The World According to Cosmos

  • cheating death other stories
  • travel writing
  • Home
    • more audio files available
  • travel log Korea and the World
    • Cats
    • computer poems
    • Journal of Expressive Writing Updates
    • more corona poems published
    • Reflections on Failure
    • Corona Ghosts
    • Raven Cage Publishes Poems
    • Poetic Rants Updated
    • ON THE ROAD PUBLISHED
    • corona virus revised
    • more corona virus poems
    • Chaos Published
    • Wearing a Mask Controversy
    • Encounters with God
    • Cosmos 2020 April Poetry Part Two
    • 45 Magazine Publishes u0026#8220;Shape of Historyu0026#8221;
    • I am Writing to Let You Know
    • Corona Virus is Not Godu0026#8217;s Punishment
    • Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part One
    • All I Know I Learned at BHS
    • every day I turn on the news published
    • Corona Virus Pandemic Thoughts
    • More Love Poems
    • More Short Cosmos Poems
    • Spill words Publishes Rambling Man
    • 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
    • Evil Computer Rants
    • cosmosu0026#8217;s 2019 play list
    • Snarling Cup of Coffee
    • poetry super highway free chapbook
  • publication updates
    • Ten New Poems
    • Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019
    • cosmic Haiku and other short poems
    • Guns KIll People
    • Another Mass Shooting to Start the Day
    • Duane Poetree Poems 2016-2019
    • April 2018 Poems
    • 2017 April Poems
    • April 2019 Poems
    • Down in the Dirt Updates
    • Vietnam Poems
    • Cosmos’s Excellent Vietnam Journeys
    • Cosmic Dreams and Nightmares
  • Friends
  • Client Portal

Log in

Category: dog poems

  • 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

    https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/April-Poetry-Madness-April-6-to-APril-12.mp3

    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 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

    FacebookTwitterDiggShare

    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

    By Patricia Smith

    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:

    • Big Old Clap Clap, by Lee Ellis
    • Long Walk Home, by Nicki Fitz-Gerald
    • Abstract with Twirling Sparklers, by Darin Rogers
    • Unwavering, by Martin Klein
    • Resolution Kid, by Yinka Shonibare

     

    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 Poem, April 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
    https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/October-Rains-1.mp3

    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.

     

     

     

    Share this:

    • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • More
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
    • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
    • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Print (Opens in new window) Print
    • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

    Like this:

    Like Loading…
    April 12, 2025
  • MAGA Freak-Out About Haitians Eating Cats and Dogs 

    MAGA Freak-Out About Haitians Eating Cats and Dogs 

    MAGA Freak-Out About Haitians Eating Cats and Dogs

    Why Trump?


     

     

     

    During the Trump-Haris debate, President Trump made racists comments about Haitian immigrants eating pets in Springfield, Ohio.  the Moderator fact checked him pointing out that the City Manager, Mayor and Police chief all denied that this was an actual thing. Nonetheless Trump, JD Vance and their cohorts in the MAGA movement have spent the last two weeks repeating these vile rumors.

    Co-pilot provided background information

    To provide accurate background information on recent comments by President Trump and JD Vance about Haitian immigrants eating dogs and cats in Springfield, Ohio, I’ll need to search for the most up-to-date and reliable sources. Let me gather that information for you.

    The comments you’re referring to were made recently and have caused significant controversy. Here’s a summary of the situation:

    On March 16, 2024, during a campaign rally in Dayton, Ohio, former President Donald Trump made claims about Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio. He stated Haitian immigrants were coming to Ohio in large numbers and suggested they were engaging in unusual practices, including eating dogs and cats.

    JD Vance, a Republican Senator from Ohio, later echoed and defended Trump’s comments in a social media post.

    These statements have been widely criticized by political opponents, fact-checkers, and immigrant advocacy groups as being inflammatory and not based on evidence.

    Local officials in Springfield, Ohio, have disputed these claims, stating that there is no evidence of such practices occurring in their community.

    The comments have sparked a broader debate about immigration rhetoric and its impact on communities.

    For direct sources and more detailed information, you can refer to the following links:

    NBC News report on Trump’s comments

    He stated Haitian immigrants were coming to Ohio in large numbers and suggested they were engaging in unusual practices, including eating dogs and cats.

    The Washington Post fact-check on the claims

    JD Vance’s Twitter (now X) post defending Trump’s comments

    Springfield News-Sun local coverage and response

    These sources provide comprehensive coverage of the statements made, the context surrounding them, and the reactions they’ve generated. It’s important to approach this topic with critical thinking and to consider multiple perspectives when evaluating the impact and accuracy of these claims.

    Here are my poems and stories about these ridiculous racist claims.

    Sandra Jones Interrupts Haitian Voodoo Cat Ritual

    Sandra Lee Jones lived in Springfield, Ohio. She was a local political activist and recently had gotten involved in the MAGA movement local chapter which was quite concerned with the problems facing the community with the influx of Haitian immigrants. She was convinced that her Haitian neighbors were killing and eating dogs and cats as part of a satanic voodoo ritual. She followed the controversy on Facebook and was determined to get footage confirming that. She had contacted the local police, the local papers, and the Mayor, but they ignored her frequent calls seeing her as a crank caller and warning her of the legal penalties for filing false and frivolous police reports.

    One night, she went into the woods with her friends to spy on a Haitian voodoo ceremony being held on a full moon night deep in the woods. They saw a lost black cat running away from the campfire being chased by a voodoo priestess.

    Sandra rescued the cat and confronted her.

    Sandra rescued the cat and confronted her.

    “Hey, what are you doing to the cats and dogs? Are you eating them?”

    The priestess, Mambo Lola Sita, said,

    “Back off, Karen. Mind your own business. And give me back Sassy my cat. We need him for our ritual. We can perform a blessing ritual for you and your friends. Maybe you win the lotto or get a new boyfriend or girlfriend, whatever you want I can make happen with my voodoo mojo.

    Sandra pulled out her cell phone and called the police. They were used to her frequent calls and considered her a nuisance crank caller. Jason Adams, her video assistant live streamed the encounter on FB, X, and Fox News. Which broke into their regular programming to bring live coverage of ‘”The Voodoo Cat Ritual” taking place in Springfield, Ohio. They had live interviews with Christian Ministers active in the “anti- Voodoo” movement. Former President Trump and JD Vance live called into the program denouncing the Haitians for conducting shocking voodoo animal sacrifices.

