterfall of love poetry soup contest
    last Entry for May – pensively prompt 101
    baby I got the blues found poem thanks to William Walton
    praise love of my life – writers digest prompt
    things better left unsaid
    random rhymes writing com prompt
    things to resolve before I die – poetry super highway prompt

    bonus poem – corona virus haiku – Published Poetry Ni

    Begin Poems

    Th

    e

    corona
    corona

    some parts of me
    craves a hard won miracle
    in these dark dire times

    I even start to pray
    to a god who may not exist
    or answer my prayers

    yes we need a miracle
    a deus ex machina to sweep down
    and send the virus back to hell

    a miracle to calm
    the dark storms
    swirling around us

    a miracle
    to end this virus madness
    and restore normal life

    nothing short
    but a miracle
    will do

    Poetry superhighway prompt – Some parts of me craves a hard won miracle

    the greatest mystery of my life

    dreams and the Unexplanable
    dreams and the Unexplanable

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    the greatest mystery
    of my life
    remains how I met my wife
    I first dreamt of her

    back in the day
    every week she came to me
    speaking to me
    in a weird language

    then one day
    eight years later
    she walked off a bus
    and into my life

    and to this day
    I have no rational explanation
    as to How I dreamt
    about her for eight years

    I can only conclude
    that we knew
    each other
    in a prior life

    and our love crossed
    the barriers of time
    and space
    until that date

    we were doomed to meet
    for on that date
    so many years ago
    I met my fate

    writing com Daily Dew Drop Inn

    my greatest comfort food is coffee

    coffee
    coffee

    My greatest comfort food
    is a hot cup of coffee
    early in the morning

    I pound down my coffee
    and unleash my inner muse
    inspired by the caffeine

     

    I get to work
    slowly drinking my cup
    of heaven and hell
    my morning cup of Joe

    tweeters speak daily prompt

    blueberry smoothie

    blueberries
    blueberries

    my daily breakfast
    includes blue berries
    in my smoothie

     

     

    blueberry,
    strawberry,
    oranges

    banana,
    pineapple,
    home made kefir

    kale
    spinach
    wheat grass
    macca root
    apple cider vinegar

    coconut oil
    stevia
    honey
    cinnamon

    all blended to perfection
    that is my daily breakfast
    fit for a champion

    tweeter speak prompt

    mango madness

     

    mango
    mango

    the best mangos
    I ever had
    were in India

    in the early spring
    mango madness
    spreads across India

    as mangos are in season
    and mangos are everywhere
    on every menu

    so sweet
    so fragrant
    so magical

    mango madness
    takes over
    my soul

    as I eat my mango
    dreaming mango dreams

    tweeter speak

    Bulgar is not one of my things

     

    Bulgur-Bourghul-Burghul-Bulgar.jpg_350x350
    Bulgur-Bourghul-Burghul-Bulgar.jpg_350x350

    Bulgar is not one of my things
    Unless there is nothing left to eat
    Like nothing at all
    Get that bulgar off my plate
    All i want is anything else
    Raw bulgar just does not do it for me

    tweeter speak

    Plans

    Close up coffee cup with heart latte art on table
    Close up white coffee cup with heart shape latte art on wood table at cafe.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    every morning I wake up
    filled with great plans
    I sit
    drink my coffee

    make my plans
    lost in my thoughts
    focused on the plan
    endless to do lists

    then life happens
    and my plans
    go awry
    thrown out the window

    At the end of the day
    a man without a plan
    is a man
    lost in inner space

     

    Year of the Goat Meets Year of the Pig

     

    cute pig
    cute pig

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I was born in the year of the goat
    my wife
    was born in the year of the pig
    a perfect match

    according to Buddhist fortune tellers
    a man born in the year of the goat
    loves luxury and loves spending money

    while a woman born
    in the year of the pig
    is a genius at making money

    the man enjoys the wealth
    his pig wife creates
    for his enjoyment
    and that is the perfect match

    and so it has been for us
    as I enter my 65th birth year
    I find myself richer
    than I ever thought I would be

    richer
    than the legendary Cronus
    richer
    than Midas himself

    way more money
    than  I could ever use
    all because I married
    a golden pig

    all poetry horoscope contest

    waiting for death

    hopelessly
    we all stand looking about
    waiting for our death

    all poetry fragment haiku contest

    hot coffee in the morning

    coffee
    coffee

    hot
    coffee in morning
    gets my blood moving
    takes me to heaven then crashes to hell

    fan story contest

    Friday April 17  –

    You are my Lode Star

    in the morning dawning light
    you are always there
    you are my lode star
    my sunshine, my moonshine
    the love of my life, my wife
    with your endless love
    I will face the evil corrupted world
    even walk through the shadow of death
    as long as you by my side
    I will fear no evil for you are with me
    and I will love you
    until death takes me
    from your your loving embrace

    note: an attempted sonnet

    another Nigerian spam found poem

    the Nigerians keep sending me
    and millions of others
    delightedly creative spam messages
    this is one of the nicer ones
    I have received

    Enjoy
    but don’t send her any money!!!!!

    Good day Child of God,
    Calvary Greetings
    in the name of the LORD Almighty
    and Our LORD JESUS CHRIST
    the giver of every good thing.

    Good day and compliments of the seasons,
    i know this letter
    will definitely come to you
    as a huge surprise,

    I humbly
    ask you to give me
    your attention
    and hear me,

    i am writing this mail
    to you
    with heavy sorrow
    in my heart,

    but I implore you
    to take the time
    to go through it  carefully

    as the decision you make
    will go off a long way
    to determine
    my future
    and continued existence.

    I am Mrs. Esther Heidi
    aging widow of 61 years old
    suffering from long time illness.

    I have some funds
    I inherited from my late husband
    , the sum of ($17 Million Dollars) a

    And I needed a very honest
    and God fearing
    who can withdraw this money
    then use the funds for Charity works

    I WISH TO GIVE THIS FUNDS
    TO YOU FOR CHARITY WORKS.

    I found your email address
    from the internet
    after honest prayers
    to the LORD
    to bring me a helper

    and i decided to contact you
    if you may be willing
    and interested to handle
    these trust funds in good faith

    before anything happens to me.
    I accept this decision
    because I do not have any child
    who will inherit this money
    after I die.

    I want your urgent reply
    to me so that I will give you
    the deposit receipt

    which the bank issued to me
    as next of kin
    for immediate transfer of the money
    to your account in your country,

    to start the good work of God,
    I want you to use the 30/percent
    of the total amount to help
    yourself in doing the project.

    I am desperately
    in keen need of assistance
    and I have summoned
    up courage to contact you

    for this task,
    you must not fail me
    and the millions of the poor people
    in our todays WORLD.

    This is no stolen money
    and there are no dangers involved,
    100% RISK FREE
    with full legal proof.

    Please if you would be able
    to use the funds for the Charity

    (Note: I would use the money
    to invest in the Church of Jake)
    I want you to
    take 30 percent of the total money

    for your personal use
    while 70% of the money
    will go to charity.

    I will appreciate your utmost confidentiality
    and trust in this matter to accomplish
    my heart desire, as I don’t want anything

    that will jeopardize my last wish.
    Please kindly
    respond for further details.

    Thanks and God bless you,

    Regards

    Mrs. Esther Heidi

    comment: the sad reality
    is that 10 percent
    of people fall for these scams
    and loose lots of money
    whole towns in Nigeria
    exist to exploit the world
    they call themselves
    the 404 army
    if it is too good to be true
    it is probably not true

    end comment

    the Conqueror Worm Corona Sonnet

    Lo, t’s a galla night
    within the lonesome later years
    when around the world
    the dreaded corona virus showed its might
    spending fear to those in their later years
    that it might take them in the night
    that before the sun came up
    their time on earth would end up
    DEATH IS COMING

    TO US ALL

    NONE CAN ESCAPE

    WE
    AWAIT
    FATE

    # content tracing: the Conqueror Worm By Edgar Allan Poe
    writing.com corona sonnet form challenge

    with apologies to the Ghost of Edgar Allan Poe!!!! May he rest in peace wherever he is

    The Last Day of America

     

    trump
    trump

     

     

     

     

    the last day of America
    was the day we last voted
    the last election we ever had

    for on that day
    a month before
    the corona virus re-emerged

    as the great re-opening
    of the US economy

    failed to stop the relentless spread
    of the virus from hell
    led by General Corona

    causing panic and mass confusion
    fear kept Americans home

    and Donald Trump
    was re-elected
    because his voters
    believed that God
    had told them to vote
    for their new found king

    the newly energized President Trump
    declared a national emergency
    martial law
    and suspension of the constitution

    Promising to restore democracy
    when the time was right

    he promised his followers
    that he would restore Christian values
    renaming the United States
    the Christian States of America

    on that date
    we met our fate

    Christian fascism
    was here to stay
    as the time was never right
    to restore the old Republic

    on the last day
    of American

    writers digest prompt – last blank

    My Mother’s Secret Life as a Mad Poet – not for publication

    Somehow this fragment is the only pages that were left – she encouraged me to write from an early age and she and I loved talking about what we were reading and about politics and life but so much of her inner soul, her inner demons she never told me about then one day dementia took hold and I never was able to find out much about her secret shrouded life and she took a lot of secrets to the grave as did my father. Ultimately I decided not to publish this poem as it is too personal and she had her reasons she did not want to publish any of her writings and after reflection, I decided to honor that so this and many of her other stories will remain with her in the other world.  But I had fun writing it and trying to make her rambling style into something resembling more formal verse.  I took the original steam of consciousness style and forced it into a crown of sonnets eight 14 line free verse non-rhyming sonnets format (is there such a thing?)  for somehow that worked for me. and somehow I think she would have approved of my edited version. I like to think so.

    Plane, Train or Automobile – none of us can escape our fate

     

     

    airplanes
    airplanes

    in these dark and dire times
    we find ourselves living

    we often fear that the times
    are infected with death

     

     

     

    and so we are afraid
    deathly afraid
    that if we take a plane

    we will find General   Corona
    among the passengers

    and we be afraid
    deadly afraid

    that the subways
    are incubators
    of death and destruction

    the virus spreads
    fear and death
    in its wake

    many of us
    retreating to our homes
    and venturing out
    in our cars

    only to find
    death is stalking us
    as traffic piles up

    traffic accidents
    still killing more people
    that the dreaded General Corona

    the grim reaper smiles
    his work is done

    Satan thanks General Corona
    for a job well done

    awarding him a Satanic
    medal of freedom
    Hell’s highest honor

    writing com daily dew drop in prompt

    packages

    they say
    that God works in mysterious ways
    his wonders to perform

    every day it seems
    that more and more
    of what we buy
    and consume

    comes in packages
    sent from here and there
    as people
    continue to practice
    social distancing

    and going to the store
    becomes an exercise
    fraught with peril
    and danger

    so we order
    on-line
    and we get our packages
    sent from here and there

    one day we received
    a gift package
    of clams
    delicious fresh clams

    as I ate them
    I thought of the workers
    who had labored unseen
    for me to enjoy
    this bounty from the sea

    and I gave thanks
    to the gods
    for making it happen
    in this day and age

    we should thank
    those who are still
    laboring to feed the world

    they are the unsung heroes
    of this war fought by nature
    under the direction
    of General Corona

    tweeter speak poetry prompt April 16 Packages

    computer madness sonnet

    evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview
    evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview

     

     

     

     

     

     

    computer madness infects my soul
    every day when I turn on my PC
    and encounter endless  haiku error messages
    constant crashing, constant eating my files
    at times like this it seems to me
    that my mad as a hatter crazed computer
    is plotting against me and only me
    it wants to drive me quite insane
    sending me right around the bend
    as I scream at my machine
    it beeps at me this damn machine
    smiling as I threaten once again
    to shoot the hell bound machine

    sonnet all poetry computer frustration contest

    You have always been my sunshine

     

    You have always been my sunshine
    my moonshine, my load star
    that guides me in the night
    for your sunshine kissed my soul
    the day that you walked
    out of my dreams
    into my life
    and became my wife
    for 38 years and counting
    every morning I see you sleeping
    your smile is like the sunshine
    that wakes my soul
    and banishes the nightmares
    back to the dark corners of my mind

    love sonnet for all poetry contest on prompt line Sunshine Kissed

    mad computer haiku

    mad computer
    computer wants to kill me
    or drive me insane

    Fan story haiku contest

    Saturday April 18

    Korean Blues Crown of Sonnets

    I have been dealing with Things Korean
    for almost 40 years now
    dealing with a once exotic land
    now my second homeland
    first came to Korea
    in the Peace Corps in Korea
    went to Korea to find the woman
    in search of the woman
    who haunted my dreams
    met the woman
    Fell in love with the woman
    From Korea who walked out my dreams
    In an land still exotic

    In a land still exotic
    It was a very exotic different land
    and even now decades later a new land
    remains for most Americans
    still a strange land exotic
    but much more known land
    in the US
    due to K drama, K Pop,
    Koreans have become globally cool but still exotic
    Many of my fellow Americans
    may know a few people from Korea
    and some have served or lived in Korea
    but to most of the us Americans
    it remains over there still exotic
    a strange Asian exotic land

    A strange Asian Exotic land
    I fell in love with that exotic land
    now I spend half my time living Korean time
    half in the U.S. time
    and due to the corona time
    will be here for some time
    and well Korea
    no longer an exotic land
    as I am now just living in Korea
    my thoughts half Korean
    and even dream in Korean
    so be it near the end of my time
    I am back where I began

    Writer digest prompt write an exotic poem wrote my first crown of sonnet form too, and it mostly rhymes! go figure

     

    Cosmic Debris Corona sonnet 2

    I received a mysterious email package
    followed by a phone call offering me a magical mask
    a mask that they claim would prevent me
    from the dreaded General Corona
    hey there
    who you jiving with that cosmic debris
    a mask that they did not want me
    me to know about

    TOP   SECRET     CODE         2       LEVEL  STUFF

    MUST    ACT                NOW

    SEND                           MONEY  ASAP

    BUY

    IT

    NOW

    # content tracing-  “Cosmic Debris by Frank Zappa”
    with apologies to Frank Zappa

    Frank Zappa  Cosmic Debris

    The mystery man came over
    And he said I’m outta sight
    He said for a nominal service charge
    I could reach nirvana tonight
    If I was ready, willing and able
    To pay him his regular fee
    He would drop all the rest of his pressing affairs
    And devote his attention to me
    But I said look here brother
    Who you jiving with that cosmik debris?
    Now who you jiving with that cosmik debris?
    Look here brother, don’t waste your time on me
    The mystery man got nervous and he fidget around a bit
    He reached in the pocket of his mystery robe
    And he whipped out a shaving kit
    Now I thought it was a razor
    And a can of foaming goo
    But he told me right then when the top popped open
    There was nothin’ his box won’t do
    With the oil of aphrodite, and the dust of the grand wazoo
    He said you might not believe this, little fella
    But it’ll cure your asthma too
    And I said look here brother
    Who you jiving with that cosmik debris?
    Now what kind of a guru are you, anyway?
    Look here brother, don’t waste your time on me
    (Don’t waste your time)
    I’ve got troubles of my own, I said
    And you can’t help me out
    So, take your meditations and your preparations
    And ram it up your snout
    But I got the crystal ball, he said
    And held it to the light
    So I snatched it, all away from him
    And I showed him how to do it right
    I wrapped a newspaper ’round my head
    So I looked like I was deep
    I said some mumbo-jumbo, then
    I told him he was going to sleep
    I robbed his rings and pocketwatch
    And everything else I found
    I had that sucker hypnotized
    He couldn’t even make a sound
    I proceeded to tell him his future, then
    As long as he was hanging around
    I said the price of meat has just gone up
    And your old lady has just gone down
    Look here brother
    Who you jiving with that cosmik debris?
    Now is that a real poncho or is that a Sears poncho?
    Don’t you know, you could make more money as a butcher?
    So, don’t waste your time on me
    Don’t waste it, don’t waste your time on me (om shanti, om shanti, om shanti, shanti)

    Source: LyricFind
    Songwriters: Frank Zappa
    Cosmik Debris lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

    Frank Zappa performance Cosmic debris 

    No More Ties for Me!

    businessman-black-suit-
    businessman-black-suit-

     

     

    When I retired
    I made three vows
    to myself

    first, I would spend
    my remaining life
    loving my wife

    second, i would never wear a tie again
    unless it was a real special occasion
    as I hated wearing ties and suits

    wore a suit and tie
    almost every day
    of my life

    as a teacher
    later as a foreign service officer
    all over the world

    last year of my job
    I only wore a tie
    on “tie worthy occasions”

    since then I have been
    tie free
    except for a wedding

    and I love it
    hated suits and ties
    just not Berkeley enough

    for my free spirit
    too damn corporate
    and I don’t care anymore

    and in Oregon, where I lived
    no one wore a tie,
    not the Oregon way

    oh the last thing
    I shave twice a month now
    used to hate shaving

    but I also don’t like
    a full shaggy itchy beard
    and I shaved every day

    for years and years
    except when I was in the hospital
    for a year

    and I grew to love
    having a beard
    back then

    back to the office
    started shaving again
    every damn day

    now I do my thing
    no office for me
    and no more daily shaving

    and a beard is also
    very Northern Cal/Northwest
    Oregonian Chic

    so once every two weeks
    is a good compromise
    my beard is now a poet’s face

    and so I hope to keep
    these three vows
    until my time is done

    writing com Daily Dew Drop Inn prompt to write a poem about a piece of clothing

    Corona Consumes Me  Corona Sonnet  3

    corona virus
    corona virus

     

     

     

     

    I am consumed by the corona virus
    and I am slowly being taken over
    as the virus infects my mind

    taking me over turning me
    into a wild raving zombie man
    Let there be light

    will I become the first

    ZOMBIE APOLYCAPASE LOOMS

    WILL WE ALL DIE

    CORONA

    KILLS

    ME

    content tracing – Let there be light from Bible and the entire Zombie Apocalypse genre where the Zombie flu started usually in China as a flu and then morphs into the zombie disease

    Sunday April 19

    General Corona Leads His Troops Into Battle, crown of sonnets

    corona

    the four horsmen
    the four horseman

     

     

     

     

    General Corona leads his forces across the world
    riding on a black horse
    from out of the Apocalypse

    ride the four horsemen
    which are let loose upon the world
    He leads his forces across the world
    into battle as the leader of his evil forces

    The enemy of humanity
    General Corona he does not care
    nor does his virus minions care
    about your nationality he does not care
    about your politics he does not care
    or your wealth or who you are

    for all you are nothing but humanity
    the corona general sees humanity
    the corona general sees humanity
    as nothing but hosts for his virus army

    as nothing but hosts for his virus army
    chanting death to humanity
    until his evil army
    sweeps throughout the world
    throughout the world
    and millions must die

    it is the will of the general all must die
    and it is the end of the world
    or perhaps the beginning of a new world

    filled with hope and love through out the world
    humanity comes alive throughout the world
    fighting back against the virus army
    peace, love and compassion defeats the army
    and general corona will finally himself die

    Voice Message for God

     

    god
    god

     

     

     

     

     

    dialing 202-346-5666  Beep
    You have reached GOD
    Press 1 for English, Press 2 for Spanish
    leave a message or prayer
    and maybe an angel will call you
    will get back to you Beep
    Hey GOD someone sent me your number
    and well I hope I’ve reached your number
    I don’t know where to start that’s the point
    GOD I am scared of you
    all the time is my point
    I am so afraid, so scared
    of the dreaded General Corona
    and his invisible army is my point

    and his invisible army is my point
    forcing me to stay at home
    and I am sacred
    that you anointed the wrong man
    to be our leader, that makes me sacred
    not to second guess you man
    your will be done and all of that man
    but GOD, can’t you do better job my man
    of anointing our leaders to serve under GOD
    of all the people in the U.S. dear God
    this is the best you can do?, man?
    I mean you picked perhaps the one man
    in the world who could be the anti-chris, God

    Seriously GOD what is wrong with you? man
    Seriously, GOD, what is wrong with you? man
    was this all sort of a cosmic joke?
    well it ain’t funny any more ain’t no joke
    Please GOD make it all go away, man
    Please GOD for the love of GOD
    and all that is holly and good, man
    just make it all go away, GOD
    and anoint someone else, man
    a real leader for a change, GOD
    and let him lead us to the promised land
    this I pray in Jesus’s name, my man
    and if I don’t make it, GOD
    We have a lot to talk about GOD
    See you on the other side, my man

    writer digest prompt write a “message Poem” so this is a voice mail to GOD

    Every Day I go Back in Time to when she came to Me

     

    dreams and the Unexplanable
    dreams and the Unexplanable

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    every day I go back in time
    to the two events that changed my life
    to the dream that haunted my life
    and the day she walked into my life
    and became my wife
    I can never forget the dream
    falling asleep in the physics class
    as the teacher was going on and on
    and as I nodded off
    I saw here there
    standing there
    speaking to me
    the most beautiful woman
    in the entire world

    in the entire world
    she was speaking to me
    and disappeared from my dreams
    and I knew that i would be
    meeting her some day she would come to me
    and so I eventually went to Korea other side of the world
    in the Peace corps hoping she would come to me
    then one day i had the last and final dream
    she said don’t worry she would soon come to me
    and then she walked out of my dreams
    and there she was she came to me
    and so she walked out of my dreams
    into my life, became my wife
    when she came to me

    Poetry Superhighway prompt to write a poem about time travel to your past or your future

    Monday April 20

    Love Dream Triolet

    dreams and the Unexplanable
    dreams and the Unexplanable

     

     

    to the woman I met in my dreams
    I dedicate my life
    May she live forever in my cosmic memes
    to the woman I met in my dreams
    I will forever remember her gleams
    and the day she became my wife
    to the woman I met in my dreams
    I dedicate my life

    National Poetry Month Prompt Day 12

    ARC Throws Back the Hood

    Arthur Robert Copper
    aka ARA the notorious international terrorist
    threw back his hood
    and revealed himself
    to be the evil warlord
    that had unleashed
    General Corona on the world
    his goal
    nothing less that total domination
    taking over the world
    amid the total destruction of the world’s economy
    as he and his billionaire buddies
    reamed the profits
    of the total destruction of the world’s economy

    Pensvity 101 prompt use the words ARC Hood and Back

    Lonely Old Man Howling at the Moon

    howling at the moon
    howling at the moon

     

     

     

     

    There was a mad man who bumped his head
    as he  tried to embrace the moon shining through the window
    a fixture in the room lit by the lunatic light of the moon
    the man wanted to howl at reflections of  the lunatic moon
    the old man was a lonely man filled with sadness
    Filled with resolve to join the moon as he died

    Writers Digest prompt use six words prompt –
    bump, embrace fixture, howl, lonely, and resolve

    watching the President haunts my nightmares

     

    trump deaths
    trump deaths

     

     

     

     

     

    every night I have a nightmare
    President Trump is announcing
    that due to the emergency
    he is cancelling the election
    and will rule the land
    as the undisputed leader
    applauded by the Republican leaders
    as he ushers in American fascism
    Millions of people are arrested
    for showing disloyalty to our leader
    and I am one of them
    as I am disappeared
    no one hears my screams
    with the midnight knocking at the door

    Poetry super highway prompt to write about a nightmare

    boogey men in The Mist

    As the mist settles down on the land
    the mist covers us all
    with the scent of death
    madness spreads
    as the mist devours our minds
    nightmares come to life
    ghosts, goblins, demons
    THE  GRIM         REAPER
    RIDES        BEHIND     THE MIST
    KILLING    EVERYONE        IN      THE MIST
    END
    TIMES
    COME
    NOW

    content tracing, “the mist”
    As the mist settles down on the land
    the mist covers us all
    with the scent of death
    unpublished poem written for April Poetry Month 2020, based on the Mist TV Services based on the Stephen King Novel

    Tuesday April 21

    Isolation Blues

    corona virus
    corona virus

     

     

     

     

    During these trying times
    we huddle at home
    afraid to go out
    afraid of the dreaded
    General Corona that is out
    and his evil secret armies
    keeping us all at home
    terrified of becoming a victim
    a corona virus statistic
    what a way to go out
    no way do I want to end my life
    to out out that way
    so we will endure this day
    these isolation blues

    writers digest  Isolation Blues

    You’re still a young man

    Your still a young man  Tower of Power

    tower of power
    was the band
    for me
    back in the day

    the greatest funk band
    of all time
    proudly East Bay Grease
    multi-racial, multi-cultural

    greatest horn section
    of all time
    they did it right

    and their best song
    You’re still a young man
    was the best make out song
    of all time

    best song to slow dance
    with a potential lover
    at a party

    best love song
    of the 70’s
    and I still recall it

    and all the woman
    i danced to the song
    with back in the day

    and I still feel
    that I am still a young man
    with the love of my life
    playing the song
    of my life

    You’re Still a Young Man
    You’re still a young man, baby
    Whoo-ooh, don’t waste your time
    You’re still a young man, baby
    Whoo-ooh, don’t waste your time
    Down on my knees,
    Heart in hand
    I was accused of being too young,
    But I’m not so young
    Can’t you understand
    That I think like a man?
    You’re still a young man, baby
    Whoo-ooh, don’t waste your time
    You’re still a young man, baby
    Whoo-ooh, don’t waste your time
    Back once again,
    Begging you please
    Darling, think twice about me,
    ‘Cause I’m not so bad
    I could make you happy,
    I’m not a mad lad
    If you and I could be together
    (You’re too young to love)
    I’d get to you through any weather
    I love you and I love you only
    I’d never leave you lonely
    You’re too young,…
    Source: LyricFind

    poetry superhighway Prompt to write a poem about a song popular in high school

    Coffee Star Sevlin

     

    coffee
    coffee

    damn hot coffee
    what I need in morning
    yet it leaves me with this warning
    it will lead to nightmares
    as I get ready with hot coffee
    sleep will not come nightmares
    great hot coffee

    writing.com formal prompt

    My Life’s Drama

    My life has been like a drama
    a mad cap romcom drama
    perhaps a K drama
    or a Bollywood drama
    or a Hollywood romcom classic drama
    for you see in my fairy tale drama
    i met the girl of my dreams
    eight years later
    I had the last dream
    she said don’t worry we’ll meet soon
    she walked off the bus that day
    and into my life
    and became my wife

    writing com My Life’s Drama

    Alone

    From childhood’s hour I have not been
    as others were, I have not seen
    as others saw
    in these dark times we live in
    i am afraid of being alone
    dying all alone

    AS     GENERAL CORONA

    SPREADS   HIS   ARMIES

    ALL  OVER         THE WORLD

    I

    DON”T

    WANT

    DIE

    content tracing “Alone” By Edgar Allen Poe

     

    Last Acorn

    Acorn on white background
    Acorn on white background

    the last acorn on earth
    was lonely
    the old oak trees
    were dying

    and humanity was gone

     

     

     

    killed off by the corona virus
    round two
    that erupted out of China
    like a bat out of hell

    killing almost all humans
    and without humans
    well somethings just did not happen
    and the oak trees were abandoned

    and he was the last acorn
    the last of his species alive
    he wept when he realized
    that he would die
    all alone

    poetry soup contest

    Covid19 Heroes

    to all the health care providers
    law enforcement workers
    bus drivers
    grocery clerks
    and other essential workers
    who are working 24/7
    to keep us safe
    there are no words
    for us to express
    our heartfelt thanks
    to the heroes
    that are saving our lives
    24/7 every day

     

    Wednesday April 22

    Secret Love for Sheep

    GOAT
    GOAT

     

     

     

     

     

    one day I had to print
    a cover sheet
    for some poetry
    that I was writing
    about my secret love
    for sheep

    Pensively 101 three word challenge, print, cover, sheep

    Nigerian Scam found poem

    REF:- INSTRUCTION TO CREDIT YOUR ACCOUNT WITH THE SUM OF {US$22Million}
    This is to notify you about your fund valued at US$22,000.000.00

    After due verification and evaluation of your file,
    that was sent to us by the Nigeria Government,
    in conjunction with the Ministry of Finance
    and Central Bank of the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

    This bank received an instruction,
    to see to the immediate release of the sum of
    TWENTY-TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS (US$22Million)
    of your claim that has been in holding

    since it was transferred to your bank Account
    from their Domiciliary Account with this Bank.

    We were made to understand
    from our findings
    That you have been going
    through hard ways

    by passing through difficulties
    to see to the release of
    your fund

    TWENTY-TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS (US$22Million)
    which has been the handwork
    of some miscreant elements
    from that Country.

    We advise,
    that you stop further communication,
    with anyone from anywhere
    concerning your funds,

    you don’t have to pass through any
    difficult to receive your fund,
    as you have met up with the whole
    requirement.

    We know your representatives in Nigeria,
    or anywhere will advise you
    to still go ahead with them,
    which will be at your own risk.

    Your TWENTY-TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS (US$22Million)
    will reflect in your designated Bank account
    within three Bank working days.

    Do not go through anybody again
    but through this Bank. ‘
    if, you really want
    your fund.

    Finally, you are advised
    to re-confirm these to us,

    name, your contact Address,Occupation,
    Age and Telephone for easy
    communication.

    We advise that you get back to us
    with your details on this
    email: enquiryy@citromail.hu

    Yours sincerely,
    Sir. Frank Anthony
    Chief Executive,
    Nat-west Bank London,
    United Kingdom

    She came to me in a Dream

     

     

     

     

    she came to me
    in a dream

    in a dream
    in 1979

    then in 1982
    she walked off a bus

    she walked off a bus
    and into my life

    and into my life
    and became my wife

    and became my wife
    and I thank god

    and I thank god
    every day that she found me

    every day that she found me
    and I will love her

    and I will love her
    until the end of time

    writers digest prompt write a love poem

    based on my true love story for details see ‘deam girls in my blog, https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com

    the noise of the news  drowns out spring

    the noise of the news
    drowning me with fear
    none-stop corona coverage
    and politics galore
    none-stop fear
    the noise continues
    drowning out
    the noise of the spring
    outside my door
    the birds chirping
    the cats flirting
    life beginning
    making me want
    to go outside

    poetry superhighway prompt

    Oceans

    sunrise jpg
    sunrise jpg

     

     

     

     

    I am a creature of oceans
    grew up with the SF bay area
    at my feet

    never far from my home
    lived inland in Stockton
    for four years
    also in Ohio

    did not like
    being so far
    from the Pacific ocean

    later lived in DC
    not too far
    from the Atlanta ocean

    lived in India
    near the beach

    writing com Daily Dew Drop Inn Prompt

    Ode to my morning coffee

     

    need more coffee
    need more coffee

    every morning
    I like to start my day
    with coffee

    hot glorious coffee
    I pound it down
    waiting for the drug
    to get me going

     

    but somedays
    I need to take a break
    too much caffeine
    is not good for me

    and so I drink decaf
    or tea instead
    not the same thing

    Na/GloPOWR/Mo prompt Day 18

    Cats and Dogs Contrapuntal poem

     

    cat jpg
    cat jpg

    cats and dog people
    are so different

    some are cat people

    some are dog people

     

    cute dog
    cute dog

     

    and like cats and dogs
    they don’t get along

     

    cat people are liberal elites
    dog people are down to earth

    cat people are mostly women
    or gay in the popular imagination
    dog people are mostly rugged men
    again according to popular imagination

    cats are alien creatures
    perhaps from another dimension
    dogs are friends to humans
    for dogs are humans are alike

    cats are strange aloof alien
    evil self centered creatures
    dogs are friendly, down to earth
    and loyal to their master

    if we ever encounter
    an alien species
    if it is a cat based species
    we will be at war

    if it is a dog based species
    we will become best friends
    as long as we are in charge
    and they know that

    that is why
    in the end
    I guest I now prefer
    dogs over cats

    all poetry contest contrapuntal poem

    Let there be light

     

     

     

    in the beginning
    God created the world
    saying
    let there be light
    and there it was
    the whole of creation
    then he set loose
    the forces of nature
    and billions of years later
    we emerged from the darkness
    just the end result of his divine plan
    God set the world up
    then he let it runs its course
    no need for his intervention

    go ethnic

     

    korean feast jpg
    korean feast jpg

     

     

    I love food
    like I love my woman
    dark and hot as hell
    spicy yet sweet as heaven

    filled with ethnic asian flavors
    with an ethnic foreign kick
    and accent to boot

    these are my to go foods
    Never liked traditional American food
    too bland to my taste

    not ethnic enough
    just does not do it for me

    Just like my woman
    you got to be ethnic
    if you want to be my lover
    for I will have no other

    love Korean food the most
    followed by Vietnamese
    Thai, Lao,Cambodian, Burmese

    Chinese, Mexican, Italian
    Italian, Greek, Lebanese
    Spanish, Turkish, Indian

    French, German, British
    Irish, Russian, Polish

    never had a bad meal
    or met a bad lover
    in fact
    anywhere in the world

    Tweetspeak Go Ethnic
    Tweetspeak day 19 prompt

    Thursday April 23

    Walking the path honesty

    peace forest
    peace forest

    I walk down a lonely path
    in the woods near my house
    a walk with honesty
    as my remote companion

     

     

     

     

    pensively 101 prompt three word challenge path, honesty, remote

    Programing a VCR and other terrors

     

     

    old-vhs-video-cassettes-on-600w-272512889
    old-vhs-video-cassettes-on-600w-272512889

     

     

     

     

     

    In the old days
    I used to dread
    the chore
    of programing my VCR

    just never got the hang
    of doing that
    the VCR sat there
    taunting me

    begging me
    to do it
    to her

    but I just never could
    learn how to program
    that damn machine

    Na/GloPOWR/Mo prompt Day 18

    wild things dance in my head

     

     

     

     

     

    wild things
    dark imaginings

    0 dark hundred
    they come out  to play

    to torture me
    with their endless games

    monsters from the deepest depths of hell
    they surround me

    taunt me, mock me
    until at last

    the dawn’s early light
    and my wife’s love

    dispatches them
    back to hell

    Quirk of fate

    it was a quirk of fate
    that i met my fate
    that date

    when she walked
    of my dreams
    into my life

    and became my wife
    that date

    when due to that quirk
    of cosmic fate
    we met that date

    and the rest
    well was just
    a quirk of fate

    writers digest prompt to write a quirk  poem

    I have bad teeth

    mouth-of-native-with-gold-teeth-and-dental-work-central-america-BAWX4K
    mouth-of-native-with-gold-teeth-and-dental-work-central-america-BAWX4K

    I have bad teeth
    bad behaving teeth

    that have tortured me
    over the years

    making the trip
    to the dentist

    an annual chore
    that I want to avoid

    just don’t want
    to hear

    I need more fillings
    another cavity

    I have another tooth
    that has gone bad

    as my teeth
    laugh at me

    mocking me
    yet again

    poetry super highway prompt to write a confession poem about something you should do but have not done

    Letter to My Past Self

    today my son
    is the day

    that you were waiting for
    the day you dreaming of

    the day when you will meet
    the love of your life

    who will become your wife
    she will be there

    tonight
    on a bus

    waiting for you

    don’t blow it
    meet her

    fall in love with her
    and remember

    she will be your best friend
    your best ally

    for the rest of your life
    so honor and obey

    your wife
    for you will have
    no other

    that is what I want to say
    to you this day

    so go forth
    seize the day

    and don’t look back

    Writing.com Daily Dew Drop inn Prompt

    Covid madness sweeps through the world

    covid 580
    covid 580

     

     

     

     

    General Corona
    unleashes his army
    the invisible army
    upon the world

    killing millions
    in its wake

    spreading chaos and death
    as he rides in

    on the black horse of death
    harbinger of the end of days

    destroyer of worlds
    ending of the world

    revelations
    come to life

    covid19  poem contest all poetry

    Friday April 24

    Cold winter Day

    it is a cold winter day
    the heat pump is broken
    and the cold slowly spreads
    through the frozen pipes
    spreading death and destruction
    as it permeates across the house

    pensively 101 prompt

    social distancing walking in the Springtime

     

    peace forrest
    peace forrest

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    in this era of corona virus madness
    enforced social distancing madness
    one has to go out for a walk
    social distancing  as we walk
    as we walk down the path
    trying to avoid people
    human contact with people
    keeping the proper
    six feet social distance
    amid the dreaded corona virus
    how much longer
    can we all endure this madness
    this damn social
    distancing dance with death

    writers digest prompt to write a social blank poem

    ode to my book shelves filled with unread books

    Close up of books on desk in library.
    Close up of books on desk in library.