    The right media made Sandra a hero for standing up to the evil Haitians. Donald Trump and JD Vance said they believed her story. Only 30 percent of Americans believed her story, most people were sympathetic to the Haitian immigrants

    Trump lauded the brave woman who saved a cat from death in a voodoo ceremony.,

    Haitian immigrants across the country accused of killing pets, Proud Boys descend on Springfield, Ohio.

    “These animals from Haiti are sick weirdos, totally disgusting vermin. The local police should be arresting them but they are too afraid of the woke radical leftist mob and the rabid pro-open borders media. They kill cats, dogs, and ducks and eat them as part of their satanic Voodoo ceremonies. Why won’t comrade Kamala apologize to the country for letting these Haitian thugs into the country in the first place? Is she a secret Voodoo believer? Her father was from Jamaica they do voodoo there too. I am told Thanks to Sandra the cat was saved. On day one of my Presidency, we will deport all the Haitians in the US, starting with Springfield, ground zero of the Haitian Voodoo invasion, and we will also make Voodoo illegal.”

    The police and media showed up and walked about the campfire confirming that there were no dead animals at the site. They arrested Sandra and her associates for filing a false police report and instigating a hate crime. The Haitians declined to press charges and were released.

    They began receiving hate mail every day. A week later Sandra was horrified when she looked out at the front yard covered with dead cats and dogs on top of the freshly fallen first snow of the year, as the cold front finally moved through.

    “Karen” is a pejorative term that refers to white middle-aged women who call the police to report crimes allegedly being committed by black people.

    “MAGA Make America Great Again” is President Trump’s populist movement that has taken over the Republican party.

    “Mind Your Own Business” is Governor Tim Walz, the democratic party’s candidate warning to the Republican MAGA movement positions on abortion and LRBTQ rights

    Haitian immigrants across the country accused of killing pets, Proud Boys descend on Springfield, Ohio.

    Trump and Vance hold a rally in Springfield to denounce immigrant pet abuse by Haitian immigrants.

    The Proud Boys and other right-wing groups announce that they are going to Springfield, Ohio to hold citizen arrests of the entire Haitian community and expel them from town to save the town from the threat of dog and cat killings posed by the Haitian immigrants.

    After the rally, the proud boys go around shooting and killing Haitians while Trump says nothing to condemn the horrific violence and promises to pay the legal bills of the patriots who cleaned up the city.

    The residents of the town rally to protect their new neighbors and fight back. The Proud Boys and others leave town after killing Haitians and burning down their businesses. The townspeople held a press conference and announced that they would help their Haitian friends rebuilt their lives.

    Trump Says Time to Deport all Haitians

    “When I am President, we will eliminate immigration from shit-hole countries like Haiti and deport Haitians en-mass. It is a terrible country where they come from. The Haitians are simply horrid animals. The proud boys go ahead and rough them up scare them to leave town so they can go and infest I don’t know maybe Oakland? Comrade Harris’s hometown?

    The national Associations of Caribbean Americans endorse Kamala Harris and promises a new beginning for Caribbean Americans including Haitians.

    Donald Trump Doubles Down

    Donald Trump

    Is a stubborn old man

    Adamant in his delusions

    Doubling down on his racist lies,

    Comments about Haitians

    Eeating cats, ducks, dogs and gesse.

    Appealing to his racist white base

    Who eat up his hateful words.

    Haiti Eating dogs Oh My

    Trump and Vance

    Have gone off

    The racist deep-end

    Talking about Haitians

    Eating dogs and cats

    Implying they were engaged

    In weird voodoo rituals.

    Trump Goes  On Tirade about Haitian immigrants

    Trump announced that if he were elected president he would immediately deport Haitians and rescind the TSP program. He went on to say that Haiti was a horrible country, filled with violent vile people who practice voodoo and dogs and cats. He would start with deporting the Haitians in Springfield who are not good people, in fact they are vermin, animals that should be rounded up and shot.

    Haitians Eating Dogs – oh my Semi-found Poem

    “In Springfield,

    they’re eating the dogs,

    the people who came in

    ”

    These animals

    have taken over” Springfield

    and are “walking off,”

    with people’s pets.

    “They’re eating the cats.

    They’re eating

    the pets of the people

    that live there.”

    and this

    is what’s

    happening in our country.

    We’re going

    to get these people out,”

    These animals

    from Haiti are sick weirdos,

    totally disgusting vermin.

    The local police

    should be arresting them

    but they are too afraid

    of the woke radical leftist mob

    and the rabid pro-open borders media.

    They kill cats, dogs,

    and ducks

    and eat them

    as part of their satanic

    Voodoo ceremonies.

    Why won’t comrade Kamala

    apologize to the country

    for letting these Haitian thugs

    into the country

    in the first place?

    Is she a secret voodoo believer?

    Her father was from Jamaica

    they voodoo there too.

    I am told

    Thanks to Sandra

    the cat was saved.

    On day one of my Presidency,

    we will deport

    all the Haitians in the US,

    Starting with Springfield,

    Ground zero of the

    Haitian Voodoo invasion,

    and we will also

    make Voodoo illegal.”

    A local Haitian activist said

    a visit from Trump

    “would be like rubbing sandpaper

    covered with salt

    on an open wound,”

    ” they continue to dehumanize the Haitian community,

    just like this country vilified the Germans and Italians

    in the early 1900s,

    Asians during WWII,

    and now any brown-skinned immigrant,

    whether they be from South America

    or the Caribbean.”

    “What would hurt most

    of all is seeing

    Trump in Springfield,

    being cheered

    on by his supporters

    while Haitians

    have to explain to their children

    why a man

    who aspires to be

    the leader of the free world

    hates their people so.”

    Donald Trump Cat and Duck AI Images

    1

    https://i.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons…

    Donald Trump Cat and Duck AI Images, also known as Donald Trump Cat Memes, Cats For Trump or Ducks For Trump, refers to a series of AI-generated images showing former United States President Donald Trump holding cats and ducks, often rescuing them or running away with the animals, that are then “supporting” him in the 2024 Presidential Election. The artificial intelligence images went viral in early September 2024 as part of a rumor about Haitian immigrants in Ohio purportedly eating pets, notably including a neighbor’s cat and geese, which were then used by Trump supporters to joke about the recent influx of Haitians in the country. Despite local authorities refuting the claims of Haitian immigrants eating people’s animals, the AI pictures depicting Trump rescuing them were widely spread on social media, particularly on X / Twitter.

    Origin

    On September 8th, 2024, multiple right-wing politicians, commentators and influencers began making posts spreading the Haitian immigrants eating pets and geese rumor as the story began garnering attention.