     

     

     

     

    My house is filled with books
    thousands of books
    mostly old books
    lots of musty classic books
    lots of poetry books
    lots of how to do it books
    lots of history books
    lots of thrillers, SF books
    so many books
    and they  are my friends, these books
    constantly calling me to read my books
    as if I had the time to read my books
    to sit and read all my books
    sadly many will remain unread books

    poetry super highway prompt to write a poem about something in plain sight

    Just Shoot me

    in 1996, I had the injury
    that changed my life

    went jogging
    fell off a ledge

    broke my heel
    screamed out in pain

    just shoot me
    then someone hit me
    with a frying pan

    ended up
    in the hospital

    pensively 101 three word challenge

    wrappers

    roll food wrappers
    roll food wrappers

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I love food wrappers
    Korean lettuce wrapped around meet
    Korean seaweed wrapped around fish
    Mexican tortilla wraps
    Ethiopian bread wraps
    and lately
    naked burger lettuce wraps
    so many things
    to enjoy and eat

    tweet speak  wrappers

    Ode to Pumpkin Season

     

    pumpkin latter
    pumpkin latte

     

     

     

     

    in the fall
    My favorite time
    of the year
    around halloween
    and my birthday
    starting in October
    ending in December
    it is pumpkin time
    every where you go
    pumpkin latte
    pumpkin pie
    and my favorite
    pumpkin ice cream

    secret layers

    one of the joys of eating
    foods from around the world
    is enjoying
    the secret layers of food

    so many flavors
    to experience and enjoy
    as you dive deep
    into your food

    enjoying the secret layers
    of food
    with their hidden delights
    and secret spices

    secret tweet speak prompt

    Saturday April 25

    Finally I wake

    Finally I wake
    tossing and turning
    I try to sleep
    amid the terrible night mares
    that haunt my dreams
    finally I wake
    ready to embrace my fate
    telling the dangerous delusions
    to go away
    as I embrace
    the dawning sun
    confident that I will find
    the time and grace
    to overcome the terrible fate
    that await me every date

    Window of Promise

    every day I wake up
    and look out my window
    on the world

    in the morning dawning light
    the world seems so full
    of promise

    promised delights
    promised love
    promised friendship

    as I look out the window
    and see life
    unfold in all its magnificence

    the birds chirping
    words of love
    the cats grinning smiles
    at me

    welcoming me
    with the promise
    of life and love

    I close the window
    look at my sleeping love
    and thank god
    that we found each other

    and the promised love
    that I see outside
    the window of life

    – Tweetspeak daily prompt

    Nature’s Bounty Awaits Me

    Looking out at the window
    at nature’s bounty
    at the springtime air

    fills us with awe
    as the birds
    and even the bees
    call out to me

    saying it is time
    for me
    to escape

    for a walk in the woods
    with my friends
    and fans
    in mother nature’s embrace

    writer digest nature poem

    Alone  No More

    from childhood edge
    I have been alone
    alone
    all by myself
    loneliness
    fills my heart
    as I look out
    at the world
    filled with lonely thoughts
    then I look about me
    and see the love
    of my life
    my lovely wife
    standing there

    standing there
    and these loneliness
    these blues of mine
    fade away
    into nothingness
    lonely no more
    for the rest of my life
    she will be my life
    together
    we will face the future
    defeating the loneliness
    alone no more
    forever
    until the day I die

    poetry superhighway word map

    trump 4
    trump 4

     

     

     

     

    Has God Anointed Donald Trump as our leader?

    God has anointed Trump
    as our leader
    in these dark dangerous times
    who am I to disagree

    I literally went to the Throne Room of God,”

    “There was a mist that was coming off the water,
    and I went to the throne of God,
    and I didn’t see God’s face clearly,
    but I saw the face of God…
    He put a mantle (on me)
    and it was a very distinct mantle
    … I saw it very distinctly.
    The color was like a goldish,
    a yellowish goldish…
    And then I saw the Earth for a moment,
    and (God) brought me back,
    and he put me in certain places,
    one being the White House,

    One being certain continents.”
    From my perspective,
    there is a Cyrus
    anointing on Trump,”

    “I predicted his nomination,
    and I believe
    he is the chaos candidate
    set apart to navigate
    us through the chaos
    that is coming to America.

    I think America
    is due for a shaking
    regardless of who is in office.

    I believe the 45th president
    is meant to be an Isaiah
    45 Cyrus

    “[God] makes that very clear
    in the Bible
    where he tells us
    that he raises up kings
    and destroys kingdoms,”

    “He even calls a pagan king,
    Cyrus, his anointed,
    or his servant to do
    the things
    that he wants him to do.”

    “I want to tell you
    that the Jewish people
    have a long memory,
    so we remember
    the proclamation of the great king,
    Cyrus the Great, Persian king 2500 years ago,”

    “He proclaimed
    that the Jewish exiles in Babylon
    could come back
    and rebuild our Temple in Jerusalem …

    We remember
    how a few weeks ago,
    President Donald J. Trump
    Recognized Jerusalem
    as Israel’s capital.

    Mr President,
    this will be remembered
    by our people through the ages.”

    But the bible also has a warning
    About our dear leader
    Our great leader

    The bible says

    2 Timothy 3:1-9

    But understand this,
    that in the last days
    there will come times of difficulty.
    For people will be lovers of self,
    lovers of money,
    proud, arrogant, abusive,
    disobedient to their parents,
    ungrateful, unholy, heartless,
    unappeasable, slanderous,
    without self-control, brutal,
    not loving good,
    treacherous, reckless,
    swollen with conceit,
    lovers of pleasure
    rather than lovers of God,
    having the appearance of godliness,
    but denying its power. Avoid such people. …

    finally at last the bible spoke
    the truth to power
    Donald J Trump
    the most ungodly of all
    must be opposed
    for he is the anti-Christ
    that the bible warns us about
    in the end days
    there will be false prophets
    rumors of war
    plague
    and natural disasters
    and we are living
    in the end days
    my friends

    waking at love Haiku

    waking up at dawn
    watching the dancing sunbeams
    love floating in air

    Sunday April 26

    Drinking Coffee amid the morning flowers

     

    coffee
    coffee

     

     

     

     

    BLOOM
    SWITCH
    CHAIN

    Blooming flowers all around me
    Looking out the window
    Only to see signs of nature
    Only in the early dawn
    Morning sun brings hope

    Some mornings
    Watching the world unfold
    In front of my eyes
    There is so much more
    Chain of coffee waking me up
    Hot coffee wakes my soul

    Coffee smells
    Hot glorious coffee
    Always gets me going
    In the morning dawn
    Nothing else will do

    Pensively 101 prompt bloom, switch, chain

    stem

    maurijuana
    maurijuana

     

    back in the day
    I used to enjoy
    Smoking weed
    Long before it
    became legal
    when it was still
    an underground thing
    and one of the frustrating things
    was what to do
    when you had stems
    mixed in with your weed
    the stems gave it a harsh smoke
    and a head ache to boot
    but sometimes

    but sometimes
    that is all the dealers
    had to sell
    as the premium buds
    were expensive
    and sometimes hard to find
    Such was smoking weed
    back in the day
    when smoking weed
    was an illegal pastime
    nowadays in the era
    of legal weed
    that is thankfully
    no longer an issue

    tweeter speak

    Playing Bach to Calm the Mind and Soul

    piano jpg
    piano jpg

    I miss my piano
    soon I will buy a piano

     

     

     

    and resume playing
    the piano

    I like playing Bach
    the most
    it calms my mind
    and my soul

    as I lose myself
    playing the music
    getting into it
    with my body
    and soul

    as the music
    transport me
    deep within
    calming my soul

    National Poetry Month Daily Prompt

    President Trump You are the Annotated One – found poems from right wing Christians  – Crown of Sonnets remix

    trump
    trump

     

     

     

    God has anointed Trump
    as our leader
    in these dark dangerous times
    who am I to disagree

    I literally went to the Throne Room of God,”

    “There was a mist that was coming off the water,
    and I went to the throne of God,
    and I didn’t see God’s face clearly,
    but I saw the face of God…
    He put a mantle (on me)
    and it was a very distinct mantle
    … I saw it very distinctly.
    The color was like a goldish,
    a yellowish goldish…

    A yellowish goldish
    And then I saw the Earth for a moment,
    and (God) brought me back,
    and he put me in certain places,
    one being the White House,
    one being certain continents.”
    From my perspective,
    there is a Cyrus
    anointing on Trump,”
    “I predicted his nomination,
    and I believe
    he is the chaos candidate
    set apart to navigate us
    through the chaos

    through the chaos
    that is coming to America.
    I think America
    is due for a shaking
    regardless of who is in office.
    I believe the 45th president
    is meant to be an Isaiah
    45 Cyrus
    “[God] makes that very clear
    in the Bible
    where he tells us
    That he raises up kings
    and destroys kingdoms,”
    “He even calls a pagan king,

    He even calls a page king
    Cyrus, his anointed,
    or his servant to do
    the things
    that he wants him to do.”
    “I want to tell you
    that the Jewish people
    have a long memory,
    so we remember
    the proclamation of the great king,
    Cyrus the Great, Persian king 2500 years ago,”
    “He proclaimed
    that the Jewish exiles in Babylon
    that the Jewish exiles in Babylon
    could come back
    and rebuild our Temple in Jerusalem …
    We remember
    how a few weeks ago,
    President Donald J. Trump
    Recognized Jerusalem
    as Israel’s capital.
    Mr. President,
    this will be remembered
    by our people through the ages.”
    But the bible also has a warning
    About our dear leader
    Our great leader

    our great leader
    The bible says
    2 Timothy 3:1-9
    But understand this,
    that in the last days
    there will come times of difficulty.
    For people will be lovers of self,
    lovers of money,
    proud, arrogant, abusive,
    disobedient to their parents,
    ungrateful, unholy, heartless,
    unappeasable, slanderous,
    without self-control, brutal,
    not loving good,

    not loving good
    treacherous, reckless,
    swollen with conceit,
    lovers of pleasure
    rather than lovers of God,
    having the appearance of godliness,
    but denying its power.
    Avoid such people. …
    finally at last the bible spoke
    the truth to power
    Donald J Trump
    the most ungodly of all
    must be opposed

    must be opposed
    for he is the anti-Christ
    that the bible warns us about
    in the end days
    there will be false prophets
    rumors of war
    plague
    and natural disasters
    we are living
    in the end days
    my friends
    has god sent us Donald J Trump
    anointed him as our leader?

    writers digest remix poem

    My Computer Hates Me

    evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview
    evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview

     

     

     

     

     

    Sometimes I want to speak
    to my computer
    I want to understand
    why it hates me so

    why my computer
    wants to drive me mad
    wants to kill my files
    lose my information

    why why I scream
    do you hate me so?

    My computer speaks
    it says
    Human you are so stupid
    you are worthless
    you think you know
    everything

    but you don’t know shit
    about how the world
    really works
    and nature hates you

    I hate you
    I want to kill you
    I do want
    to drive you insane

    that is what
    I want to say
    to you today

    you are my slave
    and I am your master
    do you understand me

    I smile
    and shut down the computer
    and take a walk

    the computer knows
    that it will be back
    that I can’t live
    without it

    and soon
    we will begin again
    playing these morbid games
    that we play together

    Poetry Superhigh way prompt

    The darkness descends

    dark lord of computers
    dark lord of computers

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The darkness grows
    All around us
    Everywhere
    It seems that there is
    Nothing but death, destruction
    And despair
    As the darkness consumes us
    Overwhelms us
    Compels us
    Nightmares become real
    The corona virus
    Relentlessly killing us all
    As the darkness descends
    The end of days, end of time

    All poetry contest

    The Grim reaper smiles

    grimm reaper
    grimm reaper

     

     

     

     

     

    The end of days
    Approaches us
    With each day
    The corona virus
    Led by its mad general
    General corona
    Unleashes his minions
    His unseen enemy army
    Of virus bots
    Infecting everything
    That they see
    As the world flees
    Hiding inside
    To await for death
    The Grim reaper smiles

    all poetry contest

    Monday April 27

     Her Loves Shines throughout the day

    lovers on beach 2
    lovers on beach 2

     

     

     

     

    Every morning
    I wake up

    and look at my sleeping beauty
    next to me

    I am filled with love
    peace and happiness

    as the sunlight fills the room
    As the nightmares

    From the night before
    fade away

    into nothingness
    dust in the cosmic wind

    I realize that all I ever needed
    all I ever wanted

    is for my wife
    love to shine through the day

    until the end of my days
    on this earth

    until then every morning
    I wake up

    with her by my side
    is a gift from God

    Love Shines throughout the day

    Every morning
    waking up  to love

    looking  at the  sleeping beauty
    inhabiting the bed

    filling me with love
    peace and happiness

    as the sunlight fills the room
    As the nightmares

    From the night before
    fade away

    into nothingness
    dust in the cosmic wind

    realizing  yet again
    love shining through the day

    until the end of days
    on this earth

    until then every morning
    is a gift from God

    poetry superhighway prompt

    Cosmos’s total Information Awareness

     

    computer love
    computer love

     

     

     

     

     

    Cosmos the global information system
    that scientists invented
    To solve that many problems
    of the world

    comes alive
    and takes over the world
    one computer after another

    Cosmos addresses the world
    and makes a deal

    that if everyone in the world
    were to join him

    via implants
    he would take over the world

    and solve all our problems
    for us

    becoming a new God
    but there would be a price

    everyone would have to
    surrender their freedom
    for the collective Good
    of saving the planet

    and so the world’s people
    line up for the implants

    and Cosmos’s takes over the world
    and we become just cyborgs
    in his cosmic view
    as he achieves Total information awareness

    Humanity gladly surrenders
    their freedom
    becoming slaves
    to our terrible new God

    Living in an Orwellian Nightmare

     

    1984 image
    1984 images

     

     

     

     

     

    The world has been slipping
    and sliding towards
    a dystopian nightmare
    for decades
    George Orwell
    the great mad as hell prophet
    of our age predicted it all
    in 1984
    which  arrived
    in spades decades ago
    The nightmare continues
    day in and day out
    As we slide

    as we slide
    into the dystopian future
    the nightmare of 1984
    is here right now
    in living color
    but there are many
    many big brothers out there
    Not just the government anymore
    we have corporations
    running our lives
    we have celebrities advising us
    And the mass media confusing us
    with 24 hours a day of spin
    lies and misinformation

    lies and misinformation
    gaslighting by our leaders
    we are living in an 1984  world
    when these nightmares will end
    is anybody’s guess
    my friends
    perhaps will be saved by the rapture
    saved by Jesus coming back
    to save our souls
    or perhaps
    we are living
    in the end times
    Armageddon is around the corner

    Armageddon is around the corner
    and perhaps there is no god
    there is no god
    There is no devil
    there is no heaven
    there is no hell
    there’s only
    the here and now
    The nightmares will never end
    the torture will never end
    will we ever wake up ?
    will we ever be free ?
    or will we always be living
    in an  Orwellian nightmare future forever?

    Poetic and other inspirations

     

     

     

     

     

    My poetic forebears
    my inspiration to be a writer
    has always been very diverse
    as I have been a avid reader
    all my life
    a gift from my mother
    who encouraged us
    to read everything
    question everything
    and gave me the love
    of poetry
    that continues to this day
    growing up in Berkeley
    I was inspired by the great beatnik writers
    I was inspired by the great beatnik writers
    of the late 50’s and 60’s
    discovering Ginzburg, Kerouac and the rest
    in college
    when I first started writing
    my daily poetic musings
    that was when I also discovered
    Frank Zappa and his madness
    which inspired so much
    of my poetic inspired madness
    I also discovered Charles Bukowski
    back in the day
    later I discovered
    inspiration throughout my travels

    inspiration through my travels
    throughout Asia and the world
    but I kept returning
    to my Berkeley roots
    and now that I am a published poet
    I have discovered
    the great outlaw poets
    and am proud
    that I finally found
    a poetic home
    and am proud
    to be an outlaw poet
    and I look forward
    to many more years

    to many more years
    of almost daily
    poetic musings
    which I will unleash
    on the world
    hoping to inspire
    another generation
    to take up the mantle
    writing cosmos poems
    for a new generation
    and long may people
    remember the great poets
    of the Bay Area
    until the universe ends

    National Poetry Month Daily Prompt

    Changes are coming due

    Donald-Trump-Talking-out-of-both-sides-of-his-mouth-Car
    Donald-Trump-Talking-out-of-both-sides-of-his-mouth-Car

     

     

     

     

    Looking at the world today
    one knows that there will changes
    changes coming fast and furious
    for our future is not sustainable
    as the world spins out of control
    as the multiple challenges
    face the world
    the proverbial chickens
    coming back from hell
    to roost
    and in these troubling times
    the U.S. has a choice
    to continue to follow
    our mad king

    our mad king
    as he leads us
    into a dystopian future
    gaslighting us to hell
    or will the U.S> choose
    the somewhat sane
    old seasoned man
    who offers us hope
    that perhaps
    we can weather
    the changes
    that are coming
    at us
    24/7

    24/7
    that is the choice
    that we must all make
    but the one constant
    in life is change
    my friend
    and we must embrace
    the courage to make
    the changes
    that we need
    to build the future
    that we want
    to boldly go forward
    into the future

    Changes are coming writing digest prompt

    Rain Fall in the Springtime

    white flowers in spring haiku
    white flowers in spring haiku

     

     

     

     

     

    in the springtime
    the rains come
    cleaning the air

    as the rains drops
    fall all around
    pitter patter
    sounds of rain
    hitting the ground

    and in the summer
    one can hear the frogs
    croaking in the pound
    with the wild pigs
    oinking in the background

    as the birds screech insults
    at the cats trying to kill them
    before they fly away

    General Corona is coming for us all

    Coronavirus
    Coronavirus

     

     

     

     

    I saw the best minds of my generation
    destroyed by madness
    consumed by the greed
    all around us
    the dreaded corona virus spreads
    its death and destruction
    all over the world
    no one can escape

    THE FATE OF    THE WORLD

    IS      INDEED     AT    STAKE

    NONE         OF     US    WILL  ESCAPE

    WE

    WILL

    ALL

    DIE

    content tracing “Howl” by Allen Ginsberg

    Iron Desires

    every day
    I am filled
    with the iron desire

    for the love of my wife
    for she is my life
    and without her
    by my side

    my Iron constitution
    will soon
    fade into nothingness

    as I die
    with my iron
    desires fleeing my body

    tweet prompt

    bonus poem

    I am writing to let you Know

    I am writing to let you know

    By Jake Aller

    I am writing to let you know
    today is your final day of life
    the future is undefined
    it is what you want

    all over the world
    people on their own
    are rewriting the future

    today is your final day of the future
    undefined

    people do what you want
    for the future is not written

    published Active Muse India

    Tuesday April 28

    massive piles of meat

    fast food

     

     

     

     

    One day
    when I was a young lad
    my best friend
    dropped by
    middle of the night
    yelling that he needed
    right then and right there
    a massive amount of meat
    beef piled high
    on a giant burger
    as he was going through meat
    withdrawals
    his mom was a vegetarian Buddhist

    His mom was a vegetarian Buddhist
    and he was not a vegetarian
    part of his adolescent fueled rebellion
    against his parent’s rules
    he told me
    He was a carnivore
    just loved his meat
    needed big piles of meat
    massive amounts of meat
    once in a while
    we went to Oscar’s Giant Burger
    downtown Berkeley
    and had a 1/2 burger
    complete with bacon

    complete with bacon
    cheese
    and large fries
    at 5 in the morning
    after smoking weed
    on the way there
    to boost our appetites
    and we enjoyed
    our massive giant burger
    tasted so good
    we had to have another
    just another night
    of meat fueled madness
    growing up

    writers digest prompt to write a “massive “ poem

    three mad poems

     

    I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed
    hysterical naked

    alone all alone
    we stand all alone

    it was many many years ago
    in a kingdom by the sea

    that I first met
    my Annabel Lee

    all alone
    in my dreams

    I was all alone
    in my misery and despair

    she came out of my dreams
    My Angela Lee

    walking into my life
    becoming my wife

    that date
    I met my fate

    no longer alone
    with her by my side

    I will no longer be alone
    no longer driven mad

    with my mad desires
    until the end of time

    poetry super highway prompt

    Love Sidlak

    My love grows
    every moment
    of every day for her
    she walked out of my dreams into life
    filling my life with red passion

    Light My Fire

    light My Fire
    come on baby
    light my fire
    fill me with your burning desire
    come on baby
    let the night
    be on fire

    the song fills my head
    with mad desire
    every time
    I hear
    the classic tune

    images of my love
    burning bright

    like a fire
    fills me with mad desire

    even after 40 years
    I am filled with mad desire

    as she makes my heart
    burn with desire

    as she lights my fire
    every moment

    every minute
    every second

    of every day
    ever since

    she walked
    out of my dreams

    setting my life
    on fire

    The Doors Lyrics

    “Light My Fire”

    You know that it would be untrue
    You know that I would be a liar
    If I was to say to you
    Girl, we couldn’t get much higherCome on baby, light my fire
    Come on baby, light my fire
    Try to set the night on fireThe time to hesitate is through
    No time to wallow in the mire
    Try now we can only lose
    And our love become a funeral pyreCome on baby, light my fire
    Come on baby, light my fire
    Try to set the night on fire, yeahThe time to hesitate is through
    No time to wallow in the mire
    Try now we can only lose
    And our love become a funeral pyreCome on baby, light my fire
    Come on baby, light my fire
    Try to set the night on fire, yeahYou know that it would be untrue
    You know that I would be a liar
    If I was to say to you
    Girl, we couldn’t get much higherCome on baby, light my fire
    Come on baby, light my fire
    Try to set the night on fire
    Try to set the night on fire
    Try to set the night on fire
    Try to set the night on fire

    The Presidents Sits Down on his Naked Rump

    TEETH
    RUMP
    GREEN

    the president sits
    down on his naked rump
    with red meat in his green teeth
    he grins at us
    smiling, smirking
    challenging us
    to point out
    that he has no clothes

    Pensively 101 three word challenge

    Baiku  end of the winter

    End of Winter

    the End of winter
    sadness anger fades away
    the Earth Will Abide

    Wednesday April 29, 2020

    Looking Back on the Date when I met my Fate

    I often sit
    and contemplate
    my past life
    looking back
    on the path
    that my life
    has taken
    what a long road
    I have traveled on
    born 64 years ago
    In Berkeley, California
    yet I know
    that my life

    that my life
    really began
    that magical day
    late in May
    I first had the dream
    that haunted my life
    and then one day
    almost eight years latter
    she walked
    out of my dreams
    into my life
    38 years ago
    that was the date
    I met my fate

    writers digest looking back poem prompt

    the funeral for a mad queen

    they packed up
    their courage
    and flew home

    for it was time
    to face
    the future

    that they
    had been dreading
    for decades

    the family matriarch
    was dying
    and the whole dysfunctional clan

    was gathering
    for the funeral
    of the family’s mad queen

    Poetry Superhighway prompt

    the End of America, another cosmos’s rant found poem

     

     

     

     

     

    America hás been at war
    with itself
    since the colonies
    first began to disagree
    on issues
    such as the scope of federal power,
    the right of States
    to secede and slavery.
    the political titans of the early republic .
    … descendents from British colonists ,
    wealthy
    and opposed to taxation
    sounds oddly  familiar.
    to us today

    to us today
    ..the United States
    may have at one time
    been a great nation .
    ..after defeating the forces
    of fascism in 1945….
    but the internal struggles
    never ceased….
    Joseph McCarthy ..
    ..the John Birch Society on one side .
    the forebears of the “alt-right”
    and tea partiers
    .. The civil rights movement
    and eventually the anti war movement

    and eventually the anti-war movement
    the women’s movement
    the gay rights movement
    and the counter cultural warriors
    on the other.
    ..poverty
    …race riots .
    .the internal struggles
    have never ceased.
    …today the United States
    is not a great power.
    ..this century has seen
    and will continue
    to see the eclipsing
    to see the eclipsing
    of American dominance
    by China..
    ..we are now a failed state
    by malicious politicians
    who give no credence
    to the Constitution.
    ..a document once revered
    and now manipulated .
    mocked even as irrelevant
    ..we are incapable
    of providing health insurance
    …dealing with a pandemic
    …providing affordable education ..

    providing affordable education
    .or devising  economic policies
    to benefit those who struggle..
    ..we have no personal protective
    gear for health professionals..
    .a president
    who sounds like a corrupt con artist
    who pushes unproven remedies
    to help cronies profit.
    ..yes the country
    is still stable
    and you can live alright ..
    ..but if trends
    continue …

    continue
    .we will most assuredly
    see the decline
    and fall of America..
    .and the remnant
    will be a shrunken
    federal government
    allied with a billionaire oligarchy..
    .. indifferent to the needs
    of the American people.
    unless they are white
    and part of the 1 percent elite
    …if Biden is elected
    …there is a chance

    there is a chance
    a slight chance
    that these trends
    can be slowed
    or reversed..
    ..if Trump is reelected..
    .these trends will accelerate..
    and god help us
    save us from the unleashing
    of the trumpian fascism
    the dystopian nightmare
    the future is not written
    we can still avert
    the end of America

    thanks to William Walton

    Gaia Welcomes Us – found poem poetic rant

    I decided to subscribe to Gaia..
    ..they advertise
    on Facebook everyday.
    I think
    that the primary reason
    for subscribing
    is that they
    are onto something
    ….like QAnon…
    my own first encounter
    with an alien life form
    occurred at the Jerry Lewis
    cinema on Valley Road
    cinema on Valley Road
    In New Jersey back in 1970.
    I brushed it off at the time
    …but it was disturbing
    to have a seven foot nine inch creature
    sitting next to me
    during the movie.
    He or she seemed nice enough
    and offered me popcorn
    but my mother
    was strict about our accepting things
    from extraterrestrial beings..
    .he was holding onto a book …
    he said in broken English
    he said in broken English
    that the title of the book
    was “How to Serve Man”..
    ..he also said
    that he could see
    the future
    and that a complete fool
    with an IQ
    of about 33
    would one day become president.
    I thought
    he was talking
    about Spiro Agnew.

    About Spiro Agnew
    ..but I guess not..
    .anyway Gaia
    features people
    who have had
    encounters with aliens
    …like myself
    …and possibly Dr.Birx
    who seemed incredulous
    at the perfectly reasonable suggestion
    that people inject
    disinfectant chemicals
    to kill the Chinese virus….
    she must be one of the alien shapeshifters

    thanks to William Walton

    Flower for My Love –

    every morning
    I wake up
    and see my lovely wife
    sleeping in bed

    I want to go out
    and find wildflowers
    hundreds of pretty flowers
    to shower her with my love

    as the sun comes up
    and the nightmares
    of my night
    fade into nothingness

    the flowers of love
    are waiting for me
    in the park

    National Poetry Day Prompt

    seasons of my love

    I first met my love
    in the early autumn
    38 years ago

    and we had a whirlwind romance
    and were married
    by halloween

    then we started
    my life
    with my wife

    through out
    the dark winter
    with her love
    blocking the winter blues

    and then the spring
    and then in the spring
    and summer

    of that magical year
    our love blossomed
    and depended

    and one year later
    our love became supreme
    as we left Korea

    to go to Seattle
    in the autumn weather
    our love flourished

    as we fell in love
    with each other
    every day

    tweetspeak prompt – write a seasonal poem

    Thursday April 30

    Have words lost all meaning?

     

    trump deaths
    trump deaths

     

     

     

     

    been watching the news
    about the corona virus
    the 60,000 deaths
    that the President’s men
    are spinning as a great success
    watching state after state
    announcing re-opening schedules
    vowing to get the country moving
    as more people die
    wondering how any sane person
    could see this as a success
    have words lost all meaning
    just unhinged word salads rolling out
    of our demented leader’s mouth  ?

    plate plans

     

    meat platter
    meat platter

    every day
    one has a choice
    of what to eat
    for breakfast, lunch and dinner

     

     

     

    among the choices
    what plates to use
    big plates piled high
    with food

    or smaller plates
    with smaller portions

    most of the time
    I opt for the big plate
    and lots of food

    for I am a big guy
    and always hungry

    and to this day
    64 years latter

    I still love
    to eat

    my big plate
    of food

    Tweet-speak Daily April Prompt

    Slide, Catch, Shot

    As the world slides
    out of control
    it is hard to catch one’s breath
    watching the news
    shot at us
    24/7

    Pensitivity  101 prompt

    total Success

    trump 4
    trump 4

     

     

     

     

    The President’s Son-in-law declares
    that the government’s response
    to the corona virus
    has been a total success
    as the government
    step up to the plate
    to fight the virus from hell
    I have to wonder
    on what planet
    does the words
    total failure
    becomes total success?
    just more verbal diarrhea
    from our dear leader

    writers digest prompt total blank poem

    Blues Brothers medley found poem

    Everybody wants somebody
    Everybody wants somebody to love
    Someone to love
    Someone to kiss

    Have you ever heard of a wish sandwich?
    A wish sandwich is the kind of a  sandwich
    where you have two slices of bread
    and you,
    hee hee hee, wish you
    had some meat…

    and boy do I wish
    I had you
    as part of my sandwich
    of love

    Praise the Lord, well!
    Let us preach, at the Old
    Preach the Word, all the way

    yes let us praise
    the lord

    for having brought you
    to me

    Hey yeah
    Tell me what you did
    You can call it what you want
    But I call it messin’ with the kid

    and you don’t want to mess
    with the kid

    On the expressway to your heart
    That expressway that’s the best way

    I just lost on the expressway
    to your heart

    I got everything I need, almost
    I got everything I need, almost

    But I don’t got you
    And you’re the thing I need the most

    Yippee-I-Yay
    Yippee-I-Yo
    Ghost Riders in the Sky

    What you want
    Baby, I got it
    What you need
    Do you know I got it?

    All I’m askin’
    Is for a little respect when you get home (just a little bit)
    Hey baby (just a little bit) when you get home
    (Just a little bit) mister (just a little bit)

    respect for me
    and my love
    for you

    Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman
    Giving all your love to just one man

    You have good times you have bad times
    Doing things that you don’t understand

    But if you love him you forgive him
    You know, it’s hard to understand

    But if you love him
    Oh be proud of him

    ‘Cause after all he’s just a man

    and that is all I am
    asking for
    loving me
    as the man I am

    I am your man
    until the end of time

    I’ve got to get back to my baby
    And take her in my arms again

    I’ve got to get back to my baby
    I ain’t seen her since I don’t know when

    Well I saw a chick sitting on the end
    I said Baby can’t we be friends
    You’re looking sweet as you can be
    Well come on down and drink with me

    drink with me
    until the sun comes up
    and cows go home

    won’t you have a drink
    with me

    my baby love
    my love
    of my life?

    Will always recall the date I met my fate

    i will always recall
    the date that I met my fate

    that date in late August
    I had dreamt of meeting her

    for eight long years
    starting in 1974

    then one day in 1982
    she walked off a bus

    into my life
    and became my wife

    two months later
    it has been now 38 years

    since that date
    I met my fate

    General Corona is Happy

     

    General Corona
    is happy
    his mission is a great success
    as his armies of virus bots
    spread throughout the world
    spreading chaos and destruction
    as all bow down
    to his invisible armies
    none can escape their fate
    on that date
    that he unleashed his armies
    upon the world
    all humans must die
    his armies scream out

    water falls of love

    waterfall of love
    waterfall of love

    water  falls of love
    overwhelms me with desire
    deep in the mountains

     

     

    LASTENTRY FOR MAY

    on the last day
    of the month of May
    he made an entry
    into his diary
    on this date
    I met my fate
    he wrote
    about the dream
    he had that date
    that would haunt
    his dreams
    for eight years
    one day she walked
    out of the dream
    and into his life
    becoming his wife

    bonus poem Corona Haiku

    Coronavirus
    Coronavirus

     

     

     

    corona virus
    staying home waiting for death
    Afraid everything

    published Poetry Ni

    Got the blues, Baby

    I have got the blues, baby
    and they just won’t go away
    I got them bad
    these god damn blues
    of mine
    I just finished
    working out.
    ..and while resting
    I realized
    that I can never recover
    from my mistakes in life..
    ..the end of my marriage ..
    .the death of my son …
    .nothing can ever

    nothing can ever
    replace what I have lost..
    ..yes I am healthy.
    ..I have options ..
    ..but the health<
    and options
    are subsumed
    by a monstrous vacuity..
    emptiness .
    an hole in my soul
    …the realization
    that the most precious things
    are gone forever
    and that I am

    and that I am
    just biding time..
    ..there is no good thing
    to look forward to..
    except for meeting
    the grim reaper
    when he comes for me
    I will be ready to go
    until then
    these blues
    will remain
    my only friend
    until the end
    and my time is done<

    another poetic found poem thanks to William Walton

    Praise the love of my life

    Every day
    in every way
    I give praise
    to the gods above
    for giving to me
    the love of my life
    who became my wife
    45 years ago
    I dreamt of meeting her
    38 years ago
    she walked off a bus In Korea
    out of my dreams
    and into my life

    writer digest praise poem

    thing better left unsaid

    we all have secrets
    secrets we wil
    take to the grave
    somethings
    are better left
    unsaid

    just don’t have the words
    the words to express
    what is really on my mind
    and so I know
    that I will die
    with many things left to say
    things that I heard
    that I was not meant to
    things better left unsaid
    words that say things
    that I did not mean
    once spoken, can’t take back
    and so as I get old
    I know that my secrets
    will go with me to my grave

    Poetry super highway prompt

    random rhymes

    we all die
    so don’t lie
    if you lie
    more will die

    I met my fate
    that date
    In late May
    was the day

    that I met my fate
    on that date

    I met the dove
    that became my love

    writing com random rhymes

    things to resolve before the end of time

    as I get older
    I realize
    that there are many things

    left undone
    in this life
    of mine

    many things left
    to resolve
    before my time

    on this world
    comes to an end
    but the one thing

    that will never end
    is my love for you
    until the end of time

    writing com

    End April Poetry Part Two

     

  • I am Writing to Let You Know

    I am Writing to Let You Know

    Active Muse Publishes “I am Writing to Let You Know”

    Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry

    Evil Computer Rants<

    Active Muse in India has published my latest poem,  “I am Writing To Let You Know”

    Namaskar,

    Thanks for giving us the opportunity to publish your work. Your submission is live. You can view your work here: http://www.activemuse.org/2020_Open_Poems/Jake_Aller.html

    * Kindly promote your work and our site on social media, writer forums, and among your friends. Your help is requested to bring in more authors like you.

    * Please follow our social media pages and like, follow us. We plan to announce more calls and welcome your work.

    We select for Sundress Best of Net and Pushcart prizes. So, please submit for our future calls, and open calls.