    One of the earliest pieces of memetic content was posted by X[1] user @TrumpsRare that same day, who shared an AI-generated video of Donald Trump kissing a duck captioned, “I love you. I would never let the Haitians eat you.” The upload (shown below) received over 2.3 million views, 8,1700 reposts and 57,000 likes in one day.

    Spread
    Several AI images depicting Donald Trump saving cats and ducks from people (presumably intended to depict Haitian immigrants) started to appear across X, Reddit and TikTok in the following days after the rumor gained traction on social media in early September 2024.

    For example, on September 9th, 2024, the X[2] page @JudiciaryGOP posted an AI montage showing Trump hugging a kitty and a goose while he’s in the water, captioning it with, “Protect our ducks and kittens in Ohio!” The tweet (seen below) amassed more than 67 million views, 7,900 reposts and 32,000 likes in a day.

    https://knowyourmeme.com/photos/2901978

    Also on September 9th, Redditor[3] Ok-Star-6787 posted an AI image of Trump holding two kittens while running away from two men, captioning the post, “For Trump to save your neighborhood cats.” The post (seen below) received roughly 275 upvotes and 38 comments in a day.

    https://knowyourmeme.com/photos/2901979

    On the same day, TikTok[4] user @teamwork200000 posted a video featuring cats wearing “cats for rump” hats (seen below), which garnered over 10,000 plays and 1,600 likes in a day.

    The Trump cat memes were also mentioned by Congressman Eric Swalwell on September 10th, 2024, which was later uploaded on X[5] by the page @townhallcom (seen below). In the video, Swalwell calls out @JudiciaryGOP AI image featuring Trump holding a kitty and a goose, saying “You’re tweeting this nonsense.” The post amassed more than 196,000 views and 1,400 likes in a few hours.

    Substack

    https://jakecosmosaller.substack.com/p/maga-freakout-about-haitians-eating?r=3i9lm

    Medium

    <div class=”ajl gm aju”>Copy Friend Link</div>

    Wattpad

    MAGA Freak Out About Haitians Eating Pets

    My commentary on President Trump’s Racist rant about Haitian immigrants Eating Pets More

    Spotify

    https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/jake1818/episodes/MAGA-Freakout-About-Haitians-Eating-Pets-e2os5fn

    The End

    Share this:

    • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • More
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
    • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
    • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Print (Opens in new window) Print
    • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

    Like this:

    Like Loading…
    September 25, 2024
  • April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems

    April 2024 Poetry Madness April 15 to 20 Poems

    April Poetry Madness 2024 April 15 to April 2024

    https://wp.me/p7NAzO-2QB

    This is the third batch of my April Poetry Madness challenge poems, (for April 15 to April 20), 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 -This Posting 

     

    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

    Begin Poems 

    Writers Digest Prompts

    April 15 New Middle Poem  Middle Of Political Silly Season In The U.S.  Trigger Warning Mild Political Rant

     

     

     

     

    We are in the middle

    Of the us political season

    Unlike any other before.

     

    The choice is clear.

     

    Vote for the incumbent

    Who is an old man

    With good intentions

    And a good heart.

     

    Vrs

     

    The prior president

    Who is a narcissistic sociopathic

    Twice impeached

    Whose family is the real crime family

    Nothing but grifters through and through.

     

    Or RFK jr who is running

    For his inflated ego reasons

    And Cornel West as well.

     

    Thinking that somehow

    Lightening with strike

    And make them president!

     

    Everything all on hold

    Until the dust settles

    After the election.

    After today’s poem, we’ll be in the exact middle of this poem-a-day challenge, which means it’ll be all easy writing from here, right?

    For today’s prompt, write a middle poem. Some people feel stuck in the middle; others like being in the middle of things. Some foods are known for their middles (like jelly doughnuts and empanadas). So poem your way to, within, or away from the middle today.

    April 16 New Tuesday prompt write a Shadorma poem about recent tech layoffs

    CEO To Labor Units of Production Shardona – You are Not Wanted

     

    new Memo

    To all employees

    redundancy

    if you are on the list below

    You are not needed.

     

    the tech world is brutal people are being fired by impersonal quotes, Twitter or just hearing about it after the fact a favorite tactic is mass firing with selected people being asked to reapply. The underlying message in Corporate America is that workers are just disposable labor units, and this includes everyone except the top people who get golden parachutes or bonuses for showing how cruel they can be to their labor unit of production drones.

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, we have our third two-for-Tuesday prompt.

    For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

    1. Write a poetic form poem, and/or…
    2. Write an anti-form poem.

     

    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

    A bonus poem is included as an example of a Shadorma poem.

    Also, you can link multiple shadorma (shadows? shadorma?) like in my example below:

    “Miss Shadorma”

    She throws birds
    at the school children
    on playgrounds
    made of steel
    who run intense spirals to
    the chain-link fencing.

    Sad teachers
    watch as they spiral
    into air
    like reverse
    helicopter seeds searching
    for their maple trees.

    April 18  WD Pessimistic Poem

    CEO Fires Workers at Midnight by Email-Arrests Those Who Did Not Get the Memo

    Welcome to the new improved

    Corporate America

    As more and more people

    Become corporate wage slaves.

     

    The CEO fired workers

    At midnight via email

    And arrested those

    Who did not get the message.

     

    They did not even get the customary

    Meeting with HR flacks

    Just told

     

    “ Your services

    Are no longer needed

    “: F… Off, you are fired

    You did not check your email

    Before work – that’s not my concern.

     

    They were not allowed in the building

    Had their ID’s canceled on the spot

    Told to go home.

     

    Did not get a customary

    Goodbye lunch

    Or a chance

    To clear out their desks.

     

    At least he did not

    Just blast a list of fired employees

    On X

     

    Which would have been totally

    In character with him.

     

    Perhaps he is a bit afraid

    Of his workers now?

     

    No doubt

    Part of a new secret AI

    Business management program.

     

    The message is

     

    “You are nothing but

    Disposable labor units

    of production.

    Nothing more than pawns.

     

    And I am the Chess master

    And will decide whether you live

    Or die.

     

    Get used to it”

     

    That’s the new America

    And the world we are building.

     

    While many people were appalled

    At the craven horrid mistreatment

    Of his workers

    Wall Street investors were delighted.

     

    Welcome to the new

    “corporate America”.

     

    Where workers are just

    Disposable labor units

    Of production.

     

    And the wage slaves

    Live in fear

    Of losing their jobs

    And joining the ranks

    Of the homeless.

     

    After today’s poem, we’ll be three-fifths of the way through this challenge. Remember in the beginning when we were all writing such optimistic poems? Well…

    For today’s prompt, write a pessimistic poem. Think about what’s gone wrong, what is going wrong, and what will go wrong in the future. Some people would say this

     

    April 17

    Not the Way to Fire People New Rules in the New Corporation Dominated World

     

     

     

    Not so long ago
    corporations treated workers
    as valued members of the corporation family
    and were reluctant to fire people
    once they were hired.

    Only firing them for cause
    or when unavoidable
    but doing it with some dignity.

    Managers taking them aside
    offering to help them transition
    to another company
    even having a goodbye lunch.

    But not anymore

    In the new corporate world
    driven by profits, and the ruthless bottom line
    and AI-driven redundancy rules,

    The new way to fire people
    is simply this

    Fire them impersonally
    by midnight emails
    or Twitter blasts.

    Never by in-person meetings
    or phone calls
    who the hell has time for that
    or even cares about the labor units?

    Often while they are on vacation
    because in the corporate world.

    Workers are now nothing
    but interchangeable labor units
    of production.

    Firing them the day before Christmas
    is applauded
    Firing them by public tweets
    Good business model.

    Firing them by midnight email
    Sunday night

    Brilliant movie.

    As workers are the enemy
    and must be controlled
    monitored and constantly subject
    to fear of being fired.

    And once you are fired
    the social safety net
    is disappearing.

    Soon unions will be illegal
    safety rules gone
    welfare benefits gone
    child labor laws have gone
    civil rights laws are gone.

    Medicare gone
    social security privatized
    in a race to the bottom.

    Homeless becoming a crime
    as well
    as redundant workers
    are treated as less than human.

    Sub-human animals

    and vermin

    trash to be deposed of.

    The goal is to make workers
    Like the disposable as labor units
    in third-world countries
    Fighting for table scrap wages.

    All done by people
    Who think that they
    are Christians and pro-workers!

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write a Not Blank poem.

    For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Not (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: “Not the Only One,” “Not Like This,” “Not Without Eating One More Piece of Pie,” and/or “Not Sure What I Was Saying.”

    *****April 19

    Emotion Poem -fears of falling

    As one gets older

    One becomes consumed with fears

    Fear of almost everything.

     

    Climate change, earthquakes

    Monster storms, volcanos.

    political chaos and war

     

    The other day, I stumbled and fell.

    Adding fear of falling to my list.

     

    Write a poem every day of April with the 2024 April Poem-A-Day Challenge. For today’s prompt, write an emotional poem.

    For today’s prompt, pick an emotion, make it the title of your poem, and write your poem. Possible emotions might include happy, sad, grumpy, angry, scared, and more.  Here’s.

     

    April 20

    The Circus Bear Escapes

    The rambling bear

    Woke up from his winter nap

     

    Found he was now a circus bear.

    Wearing a flared collar

    Forced to perform

    For his supper

     

    Hearing praise from his owners

    Who fed him

     

    Until he rose up

    Eescaping back into the woods.

     

    prompt words used six words

    Bear

    Collar

    Flair

    Hear

    Praise

    Ramble

    Or for extra credit, use all six words.

    Also, as an alternate prompt: Write a six-word poem (doesn’t have to use any of the above words).

    Met And Married My Dream Lady

    I

    Met

    and

    Married

    My Dream

    Lady

     

    Writing Com Dew Drop Inn Prompts

     

    April 15 Lament Watching the News

    While watching the news
    I am constantly lamenting
    The sad state of political discourse
    In these increasingly
    Disunited United States of America.

    Where we have retreated into enemy tribes
    Blue, red, and purple states
    With each convinced their tribe
    Is righteous, patriotic, and pro-American.

    Accusing the other tribe
    As anti-american fascists
    plotting to set up a dictatorship.

    Some talking darkly
    about Civil War 2.0.

    That is my daily lament
    Particularly when insomnia
    Steals slept from me
    At 0 dark hundred.

    revised to make it less of a rant

    “O Dark Hundred” is military jargon for the time two hours before dawn when operatives get up for dawn operations. I use it to denote the hours in the middle of the night I have nightmares.

    April 16—Rain

     

    No Rain

    In 2025, the world ended
    With the collapse
    Of the worldwide climate system.

    Monster storms of the century
    devastated half the world.

    But the other half of the world
    Had no rain or snow
    For almost a whole year
    The once-green grass was dying.

    Crops failed everywhere
    And baked in the unrelenting
    Blast wave furnace-like heat
    Heatwave after heatwave.

    Military coups took place
    Fascism re-emerged
    The public demanded action
    The politicians played
    The blame game.

    With the collapse of trade
    And travel restrictions
    People stayed home
    Making do the best they could.

    Home-grown gardens
    Proliferated.

    Feudal townships grew
    As people walled themselves off
    To save their communities.

    The rich build underground cities
    While the poor starved
    And civilization crumbled

    Wildlife proliferated
    As did neo-savage
    cannibal gangs.

    By the year 2030
    It was all over
    And the rains
    Never came out west.

    The prompt was “Rain”

    April 17—Prove Something God’s Demented Sense of Humor

     

    I sometimes think

    That God if he/she/it exists

    And created the Universe

    It must have a demented

    Sense of humor.

     

    How else can you explain

    Why did he create a parasite

    That hides in your system

    Inert but if you take

    Steroids for any reason.

     

    It blows up like a basketball

    Bursting out and killing you,

    In thirty minutes.

     

    Leaving the doctors

    Wondering WTF

    Just happened.

     

    Recording your death

    As a medical mystery.

     

    Very few doctors

    Have ever encountered

    Or heard about

    This weird parasite.

     

    Note: Based on a true story. Back in the day, I contracted this parasite in Thailand. A few years later, I was in the hospital battling an MRD staph infection and underwent 14 operations. Almost lost my life and my leg. The internal medicine doctor said that there was something else going on and finally told me I had this weird parasite that is inert, but I should take some medicine to kill it because if I ever took steroids it would blow up to the size of a Basketball and kill me in 30 minutes. I always said Thank God for that doctor. Nine months later, I developed a frozen shoulder because of excessive antibiotic use and had a steroid shot.  If that internal medicine doctor had not found the parasite, I would have died a medical mystery.

     

    April 18—Question Something The Basic Decency And Sanity Of Americans Trigger warning – anti-Trump Rant!

     

    These days I wonder about

    the basic decency and sanity

    of the American people.

     

    How can 40 percent

    Of my fellow Americans

    Still, support him?