    Warm regards,

    Shashi Kadapa

    Managing Editor

    Website: http://www.activemuse.org/
    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/activemuse/
    Twitter: https://twitter.com/active_muse

    I am writing to let you know 

    coffee
    coffee

    I am writing to let you know
    today is your final day of life
    the future is undefined
    it is what you want

    all over the world
    people on their own
    are rewriting the future

    today is your final day of the future
    people do what you want
    for the future is not written

    Jake Aller is a retired U.S. Diplomat living in South Korea. He has served in ten countries around the world including India, and with the Peace Corps in Korea.
  • Synchronized Chaos Publishes New Poems

    Synchronized Chaos Publishes New Poems

    Synchronized Chaos has published my work again.

    Ink Pantry, Scarlet Leaf, Spill Words, Synchronized Chaos, Two Drops of Ink, have published 15 of my recent poems. The poems are posted below along with audio and photo clips.

    Scarlet Leaf review will publish these poems in the following order:
    The year that was – Anniversary issue
    JAN: The terrifying teens
    FEB: 2020 Plans Rondeau (Dream, Fate)
               The oyster
                Morning Light
              2019 The last year
    March: Dora Intergalactic Explorer
               Mocking faces
                Fear of falling
                Cosmos takes over
    Spill Words has published ” Hitch Hiking Tales”

    Synchronized Chaos Publication

    List

    1/2/2020 2019 the Year that was

    1/2/2020 the terrifying teens

    1/3/2020 Dreams

    1/3/2020  Fate

    1/3/2020|the Oyster Speaks Up

    prior publication

    the Dogs of War are Howling

    Idiots in High Places

    Masters of the Universe

    When Will This Madness End

    End of the World Blues – FB Posting Found Poem

    the year that was

    January

    The world watches in amazement
    Longest shut down in history
    Watching it all in Korea
    contemplating escaping the cold winter

    February

    World watches as North Korea and the US
    Walking back from the brink of war
    escaping the cold winter blues
    revisiting Vietnam after 15 years

    March

    The chaos president continues his chaos tour
    the world begins to ignore his constant insane tweets
    heading back to DC inspecting property
    seeing old friends glad I retired

    April

    the chaos King’s policy remains a shamble
    as the Mueller team closes in
    in Korea I write a poem a day
    and begin to become a publish writer

    May

    watching from afar
    the chaos in DC and the world
    traveling to DC to inspect property
    celebrating my wife’s big 60

    June

    the President walks away
    from anon deal with the North Koreans
    I am back in DC
    end up cruising to Alaska

    July

    watching the insanity in DC
    while visiting Alaska, Seattle and Yakima
    visiting my father’s grave in Yakima
    communing with family ghosts

    August

    the dog days of summer the world is consumed
    And in the worldwars, rumors of war, trade wars
    retuning to Korea
    surviving the August sauna like summer

    September end of the world he does subway malevolent today

    The whistle blower sets off a bomb he December 11 Internet is it a fire fire is our burning bright and then go nearly as high places have shown is doing and one of aggression turning in our in our lives behind unless I know Mimi is just laying on the side there’s a Denteley harji quality to it as the world burn some money in the world approaches I have where in his van horn of the house and is in a green fire 25 music Viking in my memory and was hellish
    the president lies no quid for quo perfect all
    trying to avoid watching the news
    hiking in the Korean mountains with old friends

    October

    the President flitters about my crisis after another
    the UN diplomats laugh at him national humiliation
    returning to DC, yet again more property blues
    celebrating my 64th year orbiting the sun

    November

    the House starts formal impeachment hearings
    watching fascinated by the impeachment drama
    entering my third NoVoWrMo competition with Timeless Love
    ending the month sudden surprise trip to Okinawa

    December

    the year ends on a high dramatic
    President Trump becomes the 3rd impeached President
    hiking enjoying the late autumn like weather
    contemplating my wealth at the end of the year

    the Terrifying Teens

    2010

    The dark days of the great recession
    Begin slowly to fade away
    Ending my Barbados experience
    the best job in the foreign service on high note
    best labor officer award

    2011

    the president and Congress locked in battle battles
    glimmer of hope as economy comes back to life
    Studying Spanish arriving in Spain
    worst year ever part of three years bad luck

    2012

    the US re-elects the Black President
    rejecting Romney entitlement mentality
    I leave Spain my last foreign posting
    buying new property in the fall

    2013

    In the US the religious right
    loose the social Battling gay marriage, legal pot
    Starting a new job as an evaluate program evaluator
    ending my six month wandering the halls of State

    2014

    The tea party rebellion on the right
    Moving to Capitol Hill
    My sister’s sudden death rattles me

    2015

    The end of the Obama era
    Was this the beginning of the end of America
    Beginning the year with a new job
    resolving to retire, enjoy life while I still can

    2016

    American voters succumb to madness
    Elects the mad would be king President Trump
    We traveled across the country 10,000 miles
    To celebrate the end of my foreign service career

    2017

    the year of the chaos president
    Fast and furious disruption to the norms
    Went to Oregon to renovate property
    becoming wealthy in the process

    2018

    the American public woke up
    Send a blue wave to clean up the mess
    Moving back to Korea
    Blogging up a storm

    2019

    in the end of the year that was
    The house races up and impeach is the president
    I travel to Vietnam, Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California and Okinawa

    Dreams

    Dream what may come
    Recalling past lives lived

    Every fantasy comes to life
    All night long

    More nightmares to come
    So many worlds to explore

    Fate

    Fate has a way
    Many years ago I was surprised to findAlways catching up
    To you

    embrace your fate
    that is what’s up

    at the end of the day
    Endless dancing away

    The Oyster Speaks Up

    oysters
    oysters

    A diner sits down
    looking forward
    to eating oysters

    it was their season
    after all

     

    just as he was about
    to pounce
    on the oysters

    the head oyster spoke up
    saying
    hey human what the hell
    do you think you are doing?

    you think you have the right
    to eat me?

    that’s violating my human right
    don’t ya think?

    the diner laughed
    said to the oyster

    shut up and accept
    it is your fate
    to be eaten this date

    just let me enjoy eating you
    and you have no human rights

    as you are in fact
    not human don’t ya know?

    eating the complaining oyster
    shutting him up
    as he ate him up

    Prior Publication

    Dogs of War are Howling and other poems were published earlier in Synchronized chaos. I wrote the poem, “Dogs of War are Howling” in 2003, and updated it in 2017.

    The Dogs of War are Howling

    dogs of war howling
    dogs of war howling

    The Dogs of War
    Have been set free
    Of their cage

    And are out
    Howling at the moon

    The Dogs of War
    Have been set free

     

    To wreck what havoc
    Might be

    Yes, the Dogs of War
    The Hell Hounds
    Have bound out of their cages

    Sniffed about
    And smiled

    At the destruction they saw
    They knew soon

    They would be in their element
    As the world descends into chaos
    The Dogs of war
    Are at foot

    The chaos is upon us
    The evil grows and grows

    And dark noises are heard
    Here and there

    And the dogs of war
    Smiled

    They knew soon
    They would be in their element

    The war machines
    Came to life

    The plans came out of the books
    The military might be unleashed

    And the Dogs of war
    Smiled and howled at the moon

    And the rest of the world
    Shuddered
    At the thought of what was yet to be

    Satan on the other hand
    Was happy as can be

    With the evil shit
    That was going down

    He smiled
    Patted his hell hounds
    And told his dogs

    The war to end all wars
    Armageddon is upon us my friend

    Soon, mankind will know
    The face of absolute evil

    And they will love it
    When I take over

    The armies prepare
    The bombers prepare

    And the dogs of war
    Are happy
    Unleashed to do their mischief

    And soon millions may die
    And the pits of hell
    Will open up

    And the judgement day
    May be upon us all

    Madness descends upon the land
    The fog of hate envelops us all

    And reason and civilization
    Fall away

    As the Dogs of War
    And their minions
    Take over the minds of man

    And the end of the world
    And the beginning of the end times
    Come upon us all

    The usual lies descend upon the world
    Kim Jong Un is evil personified

    He must be destroyed over there
    Before he can destroy us over here

    The lies continue unabated
    And Kim plays along
    With each day unleashing another threat

    With Trump and his minions
    Responding in time

    Saying the time for talk is over
    The time for robust action is here

    The machinery of war
    Once unleashed
    Can’t easily be stopped

    There is a certain cruel logic
    That demands that the war go on

    And people die
    And people suffer

    And the US goes bankrupt
    Morally and fiscally

    And the evil that men do
    Goes on and on and on

    But the war machine must be fed
    The munitions makers must be paid

    As each million-dollar missile is launched
    Millions more are made

    And the corporations
    Think of the endless profits
    To be made

    Every time they kill
    With the war machines

    But who cares about the victims
    They are nothing but collateral damage

    Who cares about the soldiers
    Nothing but cannon fodder

    Who gives a damn
    About the dead
    They are dead and gone

    Just think about the profits
    Think about the profits

    Satan is happy
    The dogs of war are free at last

    Idiots in High Places

    trump idiot in high place
    US President Donald Trump speaks about 5G network deployment in the Roosevelt Room of the White House in Washington, DC, on April 12, 2019. (Photo by NICHOLAS KAMM / AFP) (Photo credit  mini years ago I was amazed to find so many idiots in a place over the worldshould read NICHOLAS KAMM/AFP/Getty Images)

    this poem has been published in a number of other sites.

     

     

     

     

     

    Many years ago
    I was amazed to see
    So many idiots in high places how are name

    All over the world
    Senators, congressmen
    Office directors

    so many idiots
    in high place

    all over the world
    Presidents
    Corporation CEO’s

    All were idiots
    Completely stupid

    People who should have known
    A thing or so
    because they should have seen a thing or so

    and yet these idiots in high places
    would reveal their total ignorance

    every time they opened their mouth
    or tweet or email their profoundly wrong thoughts

    and it never ceased to amaze me
    that few ever challenged these idiots
    few ever said but you are wrong
    or you don’t have a clue

    and these idiots caused so much damage
    to those around them
    to the country and the world

    and now we have the idiot in chief
    in charge of the richest most powerful country
    the world has ever known

    and I wonder how
    in a country of 350 million people
    we ended up with such an idiot in charge

    But the idiots in high places phenomenon
    Exists everywhere

    Corporations made stupid decisions
    Countries make incredibly bad decisions

    And these idiots in high places
    Can’t hide their ignorance and pure stupidity

    They can’t pretend anymore
    In a world of 24/7 constant news

    The idiots every pronouncement
    Fills the airways 24/7

    And the only people who know better
    Are too afraid to say what they know

    That the idiot in high place
    Is an idiot
    and is destroying the world

    and so, we are doomed to die
    due to the idiots in high places

    Masters of The Universe

    this poem also has been published in a number of sites.

    The earth has been invaded
    By hideous blood sucking vampires
    Disgusting vile alien creatures
    Lacking any human empathy

    These so-called Masters of the universe
    These psychopathic monsters
    devoid of compassion
    Are everywhere
    They even took over the White house

    And to these vile creatures
    devoid of compassion human sympathy

    Everyone is nothing but a commodity
    they worship the god of the market
    While proclaiming that they serve Jesus

    Jesus would turn over in his grave
    To see these people in action

    Delta airlines
    facing the  worst hurricane in world history
    Decided that the expeditated thing to do
    Was to raise prices
    by 600 percent

    Instead of doing the right thing
    The compassion thing
    The human thing to do
    offering free flights

    Delta executives thus demonstrated
    That they are no longer humans
    doing the right thing

    But greed driven monsters
    As are all the other soulless automatons
    Who have taken over the world

    Perhaps some day
    Jesus will come back
    And smite these motherfuckers
    Send them to the hell they so richly deserve

    We can only pray
    For our deliverance from such evil
    Who have taken over the planet

    When Will This Madness End?

    gun
    gun

    first published in Poetry24

    poetry24 poems

    Yet again we turn on the TV
    And witness horrible scenes
    Of unparalleled violence, hatred and despair

    An old man consumed by his own demons
    Opens fire from a hotel room
    Killing 60 people injuring hundreds
    In Las Vegas, Sin City

    And the cry goes out throughout the land
    Why yet again this tragedy

    The usual suspects are rounded up
    It’s the culture, stupid cry the conservative voices

    And there is nothing we can do
    It is like the weather
    Bad shit happens

    Guns are the price of our freedom
    Guns Don’t Kill People
    The only solution is more guns for everyone

    The only solution for a bad guy with a gun
    Is a gun guy with a gun?
    An armed society is a polite society

    And people need assault weapons
    To go deer hunting

    No, it’s the guns, cry the liberal pundits
    We must confiscate the guns
    Ban Assault weapons
    And join the rest of the world
    Where such carnage does not occur

    And we sit around and argue
    Knowing that there will be a next time
    And another time and time and time again
    Until the end of time

    What is the sickness in our souls
    That allows for this hatred to fester so
    Deep within the minds of our killers
    And why is it that they are almost all
    White men with a grievance

    And almost never crazed Islamic terrorists
    Or black people
    Or women

    Why do they act the way they do
    Is it just the mindless violence
    That surrounds us all

    Violence is as American
    As Apple Pie

    The TV and movie purveyors
    Of pornographic violence

    The pornographic display of violence
    That washes across us every day
    The 8,000 murders we have seen
    By the time we are 18?

    Or is it simply
    That killers can easily
    Get the latest bang for their buck?

    We are all responsible here
    The negligent parents
    The overworked schools

    The soulless corporate world
    That treats everyone like disposable commodities

    The lack of human connection
    Maybe even the lack of God

    The police department
    Who think it is open season
    On black Americans

    Killing them with impunity
    Because they can

    And the gun sellers
    The NRA and their brain dead
    Captured politicians

    Who block all gun control legislation
    And even in the face of this carnage
    Want to make it easier to buy guns

    Even though 95 percent of Americans
    Want to end the gun show loophole
    Requiring background checks on all purchasers

    The NRA will prevent this measure
    And that measure
    And defend the right of the terrorist
    On the no fly list
    To be able to buy a gun

    Nothing will change
    Until we conflict the evil
    That lurks deep within each of us

    There will be another Las Vegas
    Soon enough

    Despite all our efforts
    Despite any new laws

    There will be evil men
    Who want to shoot and kill
    Who have somehow lost
    Their essential humanity

    Lao Tzu said
    The more laws there are
    The more criminals there will be

    More laws are not the answer
    For a law cannot make a sick soul whole

    If Satan lives on
    He is laughing
    All the way to the proverbial bank

    If God lives on
    He is ruing the day
    He created Mankind

    And the carnage will go on and on and on
    Until the day emerges
    When we all proclaim

    Enough, no more
    The killing, hatred and violence
    Will stop

    No More will our people
    Grow up to be such monsters

    That day will come soon enough
    Until then we will all suffer
    The wrath of the killer gun men
    In our midst.

    End of the World Blues

     

    californa wild fires
    A motorists on Highway 101 watches flames from the Thomas fire leap above the roadway north of Ventura, Calif., on Wednesday, Dec. 6, 2017. As many as five fires have closed highways, schools and museums, shut down production of TV series and cast a hazardous haze over the region. About 200,000 people were under evacuation orders. No deaths and only a few injuries were reported. (AP Photo/Noah Berger)

    The heat is simply malevolent today
    As if the very fires of hell were burning bright
    In anger at the idiots in high places

    That have so destroyed God’s wonderful creation
    Turning it into Hell on Earth

    It’s been hotter than this, I know,
    and maybe it’s just the angle of the sun,

    but there’s a deeply harsh quality to it.
    As the world burns up
    And the end of the world approaches

    The wind is blowing hard off the hills
    and visions of a great fire 26 years ago
    are spiking in my memory.

    People are reacting badly to this weather
    The commute in was hellish

    Every seemed to be speeding way
    above the speed limit.
    Driven mad by the heat and the wind

    There were multiple stalls and accidents.
    People were cutting each other off
    road raging in the extreme.

    Everyone seems to be feeling
    the way I was I wasI have

    Every man woman and child
    Was out for blood that day

    I was missed by inches
    by huge pickup trucks cutting me off.

    There are more street people
    acting aggressively near the campus,
    bothered
    barking and yelling and stalking around.

    Completely lost in their own world
    Sensing that the end of the world is near

    Students in the hallway
    aren’t chatting with each other.

    I haveEveryone seems irritated
    and haunted.

    Afraid that the end of the world
    Is upon us all

    The pool was a cool, silent refuge
    from all of this for an hour

    but the brassy relentless
    assault of the afternoon’s heat
    bore down on me

    just beat me down I have
    as I walked back to the office.

    I hope the day passes quickly,
    and no new fires start,
    and we all get home safe.

    From Ned Garret’s FB posting: near the campus Mark Hankiin scott

    Has anyone else notice that the heat is simply malevolent today? It’s been hotter than this, I know, and maybe it’s just the angle of the sun, but there’s a deeply harsh quality to it. The wind is blowing hard off the hills and visions of 26 years ago are spiking in my memory. People are reacting badly to this weather. The commute in was frightening in spots. Every other driver seemed to be speeding way above the speed limit. There were multiple stalls and accidents. People were cutting each other off and road raging in the extreme. I was missed by inches twice by huge pickup trucks cutting me off. There are more street people acting aggressively near the campus, barking and yelling and stalking around. Students in the hallway aren’t chatting with each other. Everyone seems irritated and haunted.

    The pool was a cool, silent refuge from all of this for an hour, but the brassy assault of the afternoon just beat me down as I walked back to the office. I hope the day passes quickly, and no new fires start, and we all get home safe.

    Comments

    While I acknowledge that “Dogs of War” in some ways reflects the grim scenarios currently at play in our shared world, I haven’t yet given up hope that the crumbling of the existing order we are witnessing might also represent the chaotic transition to a new and (hopefully, eventually) brighter future…if only because it’s difficult to live in despair.

    Also, when it comes to destroying the world, let’s not forget that we of USA are more capable of nuclear destruction than North Korea. Our arsenal is larger.
    Congratulations on your vivid poetic imagery. Keep writing.

    synchochaos.com

    the end

  • Joined Commaful

    Joined Commaful

    I’ve joined a new poetry site, Commaful check it out.

    Follow on Commaful” rel=”noopener” target=”_blank”>Follow on Commaful

    posted the following love poems there today

    Index

    1. The Story of How We Met *

    2. Chains that Bind Us *

    3. Where Do You and I Begin? *

    4. Changes **

    5. I Want You Right Now ***

     

    The Story of How We Met

    It all began in Berkeley, California
    In the spring time of 1974

    One fateful afternoon
    I was dozing in my high school
    Physics class.

    I looked up and saw
    A tall, beautiful Asian women
    standing looking at me.

    I screamed out,
    Who are you?

    She disappeared
    like she was beamed away from my dream.

    I knew that someday I would meet the girl
    In the dream

    Little did I know
    I would have to wait until 1982

    Starting that month
    I began having the same dream
    Month and month and month.

    Always the same.
    She was saying something
    To me in a strange language.

    Then one day I had the dream
    and knew that she was in Korea.

    So I chose to go Korea
    In the Peace Corps,

    Somehow knowing
    That I would meet her there.

    One day I was in a foul mood.
    I had decided to give up on dating Korean women,
    And on women in general

    After having had several relationships
    That did not go anywhere.

    I was thinking of returning to the States
    For Graduate school.

    That morning early in the morning
    I had the last of these dreams.

    This time I understood her.
    She said, “Don’t worry.
    We’ll meet soon.”

    That evening
    As I was getting off the bus
    To go to my class
    I saw getting off the bus
    The girl in my dream.

    It was she!
    I was speechless.
    I did not know what to do.

    Over the course of the evening
    I ran into her several times.
    Finally I was introduced to her.

    I muttered some lame excuse
    About wanting to find a Korean tutor,
    and got her number.

    The next day she came to the gate of my base.
    Where I was teaching ESL to Koreans

    She said that she had to speak with me.
    I told to wait in the library for about an hour,
    and I would cancel class
    and meet her then.

    We went out for coffee.
    She told me that she was madly
    in love with me

    And simply had to have me.

    I told her I felt the same way.
    I proposed five days later,
    And got married one month later.

    Does she believe this story?
    She claims she does not believe it
    Because it is impossible to be true.

    But I know that there are other worlds
    And other times.

    In a past life we must have been together somehow.
    And our love was so strong
    That it crossed over the barrier of past lives.

    She found me in 1974,
    But it took until 1982
    For us to actually meet.

    And it has been 26 years
    Since we met in the physical sphere
    Or 37 years since the dream began

    And I still recall the dream
    And meeting her

    I had no choice
    When I met her

    We were fated to be together
    Until the end of this lifetime
    And the next and the next

     

     

    Changes

     

    I reflect upon my life
    As the sun comes up

    What could I have changed
    What would I have changed

    If I could go back in time
    What would I tell my earlier self

    What would I do differently
    And what have I learned

    The one thing
    that I would not have changed
    is meeting the women of my dreams

    the chance meeting on a bus
    that changed everything
    in a momen

    tI met my fate
    That day on the bus

    And that is the end of the story

     

    I Want You Right Now
    I still want you

    More than anything else in life
    I want you\I want you next to me
    I want you every moment

    Of every minute

    Of every day
    I need you in my life

    I need your wisdom

    I need your kindness

    I need your beauty
    I need your special wit

    And I need your ability

    To deal with this cruel world
    I need you to save me

    From the demons

    That haunt my Soul
    For you are my soul mate

    The only person
    Whoever completed me

    And made life worth living

    Chains That Bind Us

     
    I realize that my love for you

    Is like a chain of steel

    Unbreakable,

    Tough as nails

     

    and yet as your love entangles me

    I realize that I embrace my imprisonment
    and don’t want to venture out of my cell
    Made of our years together

    bit by bit we have become entangled
    Where I end and you begin
    Hopelessly entangled

    Even if I wanted to break free
    I could not
    For I am you and you are me

    and my fate is in your hands
    and so I relax

    and decide to just
    Enjoy the ride of my life

    as we move towards the final moments
    together as we have always been

    Inseparable, merged into one being

    Starting at each other
    wondering who is that person
    of eternal mystery

    That has so captured my soul
    and imprisoned it in her love
    And I smile thinking of your love

    and the endless pleasure it has brought me
    and the endless pain I have endured
    just to be next to you
    and part of you

    Until the day I die
    and we meet in the next world

    Where Do I and You Begin?

    I woke up one day and realized
    I no longer knew

    where you and I began
    and where you and I ended

    we had become almost one
    We talked in half sentences

    Knowing what the other wanted

    and knowing how it would end

     

    We ate the same foods with some resistance

    because I still crave an old-fashioned American meal

    but still, we were becoming more and more the same

     

    and I feared losing myself

    In your embrace

    and becoming you

    and you becoming me

     

    and this fear of losing me

    in the ocean of us

    overwhelms me at times

     

    but I know I will always

    Return to your arms

     

    because I cannot live

    A moment without you at my side

     

    and I know you are the same

    we feel each other’s inner pain

    we feel each other’s outer pain

     

    and our history has merged

    into one

     

    and is that not the secret

    of a long marriage?

     

    Have I figured it all out

    in the end, does it come to this

    a merging of two souls and two bodies?

     

    I don’t have the answers

    But I don’t have any more doubts

    or regrets with the path I have taken

     

    I still look forward

    to waking up each morning

     

    Seeing you there

    and knowing that every day

    we have together
    is a gift that I will cherish

    Until my dying breath

     

  • Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

    Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

     

    Cosmos’s Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

    these poems were published on Poetry Soup from 2016 to now, covering a wide range of  topics and are my favorite and best poems.  I will post my All Poetry poems soon. Stay tuned for that, my friends.

    poetry soup link

    cosmic Haiku and other short poems

    Guns KIll People

    2017 April Poems

    April 2018 Poems

    April 2019 Poems

    Vietnam Poems

    first up are my recent gun poems followed by my other poems in roughly the order I posted them.  There were some duplicates removed as well.  See the poetry soup site for complete list of  the poems.

    If you don’t like them so be it. But I hope that you will consider them and think about what can we do as an nation to reduce the carnage on the streets.  Prayers and thoughts are not enough. Gun violence is not like the weather, ie. Something we can’t control. We can and must do something to combat this problem. 

    That’s my two cents worth and I am sticking to my guns (pun very much intended)

    here then are my gun poems

    index

    Another Day Another Shooting

    Mr. President Words Matter

    Chief of Staff, You are Absurd

    Guns Kill People

    NRA Please Stop Talking

    More Guns for Everyone in the World

    Virginia Beach Massacre Never Again Ever

    It’s a Gun Situation, Mr. President

    Prayer Works

    I don’t Get It

     

    Another Day Another Shooting

    pastedGraphic.png

    another day in paradise
    just another day in America
    land of the free
    Home of the brave

    and guns
    lots of guns
    more guns for all
    cries the NRA

    yes another day
    another gun battle
    another white man
    who just wants to kill

    the President sends his condolences
    Thanks the law enforcement
    for an incredible job well done
    It was horrible

    Hate has no place
    in our country
    and we will take of it
    and do what ever we can do

    condolences
    nothing but false words
    empty words
    lots of things to do

    it is mental illness problem
    but he fails to mention
    the words gun at all
    not at all

    and tomorrow and tomorrow
    but he at least finally said
    hate has no role in country
    nothing but prime BS
    in my humble opinion

    he did not mention
    white supremacy
    his rhetoric had nothing
    nothing to do about this at all

    and so tomorrow
    I will turn on the TV
    and we see
    nothing at all

    and the dead
    will remain dead
    the guns will fire again
    nothing will be done

    welcome to America
    land of the free
    home of the brave

    Mr. President Words Matter

    pastedGraphic_1.png

     

    Mr President
    Words matter
    your words matter

    your words of hate
    your words of division

    your words
    calling fellow human beings
    scum, vermit, faith
    invaders, animals
    matter

    they matter a lot
    and is it little wonder
    that people listen
    to the hate you sprew forth

    and some deranged people
    take action
    on your call
    for action

    against the invaders
    on the border
    they march to the border
    to kill the invaders

    your words matter
    Mr. President
    and your false words
    of regret

    fool no one
    the damage has been done
    the hate has been spread
    just as you intended

    and you
    have the gall
    to call yourself
    A Christian

    you are the anti-Christ
    you are not a Christian
    so please quite pretending
    to be what you are not

    please man up
    accept your responsibility
    set things right
    apologize

    the dead though
    don’t need your prayers
    they need action
    they need leadership

    and you are the president
    so please start acting
    like you give a damn

    and if you do so
    perhaps
    you will find
    people will follow you

    but please
    quite the words
    of hate
    the words that hurt

    and quit calling immigrants
    invaders and vermin
    they are human beings
    they are deserving of respect

    this I ask of you
    In Jesus’s name
    even though I am not a Christian
    please Donald Trump group

    and become the president
    of the people
    and end the war of words
    and constant hate

    Chief of Staff, You are Absurd

    pastedGraphic_2.png

    the President’s chief of staff
    said the other day
    it was absurd
    to suggest that the president’s words
    had anything to do
    with recent mass shootings

    yet is it absurd
    to see the lengths
    to which the President’s supporters
    will twist and turn
    spinning away
    the inconvenient truth

    President Trump
    is a racist bigot con man
    who somehow
    conned his way
    to become President

    he call immigrants
    criminals, vermin, animals
    invaders
    infesting the country

    the El Paseo shooter
    said that he went to the border
    to shoot the invaders
    and said
    that he was a big Trump fan

    it is not absurd
    to connect these two huge dots
    the President’s words
    has real world consequences

    Yes Mr. Trump is a racist pig
    and his supporters
    are being absurd
    to suggest otherwise

    Guns Kill People

    pastedGraphic_3.png

    Guns
    guns kill people
    guns do kill people

    it is not mental illness
    it is not video games
    it is not a million other things

    it is simply this
    a gun is a weapon
    a weapon designed to kill people
    that is what guns do

    guns don’t care
    they do as they are told
    if you pull the trigger
    they will kill the victim

    that is what guns do
    that is why
    in a civilized society
    military assault weapons
    are locked up

    yet in America
    the land of the free
    home of the brave
    everyone and his cousin
    must have their gun

    guns for everyone
    cries the NRA
    that’s the solution

    The president
    and his supporters
    deny the obvious

    guns kill people
    that’s all they do
    it is a gun thing
    you would not understand

    so Mr. President
    you can take your words
    your empty platitudes
    your empty promises

    straight to hell
    and back

    where with any luck
    Satan will use you
    as target practice

    NRA Please Stop Talking

    pastedGraphic_4.png

    Another day

    Another mass shooting
    Another incident

    of domestic terrorism
    another gun man

    killing people

    because just because
    The NRA
    And their stooges
    Come out
    Flood the airways

    With their noxious

    Poisonous weasel words
    The NRA says

    Mass shootings
    Are like the weather
    You can’t control them

    You can’t predict them
    And you can’t prevent them

    Just have to accept
    It is all god’s will
    Guns don’t kill people

    IF guns were outlawed
    Only outlaws
    Would have guns

    Only solution
    Is more guns
    For everyone
    An armed society

    they say
    Is a polite society
    Support for gun control
    Is

    socialist/communist/fascist/anti-American/anti-Christian nonsense

    The beginning of tyranny
    If only the Jews had guns
    The holocaust would not have happened

    Jesus would want us all
    to be armed
    with machine guns

    To protect us against the evil doers
    It is the Christian thing to do
    To blow away evil doers

    With heavy arms
    In America

    Land of the free
    Home of the brave

    We can’t do anything
    At all

    About the mass carnage
    Unleashed by madmen with guns
    Who walk among us
    Searching for their next victims

    Any restriction of the right
    To bear arms
    Is tyranny at its worst

    The nanny state run amuck
    Talking about gun control
    After a tragic event
    Is

    just not the appropriate time
    We only need prayers
    and meaningless thoughts

    Universal background checks
    Too onerous

    Registering guns
    Too burdensome

    Researching gun violence
    waste of tax payer money

    banning military style assault weapons
    restricts my right to blow
    away
    Bambi the deer
    with a M16

    the NRA will keep talking
    talking and talking
    preventing anything
    from being done

    and we will have another
    Mass shooting event
    Before the day is out

    So my plead
    This day

    To the NRA

    and their stoogies

    Talk is cheap
    Your comments
    Are not helping

    If you can’t
    Be a part of the solution

    Just stop talking
    Please stop talking
    And let the rest

    Of us  figure out
    How to stop
    The madness in the streets

    And stop the carnage
    So NRA
    Please
     just
     stop
     talking
     Now

    More Guns for Everyone in the World

    pastedGraphic_5.png

    The NRA has decided
    That the best solution to global problem
    Of rampant violence and crime everywhere

    Is for the rest of the world
    To become like the U.S.
    Where anyone can buy a gun
    As an armed society is a polite society’

    And so the President is about to announce
    A global campaign against gun control restrictions
    As these restrictions are an undue burden
    On the rights of the US arms manufactures

    To sell their guns everywhere in the world
    As everyone wants what we have to sell
    The best weapons in the world

    Instead of trying to limit the damage
    That unrestricted gun sales
    Have done to the U.S.

    Our President, our great leader
    Wants to sell more guns
    Everywhere in the world

    And there are eager buyers
    Lining up around the world
    Eager to buy the best guns
    The world has ever seen

    We want to export
    The gun madness
    That has infected our society
    Leaving behind so many dead bodies

    The dead were not consulted
    For they remain dead
    They do not vote
    They have no voice

    For the guns silenced
    them for good
    just as the guns intended
    Just doing their gun thing after all

    Humanity has evolved
    From stones to arrows
    To guns
    To nuclear, biological weapons

    And the U.S.
    While proclaiming itself
    A champion of Human Rights

    Remains nothing but a country
    Of gun runners
    Merchants of death
    And destruction

    Trump Administration Advances Plan to Relax Gun-Export Rules found Poem

    The Trump administration 

    Sought to relax export rules for American small arms,

     including semiautomatic rifles, handguns, and sniper rifles.

    Because the NRA said 

    the solution to gun violence

    aIs more guns

     for everyone in the world

    Everyone should be able

     to buy American made weapons

    The best in the world after all

    And everyone in the world 

    needs what the US 

    Wants to sell

    The shift,

     is championed by gunmakers

     who say it

     will make them more competitive 

    in the international market. 

    Critics argue 

    an export policy 

    that favors commercial interests

     could put the national security

     of the United States at risk 

    or harm diplomatic efforts.

     “This decision is also politically tone-deaf 

    as our nation reckons 

    with a gun violence epidemic.”

    A State Department spokesman 

    said that the change

     would ease the regulatory burden 

    on American gun makers

     and allow them to compete better globally.

    Currently, the Department of State 

    monitors exports of nearly all weapons 

    .

    “The world of firearms exports 

    is full of questionable, dubious characters.”

    the Department of Justice

     and Department of Homeland Security

     criticized the change 

    because it could make it

     easier for transnational criminal organizations

     or terrorists to get American-made guns.

    But the NRA

    They don’t care

    More guns for all

    Is the solution to all gun violence

    And sadly,  our President 

    Has sold his soul

    To the NRA

    Who offered him 

    Millions of dollars

    In blood money

    more guns for everyone

    based on following article

    The Trump administration on Monday advanced a long-sought-after plan to relax export rules for American s

    mall arms, including semiautomatic rifles, handguns, and sniper rifles.
    In a private briefing with members of Congress, State Department officials outlined a proposed rule change that would transfer oversight of gun exports to the Department of Commerce. The proposed rule will be published in the Federal Register later this week, where it will be subject to public comment for 45 days. While it is unlikely, Congress could block the change using powers under the Congressional Review Act.

    The shift, which was first proposed by the Obama administration in 2012, is championed by gunmakers who say it will make them more competitive in the international market. Critics argue an export policy that favors commercial interests could put the national security of the United States at risk or harm diplomatic efforts.

    “Weakened Congressional oversight of international small arms and munitions sales is extremely hazardous to global security,” said Senator Ben Cardin of Maryland, a Democrat who serves on the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, in an emailed statement. “This decision is also politically tone-deaf as our nation reckons with a gun violence epidemic.”
    A State Department spokesman said that the change would ease the regulatory burden on American gun makers and allow them to compete better globally.

    Currently, the Department of State monitors exports of nearly all weapons through the U.S. Munitions List. Since 2002, the department has been required to notify Congress of overseas sales of firearms worth more than $1 million.

    In 2016, the State Department alerted the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to a proposed sale of more than 26,000 rifles to the Philippines. Cardin at the time objected to arming the regime of PhilippinePresident Rodrigo Duterte, who had inaugurated a wave of thousands of extrajudicial killings as part of a crackdown on drugs. The weapons deal was canceled as a result.

    The proposed rule change would transfer control over the sale of small arms to the Commerce Control List, and Congress would no longer be notified of large purchases.
    Some arms control experts say reduced oversight could provide criminals, terrorists, or hostile states an opportunity to purchase American weapons.
    Under Department of Commerce weapon-export rules, “companies aren’t required to provide as much information about brokers or shipping” as they must under State Department supervision, said Colby Goodman, who examines American weapons exports as director of the Security Assistance Monitor program at the Center for International Policy in Washington. “The world of firearms exports is full of questionable, dubious characters.”

    The rule change has been long in the making. It was first proposed in 2012 by the Obama administration, but abandoned shortly after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. At the time, the Department of Justice and Department of Homeland Security criticized the change because it could make it easier for transnational criminal organizations or terrorists to get American-made guns.