     

    Still believe he was

    The greatest President ever.

     

    I  just don’t understand it

    Why he is polling at 40 percent

    And not 4 percent

    Is beyond me.

     

    April 19—Define or celebrate a word or concept -Scumbagology

    Tucker Carlson

    Scumbagology

    is the study

    Of the actions of a scumbag.

     

    A scumbag is a narcissistic, sociopathic

    Self-center person willing to do anything

    to get ahead.

     

    No loyalty to those who serve him

    it is all about me!

    The greatest person

    in the world.

     

    Unfortunately, there are so many

    Scumbags in the world,

    In a position of power

    In business and politics.

     

    Don’t need to name names

    You know who they are.

     

    April 20—Standup Comedy – The  Insult Comedy Tour!

    Don Rickles
    Don Rickles

     

     

     

     

     

     

    How and why he

    Remains so popular

    With some Americans

    Remains a mystery.

     

    He remains me

    Of an old-time insult

    Comedian, Don Rickles

     

    Who was infamous

    For insulting his audience

    Who loved his edgy comic styling,

    As he cruelly mocked

    everything and everyone.

     

    But, over time,

    people got tired of his routine

    And his style of humor faded away

     

    But the former President

    has resurrected the insult comedy routine.

     

    Going to his rallies

    Is akin to a religious revival

    For some people.

     

    They delight in being

    Part of his whole mad

    Carnival scene.

     

    But for many of us

    the T comedy tour

    is no longer funny

    if it ever was.

     

    NaPoWriMo Poems

    April 15  My stamp collection

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    When I was a young man

    Almost 55 years ago

    I had a stamp collection

    I inherited it from my grandfather.

     

    I loved looking

    At stamps from

    Around the world.

     

    I had a lot of African stamps

    Caribbean stamps.

     

    Costa Rica stands.

    Korean stamps.

     

    Vietnamese stamps.

    Japanese stamps.

    Polish Stamps.

    Spanish stamps.

     

    Even a few stamps

    From 1860 or so

    Including a rare

    Confederate States of America stamp.

     

    That was worth something

    Back thirty years ago

    When there was

    A collectible market.

     

    Sadly, no one cares anymore

    The stamp and collectible market

    Dying out as us old people die out.

     

    As younger people

    Just don’t see the value

    Of stamps or collectibles

     

    In a world of instant

    Entertainment

    streaming TV services

     

    Fears of war

    Fears of climate change

    Fears of political violence

    And economic uncertainty.

     

    And fewer people

    Even use stamps anymore.

     

    I have not looked at it

    In years, still have it.

     

    And my stamp collection

    CD and book collections

     

    Will go

    Into a trash can

    When I die.

     

    No longer of any value

    Just the way

    of this modern world.

     

    And now for our prompt – optional, as always! Today, we’d like to encourage you to take a look at @StampsBot and become inspired by the wide, wonderful, and sometimes wacky world of postage stamps. For example, while it certainly makes sense that China would issue a stamp featuring a panda, it’s less clear to us why the Isle of Man should feel the need to honor 2001: A Space Odyssey in stamp form. From Romanian mushrooms to Sudanese weavers to the Marshall Islands getting far too excited over personal computing, stamps are a quasi-lyrical, quasi-bizarre look into what different cultures (or at least their postal authorities) hold dear.

     

    And if you’re not on or able to access the @StampsBot account, fear not! You may find an inspiring stamp or two by perusing the online “International Philately” (say that three times fast) exhibit from the National Postal Museum.

    April 16

    Late Night Earthquake Blues

    Often at night

    At o dark hundred hours

    I am wide awake

    Thinking of things

    As my mind drifts down

    Endless rabbit holes

    What if plays in my mind

    As my wild imagination takes off.

     

    Woken up by a real earthquake.

    True Story

    Based on my recent trip to Kyunshu, Japan, when I was up at night with insomnia about midnight. Then woken up by an incoming message screaming Earthquake over and over again, followed in 30 secnonds by a real earthquake.  The Japanese have a great diaster notification system – goes out to every cell phone in the country, in English and Japanese, within moments of either an Earthquake, Volcanic eruption, Typhoon  wild fire or the dreaded Tsunami.

    O Dark Hundred is military intel jargon that is the period two to three hours before dawn when intelligence and special forces get ready for dawn operations depending on the time and day between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m.  I often have insomnia at 0 dark hundred and get up to write down my wild poems and stories floating in my head at 0 dark hundred.

    Finally, here’s today’s (optional) prompt, taken from our 2016 archives. Today, we challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. The “surprise” ending to this James Wright poem is a good illustration of the effect we’re hoping you’ll achieve. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details

    Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

    BY JAMES WRIGHT
    Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
    Asleep on the black trunk,
    Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
    Down the ravine behind the empty house,
    The cowbells follow one another
    Into the distances of the afternoon.
    To my right,
    In a field of sunlight between two pines,
    The droppings of last year’s horses
    Blaze up into golden stones.
    I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
    A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
    I have wasted my life.

    April 17

    What is Hip?

    My favorite music

    Has always been funk

    The tower of power

    The best funk band

    Of them all

     

    Formed in the East Bay

    In the turbulent 60s

    Still going strong

    Almost 50 years later!

     

    Their love song

    You’re still a young man

    Is perhaps the greatest

    make out song

    Of all times.

     

    The first song I slowed danced to

    Back in high school

    A song I played

    To seduce my wife.

     

    I wonder how many babies

    Were conceived because

    Of this classic soul song.

     

    Another classic song

    What is hip

    Which poised

    An unanswered question

     

    And inspired this triolet

     

    What is love, tell me if you know

    Love is what it is

    Do you know what love is, Joe?

    What is love, tell me if you know

    And how can you make it grow?

    Madness is what it does

    What is love, tell me if you know

    Love is what it is

     

    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 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, 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 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 never do you
    No wrong no no lady if you would check my stuff out one time haha
    Just to hold you, just 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!

     

    <iframe width=”1366″ height=”768″ src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/rtE4V6YxKZ8&#8243; title=”You&#39;re Still a Young Man (Remastered)” frameborder=”0″ allow=”accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share” allowfullscreen></iframe>

     

    Written by legendary sax players Emilio Castillo and Stephen Kupka, the song portrays a young man at the wrong end of a break-up. 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 like 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

    Last but not least, here’s our optional prompt for the day. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is inspired by a piece of music, and that shares its title with that piece of music. Need an example? Here’s A. Van Jordan’s “Que Sera Sera” and Adrian Matejka’s “Soave Sia Il Vento.”