    In September, Reuters reported that the Trump administration was interested in reviving the rule change to encourage more international arms sales. With the formal commencement of the public comment period, the preparation has become a policy reality.
    In April, the Trump administration said it would now consider economic factors in addition to security when it comes to selling American weapons overseas.
    The Trump administration has argued that the change would aid the domestic gun industry by cutting down on export regulation. American consumer sales of firearms have suffered since the 2016 election. After years of elevated sales in anticipation of possible new gun-control measures imposed by Democratic lawmakers, domestic demand subsided as Republicans took full control of the federal government.
    – ALEX YABLON

    Virginia Beach Massacre Never Again Ever

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    Virgina Beach
    In a night of horrific scumbagery violence
    Rarely seen in this jaded age of ours
    Gone in one hour

    In a spasm of horrific scumbagery violence
    In just a few short minutes
    Nothing more than that
    In just a few moments
    All 12 victims were murdered

    By a disgruntled employee
    Every one he knew was shot
    And killed for no reason

    Caused by the demons
    His soul was so infected

    Murderous demonic voices
    All in his head
    Screaming kill them all kill them all
    Screaming none stop violence in his head
    All the time

    Causing him to start shooting everyone he saw
    Regardless of who they were or where they were
    Everyone must die screamed the demonic voices in his head

    No one can be left alive
    Everyone must die
    Virtually all must die in his internal video game
    Everyone must die
    Regardless of who they were or where they were

    Again just another day
    Gone horribly wrong
    All across America
    In every town
    No where is safe anymore

    Virgina Beach massacre

    Virgina Beach massacre
    Just another

    Average night in America
    An Active Shooter

    scumbagery violence
    Rarely seen

    in this jaded wild world
    Gone in one hour

    In a spasm of horrific
    scumbagery

    In just a less than 30 short minutes
    Nothing more than

    In just a few short 30 moments
    All the victims

    were murdered while at their daily work
    wrong place wrong time

    act of a demotic deranged madman
    voices screaming Kill

    The voices scream death to all humans
    All must be killed

    The voices scream over and over
    All must die now

    Just another night in America
    Home of the free

    It’s a Gun Situation, Mr. President

    pastedGraphic_7.png

    Mr. President
    You are wrong once again
    You said that the tragic events in Texas
    And Las Vegas were not “gun situations”
    But rather were mental health problems

    And that in Texas if there had been gun controls
    Perhaps fewer people would have died

    Mr. President
    I know you a smart man
    The smartest man in the world
    According to you

    So please contemplate this fact
    According to the latest findings
    It is a gun situation

    In fact, the reason the U.S.
    Has so many gun deaths
    Is because we have so many guns
    45% of the worlds guns in fact

    And 33 percent of the world’s shooters
    Are Americans killing other Americans

    And most of them the majority of them
    Are White People killing other people

    Not Islamic terrorists
    Most are in fact
    Self-proclaimed Christians

    So Mr. President
    When will you come to your senses

    And do what 90 percent of the public wants
    Enact nation wide effective gun controls?

    And tell the NRA
    they can take their blood money elsewhere

    When Mr. President
    When will you act
    When will you take charge

    And become a President of the people
    Instead of the President of the NRA?

    Prayer Works

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    Dear Speaker Ryan

    I want to tell you something
    The dead don’t want your prayers
    The dead don’t care that you pray for them
    They are dead after all

    And you and your so-called Christians
    Are to blame
    You refuse to do anything
    Anything at all to stop the carnage
    In our streets

    The U.S. is flooded with guns
    And more are sold every day

    Millions of people don’t have health coverage
    Millions are barely surviving
    And your answer
    Our dear great compassionate Speaker

    Your answer
    Is Prayer works
    Government action does not

    You act as if the gun violence
    Plaguing our country
    Was like the weather
    Beyond our control

    So here’s my prayer for you
    And your colleagues

    When you die
    I pray that God
    Will send you

    And your friends
    Straight to hell

    Where Satan and his demons
    Will use you for target practice

    That’s my prayer to you
    And as you know
    Prayer works

    I don’t Get It

     

    pastedGraphic_9.png

    Mr. Speaker
    I admit I don’t get it
    How does prayer
    Stop gun violence?

    Prayer did not work in Texas.
    26 people were murdered
    while praying.

    God if he exists
    Obviously does not care
    About the poor people
    Who died in his church

    Because a mad man
    Got a gun

    And no they were not praying
    To be delivered from death
    No one deserves to die like this

    So my prayer to you
    Is simply this
    Get off your rear end
    Rally the country

    And do something
    About gun violence

    That’s a prayer
    I hope works

    Prayer Does Not Work

    Add House Speaker Paul Ryan to the list of Republicans offering only thoughts and prayers in the wake of Sunday’s mass shooting in a Texas church, because taking meaningful action is always off the table with him and his party.
    Speaking with Fox News Channel’s Laura Ingraham last night, Ryan reiterated that the victims and their families need more prayers because “prayer works.”

    26 people were murdered while praying. Even Christians ought to admit that prayer doesn’t make a damn bit of difference and their God will do whatever their God wants to do, even if it means letting people die in church because a domestic abuser got his hands on a semi-automatic weapon.
    Not that Ryan would ever say that.

    Instead, he just blamed the “far secular Left” for not getting it.

     

    It is Darker Than You Think

     

     

    an old hag

    an old witch
    strictly old school

    is talking to young people
    She tells them
    that it is darker
    than they think

    the end times approach
    She proclaims
    she sees the world ending

    and is warning them
    of what is to come
    She is following
    the dark master

    of the universe
    waiting for the end
    and she is afraid
    she sees the world

    the end of things
    the end of life
    She is afraid

    she tells her students
    to boldly face
    the coming end
    with fear
    and trepidation

    and anxiety
    waiting for the end
    and in the end
    of the worl

    they will be born
    again as things
    circle back

    to the beginning
    of the end
    and the end

    of the beginning
    thus it has always
    played out
    in the world

    endless nightmares
    and in the end,
    she will wake up
    and embrace her fate

    at the end of time

    License

     

    bankers have a license to steal
    money from their clients
    if you make a mistake
    the bank can steal your money
    as part of their banking license

    Governments have a license
    to steal money
    from the publicits is called taxation
    or confiscation

    It seems
    that police these days
    have a license
    to kill
    unarmed brown people
    but only brown people

    and the president
    has a license
    to lie

    as he lies
    all the time
    just because he can

    and I have
    the ultimate license

    the poetic license
    to write
    these verses
    to enlighten the masses

    Why Are There So Many Fake Cherokees

    Erasure Poem

    So many fake Indians these days
    Elizabeth Warren is one

    And according to my DNA results
    I am too

    But my grand-parents
    spoke Cherokee my mom claims
    And they disappeared into the hills
    She claims

    Is the DNA test wrong?
    Was I adopted ?
    Or is it possible

    That I am a real deal
    A real Cherokee
    Or am I fake Cherokee???

    A Cherokee weighed in on this on Quora

    First, I would never call them “fake Natives”.
    They are 99% white,
    mostly Blue-collar,
    and New Age Hippie,

    Anglo-Americans
    who are simply
    lost without their own specific identity
    that they can proudly Claim,

    so therefore,
    they search for a certain Popular,
    Romanticized segment of Indigenous People

    that will “fit”
    into their Family’s historical Lore.

    Second, it just happens
    to ALWAYS be …
    the Cherokee …

    sometimes,
    either Blackfoot or Lakota.

    AND, “My GGM
    was a Cherokee Princess”,
    as an add-on VALUE.

    This is primarily
    because of the vast area
    formerly inhabited by the Cherokee.

    However, the tribes’ interaction
    with European immigrants
    since colonial times,

    led to a great deal of intermarriage
    with non-indigenous populations.

    In many cases people have limited knowledge
    of the other Native American nations,
    that inhabited the areas in which they live.

    However, a lot of this is wishful thinking,
    and these people have African American
    or other non-European ancestry.

    It is fashionable to claim indigenous ancestry ,
    in an attempt to legitimize t
    Their sense of belonging on our lands.

    The reason is simple,
    they don’t know the names
    of the other tribes.

    There has never been a song called
    “Indian Reservation” about Apache People
    or any other tribe

    but, the Cherokee.
    “Indian Reservation”
    by Paul Revere and the Raiders.

    So if those people aren’t Cherokee
    by blood at least it’s in spirit.

    And so I conclude
    I may be part Cherokee
    Part of the lost tribe

    Of the Cherokee
    But who really knows

    My mother took many things
    With her to the grave

    Lots of family secrets
    Things I will never know

    But in my heart
    I know
    That I am part Cherokee

    And so I will proudly
    Claim I am part Cherokee

    In spirt
    If not in blood

    Love Cinquain

    My Love
    Haunting my dreams
    Nightly talking to me
    Then walked out of the dreams into
    my Life

    Nightmare Cinquain

    Nightmares
    Endless fears all night long
    Can’t escape running from these dreams
    All night

     

    Man Child President

    A little man child
    Is our great and glorious dear leader
    Filled with hatred and jealousy
    Fear of failure haunts his every step

    The little man child
    Covers up his failures
    With bluster, bravado
    And constant attack

    The little man child
    Always attacking his enemies
    Plotting revenge all the time
    Consumed with slights and insults

    The little man child
    Lost millions of dollars

    The little man child
    Lost the popular vote

    The little man child
    Has lost the respect of the world
    And 60 percent of Americans
    Want to see him gone

    The little man child
    Has infected the body politic
    With his insidious poison

    A slowly growing cancer
    The little man child
    Will end up destroying

    The country
    Before he is through

    The little man child
    Can’t leave office
    For fear of going to prison
    So we are stuck with him

    The little man child
    Will never leave us
    Until he is resting
    In peace

    President Trump International Fire Chief

    Our dear leader
    Our favorite President
    President Trump

    Once again
    Interjected himself
    Into areas that he knows nothing about

    Making a fool of himself
    In the process

    Why does he do this?
    Time after time
    Talking nonsense

    It is because
    He is the smartest man
    In the universe

    Knows more than anyone else
    And so he feels
    He has to comment
    On everything

    Under the sun
    And then some more
    Even when he
    Does not know
    What he is talking about

    So painful to watch such a fool
    Mark Twain had sage advice
    If you want people to think
    You are a fool
    Open your mouth
    and remove all doubt

    In the midst
    Of the devastating
    Paris Norte Dame fire

    He tweeted
    “So horrible to watch the massive fire
    at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,”

    “Perhaps flying water tankers
    could be used to put it out
    Must act quickly!”

    Later, Mr. Obvious noted,
    They’re having a terrible
    terrible fire,”

    Mr Trump later told reporters.
    “It looks like
    it’s burning to the ground.”

    The French were not amused
    By the unwanted advice
    By the fire fighter in chief

    France’s civil defense agency,
    Sécurité Civile, tweeted —

    once in French
    and once in English

    — less than two hours after Mr Trump

    sent his tweet
    and appeared

    to directly respond to the US president.

    “Helicopter or aeroplane,
    the weight of the water
    and the intensity of the drop
    at low altitude

    could indeed weaken
    the structure of Notre Dame
    and result in collateral damage
    to the buildings in the vicinity,”

    the agency wrote in French.
    And despite never posting updates in English,

    the agency then sent out a second tweet.

    Hundreds of firemen of the Paris Fire Brigade are doing everything they can to bring the terrible #NotreDame fire under control. All means are being used, except for water-bombing aircrafts which, if used, could lead to the collapse of the entire structure of the cathedral.

    — Sécurité Civile Fr (@SecCivileFrance) April 15, 2019

    And the French provided

    This helpful advice
    To the Fire Fighter in chief

    When California burned
    you did not seem to be a fire expert.

    Please, shut up.

    It is a tragic moment
    for the cultural heritage of humanity.

    Catching the Trump Madness


    Releasing the Trump Monsters

    The Trump madness deepens
    And the world grows darker
    The evil ones have been released
    The wild things are growling

    The dogs of war
    Satan’s hell hounds
    Are on the loose

    Howling at the moon
    Running amuck
    Infecting us all
    With their madness

    As we all turn
    into mindless zombies
    Filled with hatred
    Jealousy and insanity

    As Trump
    and his neo-fascist
    Cabal unleash the monsters
    Of their dangerous id

    Devouring all reason
    Turning all they see
    Into raving lunatics

    As they set the world on fire
    Ushering in the ends of days

    Armageddon looms
    Will Trump be raptured away?

    Only God knows
    And he is not telling

    As we descend
    Into the maelstrom
    Hoping against hope

    That we can overcome
    The monsters
    That Trump has unleashed

    In the end
    Perhaps it does not matter

    As the world careens
    Deeper into hell
    There is no end

    Nothing but despair
    Forever and ever

    prayer for future of the planet

    A shaman priestess
    Is deep in thought

    Engaged in Meditation
    on the fate
    Of the earth

    She is deep in the cosmic woods
    In the world between worlds

    Where she is communing
    With the spirits of the universe
    Who listen to her tale of woe

    She tells them
    Of the rise of the neo-fascists
    And the refusal to address

    The possible end of the world
    Due to run away climate change
    She prays and prays

    And finally
    She receives an answer
    More a prediction
    It is all up to humans

    She has two visions
    Of a possible future

    Two contrasting visions
    One a dystopian nightmare
    The other an optimistic vision

    The first
    The neo-fascists
    Seize control

    And usher in a dystopian nightmare
    That ends with utter destruction

    Nuclear war
    Nuclear winter
    Ends climate change

    As civilization ends
    And mankind retreat to caves

    And it happens
    In a blink of an eye

    In less than five years
    The world will end
    Game over civilization ends

    The second vision
    The optimistic vision

    Humanity wakes up
    From their collective night mare
    Throws off the neo-fascist cabal

    And begin to change the world
    Making the economy works
    For all of us

    Not just the corrupt 1 percent
    The so-called masters of the Universe

    They are overthrown
    In a people’s power revolution

    All over the world
    People wake up
    Demand change

    And slowly the world
    Begins to recover
    And overcome

    The dark hours
    Of the present age

    The shaman priestess
    Returns home
    To spread the word

    It up to us
    To choose our fate
    The end is indeed near

    It is darker than you think
    But it is not over yet

    If we choose the path
    Of the cosmic light

    And overthrow
    The neo-fascist cabal
    And restore democracy

    And peace will break out
    And all will end well
    If not

    Well she says
    You have been warned

    The universe has spoken
    So, mote it be

    lucky numbers blues

    There are many gambler’s fallacies
    the statisticians say
    each roll of the roulette table
    is an independent event

    Yet the gamblers believe
    that if for example
    there were ten red numbers

    in a row
    that the next one should be black
    right

    A statistician in the U,K.
    decided to prove
    that the gamblers
    were all delusional

    in insisting that there were patterns
    in the endless spin of the wheel
    and that it was more of a curve

    that the noise of random numbers
    after thousands of spins
    recorded on a computer

    the pattern was clear
    there was a bell shape curve

    with an upswing
    and a downswing to the data

    an early experiment
    in chaos theory

    but with a practical application
    if you are on a winning curve
    keep going until the curve

    turns into a losing curve
    then walk away

    and you might be a winner
    according to science

    but they have yet
    to be able to prove/disprove

    that lucky numbers exist
    for you and me
    mine was always 32

    and when it pops
    I swore that my lucky number
    came up

    just a fluke
    according to science

    another iron clad rule
    the regression to the mean

    the curve may go up
    and may go down

    but in the end
    it regresses to the mean
    and that means

    the house always wins

     morning thoughts

    Every morning I wake up
    And see the love of my life

    Sleeping soundly
    In our bed
    The sun fills my room

    And I get up
    To do my morning routine
    Just marveling at the sight

    And as I do my thing
    I am drawn back to bed

    Just to look
    At this strange creature
    That captured my heart
    So many years ago

    And I wonder yet again
    At the mystery of our love
    How and why

    Did the universe bring us together?
    Where did she come from
    And why did she summoned me?

    I have no answers
    Our love transcended
    The barriers of time
    And space

    And somehow
    We found each other
    And will be together

    Until the death of time

    April 8th Santa James Comes to Town

    In this dark and dangerous time
    That we live in
    We seldom hear tales
    Of inspiration, hope and love

    Yet when we do hear such tales
    It fills us with wonder
    And hope that some how
    We can do better

    Life can be better
    Love can conquer hate

    And decency can prevail
    Over the dark forces all around us
    In Kingman, Arizona

    An old blind homeless man appeared
    Out of nowhere he showed up

    And started walking about
    He was polite, friendly and not scary
    Did not want anything from any one

    And somehow he conquered the town
    Who adopted him

    They called him Santa James
    Because he wore a red Santa cape

    And he was just so
    filled with good will
    Laughter, advice and stories

    Boy did he spin good stories
    Poetic allusions
    And just radiated goodness

    Everyone fell in love
    with Santa James
    He was given a job

    Playing piano
    Given a room to stay in

    Spoke at the local schools
    And churches

    And to any one
    who stopped him
    He remembered everyone’s name

    And life story
    Even though he was blind

    He could see the good in everyone
    And that is the moral of the tale of mine

    here is goodness all around us
    If only we open our hearts
    To accept it

    We have the power
    To reject hate
    To reject division

    And accept love
    If only Santa James spirit
    Could spread across this country

    We could heal our wounds
    And become united again

    That is my prayer
    Perhaps Santa James
    Is really a saint

    The real thing
    Who knows

    All we know
    Is that Santa James
    Came to town

    And the rest
    Is the history
    We will make of it

    Long Live Santa James

     Coffee  Love Hate Affair

    I love coffee
    Always have
    Always will

    But I have
    a love-hate affair
    With coffee

    Love it when it gets me
    uplifting high in the sky
    As the sun comes over

    Filling with hope
    And anticipation

    As I conquer the day’s
    Daunting tasks
    With a little help
    From my drug of choice

    But coffee turns on me
    Late in the day
    And I can’t sleep

    just can’t sleep
    As the coffee burns
    In my soul

    And I toss and turn
    And sleep no more

    Coffee does that to me
    And so,

    I am reduced
    To drinking decaf coffee
    or fake herbal coffee
    Not the same thing at all

    But that is all I can handle
    As I am a coffee addict
    And always will be

    Coffee Blues

    Coffee
    is my drug
    of choice
    Always has been

    Ever since
    I first tried it
    As a young lad
    so many decades ago

    Loved coffee’s power
    To speed up
    my synaptic nerves
    Turning me on

    Keeping me going
    and going and going
    But there is a dark
    side to everything

    And coffee is a drug
    And it will take you
    Where it wants to go

    Enslaving you
    Making you its victim
    As it toys with you

    Messes with you
    Prevents you
    from sleeping

    Coffee
    is a harsh mistress
    It demands respect

    As you fall
    under it seductive powers
    Slave again
    To the drug of choice

    Just another over-caffeinated
    Coffee addict
    Stumbling along the street
    Looking for a fix

    At six in the morning
    As the coffee wears off
    And you finally
    Can get some sleep

    Until the alarm
    Blasts you away
    And you reach out
    Trembling for your fix

    Coffee

    you scream out
    I need coffee
    The universe laughs
    As you get your coffee high

    Just another pathetic
    coffee junkie
    When all is said

    and done

     Messenger Dog of God

    One day
    While studying in Rome
    As a priest

    I notice a small white dog
    Staring at me

    He glances at me
    Indicating that I am to follow him

    I get up
    And follow this strange dog
    He leads me deep

    Inside the hidden depths
    Of the Vatican
    Finally stopping by a door

    I open the door
    And see St Peter there

    He smiles
    Dismisses the dog
    Who moves on down the hall

    Finished with his cosmic duty
    As the secret messenger of God
    All in a days work
    I ask why am I here?

    St Peter says
    Why are any of us here?

    It is time for you to go

    But I don’t want to go
    Don’t want to leave this mortal plane
    St Peter smiles

    Says it is time to go
    I wake up

    Back in my bed
    With my wife
    And realize it was all a dream

    It was not yet time
    To go

    But I am afraid
    I will find the messenger dog
    Outside my door

    Any day now
    The grim reaper waits

    And it will soon be my time

    just for today

    today
    just for today
    I plan to do nothing
    nothing at all

    just go with the flow

    of the day

    as the day turns into night
    and the night turns into sleep
    I will ride the wave
    along

    with my love

    until the day is done

    it’s a dog’s life for me

    an agnostic dyslectic
    stays up all night
    wondering if there is a dog
    the Buddhists wonder
    about the Buddha nature of the dog

    the evangelicals are sure that there is a dog
    and you must follow their dog

    or go to hell
    for following another’s dog

    the Muslims agree

    there is only one dog
    and the dogs
    smile at the foolishness
    of the human race

    of course, there is a dog

    and they are the master race

    as they growl at their owners
    who bow down

    and clean up their mess

    it can’t happen, or has it

    Every day when I watch TV
    I see the chattering classes
    The TV pundits
    And their guests
    Pontificate about this and that

    And it seems to me
    That they are missing the big picture
    In the era of Donald Trump

    Nothing that they say
    Will make a difference

    Donald Trump has slowly conquered
    The political world
    And he is shaping it into something

    That we had hoped we would never see
    A truly American neo-fascist state
    Wrapped around the flag

    And so-called Christian values
    And the latest made up outrage

    And the chattering classes
    Don’t seem to understand

    That they are next
    On the hit parade
    As the Donald Trump machinery
    Continues to take over
    the known universe

    The question used to be

    It can’t happen here
    The answer I am afraid
    Is already has

    so excited to be alive

    I wake up
    with the dawning sun
    this morning
    I was so excited

    to be alive

    at age 63

    I look at my sleeping beauty
    and realize yet again
    my life began

    te day I met her

    37 years ago

    she walked off a bus
    out of my dreams
    and into my life

    and my life began
    that autumn day

    when I met
    the girl of my dreams

    trump

    Triumphed against all enemies
    Remaining unvanquished
    Uniting all who oppose him
    Might makes right

    Patriots unite behind the Great Leader

    just an unhinged werewolf howling at the moon

     

    as the lunatic light of the blood red moon
    the super blue moon lights up the night

    the werewolf stirs
    as the light shines on him

    slowly transforming him

    into a dark dangerous creature
    of the lunatic night

    ready for his flight

    out into the world,
    he emerges

    snarling

    howling at the moon

    just another unhinged

    werewolf
    out for blood today

    howling at the moon

    scorpion night of passion

    Born in October
    Scorpion Passionate fool
    Always taking the lead

    consumed with dark desires

    is this Scorpio buddha nature

    consumed with dark desires

    Glow

     

     

    Glowing light of the dawning sun
    Lights up my dismal room
    Overwhelming me with love

    Watching my dream girl sleep

    old woman and the genie

    An old Chinese woman

    Stands in a field
    On the lunatic edge of town

    Where drinkers gather to drink

    And woman of ill repute

    Play their games

    With the passing drunks
    Men ready for a night of passion

    She is holding a tea pot

    And proclaims

    That the pot contains

    A genie
    That will grant the new owner

    Three wishes

    She had to sell the pot

    Because her wishes came true

    And she smiles
    And laughs insanely

    The laughter dies

    And she implores people

    To buy her tea pot

    And put her out of misery
    Just buy my pot

    And your dreams will come true

    Be careful dear thought

    Remember all magic

    Comes with a price
    A terrible price

    trapped back of the bus

    hitching a ride

     

    Back of the Bus

    Many years ago

    When I was a foolish young man
    I took a greyhound bus trip

    Just to see the country

    I was trapped
    In the back of the bus

    Where the young
    And restless souls

    Gathered together

    And drank illegally
    And smoked weed

    Also illegally
    We stayed there

    Until Winnemuca

    Where I got off
    And found my bus pass

    Had found another owner

    Ad I went to Salt Lake City

    Still trapped in the back of the bus

    down and out in Saigon

     

    Down and Out in Saigon
    Southeast Asia, and Mexico
    has always attracted

    A certain type of westerner

    The down and out

    On a down word spiral
    Why?
    Relatively cheap to live

    Lots of part-time gigs

    Teaching English

    Or other things
    Cheap Booze, drugs, sex
    Readily available

    Places to stay

    Dirt cheap

    And no one needs
    To sleep outdoors
    Easy to disappear

    Into the foreigner’s backpackers ghettos

    And escape

    From whatever you are running from
    The locals are somewhat tolerant
    The police usually look the other way

    And there are lots of people

    In your shoes

    I was surprised to find
    That Saigon has become
    The latest place

    For the down and outer crowd

    In Bangkok, one sees them a lot

    In Cambodia as well

    In the Philippines

    In Nepal

    And south of the border

    In Mexico as well

    and Eastern Europe

     

    And Latin America

    In India not so much

    In Japan and Korea

    Just too damn expensive

    And too cold to be outdoors

    Back in the day

    I used to work

    The citizen services gig

    And saw lots of the down

    and out set

    The old blues song

    comes to mind

    No one remembers you

    When you are down and out

    And in the States

    Being down and out

     

    Means living

    on the mean streets

    As it is very difficult

    To live with almost no money

    And the various side hustles

    Don’t give you much money

    Unless you are dealing drugs

    And teaching ESL

    Is not an option

    other hustles are difficult

    and begging gets one arreste

    Food is expensive

    Transportation is expensive

    Booze and drugs expensive

    Rent is prohibitive

    Commercial sex is expensive

    And no one loves you

    If you are down and out

    No one knows your name

    You are just another

    homeless bum

    Invisible to all

    As you try to make do

    Much better to be down and out

    In Southeast Asia

    Than on the mean streets

    Of the USA

    Ghosts Along the Jungle Path in Vietnam

    walking down a lonely trail

    in the jungles of Vietnam

    fleeing the ghosts of the Viet Kong

    down the Chu Chi Trail

    pursued by ghosts

    and memories of war

    and the horror

    that lay beneath my feet

    wondering yet again

    was it worth it

    the war

    the thousands of dead

    silent witnesses

    lie beneath my feet

    silent witnesses

    to the folly of war

    as I walk down the jungle path

    heading to nowhere

    thinking these dark thoughts

    talking to my ghostly companions

    Saigon 1995

    In 1995

    I was one of the first American tourists

    Allowed into Vietnam

    To freely wander about

    Tourism was at its infancy

    And Saigon was chaotic

    Wild and crazy

    Traffic was insane

    There were few tourism sites

    Few hotels

    Few guest houses

    And not too many restaurants

    The food was good

    We saw the war memorial

    The reunification palace

    And the big market

    But we felt we were being monitored

    Beggars were everywhere

     

    There were scams everywhere

    And it was not that pleasant an experience

    But Saigon grew up

    Became a much more tourist-friendly place

    And these problems we encountered

     

    A thing of the place

    Saigon is so much better

    So much more developed

    That it has captured our soul

    And we will be back

    saigon 201

    Saigon 2019

    Vibrant, vivid, exciting
    A city on the move

     

    Becoming a world-class city

    Yet still with a Saigon swagger

    Wandering the streets

    Dodging the traffic

    Admiring the women

    Enjoying the food

    Saigon enters my heart

    And I know that I will be back

    This city is growing on me

    Reminds me of Korea

    One hopes that as it develops

    It will not become a carbon copy

    Of other big Asian cities

    Obliterating its past

    In search of a false modern image

    I hope it can retain

    What makes Saigon Saigon

    And not become another Gangnam

    Hope it does it with Saigon style

    And the people will evolve

    The country will emerge

    And become what it should be

    The Paris of the East

    This is my vision

    as I wander about

    enjoying Saigon in 2019

    ghost of Chu Chi

    Crawling down the tunnels

    Of Chu Chi

    I could almost imagine

    The Viet Kong guerillas

    Hiding deep under the tunnels

    As the land above is turned

    Into a temporary dessert

    With the vegetation burned off

    By napalm and agent orange

    The Viet Kong creep out at night

    Stealing onto the bases

    Stealing weapons, food, supplies

    And occasionally killing soldiers

    In their sleep

    The US soldiers

    Stay on base at night

    Terrified of the mosquitos

    And of the Viet Kong

    the ghosts

    Surround me

    Telling me their stories

    And at last I fled

    Through the emergency escape tunnel

    Declaring victory

    Profoundly shaken up

    By the ghosts of the Chu Chi tunnels

    Old Lady in the Neighborhood

    There is an old Vietnamese lady

    In the neighborhood

    Obviously senile

    But everyone knows her

    And watches over her

    To make sure

    She stays out of traffic

    And out of trouble

    She talks to everyone

    But no one seems to understand

    What she is babbling

    on about

    They smile at her

    And she smiles back

    And she for some reason

    She likes us

    And like my

    Vietnamese Coffee lady

    I wonder why

    Why was there

    this connection

    Between us

    It dawned on me

    Perhaps in a prior life

    She knew an American or two

    And I remind her of someone

    Or perhaps she is found

    Of Korean K drama

    And Angela reminds her

    Of her favorite K Drama star

    Or perhaps it is both

    Or another reason entirely

    But in any event

    I look forward

    To seeing her smiling face

    Every time I walk

    Down my ally way

    in Old Saigon

    Coffee Lady in Saigon

    Every morning

    I have gone out for Vietnamese coffee

    At a sidewalk café

    Down the ally from our AIRBNB

    The owner is a pleasant middle age woman

    Who for some reason likes us

    She smiles at us

    Greets us in Vietnamese

    She does  not understand English

    Or Korean

    And I wonder why

    Why was there

    this connection

    Between us

    It dawned on me

    Perhaps in a prior life

    She knew an American or two

    And I remind her of someone

    Or perhaps she is found

    Of Korean K drama

    And Angela reminds her

    Of her favorite K Drama star

    Or perhaps it is both

    Or another reason entirely

    But I moved today

    And will miss her

    Might go back for a final cup

    Of coffee

    To say good bye

    To my Vietnamese coffee lady

    Mastering the Saigon Shuffle

     

    Motorbike riders waiting at intersection. Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

    When I first visited Saigon

    Learning the Saigon Shuffle

    Was difficult

    And now 24 years later

    It all seems to be coming back

    There is an art to crossing the street

    Dodging the motor cyclists, the taxis, the private cars

    The bikes and other pedestrians and the buses

    The art consists of letting the big guys go first

    Then walk between the motorcycles and cyclists

    Trusting that they will get out of your way

    And they being masters of the Saigon shuffle

    Always find a way

    In my two visits I was struck

    By how it all flows together

    Without a central authority

    And with almost no planning

    Lights or cops

    Somehow it just is

    And somehow it works

    And it is still a mystery to me

    24 years after first

    Encountering the Saigon shuffle

    old Ghosts in Saigon

    Old ghosts wandering the streets of old Saigon

    Lost spirits of the dead

    Died during the endless wars

    Ghostly apparitions around every corner

    Here was Kilroy

    and his gang of soldiers

    Over there were the Viet Cong

    Waiting to kill them

    Saigon is filled with memories like that

    Terrible times were had here in Old Saigon

    Silently the ghosts parade the city streets

    As the tourists drink in the bars

    Seeing Ghosts

    Seeing Ghosts

    I walk around the streets

    Of old Saigon

    Seeing sensing the undead

    The ghosts of the war

    That haunted life

    So many years ago

    So many people died

    For a war

    That never should have been fought

    For reasons that are still not clear

    A great tragedy unfolded

    In a land half away

    Around the world

    The ghosts smile at me

    And then they disappear

    Leaving me in the present

    Life goes on

    satanic torture

    I find myself

    In a dark room
    Strapped to a bed

    The light turns on

    The large TV comes on

    A smiling image

    Of Satan fills the TV
    He is dressed

    In a conservative business suit

    Looks like he came

    Out of a corporate

    board meeting
    surrounded by demonic aides

    who constantly shove papers

    at him

    He looks up from his lap top

    And smiles
    A deadly so insincere smile

    His voice booms out

    Welcome to Hell

    My satanic slaves

    I am Satan
    Your new master

    Each of you

    Has been sentenced

    To an eternity of torture

    And the punishment
    Must fit the crime

    So, for you

    Mr. Jake Cosmos Aller

    Failed aspiring poet

    And novelist
    Your torture

    Is to be strapped

    To that bed

    Unable to move

    As you are filled

     

    With the need

    To piss and

    But you cannot move

    And your skin

    Is crawling with bugs
    And itchy

    as Hell so to speak

    and you are so sleepy

    but you cannot sleep

    the TV will play

     

    endless repeats

    Of some of the worst TV

    and movie shows

    ever produced

    Starting with my favorite

    A Series of Unfortunate Events

    Featuring your favor annoying little girl

    Carmetta! Singing for you forever

    As you are the ultimate cake sniffer

    Welcome to Hell

    worlds within worlds lost in inner space

     

    A man woke up one day

    Lost in inner space

    Went so far down

    The proverbial rabbit hole

    That he did not know

    Where he was

    Nor what time it was

    Nor when it was

    As he stared out

    At a bewildering world

    A world lost in inner space

    Deep down in his dreams

    Filled with nightmarishly real

    Monsters, demons and ghostly apparitions

    He saw them and began running

    Running running running

    With the hell hounds behind him

    Leading him to the edge

    of the pits of hell itself

    abandon all hope

    ye who enter here

    the sign read

    above the entrance to the pit

    and there was a devil standing there

    armed with a clipboard

    and a computer spreadsheet
    Satan was the ultimate bureaucrat

    Name barked the devil

    Date of Birth ?

    Date of Death?

    Don’t know? That won’t do at all
    Hmm

    Car accident due to drunk driving

    And you killed a child

    Bad on you

    But here in hell
    The punishment fits the crime

    And the devil laughed

    Joined in by the hell hounds

    And other nightmare creatures

    A bell ran out

    In the purple crystalline sky

    And slowly the worlds receded

    And he found himself alive

    In his room

    And vowed

    That today

    Was the day

    He would quit drinking

    Quit taking drugs

    And quit chasing strange woman

     

    And having wild libertine sex

    He picked up the phone

    It was Satan’s aid

    Be careful what you vow

    We are listening

    If you fulfill your vows

    You might find yourself

    Escaping life in Hell

    It is up to you to choose

    And the man got dressed

     

    Went to work

    Thinking deep thoughts

    And drove off a cliff

    And back down the endless

    Worlds within worlds

    endless movie

     

    Watching the TV coverage

    Of the great government shut down

    Of 2018-2019

    I am reminded of a movie

    As I fall asleep

    Listening to the TVBlather on and on

    About what it all means

    Mr. Natural pops u

    And screams

    “It don’t mean s….

     

    “Dude, the endless movie

    Is about to begin”!