    “Que Sera Sera”

    BY A. VAN JORDAN
    In my car, driving through Black Mountain,
    North Carolina, I listen to what
    sounds like Doris Day shooting
    heroin inside Sly Stone’s throat.
    One would think that she fights
    to get out, but she wants to stay
    free in this skin. Fresh,
    The Family Stone’s album,
    came out in ’73, but I didn’t make sense
    of it till ’76, sixth grade for me,
    the Bicentennial, I got my first kiss that year,
    I beat up the class bully; I was the man.
    But for now, in my head, it’s only ’73
    and I’m a little boy again, listening
    to Sly and his Family covering Doris’s hit,
    driving down I-40;
    a cop pulls me over to ask why
    I’m here, in his town, with my Yankee tags.
    I let him ask a series of questions
    about what kind of work I do,
    what brings me to town—you know
    the kind of questions that tell you
    this has nothing to do with driving a car.
    My hands want to ball into fists.
    But, instead, I tell myself to write a letter
    to the Chief of Police, to give him something
    to laugh at over his morning paper,
    as I try to recall the light in Doris Day’s version
    of “Que Sera Sera”—without the wail
    troubling the notes in the duet
    of Sly and Cynthia’s voices.
    Hemingway meant to define
    courage by the nonchalance you exude
    while taking cover within your flesh,
    even at the risk of losing
    what some would call a melody;
    I call it the sound of home.
    Like when a song gets so far out
    on a solo you almost don’t recognize it,
    but then you get back to the hook, you suddenly
    recognize the tune and before you know it,
    you’re putting your hands together; you’re on your feet—
    because you recognize a sound, like a light,
    leading you back home to a color:
    rust. You must remember
    rust—not too red, not too orange—not fire or overnight
    change, but a simmering-summer
    change in which children play till they tire
    and grown folks sit till they grow edgy
    or neighborhood dogs bite those not from your neigborhood
    and someone with some sense says Down, Boy,
    or you hope someone has some sense
    who’s outside or who owns the dog and then the sky
    turns rust and the streetlights buzz on
    and someone’s mother, must be yours, says
    You see those streetlights on don’t you,
    and then everybody else’s mother comes out and says
    the same thing and the sky is rust so you know
    you got about ten minutes before she comes back out
    and embarrasses you in front of your friends;
    ten minutes to get home before you eat and watch
    the Flip Wilson Show or Sanford and Son and it’s time for bed.
    And it’s rust you need to remember
    when the cop asks, What kind of work you do?
    It’s rust you need to remember: the smell
    of summer rain on the sidewalk
    and the patina on wrought-iron railings on your front porch
    with rust patches on them, and the smell
    of fresh mowed grass and gasoline and sweat
    of your childhood as he takes a step back
    when you tell him you’re a poet teaching
    English down the road at the college,
    when he takes a step back—
    to assure you, know, that this has nothing to do with race,
    but the rust of a community he believes
    he keeps safe, and he says Have a Good One,
    meaning day as he swaggers back to his car,
    and the color of the day and the face behind sunglasses
    and the hands on his hips you’ll always remember
    come back gunmetal gray
    for the rest of this rusty afternoon.
    So you roll up the window
    and turn the music back on,
    and try to remember the rust caught in Sly’s throat—
    when the song came out in ’73,
    although I didn’t get it till ’76,
    sixth grade for me, the Bicentennial;
    I got my first kiss that year.
    I beat up the class bully.
    I was the man.
    A. Van Jordan, “‘Que Sera Sera’” from Quantum Lyrics. Copyright © 2007 by A. Van Jordan. Used by permission of the author and W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. This selection may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.
    Source: Quantum Lyrics (W. W. Norton and Company Inc., 2007)

    Soave Sia Il Vento

    Adrian Matejka

    after Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

    In the wobbly pirouette between song
    & dust, dog-nosed living room windows
    & a purple couch that should have been curbed
    last July: Saturday sunlight cuts it all every
    time you lean into some kind of ballet pose.
    Your belly & knobby elbow & leotarded knee
    wavering in a slim balance. Jeté, effacé—
    I don’t know what they mean & nod anyway.
    You reach & spin & dog hair hangs
    in the air like the start of heartfelt applause.

    Copyright © 2017 by Adrian Matejka. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on April 18, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.

    April 18 It’s A Dog’s Life for Me

     

     

     

     

     

    It’s a Dog’s life for Me

    https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/its-a-dogs-life-for-me-1.mp3

    In my next life

    I’d like to come back

    As a dog.

     

    It seems dogs

    Have it made?

     

    All they have to do

    Is cute

    Look at their owner

    With love

    Blazing from their eyes.

     

    Listening to their owner

    Blather on and on

    Which is never boring.

     

    Even though they don’t understand

    Much human speech.

    Still amazing to watch

     

    And listen to

    These foolish people.

     

    Occasionally acting tough

    When unauthorized people

    Get too close.

     

    And they get food

    A walk

    And their owner

    Even cleans

    Up after them!

     

    What a carefree life

    For a dog.

     

    Yes, my next life

    I want to be

    A cute house dog.

     

    And now for our (optional) prompt! Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem in which the speaker expresses the desire to be someone or something else and explains why. Two possible models for you: Natasha Rao’s “In My Next Life Let Me Be a tomato,” and Randall Jarrell’s “The Woman at the Washington Zoo.”

    In my next life let me be a tomato

    BY NATASHA RAO
    lusting and unafraid. In this bipedal incarnation
    I have always been scared of my own ripening,
    mother standing outside the fitting room door.
    I only become bright after Bloody Mary’s, only whole
    in New Jersey summers where beefsteaks, like baubles,
    sag in the yard, where we pass down heirlooms
    in thin paper envelopes and I tend barefoot to a garden
    that snakes with desire, unashamed to coil and spread.
    Cherry Falls, Brandywine, Sweet Aperitif, I kneel
    with a spool, staking and tying, checking each morning
    after last night’s thunderstorm only to find more
    sprawl, the tomatoes have no fear of wind and water,
    they gain power from the lightning, while I, in this version
    of life, retreat in bed to wither. In this life, rabbits
    are afraid of my clumsy gait. In the next, let them come
    willingly to nibble my lowest limbs, my outstretched
    arm always offering something sweet. I want to return
    from reincarnation’s spin covered in dirt and
    buds. I want to be unabashed, audacious, to gobble
    space, to blush deeper each day in the sun, knowing
    I’ll end up in an eager mouth. An overly ripe tomato
    will begin sprouting, so excited it is for more life,
    so intent to be part of this world, trellising wildly.
    For every time in this life I have thought of dying, let me
    yield that much fruit in my next, skeleton drooping
    under the weight of my own vivacity as I spread to take
    more of this air, this fencepost, this forgiving light.
    Natasha Rao, “In my next life let me be a tomato” from Latitude. Copyright © 2021 by Natasha Rao. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, http://www.coppercanyonpress.org.

    The Woman at the Washington Zoo

    BY RANDALL JARRELL
    The saris go by me from the embassies.
    Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet.
    They look back at the leopard like the leopard.
    And I….
                   this print of mine, that has kept its color
    Alive through so many cleanings; this dull null
    Navy I wear to work, and wear from work, and so
    To my bed, so to my grave, with no
    Complaints, no comment: neither from my chief,
    The Deputy Chief Assistant, nor his chief—
    Only I complain…. this serviceable
    Body that no sunlight dyes, no hand suffuses
    But, dome-shadowed, withering among columns,
    Wavy beneath fountains—small, far-off, shining
    In the eyes of animals, these beings trapped
    As I am trapped but not, themselves, the trap,
    Aging, but without knowledge of their age,
    Kept safe here, knowing not of death, for death—
    Oh, bars of my own body, open, open!
    The world goes by my cage and never sees me.
    And there come not to me, as come to these,
    The wild beasts, sparrows pecking the llamas’ grain,
    Pigeons settling on the bears’ bread, buzzards
    Tearing the meat the flies have clouded….
                                                                    Vulture,
    When you come for the white rat that the foxes left,
    Take off the red helmet of your head, the black
    Wings that have shadowed me, and step to me as man:
    The wild brother at whose feet the white wolves fawn,
    To whose hand of power the great lioness
    Stalks, purring….
                                  You know what I was,
    You see what I am: change me, change me!

    Randall Jarrell, “The Woman at the Washington Zoo” from The Complete Poems. Copyright © 1969, renewed 1997 by Mary von S. Jarrell. Used by permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC, http://www.fsgbooks.com. All rights reserved.

    Caution: Users are warned that this work is protected under copyright laws and downloading is strictly prohibited. The right to reproduce or transfer the work via any medium must be secured with Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC.

    Source: The Complete Poems (Farrar Straus and Giroux, 2001)

    April 19 Hunting the Monsters in Hell

     

     

     

    Joe Lewis woke up

    In a dark forest

    Haunted by my monsters

    From his worst nightmares.

     

    He saw in the clearing behind him.

    Giant apes, space aliens, banshees, bats, Bigfoot, centaurs, Cerberus, cheetahs, crows, coyotes, Cthulhu with tentacles, dragons, demons, dinosaurs (raptors and T. Rex), devils, dwarfs, gangbangers, gangsters, gangster rappers. Gators, goblins, ghouls, ghosts, giants, giant ants, giant wasps, giant spiders, giant lobsters, gunmen, hellhounds, big game hunters, government bureaucrats,  holocausts, imps, Imperial Stormtroopers from Star Wars, naked incubus, leprechauns, jihadis, Lucifer, lions, politicians, mafia made men, ravens, monsters, orcs,  reporters, bewitching beautiful yet deadly sirens, Satan, satyrs, snakes, winged monkeys, serpents, special forces soldiers, tigers, werewolves, wolves, witches, warlocks, wraiths, wild things, yeti, and zombies all staring at him.  A half-centaur, half-pig monster with two heads–Putin and Trump led the mob.

     

    He began running away from them

    They were gaining on him

    He saw a fort ahead

    Ran inside.

     

    The Grim Reaper  handed him a gun

    Said,

     

    “If you can kill the head monster

    You will live

    And be sent back

    Good hunting.”

     

    And threw him back

    Into the fray.

     

    Joe Lewis took aim

    Hunting down the Putin-Trump

    Two-headed Pig Monster.

     

    The monster squealed

    And died.

     

    The other monsters

    Ran away

    Having seen who was master.

     

    Joe woke up in his bed

    Saw a note on his phone,

     

    “Good hunting.

    You have been given

    Five more years.

    Of life on earth.”

     

    Your friend,

    GR.

     

    Finally, here’s our prompt – optional, as always! This one comes to us from Moist Poetry Journal, which posted this prompt by K-ming Chang a while back:

    What are you haunted by, or what haunts you? Write a poem responding to this question. Then change the word haunt to hunt.

    Happy (and potentially spooky) writing!

     

    Day 20  Trail of Tears – My Family Connection

     

     

     

     

     

    My Mother’s history

     

    One day many a year ago

    My mother spoke to me

    About her family’s tangled history,

     

    She spoke to me

    Of lies, half-truths, and myths

    Some of which may have been true

    And throughout the evening

    Her history came alive.

     

    She was born in the hills

    of North Little Rock

    The 10th of 11 children

    Of an ancient dying race.

     

    The Cherokees

    who had run away

    Refusniks

    Refugees who fled into the hills.

     

    Part of the lost tribe of the Cherokee Nation

    Part Cherokee, Choctaw, Creek, Seminole

    and African Americans

    Who fled to the mountains

    To avoid the trail of tears.

     

    Rather than join the rest

    In the promised land

    Of Oklahoma.

     

    They did not exist

    I did not exist.

     

    The BIA told us

    No Indian scholarship

    For you

     

    Since you can’t prove

    You are in fact

    Of Native American ancestry,

     

    I asked my mother

    What does this mean?

    She spoke

     

    No BIA money for you,

    My non-Indian son.

     

    Her family and Bill Clinton’s family

    Were related

    Bill Clinton and I are distant cousins

     

    When I met him

    I related my family history

    He concluded that we were indeed cousins

    Said I could call him Cousin Bill

    And he would call me Cousin Jake

     

    And he too was part Cherokee

    Irish, Scotch, French

    And African American

    Part of the lost tribe

    Of the Cherokee nation

     

    I told my mom

    This story

    She spoke

    It was true

     

    She was a distant cousin

    Of Bill Clinton

    Still did not like

    The lying SOB

     

    Her people disappeared

    From history’s eyes

    DNA data banks

     

     

    My history was over

    As was hers

     

    And so,

    I learned at last

    The painful truth

     

    Due to the genocidal crimes

    of politicians so long ago

    My mother’s people

     

    Lost their land, their culture,

    and their hope

    And became

    downtrodden forgotten people

     

    Hillbillies were called

    Living in the hills and mountain dales

    Clinging to the dim fading memories

    Of their once glorious past

    As proud Cherokees

     