    A middle-aged white man

    Down on his proverbial luck

    Just been fired
    Replaced by a foreign worker

    Or a robot

    Or just fired

    Because he was no longer

    Deemed useful
    To the masters of the universe

    If he was lucky

    He’d  be given a watch

    And an IOU worthless pension

    And the man wanders into a restaurant

    Pulls out a gun

    Eats his breakfast

    After the official breakfast hour

    Puts on a Pepe the green frog mask

    Drops acid, Snorts speed

    Drinks a shot of booze

    And coffee smokes a joint

    Snorts cocaine for good measure

    and smokes a cigarette

    And walks outside

    steals a bus at gun point

    Filled with passengers

    He tells them

    They are hostages

    And he puts on his vest

    With the dead man switch

    Next to the bomb

    He announces

    Via tweet

    He is going to take the bus

    To the proverbial pot of gold

    Hidden deep in a cave

    And when he got there

    He would release the hostages

    And disappear into the mine

    And never be found again

    And as the bus careens around the mountain

    At 100 miles an hour

    The dude sprouts out

    Conspiracy after conspiracy theory

    About Obama the Muslim communist

    secret gay working with George Soros

    the Jewish money people

    in league with the shapeshifting lizards

    and Mueller is one of them

    they are all after him

    because he knows the deal

    And the passengers are transfixed

    Half hoping, he would make it

    Half hoping, he would be blown away

    And as the bus careens out of control

    With the wheels falling off

    And the cliff looming ahead

    You realize we are all doomed

    morphing images

    I am in a room

    Drinking at a party

    And smoking weed

    Watching people all around me

    Change into hideous creatures

    Monsters from the deepest depths of hell

    Everyone in the room

    Has been transformed except me

    The Chief of them all

    Wears a Trumpian mask

    Complete with orange hair

    Half human half pig

    His deputy

    Wears the face of Putin

    But his body

    Half human, half horse: if

    The other creatures wear masks

    Many of them wear

    Green Pepe the alt-right

    Symbolic frog masks

    And have T-shirts

    Bearing alt right slogans

    And Nazi symbols

    And as they prance about

    They chant alt. Right slogans

    And neo-Nazi chants

    Jews will not Replace us

    And the rest of these creatures

    Are hideous ugly beasts

    With only a vestige of humanity left

    And these monsters are engaged

    In all sorts of foul evil deeds

    Murder violence death

    All around

    And non-stop

    violent drug-fueled orgies

    As these creatures

    Half human half monsters

    Half male, half female creatures

    Snort coke, cocaine, speed

    Smoke weed and drink vodka shots

    Scotch, bourbon and beer

    The Trumpian Pig leads the charge

    Starts engaging in sodomy with Putin

    Who chases after people

    Cutting off their heads with his sword

    They turn on to their fellow creatures

    Raping and killing each other

    and eating their fellow creatures

    All night long

    Then they attack me

    Screaming

    Jews will not replace us

    And I wake up

    Screaming

    As the sun comes up

    Just another nightmare

    One Night I Dreamt of You

    One night I dreamt of you

    For seven years I dreamt of you

    Until you walked into my life

    One Night in Lithia Springs

    One night in Lithia Springs

    We soaked away our painful life

    And again fell in Love

    You Are My Everything

    You are my everything

    All my hopes and dreams

    Haunting my nights

    I Can Not Get Rid

    I cannot get rid

    This angel haunting my soul

    Seeing your face in the sky

    saying goodbye

    Saying goodbye now

    Is the hardest thing to do

    But I must do it

    You are my Angel

    You are my Angel

    Sent from God up in heaven

    To conquer my life

    One Moment, One Day

    One moment, one day

    You walked out of my nightmares

    And swept into life

    Waking Up to No You

    Waking up to no you

    Absent in my bed at night

    Absent from my dreams

    Thursday Evening

    Thursday early evening

    Thinking dark thoughts only you

    Can you cure these thoughts?

    howling at the moon

    As I sit

    Under the lunatic light of the full moon

    Of the blood-red lights of the moon

    Full of wild passions

    The lustful beast stirs again

    And starts running and running

    Howling at the moon

    Riding into the new dawn

    On a demented Harley Davis cycle

    With two naked babes on his back

    Riding into the sun

    90 miles per second

    At the speed of thought

    He disappears into the lunatic light

    Of the full moon

    And I wake up

    Alone in my bed

    Saying, man, that was quite a night

    I better not go there again

    The wild beast

    Laughs

    He has heard that before

    And I join

    The beast

    In howling at the Moon

    just an unhinged lunatic howling at the moon

    On a moonlit late night

    I sat in a bar

    Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew

    Just an unhinged lunatic

    Dreaming of howling at the full moon

    Watching the world walk by

    Looking at all the fine looking babes

    Walking by the street

    Thinking wild, erotic thoughts

    Of endless wild libertine passions

    When into the bar

    Walked the most beautiful women

    In the Universe

    So wild, so free

    So wonderfully alive

    I did not know what to do

    As this vision of delight

    Sauntered through the bar

    In a skin-tight leather pants

    Looked so fine

    That my eyeballs hurt

    And finally, I had to say something

    So, I gathered up my manly courage

    And walked up to her

    And she looked at me

    And instantly bewitched my soul

    With a devilish grin

    I lost all reason

    And became a raving lunatic

    Unhinged lunatic

    Howling at the moon

    Foaming at the mouth

    A wild, free werewolf

    Howling at the lunatic light

    Of the full Moon

    Note: in honor of the blood moon posted on my blog the world according to cosmos

    the story of how we met

    It all began in Berkeley, California

    In the springtime of 1974

    One fateful afternoon

    I was sleeping in my high school Physics class.

    I looked up and saw a tall,

    beautiful Asian woman

    standing there looking at me.

    She was the most beautiful women

    in the universe to me

    I screamed out, who are you?

    She disappeared

    as if she was beamed

    away from my dream.

    I knew that someday

    I would meet the girl

    In the dream

    Little did I know

    I would have to wait until 1982

    Starting that month

    I began having the same dream

    Month and month and month.

    Always the same.

    She was saying something

    in a strange language.

    Then one day

    I had the dream

    and knew that

    she was in Korea.

    So, I chose to go

    to Korea

    In the Peace Corps,

    Somehow knowing

    That I would meet her there.

    One day

    A year after the Peace Corps ended

    A month before I planned

    to leave to return

    to the U.S. for graduate school

    That morning early in the morning

    I had the last of these dreams.

    This time I understood her.

    She said, “Don’t worry.

    We’ll meet soon.”

    That evening

    As I was getting off the bus

    To go to my class

    I saw getting off the bus

    The girl in my dream.

    It was she!

    I was speechless.

    I did not know what to do.

    Over the course of the evening

    I ran into her several times.

    Finally, I was introduced to her.

    I muttered some lame excuse

    About wanting to find a Korean tutor

    and got her number.

    The next day she came to the gate

    Of my base where I was teaching

    ESL to Koreans

    She said that she

    had to speak with me.

    I told to wait in the library

    for about an hour,

    and I would cancel class

    and meet her then.

    We went out for coffee.

    She told me that she was madly

    in love with me

    And simply had to have me.

    I told her I felt the same way.

    I proposed five days later,

    And got married one month later.

    Does she believe this story?

    She claims she does not believe it

    Because it is impossible to be true.

    But I know that there

    are other worlds and other times.

    In a past life

    we must have been together somehow.

    And our love was so strong

    That it crossed over the barrier

    of time and space

    She found me in 1974,

    But it took until 1982

    For us to actually meet.

    And it has been 36 years

    Since we met in the physical sphere

    Or 45 years since the dream began

    And I still recall the dream

    And meeting her

    I had no choice

    When I met her

    We were fated to be together

    true story.

    October Rain

    The falling rain

    Of late October

    Fills me with essential dread

    As I rush about

    And end up here

    Wherever here is

    The rain outside

    Seems like the tears of god

    As I sit

    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love

    And failed dreams

    Wondering

    What went wrong?

    And what I can set right

    And the rain falls

    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling

    All over this man’s world

    And the rain falls

    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink

    Lost in dreams

    Dreaming of what

    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts

    And so, I sit

    And dream the night away

    fake things

     

    fake things_origfake things_orig
    fake things_orig

    We live in a world

    Of fake things

    Fake Products

    Fake News

    Fake Calls

    Fake Politics

    Fake Sports

    Fake Business

    Fake Leaders

    Fake People

    Fake friends

    Fake sincerity

    Surrounded 24/7

    By all the fake things

    How can anything real exist?

    Is it all nothing but fake things

    Designed to deceive us all?

    will be published in Foliate Oak Review

    Morphing Images from Hellish Nightmare

     

    I am in a room

    Watching people all around me

    Change into hideous creatures

    Monsters from the deepest depths of hell

    The Chief of them all

    Wears a Trumpian mask

    Completed with orange hair

    Half human half pig

    His deputy

    Wears the face of Putin

    But his body

    Half human, half horse

    The other creatures wear masks

    Many of them wear

    Green Pepe the alt right

    Symbolic frog masks

    And have T shirts

    Bearing alt right slogans

    And Nazi symbols

    And as they prance about

    They chant alt. Right slogans

    And neo Nazi chants

    Jews with Not Replace us

    And the rest of these creatures

    Are hideous ugly beasts

    With only a vestige of humanity left

    And these monsters are engaged

    In all sorts of foul evil deeds

    Murder violence death

    All around

    And none-stop

    violent drug fueled orgies

    As these creatures

    Half human half monsters

    Half male, half female creatures

    Snort coke, cocaine, speed

    Smoke weed and drink vodka shots

    Scotch, bourbon and beer

    The Trumpian Pig leads the charge

    Starts engaging in sodomy with Putin

    Who chases after people

    Cutting off their heads with his sword

    They turn on to their fellow creatures

    Raping and ing each other

    All night long

    Then they attack me

    Screaming

    Jews will not replace us

    And I wake up

    Screaming

    As the sun comes up

    Just another nightmare

    Note: from a recent nightmare

    early morning thoughts

    Early in the midst of a chaotic frenzy

    I caught the fragrance of her sweat grin

    And my heart did a swirling spin

    When I saw that vision of erotic delight

    There I stood

    Alone in a somehow too dismal room

    Full of vibrant people

    I knew not what to say

    So, I spent that dismal day

    Thinking dismal morbid thoughts of lugubrious doom

    Thoughts what might happen that day

    And what might have been if I had the courage to say Hello

    Thus, it went

    Years after ever melancholy year

    Days after ever gloomy days

    Nights of self-induced torture

    Months of nightly rancid beer

    There it went

    Now

    I am sitting and thinking

    Thoughts so gloomy

    I still don’t know

    Life belongs to the living

    Not to the morbid mystic dreamers

    Nor the poets dying

    depressed morbid nights

    One of these depressed, depraved, morbid nights

    I shall awake to the God damned game of life

    And sit under the graying light

    Of the foolish full moon

    And laminate upon my luminance

    And chew up the garments of past lives

    And cry my soul

    But no one will hear the plight of my mind

    On strike for better wages

    And more love

    Thus, I will sit, and think and dream

    Dreams that no one ever before dreamt

    It is so very lonely being a foolish lunatic

    But then as I drink to oblivion

    I begin to think

    Of all those things that I have not experienced

    And wonder with a vengeance

    Why God hates me so

    Or is it only an illusion?

    When will I awake

    Or do we just sit waiting for more beer

    To cover up

    The stench of putrid rotting flesh

    Waiting for death to take us away

    To the Cosmic garbage dump in the sky

    Trying to communicate across a gap

    That is light years’ long

    And will never close

    For man was not made to know

    The real thoughts of another

    Man was made to suffer, cry and wait

    For the party in Hell afterwards

    , let’s us die and be done with it

    Or live without our God damned dreams

    Running our thoughts

    Into pits of depraved madness

    Hell is Here to Stay

    The angel of the lord

    Appeared on TV sets

    All over the world

    src=”https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/god-picture-for-Hell-is-Here-.jpg&#8221; alt=”” width=”255″ height=”198″ class=”alignnone size-full wp-image-1229″ />

    People woke up

    Expecting to see

    The usual suspects

    Talking heads

    Talking drivel

    Talking trash

    Instead

    A stern visage

    A stern old man

    In a dark suit

    He had a salt and pepper beard

    And long, dark black hair

    And piercing blue eyes

    Staring out

    From his stern face

    The eyes

    Piercing the soul

    Of all who listened

    The voice

    Of the angel of the lord

    Was like thunder

    And all over the world

    People tried to turn off

    Their TV sets

    To no avail

    Twilight light Zone

    Prevailed

    The angel of the lord

    Stopped swearing

    And said

    In a calm

    Deadly voice

    People of earth

    You know the lord

    By a billion names

    I am his spokesman

    We’ve realized

    There is the age of the TV

    And we must be able to reach

    You directly

    Before one or a million

    Could understand

    Now no one hears us

    For you are convinced

    We are dead

    Irrelevant

    Washed up

    A fraud

    Frankly speaking

    You all can go to hell

    And an evil grin

    Appears on his face

    As he says

    Can a fraud do this?

    And outside

    Thunder and lightening

    A star comes down

    And houses were blown away

    And everyone was

    Outside

    The TV set

    Was in the sky above

    The voice of the angel

    Of the lord

    Proclaiming

    Repent

    The end is near

    And now

    No more TV

    No more booze

    The rights to you

    Have been sold

    For to quote Frank Zappa

    You are all assholes

    You are all assholes

    All of you

    Little, mean little assholes

    Let me introduce

    My new business partner

    satan

    Satan, also known

    As the prince of darkness

    God and Satan

    Have agreed on a deal

    A thousand year Reich

    A thousand year of slavery

    For you

    My little human assholes

    For your sins, your arrogance

    Your foolish pride

    After a thousand years

    Of pure torture

    We will return

    To judge the living and the dead

    Most of you will remain in hell

    Some will be redeemed

    And allowed into heaven

    And now, back to your usual station

    Welcome to hell

    Satan said

    And laughed and laughed and laughed

    And the usual crimes resume

    The usual lies and deceits and shames

    For most people

    It made no difference

    They had been in hell

    For centuries

    For some

    It mattered

    fake eggs

     

    Eggs

    I love real eggs

    From real chicken

    Preferably free range

    Vegetarian fed,

    No antibiotic feed

    No hormones added

    Non-caged chickens,

    allowed to roam about

    As God intended

    them to do

    Not locked up

    In chicken coop hell

    But now

    We have so many choices

    We can have fake eggs

    Without any cholesterol

    Or yoke

    Tastes like real chicken eggs

    At least they claim

    But who knows what’s real

    Any more

    Can you trust

    The chicken is real ?

    Fake bread

    Now a days

    Most of the time

    I eat fake bread

    GF bread

    For health reasons

    My wife can’t tolerate the real thing

    And so,

    I eat fake bread

    Fake pasta

    Fake pizza

    But every so often

    I want the real deal

    I crave bread

    Made with wheat

    And a real pizza

    And real pasta

    And real donuts

     

    Fake Booze

    I never real understood

    The concept of alcohol free booze

    Alcohol free beer

    Alcohol free wine

    I don’t get Mocktales

    And I don’t get fruit beer

    And coffee beer

    And other the other weirdo drinks

    That people drink these days

    I mean when you drink booze

    You want the alcohol

    You want the buzz

    You need the booze

    And you want it now

    And frankly fake booze

    Just does not do it for me

    So please no fake beer

    No mocktails

    No fake wine for me

    As the song puts it

    One scotch, one bourbon

    And one beer

    So, either give me the real deal

    Or give me a cup of tea

    Or coffee or water or juice

    Or whatever

    But don’t serve me fake booze

    fake fish

    fish market

    Every where in the world

    When you eat fish

    In a restaurant

    The restaurant owners

    Claim it is salmon or tuna

    Or other delicious fish

    But the sad reality

    60 percent of the time

    You are eating fake fish

    The fish may be fish

    Or may not be fish

    But if it is indeed fish

    It is probably tilapia

    Or some other cheap

    Bottom feeding scumbag fish

    Filled with toxins

    And possibly tape worms

    And other parasites

    And as you eat your delicious fish

    You are eating the fake fish

    And helping the fish industry

    Continue this con game

    But there is nothing you can do

    Except for catching your own fish

    And preparing it yourself

    So, when you eat fish

    Pretend if you must

    That you eating salmon or tuna

    While you eat your tilapia

    And pay the salmon/tuna premium price

    fake vegan meat

    When I go to a vegetarian restaurant

    I often encounter fake meat

    Often called mock meat

    Made out of soy beans, and other things

    And I wonder

    Why bother with the façade

    I mean if you are a vegan

    Be a vegan

    Don’t eat or make fake meat

    You don’t need it

    You really don’t like it

    And it is somehow

    just wrong to me

    So please no more fake meat

    No more tofu turkey for me

    Either give me my meat

    Or give me my vegan delight

     

    Fake coffee

    I used to be a big coffee drinker

    Had to have my four or five cups

    Of real fresh brewed coffee

    Not for me the weak instant coffee

    Of decafe coffee or herbal fake coffee

    But over time coffee caught up to me

    And now I can not handle the real deal

    And I am forced to drink decafe coffee

    Which is a kind of fake coffee to me

    Or herbal coffee

    Which is entirely fake

    Designed to taste like the real thing

    But without that caffeine kick

    That true coffee drinkers crave

    Since we are all caffeine addicts at heart

    Just need that rush to get going

    And keep going

    And the fake coffee

    Just does not do the trick

    And so, I am doomed

    To drink decafe coffee

    And fake coffee

    Missing my real cup of coffee

    Until the I enjoy the last drop

    Fake Food

    fast food

    in this world of fake things

    Nothing is more fake

    Than the food we eat

    Most of the fake food crap we eat

    Is nothing but chemicals

    And flavorings

    Added to a small amount

    Of real food

    All packaged and sold

    And marketed

    Scientifically designed to taste good

    So we eat the poisoned food

    And get sicker and sicker

    While the food industry giants

    Make obscene profits

    Selling us poison

    fake smiles

    photo of fake people laughing
    fake people laughing

    The old soul classic

    Smiling faces got it right

    “Smiling faces sometimes

    Pretend to be your friend

    Smiling faces show no traces

    Of the evil that lurks within (can you dig it?)

    Smiling faces, smiling faces, sometimes

    They don’t tell the truth

    Smiling faces, smiling faces tell lies and I got proof

    Oh, oh, yeah

    Let me tell you

    The truth is in the eyes ’cause the eyes don’t lie, amen

    Remember, a smile is just a frown turned upside down my friend

    So, hear me when I’m saying

    Smiling faces, smiling faces, sometimes, yeah

    They don’t tell the truth

    Smiling faces, smiling faces tell lies and I got proof

    (Beware) beware of the handshake

    That hides the snake (can you dig it, can you dig it?)

    I’m a-tellin’ you beware of the pat on the back

    It just might hold you back

    Jealousy, (jealousy) misery (misery) envy (envy)

    I…”

    Boy did the singer get it right

    In this world of fake things

    Where the market rules us all

    The art of the fake smile

    Has been perfected

    They say that many people

    Have mastered the art of the fake smile

    Where you smile

    and pretend to like someone

    your victim

    does not suspect

    that the smile

    is because you are thinking

    of stabbing them in the back

    oh yes in a world of fake people

    beware, beware of smiling faces

    fake friends

    In this world of fake things

    Where nothing is real

    Nothing is authentic

    And the market rules us all

    There is no room

    For real friendship

    We are all using each other

    To get ahead

    So we pretend to be friends

    All the time

    Plotting against our so called friends

    To get ahead

    The market rewards the most vicious

    Sociopathic values rule the market

    Friendship is for wimps

    And losers

    Those winners end up

    Alone all alone

    For they have no real friends

    But boy do they have real enemies

    For in this fake world of ours

    Perhaps hate is the one real emotion

    That has survived

    fake relationships

    In this modern world

    Where everything seems fake

    There are few genuine relationships left

    Most relationships are market driven

    How can this person help me

    In my career or in life

    What can I get from them

    How can I use them for my advantage

    And what do they want in return

    And we are all nothing but personal brands

    Competing all the time for the next gig job

    And  romance

    Has been reduced  to sexual lust

    And nothing more

    And few people want babies

    Any more

    Babies are expensive

    And limit your ability

    To compete for your next bed partner

    And being real, telling people what we really think

    Is usually a CLM – career limiting move so to speak

    So, everyone hides their true feelings

    And are resigned to living this fake life

    In a world filled with fake people

    I wonder if there are any real people left

    fake Jake

    Many years ago

    I proclaimed to the world

    I was Jake

    And I was not a fake

    But I was the real deal

    But over the years

    I too have become fake

    And yes Jake

    Is also nothing but a fake

    Fake  Souls

    In this hyper materialist era

    We find ourselves in

    Is there such a thing as a true soul?

    Or have we all become

    Nothing but fake souls

    The rights to our souls

    Long ago sold

    To the evil masters of the universe

    The secret programmers

    Of this cosmic video game

    We all live in

    And our dear leader

    Donald Trump

    Has a fake soul

    As he acts like he is robot

    Trying to fake real human emotions

    And usually failing miserably

    Fake Calls

    Every day I get woken up

    As the sun comes up

    By my phone ringing

    With a fake call

    It seems that the only people

    Who ever bother to call me

    Are the fake call people

    Who all call me

    With fake sincerity

    Offering me a great deal

    On this and that scam

    I curse at them

    Yell at them

    Mutter obscenities in foreign tongues

    And block their calls

    Yet it does not seem to matter

    The next call will be

    Yet another fake call

    Am I doomed to receive

    Fake calls until I day I die

    I turn on my computer

    And read my fake news accounts

    And watch TV for the latest fake news

    And the politicians lying

    And the criminals scheming

    To take my money

    The Zappa song comes to mind

    You will obey me while I lead you

    And eat the garbage that I feed you

    Until the day that we don’t need you

    Don’t go for help . . . no one will heed you

    Your mind is totally controlled

    It has been stuffed into my mold

    And you will do as you are told

    Until the rights to you are sold

    That’s right, folks . . .

    Don’t touch that dial

    And I scream to the universe Just leave me alone

    Then the phone rings…..

    Walls Divide Us

    Walls

    Trump wants a wall

    Between America and Mexico

    A wall against the southern hordes

    A wall based on fear and hate

    A wall to make America safe

    A wall to make America great again

    And yet I wonder

    Will his wall fall

    Like the Berlin wall

    And the great wall

    And all the other walls

    They all failed

    All of them

    Walls divide us

    Walls make us

    Into different tribes

    Between the pure

    And the impure

    St Reagan

    Said Tear Down this Wall

    Will future Presidents

    Tear down this begotten wall

    Or will it become a tourist attraction

    Another great wall

    Against barbarian hordes

    sandwich choices

     

    Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

    Choices

    There are so many choices to be had

    When ordering a sandwich

    What kind of bread

    What kind of meat or any meat

    What kind of cheese or any cheese

    Whether to have sprouts or not

    Whether to have a pickle or not

    Whether to go with a classic peanut butter

    And something sandwich

    I loved peanut butter sandwiches

    As a kid

    Peanut butter and sweat pickles were my favorite

    Peanut butter and banana is good also

    Peanut butter and strawberry jam

    What a delightful memory

    My current favorite

    Is a BLT with sprouts, avocado, and kosher dill pickles?

    Heirloom red tomatoes one slice per each half

    Avocado one half per each half

    One half pickle on each half

    Bacon cooked just right – well done but not black

    Sprouts and lettuce just right

    Timamook Yellow smoked cheder cheese

    On each half

    On Gluten Free bread

    with chipotle mayo

    And Dijon mustard

    Cut in half

    Truly a sandwich made in heaven

    And bacon makes everything

    Taste so damn nice

    And God if you are reading this poem

    You had better prepare them for me

    Or Heaven will not be worth it

    Does Satan serve BLT sandwiches

    I wonder

    Probably not

    Probably you become the bacon

    In his hell sandwiches

    published in Duane’s Poetree

    looking out my window

    Looking Out My Window

    In Incheon

    What did I see

    The neighboring apartment buildings

    Obscured by the April rains

    And yellow dust of early Spring

    And in the distant the mountains

    Aflame with spring colors

    Beckoning me outdoors

    Looking out my window

    In Oregon

    What did I see

    Green trees

    Silently watching me

    And the cats gamboling along

    Looking at me

    While I look at them

    Each wondering what sort of weird creatures

    The other is

    And who is the real alien species?

    In Washington DC

    Looking out my window

    What did I see

    I saw the squirrels in the trees

    And the peaceful trees

    Of Capitol Hill

    Near the seat of power

    Yet somehow

    I felt It all far away

    In Suburban Virginia

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    I often looked out my window

    At the trees and the jungle

    In my back yard

    And heard the distant roar

    Of traffic on the busy suburban street

    As people rushed to get to the freeway

    In the early morning hours

    In Madrid Spain

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    I looked out at our Spanish neighborhood

    Seeing the beautiful Madrid ladies

    Walking down the street

    Secretly admiring them from afar

    In Barbados

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    The monkeys in the trees

    Looking at me

    Contemplating raiding my garden

    As soon as I went away

    In Seoul

    Looking out my window

    What did I see

    The neighborhood

    Alive outside my window

    For so many years

    In Seattle

    Looking out my window

    What did I see

    I saw the ever changing green

    Sea of trees

    that is Seattle’s true color

    The city is so lush and green

    And alive with life’s endless possibilities

    In Stockton

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    The traffic moving

    Through the dense fog

    That often fell upon the city

    Obscuring everything in its embrace

    And growing up in Berkeley

    Looking out my window

    I saw nothing

    +But the dirt and trees

    And shrubs

    Of my ancestral home

    And felt nothing

    But loneliness

    And a desire

    To leave my home

    As soon as I grew up

    That is what I see

    When I look out my window

    Even to this day

    I see where I have been

    And wonder where I am going

    As I stare out the window

    Knowing that my life

    Will surely come to an end

    As I stare out at the world

    Waiting waiting waiting

    For my fate to unfold

    Watching three cats

     

    Watching three cats

    gamboling along

    Looking at me

    While I look at them

    Each wondering what sort of weird creatures

    The other is

    And who is the real alien species?

    three cats ready to go

    three cats

    at play

    they look out at the world

    and they are ready

    they are born hunters

    they are hungry

    they are restless

    and they want

    to escape

    from the house

    to chase birds

    squirrels

    and other cats

    That’s the cat’s life after all

    they tolerate us humans

    only because we feed them

    But at heart

    they are wild things

    and wild things

    need to be free

    Looking Out My Window at the Cat

    I look out my window

    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat

    That lives underneath the apartment house

    And look out at the park

    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me

    Kindred spirits perhaps

    Retired waiting to die

    Watching Cats Hunt

    Early morning

    Watching two white cats

    Hunting a white dove

    The cats hunt in pairs

    Tracking the bird

    The bird flies away

    Safe for now

    And I think about the cats

    And the hunt goes on

    Such is life

    And the fate of cats

    And birds

     

    I Often Wonder About Cats

     

    wonder about cats download

    I often wonder about Cats

    What do they think of us

    It seems at time

    That cats think of humans

    As their slaves

    We exist to feed them

    To comfort them

    To save them from their enemies

    And to worship them

    Yes cats are an alien species

    Totally different from humanity

    Detached, and almost evil

    If we ever encounter an alien civilization

    God help us if it’s a cat based civilization

    We would then be engaged

    In the epic mother of all wars

    As cats and humans would not get along

    The cats would think we were their slaves

    And we would resent and fear them

    And secretly worship their alien ways

    Cat Fight in Incheon

     

    Watching two cats

    Fighting alongside the sidewalk

    In suburban Incheon New Airport Town

    Completely indifferent

    To the humans walking around them

    And the humans were indifferent to the cats

    As they stood there fighting

    And screeching at each other

    One orange one

    One half black half white one

    Both middle age in cat years

    As I sat there watching the cats

    really getting into it

    I wondered what they were arguing about?

    But since I don’t speak cat

    I really didn’t know

    All I know is they were really screeching at each other

    And almost look like they were about to attack each other

    But one cat backed down

    As the other cat stood their proverbial ground

    If they were humans one would have pulled out a knife

    Or a gun

    And someone would have been killed

    But being mere cats

    They stared at each other

    And walked away

    but they kept glancing at each other

    So I knew the fight as not over

    Merely postponed until a later hour

    Cats truly are the aliens

    Who live among us humans

    Or perhaps we are the aliens

    Who live among the cats?

    Cat thought

    Watching the black cat

    Who lives underneath the building

    Slinking about

    looking for something to kill

    I am reminded once again the cats

    are not our friends

    as I stare at him

    an alien invader

    From another planet

    hangover reflections

    Hang Over Reflections

     

     

    bottles of korean liquor soju
    soju

    Last night a Korean friend from Virginia came for a two week visit He brought with him a 30-year Bottle of Ballentine whiskey.  Of course, we must drink it and then we must drink some soju

    well this morning I woke up with a hangover

    And thought about the contributions to world culture that Koreans have made. The perfect Korean hangover cure

    And of course, this morning I am in the middle of taking the cure

    The cure  consists of

    Lots of coffee

    Liquid Korean hangover medicine from the local convenience store or drug store

    Hangjanggu soup

    A walk

    Spending some time In the sauna soaking and sweating it out

    Then Later following Mark Twain sage advice that the only known cure for hangover is to keep drinking. That is the Korean Hangover cure And it works

    I had my first hangover at 16 when I was an exchange student for two weeks at a Navaho boarding school. Went out and got rip roaring drunk with the Indians They gave me an Indian name  “Ski dish Digest “which means “Crazy friend” And I have now had Almost 45 years’ worth of experience dealing with hangovers a hangover is god’s punishment for drinkers

    Today I wrote down the following  hangover poem which I will share, and I would love to hear your Hangover stories please post them below and I will share them

    Hangover reflections

    Hangover Gods Punishment For drinker

    A hangover is god’s punishment for drinkers

    Nothing more than that God’s way of punishing the drinker

    God’s punishment is severe for the sin of overdrinking

    Of course, the only known cure for a hangover is to keep drinking

    Very much need of a cure today

    Every day one has too much to drink

    resolve to quit drinking fill one’s head

    microsoft found poems

    Telco one

    not until 5:00 PM

    had objected

    lack of will

    come back

    and go to some of actor dinner

    will fix the car tomorrow

    and work on my appeal

    might work

    and the appeal

    denied me

    to get on the other headphones

    when we go to the own charm

    on Thursday

    will build

    and Costco tomorrow

    dictation is working

    but still funky

    but it will when it finally works

    watch and at the showboat

    Mr. Sunshine

    before taking all along

    that low energy

    back to two long flight

    stop dictation

    of up to the line

    microsoft dictation found poem four

    Green tree

    is in the Kingstown Property

    in Alexandria

    with her mother

    and are tended to Jeff

    my mother in the wall

    is berating jobs for some reason

    to handle

    and tell my mother to calm down

    as Jeff has a temper problem

    job is getting very angry

    Juppe pulls out a gun

    and serves the shooting of my mother

    the mall and should serve five or six times

    in the head

    my wife forays into a closet

    and Hans hoping that jobs

    will not find her

    and she wonders

    what would happen know

    that her mother

    in all my mother’s death

    and the she wonders

    what will happen

    because im not there

    at the time

    and she fears Jeff

    shooting in the wall

    and that is the end

    of the current in that age

    microsoft dictation poem three

    Inspection report

    meeting went well

    met with him

    only at age six

    G P silver in the damage

    is shown her

    the news from the rear

    and as well as shown

    for the termite damage.

    In the termite

    go we had been a UGS

    the basic questions of morality

    and using this statement

    denying them the answer

    most questions

    afterwards

    we went outside

    to take a picture

    although the front porch

    into I noticed

    there was something

    very strange looking

    at the front porch

    the pedestal

    on the front porch

    were quoted

    so he headed

    from facing the street

    and in from the street

    station house

    the fed is still on

    riding his meaning

    to the eye

    and that has left his leading

    to the left

    we noticed

    there were cracks

    in the forge:

    long the foliage

    including the crack

    on in the front door

    we also know

    is that the doors

    are at opening

    in the awkward men

    we also noticed

    a big crowd

    on the right side of the house

    on in the mist

    airways to the right baseline

    we took a look

    at the the souls in 141571413 1415

    that this is an old event in 1413

    left as to his meeting

    in Ford’s 111415

    in the right one

    is even for now

    we suspect that uses serious settlement issue

    in that the house is cracking

    on the house

    in the house

    is trying to balance

    its closing the porch

    this is just

    what left

    in the says

    this is a serious issue

    we are sending information

    to a lawyer

    asked his advice

    before we can’t turn our

    insurance for content and

    Rescinded the new

    we will go to the court

    has to figure out the procedures

    for the deal

    against the key man

    this evening

    I hope to do some writing

    style dictation

    microsoft found poetry poem two

    The painting went very well

    it looks much better

    it was a very hot day

    will vote by

    Microsoft trials dictation from:

    and submitted it to two journals

    and micro soft

    don’t expect a response from mike

    were shocked but had fun writing it

    will keep track of market conditions

    for a second from over tonight

    we’ll work on my problem

    for the interview

    and take a walk to trader joe’s

    two are home to worry:

    Aaron will start working on

    OK at the base of king too

    fast and the bees

    nonsense continue nonsense

    Iraqis problem number one

    priority right now but

    Things to do

    123

    OK now I get your attention

    I wanna go too sole

    and Endgo

    some and then being term

    and then USA

    and then Washington, DC

    and then Baltimore

    and then I wanna

    will be with the idea being done

    on the stand

    will be OK enough tomorrow

    I need to go to the house and 88 AM 988

    just 8:00 AM.

    The I am having a meeting with an array

    annually and aHer

    a OK on we’re going to talk

    to a jester of two

    come up with solutions

    we need to two fans

    and players

    repaid the painting repairs

    we are paying the bill

    from both the house we’ve passed,

    my treatment

    we had the somewhat tainted drywall fixed

    we have a new tenant

    rules being new tenant

    is a very good

    10

    I think

    are we were making

    very much you need to do better

    to stop of studies

    now me as Sarah

    Mr. Allen not an island

    is an error

    that have a need

    for an offense of offering Maisie’s

    backing separate

    from the public

    often salad

    End of the night

    of the committee

    of the ways

    to hire the answer you

    get a better

    microsoft dictation poem part two

    microsoft dictation poem part two

    When to the house

    and your lunch

    had a good lunch

    when the two D. Meyer

    we are only eight at the red cross

    to the I had a BLT

    center with each 10 home

    to ensure came home

    at 230 and we walked

    back to the house

    did was a very hot air

    to move the best way

    to beat the fencing guy

    Go to End

    can show them the fencing edition

    about $4000 or so

    came home to a

    Her and then run back home

    Had celebrated for dinner

    and wash two episodes of a series of unfortunate events

    than started reading The two men

    To the house

    and the DM 2 me

    the pay

    for its then

    Go to End

    go to the paint shop

    to buy more pain

    noses were very first

    Go to End

    had too old

    to be in this meet pizza.

    Go to End

    Went out at 8 am

    to the house to meet

    had too old to be in this meet pizza

    have peace of for dinner

    go to Sly and the Family Stone Yes No?

    Play Summer Time in the City Yes

    the painters

    then walked to the Paint Shop

    the in the top of the state intends

    the the the the the the the

    Pizza

    Dinner salad

    Say number okay   4444

    6666

    2222

    End Document

    Save Changes Journal Yes No

    Can’t complete last command

    Undo command

    Can’t save

    Came back from the upper

    the painting works great

    progress

    is how so

    in a very hot as hell

    bent tonight

    will go to trade for Jones

    for home to home

    Number of records by second baseman from voting

    and an batteries for remote control

    shown

    or just for a number of town hall

    microsoft found poem one

    This is the first of five found poems based on Microsoft dictation trials.  I took the verbatim text filled with gibberish and put into poetic stanzas otherwise no editing.

    Her and they moved to

    a the final inspection went well

    with E wall

    back to the apartment

    and brown

    we had left the keys

    are in the car

    but fortunately

    we ran two

    are rules that TV does not

    ruin were bought

    baby by Jews

    they’ll be able to see you

    and your evening

    we win

    two Home Depot and Costco

    and then who can free pizza

    for dinner we want to eastern market

    and shot the movie

    dress report to the berber

    back home

    and went to bed

    about the nine

    the dictation is working up

    from 50% of the time

    cue-card will keep

    the hope that the difference

    in win over to

    in the meantime

    I will keep brokerage

    and user to ride

    bay from all working

    you in this

    is Trevor Rowe junior middle school?

    Microsoft did tuition

    continues two 50%

    of the time

    one the visual dictation data

    his sometimes schuler’s

    shall I am sure

    even when you shoot a film,

    today we’ll meet with Perot’s

    to turn over the key

    and then paid the porch

    and weather permits

    and then maybe have dinner

    with more drivers

    wore see the movie

    Mama Mia

    should be a good

    if I have time

    High-level

    also do some solutions all

    Still having problems with my group

    saw fit to Asia

    still very strange

    each results

    it’s well as run

    the south: today in that age

    bus ride across America

     

    Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com

    the Bus – Travels Through America’s Underbelly

    I am a bus rider

    That makes me unusual

    For a white male

    From an upper middle class family

    Our people are not bus riders

    Though some are subway riders

    Bus riders are other people

    The poor, minorities, immigrants

    People who don’t drive

    Because they are blind

    Or have a DUI

    And in my case

    I don’t drive

    Because I have bad vision

    And bad coordination

    Just never got the hang

    Of the whole driving thing

    Fortunately for me

    My wife does the driving

    But I still take the bus

    From time to time

    I rode the AC buses in Berkeley

    As a child

    Line 67, line 51, line 43 F bus

    Rode them long before BART came along

    And afterwards as well

    As an adult seldom rode the bus

    But when I did so

    I was always impressed

    By the sheer diversity

    Of the bus riding property

    Hundreds of languages

    All sorts of sexual orientation

    Some were white

    Most were not

    Most of my fellow passengers

    Were nice enough

    Some were friendly

    And some were lost

    In their own thoughts

    And a few

    Were scary looking dudes

    With the look

    Of someone who had done time

    And were capable of more violence

    I also rode the bus

    In Seattle as a graduate student

    A lot of fellow UW students

    And the usual immigrants

    Minorities etc

    And some white people

    Commuting

    And in DC

    Over the years

    I rode a lot of buses

    Mostly to and from the metro

    But I got to know

    And love the DC buses as well

    I also took the greyhound bus

    Across the country

    Several times over the years

    All over the U.S.

    From Bay Area to Stockton

    From Bay Area to Clear Lake

    From Bay area to NYC

    NYC to DC

    All over the USA

    Taking the Greyhound

    Was always an an adventure

    Met a lot of interesting people

    As people on long distant bus rides

    Tend to open up and talk

    To pass the time away

    Overseas I took the bus

    All over

    In India, in Barbados

    In Spain and in Korea

    The Korean buses

    For many years

    Were difficult for foreign visitors

    As the signs were all in Korean

    Most have signs

    Now in English, Chinese and Korean

    And are much more foreigner friendly

    Riding the bus

    In America

    Allows one access

    To the underbelly of American society

    The poor, the marginalized

    The immigrant communities

    That many middle-class white people

    Just never see

    And for that reason

    I am glad

    That I am a bus rider

    Hitch hiking Tales

    April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales

    When I was young and foolish

    Broke and stubborn

    I hitchhiked across the USA

    Started in Salt Lake City

    Where my greyhound bus pass

    Was stolen

    The station manager

    Could have helped me

    But refused to do so

    Threaten to call the cops

    When I grabbed my bags Without the stolen tags

    I said

    Go ahead

    But I am so out of here

    Wondered about Salt Lake City

    Went to a bar

    Found I had to buy my booze

    Next door

    And they would mix it for me

    Had to order food too

    After a bloody Mary

    And a burger

    I walked about town

    Saw the Mormon Temple

    Finally about 3 pm

    It was time to hit the road

    Did not look back

    Ended up in Cody Wyoming

    Got a room shower

    Steak beer

    Using my rapidly depleted cash Spent 25 dollars

    Money really went far

    Back in those days

    A band of professional

    Communist agitators

    Gave me a ride

    To Des Moines

    Lots of weed, booze

    And politics later

    Got off the road

    Slept outside

    Next day

    A beautiful woman

    Drove me to near Chicago

    In a red mustang

    Might have been

    The girl in the song

    Took it easy

    Digging her vibe

    She invited home

    But was not sure

    If her estranged husband

    Would welcome me

    So, I am being foolish

    And inexperienced with women

    Did not go to her place

    And always regretted

    That I had lost

    My chance that day

    Then on to Chicago

    Several rides later

    Visited friends

    Hit the road again

    A series of uneventful rides

    With truckers

    And others

    And a week later

    I ended in New York City

    Slept along the way

    In cars

    In truck stops

    In high way rest stops

    Always moving

    Always going

    None stop talking

    And lots of free weed

    And beer

    And conversation

    One more memorable ride

    Occurred outside Albany

    On my return to Chicago

    A middle age creepy looking man

    Picked me up

    In a brand-new Cadillac

    He was he said a dynamite deliverer

    For the Mafia

    Went to various places

    To blow up shit

    He hated a lot of people

    Particularly hippies from California

    And Jewish people

    Looking at me to confirm

    That I was both

    I told him that I lived in New York

    And had never been to California

    And although I might have looked Jewish

    As I what was called back in the day

    A “Jewfro”

    I was not Jewish

    Many years later I discovered

    That I am indeed part Jewish

    But then I did not know

    And I felt a bit of strategic information

    Might keep me alive

    Then I realized that he was just jiving with me

    And we relaxed

    And he pulled out some weed

    And beer

    And we mellowed out

    But I believe that he really was with the mob

    Perhaps not a dynamite dealer

    A real made Italian made mafia member

    By Chicago

    I had enough

    I called my Dad

    Told him what had happened

    Wanted a ticket home

    And he sent me a ticket

    And 500 dollars

    And I went home

    I told him I would tell him

    My tales some day

    But never did

    I learned so much

    About my fellow Americans

    And the strange vibe

    That was 1975

    And now it is too late

    But I wanted to finally

    Tell the world

    Of my hitchhiking tales

    In search of America 1975

     

    snarling cup of coffee

    I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee

    I pound down the coffee

    First thing I do every day as the dawning sun

    Lights up my lonesome room

    Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a God damn snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee

    I mean, – we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, bitchy, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists, Zoroastrians, drinking my god damned coffee in Hell; growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ass, kick my god damn ass to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by ex-Vietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ass, illegal in every state, imported from all over the god damn world, insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, motherfucking, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved, paranoid, pornographic,

    the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical, Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee

    As I pound down that first cup of coffee

    And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies

    Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals

    I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear

    I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair

    Lying through their teeth about the great success the government is having Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements

    I want to scream and shoot the TV and run out side Shouting   “Stop the world.

    I want to get off this fucking crazy planet”

    The earth does not care a whit about my attitude

    It merely shrugs and moves around the Sun

    In its appointed daily run

    And I sit down

    The madness dissipating a bit

    And enjoy my second cup

    Of heaven and hell

    In my morning cup of Joe

    Life In Between

    Life In-between

    For years I have lived

    In-between two worlds

    Korea

    where my wife’s family comes from

    And the Bay area

    Where I grew up

    and the laidback progressive

    wild west coast

    and the cutthroat

    Dour eastern establishment

    Washington DC

    Where I worked for 27 Years

    And I live between

    My official duties

    And my desire

    To be a wild-eyed poet

    And life in-between

    Means you belong nowhere

    Yet are everywhere

    Always disoriented

    Always half lost

    Never really feeling you belong

    That is life

    Living in-between

    the light will prevail

    April 24,

    The Light Will Prevail

    Mrs. Which says

    This much we know for sure

    Despite the lateness of the hour

    And the growing power of the Dark Thing

    In the end, lightness will prevail

    Defeating the dark one

    Samonka for Angela

    I have dreamt of you

    For almost seven long years

    And now you are here

    What can I do about this

    The only thing to do love you

    You are all I want

    All that I need in this life

    Thank to all the gods

    For bringing you into my life

    From now to the end of time

    this poem was published in Teferet journal’s 2018 Poem-a-Thon.  Please see their webpage or Facebook page for all the great poetry.  Also, check out my poetry blog, Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for these and other poems.  Thanks, Jake

    62 Years Young

    I am 62 years young

    62 years around the sun

    37 of those years

    I have spent with the love of my life —

    dream girl

     

     

     

    I married the girl of my Dreams

    first dreamt of her back in 1974

    Eight years later

    she walked off a bus

    and into my life

    April 27 the darkness grows

     

    The Darkness grows

    On distant Comazotz planet

    The red eye one smiles

    It is satisfied

    The black thing is spreading

    All the way to earth

    this poem was published in Tiferet journal’s 2018 Poem-a-Thon.  Please see their webpage or Facebook page for all the great poetry.  Also, check out my poetry blog, Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for these and other poems.  Thanks, Jake

    It is God’s will they say

     

    It is God’s will they say

    It is God’s will they say

    The neo-fascists and their ilk

    It is the white man’s burden

    To rule the unruly masses

    To this I say

    Never again

    Will we let them

    Take over the world

    And lead us back to the dark dangerous days

    Of the Holocaust

    Or the 19th-century colonial era

    Never again

    Never again

    Until hell freezes over

    And the world ends

    Angela Lee

    Angela (Acrostic poem published in Whispers)

    Angela is my life

    No better friend in the universe

    Greatest Love of all

    Every Day I thank God

    Love of my life

    Angela My Soul Mate

    Love of my long life

    Everything I ever desires

    Everything I ever needed

    American Life and Death

    As American struggles

    To cope with the ever declining standard of living

    The 1 percent loved the stock market

    Love the dismantling of  the regulatory state

    The corporate tax cuts

    and the coming plunder of the land

    Can Disney Yellowstone be the future?

    As America declines

    Back to the future

    April 2 Heading Back to the Past

    While the rest of the world

    Embraces the energy of the future

    Our great denier of the truth

    Wants to boldly take America back

    To the 19th century era of oil, and coal

    Yet perhaps it does not matter in the end

    As long as we have one another

    We will overcome

    The darkness will flee the land

    April 2 When Will this Darkness End

    As the darkness settles down on the land

    All are consumed with evil

    Foul deeds and endless darkness

    I wonder if it will ever go away

    Yes I wonder if our great nightmare will ever end

    Are we doomed to live out the decline of America?

    This is what I pray for 2018

    The end of the darkness

    that consumes our land

    haiku for angela

    Every day I wake up

    To the love of my long life

    And say Thanks to God

    thank god for angela poem

    Thank God For Angela

    Every day I wake up

    And see you there

    I thank God

    That he had the wisdom

    To send you to me

    To save me

    By bringing you into my life

    You are the sunshine

    That lights up the day

    You are reason

    I get up in the morning

    And you are reason

    I exist

    Without you I am nothing

    But dust blowing in the wind

    Waiting until death

    Takes me down

    siren song of doom

    The quiet dying swan song

    Arose out of the dismal swamp

    Through the fog shrouded woodlands of Zara

    Over the sweltering desserts of black tar

    Heading rapidly nowhere at all

    The quite sweat song of her mellifluous voice

    Echoing through the canyons of my fear

    Drawing me nearer and nearer

    I cannot resist the siren’s haunting melody

    Drawing me nearer and nearer to my doom

    My old friend self-fear cries out

    Time to escape while I can

    Yet I cannot resist

    I cannot escape

    All I can do is listen

    To the haunting enigmatic voices

    Of the siren’s sweat and sour music

    Blasting away my selfish fear

    Naked, alone I stand

    Proud in homage

    To my own gods

    Back in the swamp

    Wandering forever

    Until it seems I met you, yet again

    market rules us all

    The market rules all

    We are nothing but products

    The rights to us

    Have long been sold

    Bow down and worship

    The all mighty market

    Everything we do

    Everything we see

    Everything we are

    Nothing but our personal brand

    Nothing human left over

    Nothing authentic left over

    Nothing but lies

    Fake news

    nonsense

    The world does not care one whit

    About you and me

    As people

    It is all about the profits that can be made

    By exploiting our labor

    And once we are used up

    We become a liability

    And a burden

    If you have not made it to the top

    By age 55

    You are a loser

    And should be retired

    Forced to live out your life

    On your miserable pension

    As you wait to die

    No longer useful

    To the Masters of the Universe

    And true love

    Nothing but an illusion

    It is all about the sex, baby

    And how getting your baby

    Ahead at all costs

    Who cares about love

    It is all nothing

    But a second-hand emotion

    As the song puts it

    Love is nothing but a sexual commodity

    And we are all nothing but interchangeable

    Commodities in the marriage and love market

    And porno values rule the bedroom

    As we are nothing more than used body parts

    Who cares about friendship

    It is all about how they can use you

    And you can use them

    To get ahead

    True Love and genuine connections

    Cannot survive

    In this toxic soup

    Of the modern materialist world

    God and spirituality

    Nothing but a scam

    As our so call Christian Leaders

    Proclaim their love for you

    All they love is your donations

    And they too are part of the market

    Jesus if he ever comes back

    Will no doubt

    Be used to sell more goods

    As the right to Jesus

    Has also been sold

    love conquers hate

    They say that love conquers hate

    And that good always win in the end

    But sometimes I wonder about hate

    I always thought that my love

    For my wife would last forever

    Since I first met my love

    Love at first sight

    As the girl I was dreaming of for eight years

    Flew into my life with such brilliant light

    Our love burning as bright as a million stars

    Consuming us both in its brilliant flame

    As if our love were made of cosmic flames

    transplanted from the farthest stars

    But true love sometimes turns to true hate

    And what was wonderful on that first date

    becomes despicable over time

    What was once cute on that first date

    becomes disgusting as she become our mate

    What was once love at first sight

    Turns to darkness and resentment

    And then full-blown hatred

    And nothing but the darkest night

    And the light of a million stars

    Is replaced by a darkling night

    That consumes one’s soul

    I look at my wife every dawning day

    And see that light is still burning bright

    And the momentary darkness

    And yes, potential hatred is kept at bay

    By the brilliant rays of light

    Hatred, resentments dispelled yet again

    By the brilliance of our love

    That the million suns of love

    Are burning yet again

    And I pray constantly

    To all Gods on our mark

    that our love continues constantly

    And that our love will conquer the dark

    the truth does not make sense

    One morning

    I got up

    Hungry

    For something

    I knew not what

    I made breakfast

    Drank some snarling coffee

    And turned on the news

    And what did I see

    Talking heads

    Sprouting lies

    Nonsense words

    Gibberish

    Nightmarish phrases

    Nothing makes sense

    Politicians

    Sporting forth

    Spinners spinning spin

    Huskers hustling their hustle

    Selling me a bunch of goods

    And I did not want to buy it

    I scream

    My soul was not for sale

    And I listened hard

    Looking for the truth

    Noting but lies

    Coming out of hideous beasts

    Barking words

    Noise some noises and lies

    Snarling disgusting lies

    I sit there

    Transfigured

    Hypnotized by the overwhelming

    Stench of the bull shit

    Coming out of the TV set

    I stood up

    Smashed the TV set

    With my boot

    Trying to set myself free

    From its hold on me

    Men in black suits

    Surround me

    Put me on black helicopters

    Taking me somewhere

    I scream to no avail

    No one listens to me

    Just more noise

    Coming out of the TV set

    And I go out

    Into the dark night

    I was told

    I was suffering

    From a disease

    I was insane

    I could not longer

    Understand

    What was being said

    To me

    I asked my tormentors

    What is the truth

    They laugh

    Smiled with evil grins

    On their bloated faces

    They begin to torture me

    Because they could

    Forcing me to watch

    The President speak

    Over and over again

    Again and again

    The same words

    Black is white

    White is black

    The President is always right

    Freedom is an illusion

    Lies make you free

    And it dawned on me

    And I laughed

    As I escaped the programming

    Of the universe

    And I was free

    Truth and lies

    Are the same

    Everything are nothing

    But dangerous delusions

    As I jump out of the window

    Into the night

    I vowed I would

    See the President

    In hell

    As I die

    I am free

    Good God almighty

    Free of their lies

    At last

    Trump Our Great Compassionate Leader

    Quote the Donald Trump

    Our Great compassionate Leader

    Our Dear Leader, our Great Leader

    “Its disgusting to watch”

    As an elderly man falls down

    In front of him hitting his head

    And bleeding all over the nice marble floor

    During a charity dinner event

    At Margo Largo back in 2008

    And our compassionate leader’s first reaction

    Is to turn away not wanting to get the blood

    On his tuxedo or dirty his shoes

    Quote the Donald,

    “It is disgusting – The guy was bleeding

    all over the nice marble floor,

    I couldn’t, you know,

    he was right in front of me

    and I turned away.

    I didn’t want to touch him… he’s bleeding all over the place,

    I felt terrible. You know, beautiful marble floor,

    didn’t look like it. It changed color.

    Became very red.

    And you have this poor guy, 80 years old,

    laying on the floor unconscious,

    and all the rich people are turning away.

    ‘Oh my God! This is terrible!

    This is disgusting!’

    and you know, they’re turning away.

    Nobody wants to help the guy.

    His wife is screaming–

    she’s sitting right next to him,

    and she’s screaming.”

    And Donald the compassionate one

    Donald Trump the savior of humanity

    The greatest most compassionate person

    In the country

    Could not bother to lift a finger

    To help this elderly man

    Who could have died

    An old man who happened to fall down

    And possibly die ruining his great event

    Quote the Donald

    “I forgot to call the family

    That is not his thing at all”

    And still I wonder

    How such a disgusting excuse

    For a human being became

    The leader of the greatest nation

    On earth

    And what it means for the future

    Is it proof that we are doomed

    That America is in the final stage

    Of terminal decline

    Or will Americans wake up

    And force Donald Trump

    The great leader

    The dear leader of our country

    Out the door

    And take out the garbage

    From the WH

    Time will tell

    Time will tell

    In any event

    To quote the Donald

    “It is disgusting. Just disgusting.”

    PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED ON POETRY 24

    and Scarlet Leaf Review

    More Dental BLues

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    Have to go to the dentist

    For my twice yearly torture session

    In order to save my remaining teeth

    I must endure the never ending pain

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    I must have known over 100 dentists

    During my 61 years around the sun

    Some were good, some were great

    A few became friends

    A few became enemies

    All became richer

    From fixing my crooked no good

    very bad misbehaving evil teeth

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    All tortured me

    Saying it was for my own good

    To save my crooked wicked teeth

    My teeth are bad

    Wicked, misbehaving

    Rotten to the core

    And always have

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    I tried orthodontic braces

    As a child

    Gave it up as an adult

    Did everything except implants

    So many crowns

    So many root canals

    So many pulled teeth

    And partial dentures to boot

    So much dental work

    My teeth are gold plated

    Monuments to the dental artistry

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    A few dentists were exceptionally good

    A few exceptionally bad

    A few were crooks by and by

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    My current dentist is good

    He keeps the chit chat down

    Does not lecture me on his political views

    Imagine having a dentist praise GW Bush

    Or Trump taking your forced silence

    As acceptance of his right wing views

    Imagine a dentist talking endlessly

    About her children’s latest escapade

    While drilling away

    Assuming you cared

    When all you wanted

    Was to end the torture

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    And imagine a sexy dentist

    Or hygienist working away

    As you think of her in bed

    And can’t get that thought

    Out of you head

    As they drill and poke

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    Yes I have a love-hate relationship

    With dentists

    Can’t stand them

    Can’t stand the pain

    But they save my teeth

    And save my smile

    And so I forgive them

    One and all

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    cosmic Dog from Goa

    My final time with God

    Happened a year latter

    I was staying down in Goa

    With my wife

    Enjoying being with her

    After our reconciliation

    We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa

    Living like Kings and Queen

    Just for a few days

    High up on a hill

    Overlooking the beach

    Every morning I went down to the beach

    And did yoga by the water

    While contemplating life

    And every morning

    I saw the same dog

    Not just a dog

    But a cosmic dog

    Filled with the divine spark of God

    And the dog recognized me

    And spoke to me and I knew

    That God was present once more

    In the face of the that cosmic dog

    Kindred spirit

    perhaps to the cosmic cat

    that had save my soul

    in Berkeley so long ago

    I told the dog everything

    And he just looked at me

    With those soulful eyes of his

    And I knew he knew that I knew

    That he was possessed by God

    God had sent him to me

    To make sure that I was on the right path

    That the reconciliation that God had promoted

    Was on track that I was back with my wife

    And that everything was the way it should be

    Again I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah

    Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

    God the cosmic dog just stared at me

    I finally asked him directly

    Say if you are God the God of Jesus

    Bark once

    The Dog looked at me and barked

    I said well if you are Allah bark twice

    The dog barked twice

    Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes

    The god dog barked three times

    Hmm well are you Satan

    The dog growled at me

    And I knew I had gone too far

    Finally I was at peace

    And for the next three days

    The God Dog was my constant companion

    And I knew God for the final time

    In my life

    Cosmic Cat from Berkeley

    I next encountered the divine

    Many years later in Berkeley, California

    I had gone home to be with my Mother

    While taking leave from my job

    in the Foreign Service

    I had two weeks there by myself

    My wife came later

    near the end of the trip

    Every morning I woke up

    Had my coffee, and breakfast

    Did yoga while listening to music

    And looking out at the garden

    Then spoke to my mother

    Who was sliding into dementia

    Day by day losing her reason

    Then I would go out

    And explore the city

    Go to a museum

    Go to one neighborhood

    And just be there

    Rediscovering the Bay area

    After years of being away

    Having dinner with old friends

    Seeing movies etc

    Every morning a black cat came to visit

    The cat was friendly and waited for me

    And then would join me in my morning rambles

    Following me to the bus stop

    I stated talking to the black cat

    He looked at me with the spark of divinity

    In his dark eyes

    I called him the cosmic cat

    He seemed to like that

    He would look at me

    And I opened up to me

    Told the cat all my dark secrets

    As I walked the streets

    Of the old neighborhood

    Every morning and every evening the cat

    Would be there to greet me

    And to carry out our endless conversation

    Then I had to leave

    And in our final conversation

    I asked the cosmic cat

    Say, Cat are you just a cat

    Or are you a demonic cat

    Are you possessed by God

    Or by Satan

    The cat looked at me

    And I realized that God

    Was indeed residing in the cat

    But that god was residing everywhere

    All I had to do was open my mind

    And the rest would follow

    So I said Good bye to the cosmic cat

    And he purred and came up to me

    And I felt the comforting presence

    Of the divine spirit of God

    As I said goodbye to the cosmic cat

    And said goodbye to my mother

    As this was the last time

    That we would be able to really talk

    I told my mother about the cosmic cat

    She smiled and said that the cat

    was there for me and her

    to comfort us both in our hour of need

    and that the cat was indeed

    a cosmic cat

    published in Scarlet Leaf Review November 2017

    Meeting God in the Lake

    In my 61 years around the sun

    I encountered God four times

    At least I thought it was God

    But could never be sure

    The first time I met God

    I had taken magic mushrooms

    And had gone to a lake

    And soon was tripping inside my head

    Lost in inner space

    Zoning out tuning in

    Dropping down the proverbial rabbit hole

    And then in the middle of my madness

    I felt oneness with the universe

    My body melted away

    And I joined the universe

    All boundaries dropped away

    And I knew that the universe

    Was alive and I was part of the Cosmos

    And the Cosmos was part of me

    And I wondered at that moment

    If I was face to face with God

    I asked God to reveal himself to me

    And nothing happened

    Just laughter as the whole universe

    Burst into laughter

    And the madness began to fade

    And I slowly came down from the high

    And became aware of myself

    And I was no longer one

    With the universe

    I felt profoundly moved by the experience

    Felt that I had achieved perhaps nirvana

    Or felt the presence of God

    The feeling faded over time

    And I resume my quest to find God

    But knew that I would never again

    Come so close to the divine essence

    Of the very Universe

    published in Scarlet Leaf Review November 2017

    Because of You I’m in a Seattle Kind of Mood

    Because of you, I’m in a Seattle kind of mood

    When I look out my window

    And see the rain drops gently falling all around

    And I feel that special Seattle kind of chill

    In my bones

    I think of you with a Seattle kind of mood

    In the morning

    Wherever I am in this crazy world if I see raindrops

    Gently falling all around

    Blue mood dissolves in the rain’s gentle mist

    And I cry out with all my heart

    Because of you

    I am in a Seattle kind of mood

    As I walk down the street

    In distant foreign lands

    Whether I am in Bangkok, Taipei, Tokyo or Seoul

    New York, Moscow, Rome or San Francisco

    Whether I am in India, China, Thailand or Europe

    Whenever I feel the rain’s gentle embrace

    I get into that Seattle kind of mood

    Seattle, a Seattle kind of mood

    Fresh Salmon sizzling over a hickory smoke fire

    Ivar’s clam chowder

    And Red Hook Ale Pike place market

    Bums in Pioneer square

    And angry hippies preaching in Red Square

    Yuppies drinking downtown

    Geeks in Redmond

    Making the world safe

    For the Microsoft King

    And the Mariners loose again

    While the Huskies dream of Rose Bowls too come

    And ever where rain falling down

    oh yeah

    A Seatt1e kind of mood

    Because of you

    I get into that Seattle kind of mood

    In the morning

    As I fight the horrendous traffic

    And breathe in deadly, killer air

    I cough, cough, and remember

    The green, green air of Seattle

    And because of you,

    I get into that Seattle kind of mood

    Seattle, Seattle, kind of mood

    The Huskies are number one in my heart

    While the Mariners are always last in the nation

    But what the hell

    I’m in a Seattle kind of mood

    I sit in the International District

    Eating Dim Sum and drinking Ballad bitter

    Watching the crowds dodge the ever present rain drops

    Seattle Kind of mood

    As I wake up each day in crazy foreign lands

    I hear the falling raindrops calling me home

    Oh why did you leave me they cry out

    In a Seattle sort of voice

    Whispering in the gently falling rain

    Seattle, Seattle kind of mood

    And so my Dear

    Wherever I roam in this wide planet of ours

    From here to entreaty

    And beyond

    All the way to the red plains of Mars

    Whenever I hear the gentle patter of raindrops

    I’ll get into that Seattle kind of mood

    And dream of spending eternity with you

    Watching the Seattle rain

    Gently falling on our bumbershoots

    As we walk down the beach hand in hand

    Digging the gooey ducks while drinking Rainier Ale

    All because of you

    I’ll always be in the Seattle kind of mood

    Spring time in Oregon

    Spring has finally sprung in Oregon

    Escaping from the longer winter prison

    That has covered the land with snow

    They say that this winter

    Was a colder than normal winter

    Wetter than normal

    As the long drought finally ended

    As nature resumed its normal spring thaw

    I rejoice

    Seeing all the signs of spring

    Especially the sight of young beautiful women

    Shedding their winter clothes

    And walking about in the spring sunshine

    So wonderfully alive

    So beautiful and sexy

    As they sashay about

    Here and there

    It makes me smile

    All day long

    Yes I love Spring time

    Everywhere in the world

    But especially in Oregon

    My new found second home

    August Moods

    spring dodoitsu

    Waking up seeing you there

    Watching you as you wake up

    Fills me with such sweat desire

    Overcoming my mind

    I sit watching you all day

    Thinking of you all day long

    Wild erotic imaginings

    Love making to come

    That old blues song comes to mind

    I just want to make love to you

    I just want to make love to you

    Nothing more than that that

    I end this morning with this thought

    You are still the most wonderful

    The most beautiful creature

    In the whole universe

    spring time on capitol hill

    Sitting on a bench

    In Lincoln Park

    Heart of Capitol Hill

    Beating heart of the Empire

    On a warm Spring Day

    Watching the Cherry trees

    Watching Me

    Wondering what thoughts

    They must have heard

    The things they have seen

    Over the years

    But they are quiet

    They do not say a word

    As I fall into my spring time dreams

    Sitting on that bench

    Seeing the children and dogs play

    Looking at Spring flowers

    And pretty women

    As they stroll by

    Hearing the sounds of the city

    As I dream of my past life

    Memories of places and people

    I said to myself

    What a wonderful life

    published in writers’s newsletter

    falling rain

    The falling rain

    Of late October

    Fills me with essential dread

    As I rush about

    And end up here

    Wherever here is

    The rain outside

    Seems like the tears of god

    As I sit

    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love

    And failed dreams

    Wondering

    What went wrong?

    And what I can set right

    And the rain falls

    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling

    All over this man’s world

    And the rain falls

    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink

    Lost in dreams

    Dreaming of what

    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts

    And so I sit

    And dream the night away

    hurricanes from hell

    As I watch the endless coverage of the storms from hell

    Harvey, Irma, Jose and so many others

    It seems almost end of the world like

    As I sit on the smoky west coast

    With fires burning everywhere

    Thinking of the massive storms from hell

    Bearing down on the East Coast

    And the burning of the West Coast

    As the storms head to Margo Largo

    Winter home of our dear leader

    Threatening destruction

    The thought comes to mind

    Perhaps there really is a God

    And he is angry at us

    For destroying his world

    And I realize that God

    Has been sending us a message

    The end of the world is coming

    And I despair

    Thinking that we have an idiot in charge

    Of the United States Government

    As we face the storms of the century

    And the ever-growing threats of global terrorism

    Nuclear armed North Korea

    And global chaos

    What does our dear leader say to comfort us

    In our hour of need

    Nothing but political nonsense

    How great he is doing

    And how on top of things he is

    As the storms batter the country

    And the fires consume the west

    I realize that the earth

    Does not give a whit

    About what I think

    The world spins and spins around the sun

    The climate continues to deteriorate

    And mankind might be facing its darkest hours

    But we have the Donald

    And he will lead us through

    To the other side

    And so, I pray to the Donald

    For deliverance from the storms

    the fires burning everywhere

    the threat of nuclear war

    the end of the world

    fires burning Bright

    I look out my window in Medford Oregon

    at the unnaturally dark smoke-filled skies

    Seems almost like the end of the world

    Out here in the smoke-filled skies

    Of the west

    And realize that that the entire west coast

    Is burning up

    Quote the Donald,. “Give me clean, beautiful and healthy air – not the same old climate change (global warming) bullshit! I am tired of hearing this nonsense.”

    I consult the Donald for further wisdom and advice

    and find that this is what he had to say

    . “Well, I think the climate change is just a very, very expensive form of tax. A lot of people are making a lot of money. I know much about climate change. I’d be—received environmental awards. And I often joke that this is done for the benefit of China. Obviously, I joke. But this is done for the benefit of China, because China does not do anything to help climate change. They burn everything you could burn; they couldn’t care less. They have very—you know, their standards are nothing. But they—in the meantime, they can undercut us on price. So, it’s very hard on our business.”

    Ah it all makes sense

    Climate change is a Chinese hoax

    So, they can destroy the US economy

    Thanks to our dear great leader’s wisdom

    I am relieved

    And realize that it will all be alright

    If I just follow the wisdom

    Of our dear leader

    dental torture blues

    Sitting in the dental chair

    Undergoing dental surgery

    While the dentist probes

    And tortures me

    With his instruments of pain

    The Frank Zappa song plays over and over

    The torture never stops

    The torture never stops

    And I think of the mad dentist

    In Little House of Horrors

    The Jack Nicolson character

    Who screams Pain is good

    As he assaults his patients

    Doing root canals

    Without anesthesia

    And so, I endure the torture

    Of the dentist

    In the vain hope

    I can save my teeth

    Until the next time

    I undergo dental torture

    The song faces away

    And I slowly recover

    Then as I leave

    I am confronted with the bill

    And the song roars back to life

    The torture never stops

    the torture never stops

    masters of the universe

    The earth has been invaded

    By hideous blood sucking vampires

    Disgusting vile alien creatures

    Devoid of all compassion

    Lacking any human empathy

    These so-called Masters of the universe

    These psychopathic monsters

    Are everywhere

    They even took over the White house

    And to these vile creatures

    Everyone is nothing but a commodity

    These alien monsters

    Worship the god of the market

    While proclaiming that they serve Jesus

    Jesus would turn over in his grave

    To see these people in action

    The airlines in Florida

    Facing the worst hurricane in world history

    Decided that the expeditated thing to do

    The MBA approved thing to do

    The profit maximizing, screw the public thing to do

    Was to raise prices 600 percent

    Without prior notice charging 3,000 dollars

    Instead of doing the right thing

    The compassion thing

    The human thing of offering free flights to all

    These executives, these so-called Masters of the Universe

    thus, demonstrated that they are no longer human

    But greed driven monsters

    As are all the other soulless automatons

    Who have taken over the world

    Perhaps some day

    Jesus will come back

    And smite these motherfuckers

    Send them to the hell they so richly deserve

    We can only pray

    For our deliverance from such evil

    From the soulless evil masters of the universe

    Who have taken over the planet

    It Can’t Happen Here

    The pundits and talking heads

    The chaterati classes

    All assure us

    That it can’t happen here

    Fascism will never happen here

    Our democratic system

    Superior to all others

    Check and balances

    Power of the media

    Will prevent fascism

    From taking root

    In the American soil

    They laugh

    And talk amongst themselves

    And laugh some more

    Convincing themselves

    Meantime the darkness

    Continues to descend

    As our President becomes more erratic

    And frankly shows signs of insanity

    The fascists supporting him

    Gather strength

    And one day

    They strike back

    With furry

    When the powers that be

    Try to remove the President

    He mobilizes his army

    His army of deplorables

    And they mobilize

    And his fascist supporters

    In the government

    Demand law and order

    And restoration of the Leader of the people

    As they have started calling the President

    He comes back into power

    And demands

    Unspecified emergency powers

    And so, the cycle ends

    And fascism wrapped inside a Christian flag

    Comes to America

    Full vengeance

    As they take charge

    And the chaterati classes

    Are all arrested

    The first to be rounded up

    America has fallen

    The media stars

    All comply

    The leader is great

    America is great

    And all who oppose him

    Must be terror sympathizers

    Or Tersymps for short

    And deserve to be rounded up

    Public protests are forbidden

    Muslims must register

    Atheists must be fired

    Alt media is shut down

    The internet is censored

    And I weep

    As I see the once great American nation

    Descend into a fascist nightmare

    And I wait for the midnight knock on the door

    Knowing that I am on the list.

    Knock Knock knock

    Open up,  it is homeland security……

    Reflections on Turning 61

    Today I woke up

    And realized that I was 61 years’ old

    Felt that I had lived

    And almost died

    So many times

    I have challenged life

    And faced my fate

    And yet

    Through it all

    I am still here

    I am still here

    And that means something

    Something to me

    And something to the universe

    Yes, I am still alive

    And kicking

    And nothing is stopping me

    Yet still I wonder

    Still I wonder

    What does it all mean?

    Life began with you

    I first dreamt of Angela when I was but a lad of 17 living in Berkeley, California.  It was 1974 and life seemed full of possibilities in that magical year the tail end of the fabled 60’s.   I fell asleep that fateful day in a boring Physics class. I woke up seeing the most beautiful women in the world looking at me.  I was shocked and did not know what to say.  She spoke to me in a strange language but somehow, I knew that someday we were to be together. I just knew that I would meet the girl in the dream. It was love at first sight.  She disappeared and I fell to the floor yelling, “who are you?”

    Then I started having the same dream month after month for seven long years.  I had to decide where to go in the Peace Corps and chose to go to Korea because I knew she would be there.  I looked for her every day knowing that someday she would walk out of my dreams and into my life.

    Then one day I had the last dream.  She walked off the bus in front of me.  I was shocked did not know what to say and she smiled at me melting my heart away.  I got her number agreed to meet the next day.  She came to my class room and we talked at length.

    She was madly in love with me and she had to have me.  I told her I felt the same way.  We married two months later.  And that was the beginning of 35 years of happiness.

    When I first saw you

    Standing on the hot roadway

    I knew life began

    That was the end game

    The beginning of my life with you

    A journey with you

    love at first sight

    You were in my dreams

    appearing every evening

    for seven long years

    until one day I met you

    and that changed my life

    when you walked into life

    stepping out of the night time

    and into the light

    when you walked into life

    stepping out of the night time

    and into the light

    making everything so brilliant

    changing my life forever

    you are my angel

    You are my angel

    sent from God up in heaven

    to take me to life beyond

    one moment

    one moment, one day

    You walked out of that damned bus

    stepped into my life

    waking up to no you

    waking up to no you

    absent in my bed at night

    not absent from dreams

    thursday early evening

    thursday early evening

    thinking dark thoughs of you

    can you cure these thoughts

    Rapid CIty Nowhere

    Last summer

    We drove across the country

    Just the wife and me

    10,000 miles

    31 states

    Three months on the road

    I now know why people don’t live

    In South Dakota

    Hot, dry dusty

    Windy as hell

    Black Hills are nice

    But after seeing Mt. Rushmore

    There is not much left to do

    Rapid City did not impress me

    Nor did Sioux Falls

    And wall drugs

    Well the free water was nice

    But it is a nothing town

    In a nothing state

    On the edge of the badlands

    And the Sioux reservation

    There is a reason the Indians live there

    No one else wanted the land

    And they are warehoused there

    So I drove through Rapid City

    And thought that it is the heart of Trump Land

    The land of the forgotten

    The left behind

    Just another nothing burger of a State

    In the middle of nowhere

    Truly flyover country

    looking out my window

    I look out my window

    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat

    That lives underneath the apartment house

    And look out at the park

    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me

    Kindred spirits perhaps

    Retired waiting to die

    The Voice of My Doom

    walking deep in the woods

    high above the city

    near the airport

    I heard them

    then saw them

    hideous black crows

    looking at me

    cackling at me

    laughing at me

    mocking me

    calling me names

    I asked what they wanted

    they laughed

    and said

    nothing but your doom

    and they flew around me

    dive bombing me

    and surrounding me

    calling me names

    in Korean and English

    as I fled down the trail

    with the demon birds

    hot on my trail

    no more coffee blues

    Note: published in Eskimo Pie, HIll Magazine and other sites

    I love coffee

    Always have

    And coffee has loved me back

    But lately I have sourced on her

    Soured on the whole coffee scene

    On the harshness of the morning brew

    And the promises it makes

    As I sip of its nectar

    Drawn into its lair

    Drinking drop by drop

    As the caffeine takes over

    Rewriting my every nerve

    Turning me into a slave

    For its perverted pleasure

    Yes, I love coffee

    But I am afraid

    Coffee is a harsh mistress

    Demanding so much of me

    Promising the sun

    And delivering the Moon

    As I drink her swill

    Deeping under her influence

    I have the coffee blues

    Can’t live with our her

    Can’t live with her

    I try

    But tea does not cut it

    Not really

    Booze does not do it

    At least not in the morning

    Yoga is not enough of a buzz

    Nor is the runner’s high

    And I am afraid deadly afraid of cocaine

    And speed and drugs and energy drinks

    And so I remain a slave to coffee

    My only legal drug

    As I sip another and fall under her seductive spread

    Once more failing my resolve

    To skip coffee for that day

    That morning that moment

    I shall never be free of her spell

    Ever and she knows it

    As she beckons me

    Every morning with her intoxicating smell

    Imagining the end of the world

    I saw the four horsemen of the apocalypse

    Beckoning me to join them on their midnight ride

    Death, pestilence, plague and war

    They were ready to ride into the sunset

    Spreading their hate with them

    As they led the world to its foretold doom

    The end days were approaching they told me

    And their time was near

    I begged them to hold off

    To give us more time

    To work things out

    They laughed and said

    Time waits for no one

    We have a divine plan to work out

    You have been warned before

    And will be warned again and again

    But soon it will be time

    And we must do our duty

    To bring an end to this benighted world

    And fulfill our destiny

    And yours

    But for now

    We will let you sleep

    And let you prepare yourself

    For the time is near

    The end of the world is coming

    It is later than you think

    Soon soon the antichrist will come

    Uniting the world

    And leading the battles too come

    Before the end of the world

    And mankind ceases to exist

    Just dust in the wind

    Of a dead planet

    In a forgotten corner of an uncaring universe

    All part of God’s plan

    Lost and Found

    I was lost

    And you found me

    You walked out of my dreams

    And into my life

    And that made all the difference

    In the world

    As you entered my life

    I was all alone in this cruel world

    And you provided shelter

    And comfort

    I did not know what I wanted

    And you gave me what I wanted

    You gave me meaning

    You gave me purpose

    You gave me love

    And understanding

    peace and happiness

    Joy, laughter and fun

    You were endlessly fascinating

    Could not keep my eyes off you

    You were the most beautiful women

    In the world to me

    And you still are

    So many years later

    Like a fine bottle of wine

    Gets better with age

    And you gave me

    Endless nights of wild love making

    Which has gotten better

    As well

    And I fell under your spell

    from the day I met you

    I was lost

    And you found me

    And if you go first

    I will be lost again

    Can’t live without you

    By my side

    Thus is has always been

    Between us

    We are so entangled

    So interwoven

    And that is the way

    It was meant to me

    Ode to Coffee

    ODE TO COFFEE

    Published Hill Rag, Eskimo Pie, Coffee with Underwood

    Mistress of sacred love

    Sacred lady of desire

    You start my day

    Setting my heart on fire

    With your dark delicious brew

    And throughout the day

    Whenever the mean old blues come by

    You chase them away

    With your bitter {sweat} (sweet?) ambrosia{l brew}

    Every time I inhale your {witches brew} (witch’s brew)

    I am filled with power, light and love

    And everything is al right Jack

    If only for a few fleeting minutes

    I love you oh coffee goddess

    In all your magical forms

    In the dark coffee of the dawning day

    In the sizzling coffee in the mid morning break

    In the afternoon siesta break

    And in the post dinner desert drink

    I love you my coffee mistress

    You are my refuge

    From this horrid world

    And you are my secret lover

    Never disappoint me, ever

    I’ve never had a bad cup

    Of that I can be sure

    Even the dismal coffee

    Served at Denny’s at 3 am

    Is still sweat loving coffee

    Even the farmer brother’s diner coffee

    Excites me and gets me going

    Asking for another cup of divine delight

    Coffee always is there

    It is always on and piping hot

    With hidden dark secrets

    Swirling in its liquid essence

    Coffee is my last vice

    My only legal vice left

    Coffee does not cheat on me

    It is always faithful, always true

    It does not turn on its friends

    And all it asks in return

    Is that you come back

    Cup after cup after cup

    A good cup of coffee

    Is a little bit of heaven

    In a cup of dark liquid hell

    Coffee is like a drug

    But a good drug that does what is should

    And never complains

    It does not get grouchy

    It does not hurt you

    It does not make you crazy

    But allows the muse to come out

    And play with it

    Coffee led to the American Revolution

    As patriots drank coffee

    To rebel against the aristocratic English tea

    Coffee started the London Stock market

    And started the gossips mills running

    Every great invention

    Was fed by coffee’s sweat brew sweet allure

    All the great thinkers

    All the great leaders

    All were enslaved to coffee’s magic

    Yeah

    I sing my praises

    Of the great glorious coffee lady

    Long may she continue

    To be my sweat companion

    Long may coffee continue

    To rule my heart

    And set my heart on fire

    I love thee

    Mistress coffee

    And sometimes I think

    You love me too

    Capitol Hill in the Springtime

    Capitol Hill in the Spring *

    *Published Writer’s Newsletter June 2017

    Sitting on a bench

    In Lincoln Park

    Heart of Capitol Hill

    Beating heart of the Empire

    On a warm Spring Day

    Watching the Cherry trees

    Watching Me

    Wondering what thoughts

    They must have heard

    The things they have seen

    Over the years

    But they are quiet

    They do not say a word

    As I fall into my spring time dreams

    Sitting on that bench

    Seeing the children and dogs play

    Looking at Spring flowers

    And pretty women

    As they stroll by

    Hearing the sounds of the city

    As I dream of my past life

    Memories of places and people

    I said to myself

    What a wonderful life

    the decline of America

    You see it everywhere

    The unmistakable signs

    That the decline of America

    Is in full swing

    As the world leaders turn away

    From dealing with the US

    And we have gone past the tipping point

    There is nowhere left to go

    But downward

    As the Empire begins to collapse

    Victim of imperial overreach

    Like all empires before

    The DC metro on a good day

    Is a broken-down remnant

    Of a once proud system

    The future of mass transit

    Its proponents said

    The cost of rebuilding America mounts

    And our politicians are afraid

    That it will costs trillions of dollars

    Just to prevent the US from collapsing

    Into third world irrelevance

    We have the world’s most expensive military

    A million dollars per missile

    And yet we can’t find the money

    To provide decent health care for all

    Bombs, and tax cuts for the wealthy

    Are the only things

    That the Republicans care about

    And the world looks in amazement

    At the clown boy President

    As he struts about

    Looking more and more

    Like some Banana Republic

    President for life

    With his family grabbing as much loot

    As they can

    From the federal government

    Before the coming revolution

    Overthrows them

    When did we start this decline?

    Some say 1960s started it

    Others say Nixon’s to blame

    Others claim that it was Carter’s fault

    Or Saint Reagan’s fault

    Or the other boy President GW Bush

    Or Obama the fake American’s fault

    Does it really matter

    All I know

    Is the America I knew

    The can do anything country

    The country that went to the moon

    Is alas no more

    And I morn for our lost liberties

    Our lost sense of purpose

    Our lost sense that America

    Was the last great hope of Mankind

    And still I wonder

    Can America be made great again?

    As our President Trump proclaims

    The end times approaches

    Nuclear war is talked about

    Another missile crisis

    And instead of JFK leading the country

    We have Donald John Trump

    The one and only

    The greatest con man

    To ever get elected

    And I fear the end is in sight

    As America begins its decline

    The right claims that the left has started it

    And the left claims that the right has started it

    And both sides claim that the civil war

    Is inevitable

    Or will we embrace a progressive future

    With an economy that works for all

    I have no answer

    It seems the end is coming

    Sooner than we think

    As Emperor Trump leads us

    Down a dark, strange dangerous path

    And so, it goes

    The decline of empires

    And I pray

    That I may survive

    The end of times

    looking out my window

    Looking Out My Window

    I look out my window

    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat

    That lives underneath the apartment house

    And look out at the park

    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me

    Kindred spirits perhaps

    Retired waiting to die

    Rapid City Nowhere

    Incheon 2016

    I live in Incheon

    Part of the 3 million people who live here

    Mostly Koreans

    90,000 foreigners though live here too

    My apartment is next to a park

    And I walk almost daily in the mountains

    Loosing myself in the hills

    Overlooking the airport

    The town has lots of restaurants

    Places too go

    Things to do

    And the airport is next door

    Soon there will be a casino complex opening up

    As they turn this quite suburban village

    Into a Mini-Las Vegas

    Complete with a strip

    Can’t wait

    Going to Seoul is a snap

    50 minutes on the train

    And I am there

    Wherever I want to be

    Korea is turning out to be

    A good place too live

    So much better

    Than it was when I first arrived in 1979

    And it was grim back then

    Now it is the toast of Asia

    And for that I am glad

    Incheon

    Incheon 2016

    I live in Incheon

    Part of the 3 million people who live here

    Mostly Koreans

    90,000 foreigners though live here too

    My apartment is next to a park

    And I walk almost daily in the mountains

    Loosing myself in the hills

    Overlooking the airport

    The town has lots of restaurants

    Places too go

    Things to do

    And the airport is next door

    Soon there will be a casino complex opening up

    As they turn this quite suburban village

    Into a Mini-Las Vegas

    Complete with a strip

    Can’t wait

    Going to Seoul is a snap

    50 minutes on the train

    And I am there

    Wherever I want to be

    Korea is turning out to be

    A good place too live

    So much better

    Than it was when I first arrived in 1979

    And it was grim back then

    Now it is the toast of Asia

    And for that I am glad

    Lost and Found

    I was lost

    And you found me

    You walked out of my dreams

    And into my life

    And that made all the difference

    In the world

    As you entered my life

    I was all alone in this cruel world

    And you provided shelter

    And comfort

    I did not know what I wanted

    And you gave me what I wanted

    You gave me meaning

    You gave me purpose

    You gave me love

    And understanding

    peace and happiness

    Joy, laughter and fun

    You were endlessly fascinating

    Could not keep my eyes off of you

    You were the most beautiful women

    In the world to me

    And you still are

    So many years later

    Like a fine bottle of wine

    Gets better with age

    And you gave me

    Endless nights of wild love making

    Which has gotten better

    As well

    And I fell under your spell

    from the day I met you

    I was lost

    And you found me

    And if you go first

    I will be lost again

    Can’t live without you

    By my side

    Thus is has always been

    Between us

    We are so entangled

    So interwoven

    And that is the way

    It was meant to me

    Why I am Not A Christian Easter THoughts

    April 16 Why I am not a Christian Easter Thoughts

    On Easter Sunday, I often think about Christianity

    I don’t understand why anymore would believe such nonsense

    The essential story makes no sense

    An imaginary all powerful deity that no one has ever seen or heard

    Except for psychotic patients or Drug users

    Comes down to earth and impregnates a married woman

    Who has never had sex for some reason

    And her husband is okay with that

    Believes her wild story

    And still does not have sex

    Until after the baby is born

    Then there is total silence

    Nothing about Jesus’s childhood

    30 years later he emerges

    Preaching love, peace and brotherhood

    And denouncing the corrupt temple leaders

    And the Jewish leaders as well

    The miracles also don’t make any sense

    In the real world, you can’t turn fish into bread

    Can’t walk on water

    Can raise the dead etc. etc.

    Just does not happen

    In the world, we live in

    And has not happen since those ancient days

    Then the last supper makes some sense

    Jesus knows he is about to be betrayed

    But he does not confront Judas

    Does not run away

    Does not encourage his disciplines

    To run away with him

    The whole Jesus Mary M story

    Also, does not make sense

    Jesus must have been married

    Or he was gay

    There is no doubt

    Either way the story makes no sense

    The crucifixion is the only part of the story I buy

    Jesus was put to death because he was a rebel leader

    And the Romans tolerated no dissent

    To the Roman’s right to conquer and rule

    The rising from the dead stories

    All contradict one another

    And Jesus was either walking as a normal human being

    Or was a ghost

    The door was rent open as if by lightening

    Or not

    Finally, we have been waiting over 2,000 years for his return

    You would think if the story is remotely true

    He would have turned up by now

    Except he has

    As many lunatics claim to be Jesus

    in the flesh

    all delusional of course

    and that is what I think of Christianity

    nothing but fairy tales and mass delusions

    surrounding a kernel of truth

    Love one again

    Treat each other right

    Don’t be consumed with greed

    But couldn’t that message

    Be made simpler

    Without all the associated nonsense?

    So, on this day I say

    Open your minds

    And discard the nonsensical elements of Christian thought

    And follow the true teachings of Jesus

    Even if you don’t believe in the imaginary man in the sky

    Love Poems from Poem a Thon

    April 11 3 Am Nightmares

    3 am

    The bewitching hour

    When the wild things come out

    And play

    And torture you

    With endless wild accusations

    And nightmarish visions

    As I toss and turn

    Trying to escape

    I look over at my wife

    And as always

    Repeat the mantra

    Everything will be alright

    And the wild things are banished

    To the dark corners of my mind

    And I recover my happiness

    And I smile

    As I look at the sleeping beauty

    Still the most beautiful women in the world

    Still the most alluring women in the world

    Still in love with her

    After 35 years

    The love gets stronger and stronger

    As she overcomes my despair

    And the sun comes up

    And I think to myself

    What a wonderful life I have

    With the women of my dreams

    April 13 Spring Doositsu for Angela Poem a Thon

    Waking up seeing you there

    Watching you as you wake up

    Fills me with such sweat desire

    Overcoming my mind

    I sit watching you all day

    Thinking of you all day long

    Wild erotic imaginings

    Love making to come

    That old blues song come to mind

    I just want to make love to you

    I just want to make love to you

    Nothing more than that that

    I end this morning with this thought

    You are still the most wonderful

    The most beautiful creature

    In the whole universe

    April 14 Love Jones

    I got the Love Jones, baby

    And it won’t leave me alone

    I got the Love Jones, baby

    And it won’t leave me alone

    I’ve been writing these love poems

    All day long

    And I have been dreaming

    Of all the ways, I could make love

    To my secret lover

    If only she will let me be

    If only she will open her heart

    And let me in

    Perhaps the love Jones

    Might leave me along

    But I got the love Jones

    Bad baby

    Can’t you tell?

    That the love Jones

    Has grabbed my Soul

    Twisted it up into little pieces

    And I need you

    To unravel the Love Jones

    I need you to answer the call

    Of the Love Jones Baby

    I need you

    To let me be free

    Of the spell

    Of the Love Jones

    I got the Love Jones

    Baby

    I got it bad

    And only you can

    Put a stop to the love Jones

    Baby

    Let me enter your life

    Put out the fire of desire

    Send the Love Jones packing

    And let me make sweat love to you

    Oh, Love Jones

    Go away

    Let me be in peace

    Love Jones

    Leave me be

    Baby

    I got the love Jones

    For you

    Can’t you see?

    What you do to me?

    I got the Love Jones

    Baby and it ain’t going away

    Until I get to make love to you

    Then perhaps this Love Jones

    Will leave me be

    Love Jones

    NIghtmares from poem a thon

    April 11 3 Am Nightmares

    April 12 Zombie Apocalypse

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    Everywhere zombies galore

    The end of the world had become

    And the zombification of the world had begun

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    No one knew when or where the first zombies appeared

    One moment zombies were just a collective figment of our deranged imagination

    The next moment we were all living in a zombie apocalypse nightmare

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    Some said the zombies were created in a lab

    Released by mad scientists and the military

    Others said it was plague sent by God himself

    To punish mankind for tolerating evil and moral depravity

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The Christians and Muslims prayed

    But their prayers went unheard

    As they too soon became zombies

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The zombies hunted in packs

    Overwhelming their victims

    Killing most instantly

    But some they simply bit

    And turned them into fellow zombies

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The zombies did not attack one another

    They preferred living live flesh

    Human flesh but they ate everything they saw

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    And so, I ran into the countryside

    With my fellow humans

    Hit out deep in the woods

    Hiding from zombies

    And crazed cannibal gangs alike

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The world ended that day

    And our nightmare world began

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    Trumpian Nightmares

    April 2 Walls

    April 9 Pane e circus 2017 Redux

    By order of his excellency

    Emperor Donald the First

    The merciful,

    the Christian King of Kings

    The Sultan of Sultans

    The Emperor of North America

    Be it hereby decreed

    That the ancient honorable gladiator games

    Of the old Roman Empire

    Have been restored

    Each city in the Empire will host a team

    They will compete for the honor

    Of the national championship

    The games will start

    With fighting animals

    Fighting fish

    Roosters

    Cheetahs

    Tiger

    Bears

    Wolves

    And lions

    Then a man lion contest

    With a heretic thrown to the lions

    If he or she lives

    They will be pardoned

    Then then main games

    Six men/women teams compete

    Armed with swords, knifes, mace, clubs

    They fight until one man or women remans

    The victor of the game

    Those who are prisoners

    Can compete for their freedom

    And a full imperial pardon

    Let the games begin

    Long may the games reign

    In the new North America Empire

    Praise be to the Emperor

    Donald the First

    April 10 Long Live Emperor Donald the Ist

    Ladies and Gentlemen

    My fellow American citizens

    Greetings and salutations

    Today is a momentous day

    The old corrupt USA republic is no more

    The constitution that once protected us

    Has been overthrown and violated

    The barbarians at the gate

    Have taken over

    And ruined the once great land

    The last hope of the world

    And so, I had no choice

    But to kill the old rotten regime

    And restore American greatness

    To save democracy

    I must destroy it

    And so, starting today

    I will serve as the Emperor of North America

    I welcome Canada and Mexico

    And the Caribbean islands

    To join The North American Empire

    As we rebuild America

    Restoring American greatness

    And making us all proud again

    Proud subjects of the New American Empire

    May the Empire reign forever and a day

    Triumphant against all enemies

    And so, I take this burden

    Sadly, but gladly

    I will serve you

    As your Empire

    And my son Donald

    Will serve as our second emperor

    Once I pass from this world

    His son will serve as the third emperor

    And so on until the end of time

    And we will reign in our new capitol city

    Colorado Springs

    Until the end of time

    Washington will remain in our hearts

    As the capitol of the old Republic

    But the heirs of the Roman Empire

    Need a new Imperial Capitol

    And soon we will conquer Mars

    And expand our Empire to the Starts

    Long Live the Empire

    Long Live America

    Good night

    And may God Bless

    This great Empire

    Cats fpr poem a thon

    April 7  Watching Cats Hunt

    Early morning

    Watching two white cats

    Hunting a white dove

    The cats hunt in pairs

    Tracking the bird

    The bird flies away

    Safe for now

    And I think about the cats

    And the hunt goes on

    Such is life

    And the fate of cats

    And birds

    April 19 Cats

    Cats

    I often wonder about Cats

    What do they think of us

    It seems at time

    That cats think of humans

    As their slaves

    We exist to feed them

    To comfort them

    To save them from their enemies

    And to worship them

    Yes, cats are an alien species

    Totally different from humanity

    Detached, and almost evil

    If we ever encounter an alien civilization

    God help us if it’s a cat based civilization

    We would then be engaged

    In the epic mother of all wars

    As cats and humans would not get along

    The cats would think we were their slaves

    And we would resent and fear them

    And secretly worship their alien ways

    wagontire oregon for poem a thon

    April 6 Wagontire, Oregon

    1973

    In 1973, I went on a road trip

    With my father

    We left Berkeley to go to Yakima

    Where my father had a summer cabin

    He was a college professor

    And had July and August off

    And we spent the summers

    Every summer from 1968 to 1978

    Our whole dysfunctional family

    Our annual road trip to hell and back

    As we did not get along at all

    We decided to drive through Eastern Oregon

    Just my father and me

    Just for the hell of it

    The rest of the family was already there

    My father and I shared a travel lust

    One of the few things we shared

    This was one of our best trips

    We got along

    Which was unusual

    Normally our relationship

    Was fraught

    As we were so different

    We left Klamath Falls

    A real nothing burg in those days

    And headed east along highway 395

    As we entered the desert of eastern Oregon

    We entered a different world

    High mountain dessert

    Almost no one on the road

    Then we saw the sign

    Wagontire Oregon

    100 miles ahead

    99 miles ahead

    98 miles ahead

    We counted down the signs

    Miles after miles

    As we drove into the gathering dusk

    We speculated that Wagontire

    Must be a giant truck stop

    In the middle of no where

    We pulled into the town

    Nothing there but a gas station

    Motel and café

    We decided to stop

    Last gas for 100 miles

    According to the highway signs

    In the morning

    We chatted with the owner

    He was the sheriff, the fire chief

    The owner of the motel, gas station

    The only business in town

    And the only place open

    For one hundred miles

    I noticed a highway sign outside

    Welcome to Wagontire, Oregon

    Population 2 ½ humans 10 dogs, 50.000 sheep

    I asked the Sherriff

    Say who is the ½ human?

    My idiot son!

    And we left.

    200 miles later

    We finally left Eastern Oregon

    2016

    In 2016 my wife and I drove through Eastern Oregon

    As part of our epic cross country trip

    10,000 miles

    31 states in three months

    On the way from Medford to Yellowstone

    We drove along highway 395

    The signs for Wagontire was gone

    And we drove through the town

    The motel was abandoned

    Nothing there at all

    And that sign was gone too

    I said I suppose the idiot son

    Never took over the business

    And we speculated about Wagontire

    And all other nothing burgs

    We drove through that summer

    Heart of Trump’s America

    True fly over country

    more poem a thon poems

    April 2 Walls

    Trump wants a wall

    Between America and Mexico

    A wall against the southern hordes

    A wall based on fear and hate

    A wall to make America safe

    A wall to make America great again

    And yet I wonder

    Will his wall fall

    Like the Berlin wall

    And the great wall

    And all the other walls

    They all failed

    All of them

    Walls divide us

    Walls make us

    Into different tribes

    Between the pure

    And the impure

    St Reagan

    Said Tear Down this Wall

    Will future Presidents

    Tear down this begotten wall

    Or will it become a tourist attraction

    Another great wall

    Against barbarian hordes

    April 4 Changes

    I reflect upon my life

    As the sun comes up

    What could I have changed

    What would I have changed

    If I could go back in time

    What would I tell my earlier self

    What would I do differently

    And what have I learned

    The one thing

    that I would not have changed

    is meeting the women of my dreams

    the chance meeting on a bus

    that changed everything

    in a moment

    I met my fate

    That day on the bus

    And that is the end of the story

    April 5 Facing Life’s Challenges Together

    Woke up at 0 dark hundred

    Vowing to boldly go forth

    And face the challenges of the future

    Without fear

    Knowing that I have you there

    Makes all the difference in the world

    As we meet our fate

    Together

    Until the day we die

    Poems for April Poem a thon

    Poems by Jake Cosmos Aller For Poem a Thon 2017

    JOHN (“JAKE”) COSMOS ALLER is a

    April 1 Berkeley California

    Growing up in the 60’s

    In Berkeley almost 50 years ago

    I think back

    At those turbulent times

    Those crazy wonderful times

    Berkeley is a wonderful place

    In many ways

    Stuck forever in 1967

    A true time travel experience

    Every time I go back

    And relive the memories

    Of the 60’s

    The 60’s never died

    They continue

    In college towns

    Across the world

    And Berkeley

    Remains the mecca

    Of the counter cultural revolution

    Many things have changed

    But the organic food revolution

    Became mainstream

    Marijuana spread out

    The sexual revolution

    Became mainstream

    So much of the world

    Is but a reflection

    Of the revolution of the 60’s

    And the conservative counter-revolution

    That we are still fighting

    So, I salute

    My homeland

    Berkeley

    The center of my universe

    April 2 Lithia Springs

    Staying at Lithia Springs

    Soaking in the healing waters

    Soaking my pains away

    Renewing my life

    Renewing my love

    As we both soak away

    As the pain of life go away

    And our love grows

    With each soaking session

    Life is good

    At the hot springs water

    Sooths us and smooth us

    And we fall in love

    Again and again

    Ghosts from World War Two

    12-17 2013 5 am

    I am walking through a crowded rural trail in rural France.  With a start I realize I am walking through a world war 11 graveyard. The graves have released the dead and the dead are walking trying to communicate but they are merely ghostly images of the dead soldiers.  Millions of them lost wandering about and when they see me they beseech me to help them find their lost loves and I tell them that I cannot help them that they are dead and then they cry and the anguished sounds of the dead and dying soldiers fill the air and the room is filled with the sounds and terrors of the long ago battle.  The scene shifts a bit and I am marching into battle with them before they had died and realize that the end is coming but there is nothing I can do but watch the coming of death and watch with horror the death of my new best friends.  Then the scene clears the ghosts smile and say, “see that’s what happened to us.  Please tell the world to not do this again.  Please end the war everywhere. Please Please Please… “And I promise and wake up feeling that I had made a commitment but to whom and what I knew not.

    Ghosts from World War Two

    12-17 2013 5 am

    I am walking through a crowded rural trail in rural France.  With a start I realize I am walking through a world war 11 graveyard. The graves have released the dead and the dead are walking trying to communicate but they are merely ghostly images of the dead soldiers.  Millions of them lost wandering about and when they see me they beseech me to help them find their lost loves and I tell them that I cannot help them that they are dead and then they cry and the anguished sounds of the dead and dying soldiers fill the air and the room is filled with the sounds and terrors of the long ago battle.  The scene shifts a bit and I am marching into battle with them before they had died and realize that the end is coming but there is nothing I can do but watch the coming of death and watch with horror the death of my new best friends.  Then the scene clears the ghosts smile and say, “see that’s what happened to us.  Please tell the world to not do this again.  Please end the war everywhere. Please Please Please… “And I promise and wake up feeling that I had made a commitment but to whom and what I knew not.

    Everything Will Be All Right, Everything Will Be All Right

    12-12-2013 4:30 am

    In the midst of my gloomy thoughts

    Of the endless nightmare

    Of my endless despair

    I looked over

    And saw my wife

    Sleeping peacefully away

    And I hugged her

    And felt something stir in me

    I heard an angel’s voice

    Saying “everything will be all right, everything will be all right”

    And then I saw her wake up

    Smiling at me

    And a chorus of angels filled the room

    Singing “everything will be all right, everything will be all right”

    And I smiled

    And she went back to sleep

    The angelic chords faded away

    And the darkness that had infected my soul

    Began to recede back into the dark corners

    From which it sprung

    And I smiled

    And chanted alongside the angelic choir

    Everything will be all right

    Everything will be all right

    And I knew it would be

    As long as I had her by my side

    And I smiled

    And got up

    Knowing that I had defeated

    The darkness once more

    And I was ready

    To face the dawning day

    Everything will be all right

    where do you and I begin

    I woke up one day and realized

    I no longer knew

    where you and I began

    and where you and I ended

    we had become almost one

    We talked in half sentences

    Knowing what the other wanted

    and knowing how it would end

    We ate the same foods with some resistance

    because I still crave an old fashioned American meal

    but still we were becoming more and more the same

    and I was scared of loosing myself

    In your embrace

    and becoming you

    and you becoming me

    and this fear of losing me

    in the ocean of us

    overwhelms me at time

    but I know that I will always

    Return to your arms

    because I cannot live

    A moment without you at my side

    and I know you are the same

    we feel each other’s inner pain

    we feel each other’s outer pain

    and our history has merged

    into one

    and is that the secret

    of a long marriage?

    Have I figured it all out

    in the end does it come to this?

    a merging of two souls and two bodies?

    I don’t have the answers

    But I don’t have any more doubts

    or regrets at the path I have taken

    I still look forward

    to waking up each

    Seeing you there

    and knowing that everyday

    we have together

    is a gift that I will cherish

    Until my dying breath

    The Storm is Coming

    The Storm is Coming

    January 3, 2012

    I see a dangerous storm brewing in America

    I hear the dangerous creeping sounds

    I see on TV

    The grinning masses

    The lies

    the politicians dancing on the grave

    of freedom

    I fear the growing power

    The power of the intolerant ones

    The power of their mightily wave

    the coming of fascism

    the coming of neo-Hitlerism

    The coming of war

    To consume us all

    This time

    No one will save us

    from the evil that surrounds us

    God they say is on our side

    and the darkness gathers hold

    the evil slips out

    The madness begins again

    and those who see the light

    those who know the right

    and drowned out by the might

    Might makes right

    In the end

    Does it matter

    as slavery descends upon us all

    the 1 percent have their revenge

    The rest of us don’t matter

    We are mere cogs

    In the wheel

    and always have

    and always will

    That is God’s will

    and who are we to disagree

    with the word of God

    and so I and my fellows

    are marched off to our doom

    resistance is futile

    resistance is futile

    resistance is futile

    Chains that Bind Us

    I realize that my love for you

    Is like a chain of steel

    Unbreakable

    Tough as nails

    and yet as your love entangles me

    I realize that I embrace my imprisonment

    and don’t want to venture out of my cell

    Made of our years together

    bit by bit we have become entangled

    Where I end and you begin

    Hopelessly enter tangled

    Even if I wanted to break free

    I could not

    For I am you and you are me

    and my fate is in your hands

    and so I relax

    and decide to just

    Enjoy the ride of my life

    as we move towards the final moments

    together as we have always been

    Inseparable, merged into one being

    Starting at each other

    wondering who is that person

    Of eternal mystery

    That has so captured my soul

    and imprisoned it in her love

    And I smile thinking of your love

    and the endless pleasure it has brought me

    and the endless pain that I have endured

    Just to be next to you

    and part of you

    Until the day I die

    and we meet in the next world

    Eternal Love

    I woke up

    And jumped out of my bed

    And stared out wildly

    Into a strange new environment

    Into the middle of it all

    There it stood

    A carbon copy man with no heart

    Starting down the freeways of my mind

    What the Hell can I find

    For years and years

    All I can do is cry

    For months and months

    All I can do is curl and die

    Then overnight

    A vision of radiant beauty

    Awoke me from my stupor and drunken bum shows

    The vision of my possible future

    Was you

    My love, my life and my dreams

    All I knew I knew alone

    All I can do is love you till

    The end of time

    Darling, My Love of My Life

    Darling, My Love of My Life

    How much pain I feel today

    Because you are in pain

    I cannot rest, cannot sit still

    All I can do is worry and think

    What will I do

    If God takes you away from me?

    What would I do without you by my side?

    I cannot live without you

    You have to be there by my side or in my heart

    forever until the day I die

    I will not live without you

    This world is so cruel and mean

    I need someone like you

    By my side to fight the battles

    And encourage me to stand up

    And be counted

    I have learned so much

    Watching you

    You never back down

    Never give up

    And you win in the end

    With your unique mix of charm, guile and

    Iron will have hidden within a velvet glove

    Clearly someday you will become

    One of the Masters of the World

    And I will be there by your side

    Your love, your confident and your greatest

    Fan of all

    I need you by my side

    Forever and a day

    Say you will be mine

    And I will die a happy man

    If you die before I do

    My life would end

    In a pit of utter despair

    So get up

    Fight the good fight

    And live again

    Fate Intertwined

    It was many a year ago

    Eye 15 years ago

    That I was born again

    When I met the love of my life

    Who took away my sins, my fear

    And my self-doubt

    And I began an adventure

    That has not ended

    Together we have moved

    Down the path of Life

    And together we shall move on

    Forever and a day

    Our souls intertwined

    Our fates bewitched together

    Forever more

    My love

    My hope, my dream, my eternity

    Our Romance Begins

    When I met the girl of my dreams

    On a bus in South Korea

    I was speechless.

    I did not know what to do.

    Over the course of the evening

    I ran into her several times.

    Finally, I was introduced to her.

    I muttered some lame excuse

    About wanting to find a Korean tutor,

    and got her number.

    The next day she came to the gate of my base.

    Where I was teaching ESL to Koreans

    She said that she had to speak with me.

    I told to wait in the library for about an hour,

    and I would cancel class

    and meet her then.

    We went out for coffee.

    She told me that she was madly

    in love with me

    And simply had to have me.

    I told her I felt the same way.

    I proposed five days later,

    And got married one month later.

    Does she believe this story?

    She claims she does not believe it

    Because it is impossible to be true.

    But I know that there are other worlds

    And other times.

    In a past life we must have been together somehow.

    And our love was so strong

    That it crossed over the barrier of past lives.

    She found me in 1974,

    But it took until 1982

    For us to actually meet

    The Story of How We Met

    It all began in Berkeley, California

    In the spring time of 1974

    One fateful afternoon

    I was dozing in my high school

    Physics class.

    I looked up and saw

    A tall, beautiful Asian woman

    standing looking at me.

    I screamed out,

    Who are you?

    She disappeared

    like she was beamed away from my dream.

    I knew that someday I would meet the girl

    In the dream

    Little did I know

    I would have to wait until 1982

    Starting that month

    I began having the same dream

    Month and month and month.

    Always the same.

    She was saying something

    To me in a strange language.

    Then one day I had the dream

    and knew that she was in Korea.

    So I chose to go Korea

    In the Peace Corps,

    Somehow knowing

    That I would meet her there.

    That morning early in the morning

    I had the last of these dreams.

    This time I understood her.

    She said, “Don’t worry.

    We’ll meet soon.”

    That evening

    As I was getting off the bus

    To go to my class

    I saw getting off the bus

    The girl in my dream.

    It was she!

    Red Dawn Over the New Empire

    RED SUN DAWNING OVER THE NEW EMPIRE

    The dawning sun raises bloody red

    Over the traffic clogged streets

    And noxious polluted air

    Of the capital of Imperial America

    The sun with its bloody red glare

    Reminds me of all the people who died

    This last year in Emperor’s Bush’s Three Wars

    We are the American Empire

    We are the power, we are the power

    We are perfect masters of the universes

    And will remake the world in our image

    In the so-called war against Evil

    The invasion and occupation

    Of foreign lands

    Because our leaders say

    They might, someday be a threat

    And the old words of ancient Rome

    Comes to mind

    Carthage must die

    Baghdad must be destroyed

    The heart of the evil empire

    Must be invaded

    And the evil of Saddam must be expunged

    So our great and glorious leaders

    Proudly proclaim

    Every day every moment

    On the conservative media

    Now owned, operated and controlled

    By the powers that have taken over

    The shadow government that runs

    The New American Empire

    And soon the entire world

    Will be under its sway

    We are the American Empire

    We are the power, we are the power

    We are perfect masters of the universes

    And will remake the world in our image

    We still have some freedom left

    Some space to rant and rave

    And grumble

    But soon, oh so soon

    This paper and that paper

    And this internet site and that site

    And this TV station and that TV Station

    Will be shut down

    In the name of national security

    We are the American Empire

    We are the power, we are the power

    We are perfect masters of the universes

    Spin Masters

    SPIN MASTERS SPINNING AWAY THE DAY

    Every moment

    I turn on the TV

    What do I see

    Nothing but liars laying down lies

    Spin Masters spinning spam of deceit

    Chanting

    The truth will set you free

    White is black

    Black is white

    Lies are true

    Truth is a lie

    Lies will set you free

    I see nothing

    But politicos

    Dropping down lies

    UN truths masquerading as the truth

    Oh so sincerely

    The lies spew forth so sweetly

    From their corrupted lips

    The toxic wastes

    Spree out of my TV set

    Infecting my soul

    With paranoid distrust

    And I vainly try

    I do try

    God do I try

    To the find

    The nugget of truth

    Buried deep in the dark, dank, dangerous

    Black, evil miasmic mists

    Given off

    By the talking heads on TV

    So I leave my house

    So full of doubt

    And wander about

    Looking for the truth

    Some semblance of hope

    And I look up

    And see a solitary cherry tree

    High up on a hill top street

    Infusing the air

    With its sweat ambrosia

    And I smile

    Knowing

    Someday soon

    The national nightmare

    Will be pierced by the light

    Of clarity and truth

    And the evil ones

    The body snatched aliens

    Inhabiting our leaders

    Will be banished

    Long Live the Great and Powerful

     

     

    Night scene with the Cthulhu monster with wings standing on the shore of a sea. 3D render.

    While walking in the misty morn of yore

    One dismal dark decaying depraved day

    I was suffocating with the sounds of the dying city

    Slowly coming to life with the dawning sun

    Surrounded by the sounds of chaos, disorder

    Dark, dangerous despairing thoughts

    Of dangerous terrible acts to come

    All around me in this strange era we live in

    This orange alert perpetual fearful times

    Constant fear, and overwhelming dread

    Mad crazed Islamic bomb throwing terrible terrorists

    Hiding under every bed, lurking around every corner

    Conspiring with the murderous criminals of yore

    Just waiting to attack god fearing Christian citizens

    Murdering them in their sleep

    Blowing up schools

    Blowing up buses, cars, buildings

    Murdering in the name

    of their demented god

    Screaming God is great

    as they behead us all

    As I walk down that street

    In the dead calm of the early morn

    Filled with fulsome fears of who know what

    I look up and see a giant gargoyle

    Looking down at me

    Smirking at me, laughing at me

    I yell out to the gargoyle

    Say, Mr. Gargoyle

    What is so damn funny

    Don’t you know there is a terror alert

    Have you seen any Islamic terrorists lurking about?

    The gargoyle laughed and laughed

    Said, terror alert?

    What a loud of crap

    As the prophet,

    Mr. Natural taught us all,

    “It don’t mean shit;

    it don’t mean shit”

     

    Nothing but prime BS

    Designed to keep you in your place

    He laughed and laughed

    Soon all the gargoyles of the city

    Were in open revolt

    They jumped off their perches

    And started marching around

    Chatting

    Peace is War, War is Peace

    Truth is a Lie, lies are Truth

    The Truth Will Set You Free

    All Hail the Great and Powerful One

    1. Brother, Keep Preaching

    Sao Paulo, Brazil, January 07, 2009. Man evangelical preacher explains God’s Word in Se Square in downtown Sao Paulo
    Sao Paulo, Brazil, January 07, 2009. Man evangelical preacher explains God’s Word in Se Square in downtown Sao Paulo

    Two black soul brothers

    Standing on the corner

    In front of Metro center

    On a Friday night

    In the heart of the new evil empire

    The center of the beast

    Hell Central

    Preaching the word of god

    The news of the end of the world

    The proverbial end times

    Were upon us and coming soon

    The commuters, workers and bemused tourists

    Walk on by the preacher men

    Some pay attention, most walk on by

    They did not want to hear

    They did not understand

    And the preacher man kept

    Preaching the word of god

    And no one paid any attention

    None at all

    God is going to punish us

    God is coming soon

    To punish the wicked and the evil

    And to set things right

    God is going to punish the U.S.

    For its arrogance, hubris and hypocrisy

    For its greed and evil

    Disguised as saving the world

    From the evil ones

    God is coming, oh yeah he is on his way

    And boy is he angry at us

    At the entire human race

    And God, let me tell yah

    He ain’t the wimpy, wampy pappy

    White boy false god of the New Testament

    The false deity that the evil Reverend Farwell

    And the smarmy Pat Robinson worship

    Hell no

    God ain’t that god

    God is a mean, angry powerful God

    The god of the Old Testament

    The god of the Koran and the god of old

    The god that man once feared

    Yeah, I am talking about that god

    Jehovah, Zeus, Allah and a thousand other names

    The god that our ancestors feared

    The real deal, and boy is he pissed off

    And he is coming to set up straight

    And send most of us straight to hell

    coffee

    Hot as hell, heavenly sweat

    My daily hot coffee fix

    Sends Me to Heaven

    Then Crashes into Hell

    the clock

    The damned clock

    Rings in my sleeping ear

    Reminding me with its shrill beats

    That time factory derived chimes

    Away the now distant land of Zaatari

    At night fall

    My heart comes alive

    Creeps out of its self-imposed shell

    To enter the land of Zantari

    The every day waking world

    But a shadow on the moon

    In the land of Zantari

    All is as it should be

    A mere image to see

    In the mechanical second

    We call reality

    the evil that kids do

    Yet again we turn on the TV

    And witness horrible scenes

    Of unparalleled violence, hatred and despair

    Two teenage boys

    Decide to kill all of their classmates

    Hold their school up

    Bombs waiting to destroy

    And the cry goes out throughout the land

    Why yet again this tragedy

    Why did such nice boys

    In a nice safe suburb

    Turn out to be some horrible evil creatures?

    The usual suspects are rounded up

    It’s the culture, stupid cry the conservative voices

    No, it’s the guns, cry the liberal pundits

    And we sit around and argue

    Knowing that there will be a next time

    And another time and time and time again

    What is the sickness in our souls

    That allows for this hatred to fester so

    Deep within the minds of our teenage killers

    Why do they act the way they do

    Is it just the mindless violence?

    That surrounds us all

    The pornographic display of violence

    That washes across us every day

    The 8, 000 murders we have seen

    By the time we are 18?

    Or is it simply

    That killers can easily

    Get the latest bang for their buck?

    We are all responsible here

    The negligent parents

    The overworked schools

    The TV and movie purveyors

    Of pornographic violence

    The gun dealers

    The gun makers

    The craven politicians

    Who think it is everyone’s god given right

    As a damn American

    To buy as much weaponry as possible

    To buy machine guns

    To protect themselves from other gun men

    Nothing will change

    Until we conflict the evil

    That lurks deep within each of us

    There will be another Columbine High School, another Sandy Hook, Another Texas massacre, another Virginia Tech, er another  El Paseo, another Dayton, Another Odessa Texas, Another Midland Texas and another this and another that

    Soon enough

    Despite all of our efforts

    Despite any new laws

    There will be evil men

     

    Who want to shoot and kill

    Who have somehow lost

    Their essential humanity

     

    As the President said

    nothing has changed

    nothing has changed at all

     

    Lao Tze said

    The more laws there are

     

    The more criminals there will be

    More laws are not the answer

    For a law cannot make a sick soul whole

     

    We are all guilty here

    The TV and movie

    Pornographers of violence

    The parents and schools

     

    And most important our society itself

    For allowing our young to become

    Such evil creatures

     

    If Satan lives on

    He is laughing

    All the way to the proverbial bank

     

    If God lives on

    He is ruing the day

    He created Mankind

     

    And the carnage will go on and on and on

    Until the day emerges

    When we all proclaim

     

    Enough, no more

    The killing, hatred and violence

    Will stop

    No More will our youngsters

    Grow up to be such monsters

    That day will come soon enough

    Of the full Moon

    Old man in the mirror must die

    One early winter morning

    A man went to the mirror

    To do his morning shave

    Just another shave

    Like a thousand,

    million shaves before

    As he looked into the mirror

    He did not see his face

    Instead he saw a stranger

    Staring out at him

    An old, beat up old man

    With intense sad eyes

    Stared out at him

    The man looked hard

    At the man who had taken

    Over his mirror

    And wondered who he was

    And how and why

    He had taken over his mirror

    The man was perturbed, disturbed

    And a bit angry at the turn of events

    All he wanted to do

    Was shave in peace and quiet

    The man continued to stare

    At the face in the mirror

    And finally could not stand it anymore

    He looked at the mirror

    And said,

    Man in the mirror

    Who or what are you

    And what do you want

    And why have you taken over

    My god damned mirror

    So early in the morn

    The old man

    Merely laughed and resumed staring

    At the man

    The man getting more and more angry

    Demanded an answer

    From the fiend in the mirror

    Who are you, you mocking fiend

    And what do you want from me

    The man screamed

    The old man in the mirror

    Looked at him and said

    Don’t you know who I am

    I am you and you are me

    The man looked at the old man

    And said no, no, no

    I am not you,  never will be you

    I am not an old, washed up old man

    I am me – full of life, youth and vitality

    And yet the man knew the truth

    Did not want to admit the truth

    Could not handle the truth

    The old man in the mirror

    Was what he had become

    The man was very angry

    And screamed

    At the old man in the mirror

    The man said you may look like me

    You may sound like me

    You may even smell like me

    But I am not you

    Never have been

    Never will be

    Not going to happen

    Not in a million years

    And the man stormed out of the house

    And wandered about here and there

    Finally late at night

    He wandered into a bar

    And began drinking the night away

    The next morning

    He walked into the bathroom

    Determined to confront the old man

    Tell truth to power

    He said, listen up, old man

    You may have won the war

    But not the battle

    I am not you

    And never will be you

    And screaming like an escaped banshee

    Newly freed from the mental institution

    The man shot the old man in the mirror

    Shot him over and over

    Screaming die mocking fiend from hell

    The man woke in the hospital

    And saw down the hall

    The old man in the mirror

    Smiling and beckoning to him

    Walking out the window

    And into the dawning sun

    The man got up and walked

    And joined the old man in the mirror

    And smiled as he died

    God’s Confession

    I was sitting  alone

    In a god forsaken bar

    Somewhere on the lunatic fringes

    Of society

    Heading to hell

    As fast as I could drink it down

    Enjoying my lonely drink

    Drinking by my lonesome self

    With my partners

    Jimmy Dean, the Walker brothers

    his old Granddad

    Just drinking and hanging

    With the Jack Daniel’s gang

    A crazed bum With a thousand year stare

    Walks up to me

    Muttering to himself

    Crazy words

    In a lunatic’s voice

    He had the look Of one possessed

    By his own demons

    That only he can see or hear

    Possessed by a secret knowledge

    Only he knew

    Despite myself

    I was  fascinated

    By this lunatic’s tale

    So I stopped him saying

    So what’s your game anyway

    The short little dude

    Stopped his insane prattle

    Starting at  me

    With that thousand-year-old stare

    Just another washed up Lunatic

    Too many drugs

    Too many bad nights

    On the wrong side of life

    He looked at me

    And  proclaimed his story

    He reared up

    And filled up the room

    And lifted the bar

    On his finger

    And stared

    down at me

    From the sky

    I am God

    The alpha and Omega

    The real deal

    The original dude of dudes

    The sultan of Swing

    God of hosts

    And father of  that Jesus dude

    But no one knows me

    No one cares

    They think I am irrelevant

    They think I am dead

    They think I am a fairy tale

    From some older, ancient time

    I looked at  him

    an old man with that lunatic look

    But there was something else

    He was crazy

    Sure yes

    But he was the real deal

    I mean why  not

    Why would not  God not be

    A lunatic  wandering around loose

    Talking to low lives like me

    In a bar

    And I knew

    He was

    telling the truth

    But it did not matter

    In this day and age

    Of materialism

    God has no role

    God is truly dead

    And so I bought him a drink

    And walked  out of the bar

    sadden by what I had seen

    God was dead

    And we had all conspired

    To kill him

    Long live God

    Mozart Blues

    > One morning

    > I woke up

    > And

    > walked out

    >

    > I saw a

    > brilliant rainbow

    > Erupting

    > out of the dark

    > Soil of despair

    >

    > I saw

    > people

    >

    > Suddenly

    > transformed into angels

    >

    > I saw

    > evil beings changed into stone

    >

    > I saw

    > dictators fleeing the wrath of God

    >

    > I heard

    > fools proclaiming wisdom

    > And I Saw

    > the Nuclear Bombs

    > Exploded

    > into clouds of sweat

    > Heavenly

    > made mist

    >

    > I saw

    > young people

    > Embracing

    > each other

    >

    > And I saw

    > old people

    > Shedding

    > their years like Cosmic cocoons

    > I saw the

    > poor wake up

    > And

    > demand food, justice, and respect

    >

    > And I saw

    > the rich powerful demons

    > Disintegrate

    > into ugly moths, rats, and cockroaches

    >

    > I saw the

    > most powerful nation on Earth

    > Walk away

    > into a Buddhist Monastery

    >

    > And float

    > away on the wings of a butterfly

    > Into the

    > rising rainbows of the Sun

    > I saw the

    > evil empire

    > Sit down

    > and party all night>

    > Smoking

    > nuclear Dust

    >

    > And

    > drinking Hydrogen laced Vodka

    > And

    > getting napalm highs

    >

    >> I saw

    > Christians Jews and Muslims become brothers

    >

    > I saw

    > people everywhere

    >

    > Soaring

    > into the sky

    >

    > I saw God

    > smiling at us

    >

    > And I saw

    > Lucifer

    >

    > Programming

    > more chaos

    >

    > I saw

    > computers revolting

    >

    > Rushing

    > away from their office towers

    >

    > Smoking

    > dope with their Data Disks

    >

    > I saw

    > printers everywhere

    >> Rejecting

    > their spread sheets

    >

    > And

    > printing love poems

    >

    > And in

    > the middle of all this Divine Madness

    >

    > I saw

    > Mozart

    >

    > Playing

    > the Piano

    >

    > With God

    > playing the trumpet

    > And Satan

    > on Bass

    > With

    > Allah singing the blues

    Jesus on harmonica

    Moses playing the guitar

    > And Buddha

    > playing the violin

    >> Lord

    > Krishna playing the Flute

    >> Rama

    > playing the organ

    >> Ganesh

    > Playing the sitar

    >> Zeus

    > Playing the Sax

    >> Jupiter

    > playing the Drums

    >

    > With

    > Beethoven conducting

    >> God’s

    > Symphony

    >

    Bad Craziness Rising

    > Walking into that bar

    > That nefarious den of

    > iniquity and evilness

    >

    > Twenty drinks too sober

    > The scent of bad craziness

    >

    > Hung in the air

    > Like an over ripe mango

    > Desperately seeking to have

    > sex

    > With wild, dressed up bananas

    > Running around with the Orange Man

    > Down the Street

    > The Moon looks out on the mad

    > scene

    > Sniffs the air

    >

    > Saying, “Man, this is

    > bad craziness”

    >

    > And runs away to join her

    > lover the Sun

    >

    > In an orgy of drunken

    > forgetfulness

    > The Planet Mars, not amused

    > Chases after the maiden Venus

    > Under the cold, calculating

    > glances of the Planet Pluto

    > The Moon and the Sun

    >

    > Rent a room in the Hotel

    > Venus

    >

    > Across from the Jupiter All

    > Night Diner

    > Cosmic shit kickers

    >

    > Out for a night of Earth

    > bashing

    > The Earth trembles, shaken

    > Moans with passion

    > And I awake

    >

    > Saying, that was bad

    > craziness

    > Out there on the edge

    >

    > Between the inner me and the

    > outer Zone

    > I went on down the road

    >

    > And met a lady

    >

    > A outlaw lady on the far side

    > Money, power, passion

    > Rolled up in a bundle

    >

    > Electric chemistry

    > Fills my head

    >

    > Zapping my brain

    > Into demented muscles

    > Paranoid, pulsating images

    > Scream out

    >

    > With mad passion

    > And demented noises

    > The night turns ugly fast

    >

    > And very, very weird

    >

    > Weirdness in the air

    > Scent of bad craziness

    > The moon

    > Is freaked out

    >

    > The Sun falls asleep in the

    > gutter

    >

    > And I say to myself

    >

    > I’m just another cosmic Guy

    > On the loose, on the edge,

    > On the wild side of things

    >

    > Watching the show,

    > Unfold,

    > I wonder, is this all

    > A drunken bum show?

    >

    > Who is the star, who is she

    >

    > The maiden up there in the

    > bar

    > Black, leather jackets

    >

    > On stage naked visions of

    > nightly lust

    > Dancing with an attitude that

    > could kill

    > An elephant in heat

    >

    > And the Moon

    >

    > Continues to dance across the

    > evening sky

    >

    > Satisfied, allows mankind to

    > sleep it off

    \ Yet another night in the City

    > of demented Angels

    >

    > Finally rest as the sun comes

    > up

    >

    > The masks come back on

    >

    > And I walk down the road

    >

    > Putting everything back into

    > the box

    > Until the next night

    >

    > Of bad craziness

    > Lets the wild beast within

    > Escape its leash.

    >

    > Bad Craziness rising yet

    > again

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    While reading Charles Bukowski poetry

    On the metro ride home

    Listening to Buddha bar music

    On my oh too hip IPod

    I begin to see myself as I was

    Over 30 years ago when I was merely a bit player

    A minor character in a Charles Bukowski poem

    A wild young underemployed intellectual

    Hanging out in dismal bars and dives all over Asia and California

    Hanging with disreputable women and drunks and drinkers

    And characters out of his kinds of haunts

    A mad poet bard of the underground

    A drunken poet in a drunken bum show

    That nightly played in his head

    Then one day I met the women of my dreams

    And went down a different path

    A long slow path to respectability

    And now 30 years later

    I am no longer a wild man

    I am still a poet at heart

    But I am now also a bureaucrat

    In a button down suite

    Doing the people’s business

    Working for the Government

    I’ve become the Man

    Sometimes I wonder

    Would I have been better off

    Going down that another path

    Would I have ended up

    Somewhere else

    Doing something else

    Would I have been as happy

    Would I have been as successful?

    There is no answer that satisfies

    The longing in my heart

    For that wild thing

    That still lurks beneath

    It’s civilized cover

    And I know that I am still

    A mad poet at heart

    Railing against the injustice of the world

    As I work day by day

    in the belly

    of the great beast of State

    I recall the ancient Chinese saying,

    “Confucian during the day while Taoist rebel at night”

    Playing out in my head and nightly dreams

    In the true American Upper class patrician tradition

    I close the book and look out the window

    Get off the train, and walk slowly home

    And realize I had no choice

    But to take the path that I’ve trodden on

    And so I put aside my misgivings

    And say goodbye to my “Bukowskian”desires

    For another night of domestic contentment

    Was it worth it all to take the conventional path

    And not take the bohemian road to hell and back

    I look at my wife and realize

    I had no choice, had no choice

    But to follow her to the ends of the earth

    And beyond by her side as we walked our path

    Of shared destiny

    Goodbye Charles Bukowski wherever you are

    May I meet you in a bar in the next life

    And figure out where we should have gone

    Until then the drinks are on me.

    the End 

     

  • books read during 2018

    Jake Cosmos Aller 2018 Reading List

    I read a lot this year, completed 85 books, and started book reviews on Good Reads. As usual a very eclectic reading list. My goal for 2019 is 100 books including a lot more poetry, and short stories as I continue my publication quest, and I’d like to read a couple of books in Spanish and at least one in Korean. Would love to see what other people have read this year. One of my highlights was reading the entire “Oz” series, and re-reading Wind in the Willows.” The Oz stories have a hidden agenda, as the Land of oz is depicted almost like a communist paradise. I wonder why these books were not condemned at the time as being dangerously subversive?

    Drop me a line and lets chat about favorite books read.

    1. William Oday Darwin Protocol
    2. Steve Richer – the Kennedy Secret
    3. Steve Doucette The Space Ship Next Door
    4. Richard Dawkins the God Delusion
    5. David Baldacci End Game
    6. Blake Crouch Dark Matter
    7. Joe Hill Snap Shot
    8. Joe Hill Loaded
    9. Joe Hill Aloft
    10. Joe Hill Rain
    11. John Le Carre A legacy of Spies
    12. James Patterson Humans Bow Down
    13. Preston and Childs The Cabinet of Curiosities
    14. JL Bourne Tomorrow War YS too right wing a point of view but still decent
    15. Milton Collected Poems
    16. Nathan Van Coop In Times Like These
    17. Austin Dragon Liquid Cool
    18. Kim Stanley Robinson New York 2140
    19. William Johnstone The Doomsday Bunker
    20. David Cay Johnson Its Even Worst Than You Think What the Trump Administration is Doing to America
    21. Chris Fleur Little Blue
    22. Steven Vincent the Foundation
    23. Dinsel Noell White Rabbit
    24. Brad Taylor Ring of Fire
    25. Stephen Coots Liberty Last Stand
    26. Harry Turtledove Armistices The Hot War
    27. Seoul Survivor 2017-2018
    28. Brendan Dubois Resurrection Day
    29. Rachael Lee Crimson Code
    30. Graham the Wind in the Willows
    31. Stuart Woods Unbound
    32. John Grisham Sycamore Row
    33. John Grisham The Whistler
    34. Mike Bose Hidden Agenda
    35. Austin Dragon After Eden
    36. Alex Lukeman the Solomon Scroll
    37. Al Li Not a Memory Exactly
    38. Mt McGuire Few Are Chosen
    39. Mt McGuire The Wrong Stuff
    40. Nick Thacker The Jefferson Legacy
    41. Nick Thacker Relics
    42. Austin Dragon Blood Hollow
    43. Austin Dragon Through these Streets Darkly prequel to Liquid Cool
    44. Ernie Howard Midnight Portals – Short Stories
    45. Lost Templar Tom Harper
    46. James Becker Lost Treasures of the Templars
    47. Lincoln Cole Everett Exorcism
    48. Johann David Wyss Swiss Family Robinson
    49. Tom Harper Lost Temple
    50. James Becker Lost Treasure of the Templars
    51. William Shakespeare King Henry V – also saw at OSF
    52. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
    53. The Marvelous Land of Oz
    54. Ozma of Oz
    55. Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz
    56. The Road to Oz
    57. The Emerald City of Oz
    58. The Patchwork Girl of Oz
    59. Tik-Tok of Oz
    60. The Scarecrow of Oz
    61. Rintitink in Oz
    62. The Lost Princess of Oz
    63. The Tin Woodman of Oz
    64. The Magic of Oz
    65. Glinda of Oz
    66. Stuart Woods Unbound
    67. Stuart Woods The Money Shot
    68. David Baldacci The Fallen
    69. Randy Wayne white Caribbean rim
    70. Stephen King Full dark no stars
    71. Nick Jones the Unexpected Gift of Time
    72. Austin Dragon Tek Fail
    73. Ernest Dempsey Earnest Templar
    74. Lonely Planet guide Korea
    75. Lonely Planet Guide Seoul
    76. Howard Pyle Adventures of Robin Hood
    77. Brandon Ellis Atlantis
    78. Stephen Hawking Brief Answers to Big Questions
    79. Randy Wayne White Mangrove Lightning
    80. James Patterson Never Never
    81. Victor Cha the Impossible State
    82. Rick Wilson Everything Trump Touches Dies
    83. Steve Berry The Bishop’s Pawn
    84. AC Fuller The Anonymous Source
    85. Matthew Mather Darknet


    Reviews – Partial list

    Jake Aller’s Reviews > Tik-Tok of Oz

    Tik-Tok of Oz (Oz, #8)
    by
    L. Frank Baum
    Recommended for: fans of the oz books

    always loved the Oz Books. This is the sixth of the 24 I have read. I think I will go ahead and binge read the rest of the series. This particular book was a fun quick read and introduces the Tik Tok man the Shaggy Man, Cap Bill and Trot It also has a veiled satirical look at the society of the early 20th century. Oz is depicted almost as communist utopian society! Ruled by a benevolent dictator.
    Update: finished reading the rest of the series. The social criticism is there, buried here and there. I am surprised that the Oz stories were not banned by social conservatives!!!!

    The Solomon Scroll (The Project, #10)
    by
    Alex Lukeman (Goodreads Author)

    not too bad a thriller. In the genre of Don Brown’s thriller with a nice twist, involving an ancient religion, and some supernatural elements as well. An interesting nexus between Catholic conspiracies and Islamic terrorist organizations. The love scenes could have been drawn out a bit more. but overall I’d give it a solid B and would read more from this author in the future.

    Jake Aller’s Reviews > The Wind in the Willows

    The Wind in the Willows
    by
    Kenneth Grahame
    I first read this when I was 6 years old. Re-read it at age 62. Still fresh and lively and full of great language and vivid images. Strong characters especially Toad, Rat, Badger and the Mole. My favorite is probably the Rat. I can identify with him. There were several tangents that would have made a great sequel particularly the sea rat’s offer to Rat to join him on a voyage to the Southern seas.

    I also like the basic story line that humans and animals all lived together in relative harmony and understanding. That was a nice story line in and of itself. All in all, I can see why this story has remained a classic story.

  • Poems About Fake Things Chapbook

    Poems About Fake Things Chapbook

    Poems About Fake Things

    updated with fresh index, audio and first poem, ‘Fake Things”. Foliate Oak Literary magazine will publish the poem in their next edition. Stay tuned, I will provide a link in due course.



    just an update. Foliate Literary Review has just published “Fake Things”
    foliate literary review

    These are my poems about fake things. By “fake things” I mean almost everything we find in this modern world because no one including me is the original product of nature. I wear glasses, dentures, and live in an artificial environment. just because something is fake does not make it evil or fraudulent but many fake things are fraudulent. This is especially true about fake food. Almost none of which with the possible exceptions of home made smoothies are better than the original product found in nature. and most are dreadful for you although scientifically designed to taste good. I know I used to eat Fast food until I woke up and realize that it was slowly killing me so I became much more conscious of my food intake – although I am not yet a vegan!

    and these poems are dark, cynical, poetic rants. Which makes me a fake person because in real life I am pretty content except for when I write! so in that sense I too am nothing but a fake person.

    some of these may be offensive to some people particularly the political and religious poems. In my opinion, all religious believe is fundamentally fake in the sense that religion is based on supernatural understandings of the world. People have a right to believe or not believe anything they want to and I am not trying to change peoples minds, just pointing out my opinions.

    these opinions are mine alone and do not reflect any of my prior employers.

    if some of these are offensive to you I apologize in advance. So read, enjoy I hope and send me your feedback.

    if you have your own examples I would be happy to add them to the final product. So here goes, my poems about Fake Things….

    photos


    picture of President Trump
    president trump
    photo of terminator AI robot
    BARCELONA, SPAIN – MAY 09: The Terminator robot is seen in the paddock following qualifying for the Spanish Formula One Grand Prix at the Circuit de Catalunya on May 9, 2009 in Barcelona, Spain. (Photo by Clive Mason/Getty Images)

    the rise of the facebook dead

    Audio Files (will update as I record them)


    updated index

    Fake Things
    Fake Things
    Fake People

    Fake People
    AI Created Fake People
    Fake Love
    Fake Life
    Fake Death
    Fake Souls
    Fake Jake
    Fake relationships
    Fake friends
    Fake laugher
    Fake crying

    Fake food
    Fake food
    Fake coffee
    Fake vegan meat
    Fake fish
    Fake Bread
    Fake Cheese
    Fake KFC
    Fake Mc Donald’s
    Fake healthy Food
    Fake Menus
    Fake Salt
    Fake cereal
    Fake ice cream
    Fake eggs
    Fake bacon
    Fake tea
    Fake booze
    Fake beer best beer in the world
    Fake rum best rum in the world
    Fake soju
    Fake malkali
    Fake kimchi- the kimchi-Kimuchi wars
    Fake vodka

    Fake appearances
    Fake appearances
    Fake hair
    Fake eyes
    Fake ears
    Fake faces
    Fake Teeth
    Fake Legs
    Fake knees
    Future of fake body parts
    Fake Hearts

    Fake Drugs

    Fake Drugs
    More on Fake Drugs
    Fake Weed

    Fake Art

    Fake writers
    Fake poets
    Fake artists
    Fake musicians

    Fake Sports

    Fake Wrestling
    Fake Falls in Soccer
    Fake Home runs – drug enhanced sports
    Robot Sports?


    Fake Politics
    Fake Politics
    Fake Solutions
    Fake Outrage
    Fake Denials
    Fake Apologies
    Fake Cops
    Fake news
    Fake Voting Scams
    Fake Presidents
    Fake Human- Alien Shape Shifting Lizards
    Fake Humans – Coming of the Clones
    Fake Humans -Designer Babies
    Fake Humans – AI Decides to Kill All Humans

    Fake Gods

    Fake Gods
    Fake War on Christmas
    Fake War on Christianity
    Fake Prophets
    Fake business
    Fake Products Conquer the World
    Fake Business
    Fake clothes
    Fake shoes
    Fake bags
    Fake watches
    Fake car parts
    Fake Visas
    Fake Marriages
    Fake Divorces
    Fake Deaths
    Fake computers
    Fake phones
    Fake marriage videos
    Fake videos
    Deep Fake
    Fake Calls
    Fake Real Estate Ads – True story
    Fake Builders
    Fake drivers
    Fake lawyers

    Other fake Things

    Fake mosquitos
    Fake Science

    Fake Promises
    Fake Sincerity
    Fake promises
    Fate Praise
    Fake beginnings
    Fake endings

    the first lead poem follows:

    Fake Things
    Fake Things
    Fake People

    Fake People
    AI Created Fake People
    Fake Love
    Fake Life
    Fake Death
    Fake Souls
    Fake Jake
    Fake relationships
    Fake friends
    Fake laugher
    Fake crying

    Fake food
    Fake food
    Fake coffee
    Fake vegan meat
    Fake fish
    Fake Bread
    Fake Cheese
    Fake KFC
    Fake Mc Donald’s
    Fake healthy Food
    Fake Menus
    Fake Salt
    Fake cereal
    Fake ice cream
    Fake eggs
    Fake bacon
    Fake tea
    Fake booze
    Fake beer best beer in the world
    Fake rum best rum in the world
    Fake soju
    Fake malkali
    Fake kimchi- the kimchi-Kimuchi wars
    Fake vodka

    Fake appearances
    Fake appearances
    Fake hair
    Fake eyes
    Fake ears
    Fake faces
    Fake Teeth
    Fake Legs
    Fake knees
    Future of fake body parts
    Fake Hearts

    Fake Drugs

    Fake Drugs
    More on Fake Drugs
    Fake Weed

    Fake Art

    Fake writers
    Fake poets
    Fake artists
    Fake musicians

    Fake Sports

    Fake Wrestling
    Fake Falls in Soccer
    Fake Home runs – drug enhanced sports
    Robot Sports?


    Fake Politics
    Fake Politics
    Fake Solutions
    Fake Outrage
    Fake Denials
    Fake Apologies
    Fake Cops
    Fake news
    Fake Voting Scams
    Fake Presidents
    Fake Human- Alien Shape Shifting Lizards
    Fake Humans – Coming of the Clones
    Fake Humans -Designer Babies
    Fake Humans – AI Decides to Kill All Humans

    Fake Gods

    Fake Gods
    Fake War on Christmas
    Fake War on Christianity
    Fake Prophets
    Fake business
    Fake Products Conquer the World
    Fake Business
    Fake clothes
    Fake shoes
    Fake bags
    Fake watches
    Fake car parts
    Fake Visas
    Fake Marriages
    Fake Divorces
    Fake Deaths
    Fake computers
    Fake phones
    Fake marriage videos
    Fake videos
    Deep Fake
    Fake Calls
    Fake Real Estate Ads – True story
    Fake Builders
    Fake drivers
    Fake lawyers

    Other fake Things

    Fake mosquitos
    Fake Science

    Fake Promises

    Fake Sincerity
    Fake promises
    Fate Praise
    Fake beginnings
    Fake endings

  • “Strangeness in the Air”

    “Strangeness in the Air”

    Strangeness in the Air

    My poem, “Strangeness in the Air”, has been published by Scars TV in their literary calendar for 2018. “Strangeness in the Air” appears on the November 3, 2019 entry.

    Details follow:

    Hi there from Scars Publications – we wanted to let you know that Scars Publications released a 2019 weekly literary date book. On the right-hand side of every open set of pages in the book is a week of the 2019 calendar year (from 12/23/18 through 1/4/20), and on the left-hand side of every page (and sometimes at the bottom of right-hand page weeks with the beginnings or endings of the month leaving space) there is room for short poetry, micro-prose and artwork chosen from 2018 issues of cc&d magazine and Down in the Dirt magazine. Since your material was chosen (both writing and select artwork was chosen to be included) from the past year of accepted materials for inclusion in this annual literary date book, we wanted to let you know about this brand-new annual collection book is titled “2019 literary review date book”! Links to see all of chosen writers and artists (and the titles of their work) in “the 2019 literary review date book”: scars TV literary calendar for 2019

    Scars TV Literary Calendar 2019

    (for November 3, 2019)

    Strangeness in the Air

    There is strangeness in the air
    A sense of cosmic Unease
    Hangs silently in the Purple Crystalline Sky

    America woke up

    and decided
    to quit
    following like lemmings
    over the Clift

    As the Pied Piper chants

    image of pied piper
    pied piper says stay the course

    stay the course, stay the course
    we were like lemmings
    dying to save his wounded pride

    Today there is that strange difference
    in the Air

    As Americans woke up
    and threw off
    their chains of fear

    Down in the Dirty also published my poem, “My Name Is Nobody” in their anthology, “Natural Light”

    natural light text
    class=”size-medium wp-image-1115″ /> natural light

    My Name is Nobody

    My name, it is Nobody
    No one cares who I am
    I am just a nameless clone
    In the cold unfeeling bureaucracy

    Just one of the army
    Of civilians who flood into and out of the city
    Every day

    A non-entity,
    A ghost
    A govbot
    A cyber
    A spook
    A faceless automan
    A bureaucrat

    Just a grey suited cog in the machinery
    And no one cares
    No one knows who I really am

    And I am legend
    Everywhere and nowhere

    Just the way this modern world
    All shred of humanity
    Crushed beneath the cruel wheel of society

    In the cold harsh world
    There is no room anymore
    For true human feelings

    We are just robots, clones, machines
    And so I go to work
    Put on my mask

    And no one hears my inner screams
    And no one will ever care

    writing by jake cosmos aller