    Now no one knew their name

    The old ways were forgotten

    And the new world never forgave them

     

    And they never forgave the new world

    As they lived on

    In the margins of society

    Forgotten people

     

    And I vowed that as long as I lived

    Their history would not die

    As I knew the truth

     

    And I would become a proud

    Cherokee

    And make my mother proud of me

    And my accomplishments

     

    When I am down and out

    I recall her stories and her warnings

    And realize it is up to me

     

    To live my life

    To let the Cherokee in me

    Live his life

     

    And in so doing

    My mother’s history does not die

     

    It lives on in me

    Until the day I die

     

    Long live the Cherokee nation

    Long live my mother

     

    Note:  My latest DNA test analysis finally revealed that I do indeed have some Indian ancestry but less than 5 percent and African American also less than 5 percent, and the rest mostly Scandinavian, German, Irish, Scottish, English, Italian, French, Eastern European, Spanish, Mongolian (everyone who is part Eastern European has some Mongolian DNA) Russian,  Jewish and for some strange reason part Basque, and part Laplander (related to the Eskimos living in Norway. Sweden, Finland, and Russian arctic regions).

     

    My family name is German, but they were originally French who fled to protestant Germany during the 100-year war.

     

    The Lost Tribe of the Cherokees were also called Black Irish and were a mixture of Indians who had run away into the hills rather than go to Oklahoma, and intermixed with runaway slaves, Scot-Irish settlers, and others.  They were and are a small insular clan of about 25,000 people or so. Mostly living in Arkansas, East Texas, and Missouri – the Ozark mountains where they had fled.  My mother reported that her parents spoke Cherokee and one of her sisters had a Cherokee name.  I recently discovered a list of her siblings and indeed one had a foreign-sounding name.  I had the name of a great-grandfather who was born in 1831 about the time of the removal so I might be able to see if he is on the Cherokee enrollment rolls which were done just before the removal in 1832 I believe. I will follow up shortly.

     

     

    Our optional prompt for the day challenges you to write a poem that recounts a historical event. In writing your poem, you could draw on your memory, encyclopedias, history books, or primary documents. If you’re interested in a little research, you might find interesting this collection of letters written during the American Civil War, or this collection of primary documents concerning South Sea voyages. Or perhaps you might find something of interest in digging through European, an online clearinghouse of digitized materials from cultural institutions across Europe.

    Mary Aller Obituary

    Mary Geneva Aldridge Aller Sept. 9, 1923 – July 31, 2007 Former Resident of Berkeley Mary was born and raised in Little Rock, Arkansas, and came to the Bay Area in the 1940s and settled in Berkeley where she resided until 2003. During the 1950s, she was active in the labor movement, and served several years as the President of the Pacific Telephone Operators Union. During the late 1950s, she was a real estate agent and involved with the Berkeley League of Women’s Voters, and the “Save the Bay” movement. In 1952, she made local headlines when she told President Truman’s staff that she did not want to meet him unless he wanted to meet her. The San Francisco Chronicle wrote a big article with the Headline “Harry Meets Mary.” She was a long term political activist and active member of the Berkeley Co-Op along with her husband, Dr. Curtis Aller, who passed away in 1985. During the 1960s, she accompanied her husband to Washington, D.C. when he served as the Undersecretary of Labor. She returned to Berkeley in 1968 where she worked with her husband until 1984 as the business manager for the Center for Applied Manpower Research. Mary is survived by two sisters, Mildred and Robbie who live in Arkansas. She is also survived by six children, Roger Aller of Sebastopol, California, John (Jake) Aller of Washington, DC, Thomas Aller of Albany, California, Inga Aller of Gualala, California, Richard and Larry Wilson from her first marriage, and many grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. The family will have a private ceremony Friday August 3 for interment. Flowers can be sent to the Sunset View Funeral Home, 101 Colusa Avenue, in El Cerrito (510) 525-5111.

    Published by Contra Costa Times on Aug. 3, 2007.

    The End

     

     

    Share this:

    • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • More
    • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
    • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
    • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
    • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
    • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
    • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Print (Opens in new window) Print
    • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
    • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
    • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

    Like this:

    Like Loading…
    April 27, 2024
  • 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.

    • Personnel
      • Charts
        • References

           

          Bump City

          • Article
          • Talk
          • Read
          • Edit
          • View history

           

          From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
          Bump City
          Studio album by

          Tower of Power
          Released May 1972
          Recorded 1971-1972
          Studio Trans Maximus Inc. Recording Studios, Memphis, Tennessee
          Genre Soul, funk
          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
          • Ron Capone, Steve Cropper – mixing

          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:
            • This poem exemplifies cowboy poetry. Written in a narrative form, it uses slang and vivid storytelling. Here’s an excerpt:

              “Away up high in the Sierry Petes where the yeller Jack Pine grows tall,
              Ol’ Sandy Bob and Buster Jig had a rodeer camp last fall.
              Oh, They’d taken their hosses and their runnin’ irons an’ maybe a dog or two,
              And ‘lowed they’d brand any long-eared calves that come within their view.” 
              1

          2. “A Prairie Song” (Anonymous):
            • A shorter poem with six stanzas, it captures the spirit of traveling and horseback riding:

              “Oh, music springs under the galloping hoofs,
              Out on the plains;
              Where mile after mile drops behind with a smile,
              And tomorrow seems always to tempt and beguile.” 
              1

          3. “The Strawberry Roan” by Curley Fletcher:
            • Written in quatrains (four-line stanzas), this poem celebrates a horseback ride:

              “I was laying round town just spending my time,
              Out of a job and not makin’ a dime;
              When up steps a feller and he says, ‘I suppose,
              That you’re a bronc rider by the looks of your clothes?’” 
              1

          4. “The Old Frying Pan” by James W. Whilt:
            • An ode to the humble frying pan, this poem reflects on its usefulness:

              “You may talk of your broilers, both single and double,
              Your roasters and toasters, they’re all lots of trouble;
              But when out in the hills, just find if you can,
              Any kind of a dish like the old frying pan.” 
              1

          5. “The Camp-fire Has Gone Out” (Anonymous):
            • This poignant poem mourns the decline of cowboy culture:

              “The Camp-fire has gone out, and rusts the iron pot,
              The chuck-wagon is still, and the coffee is not;
              The flaps of the tent are untied to the breeze,
              And over the prairie the cattle roam free.” 
              1

          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

           

           

           

           

           

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/cosmic-dog-from-Goa.mp3

          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 Israel. Genetic 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

           

           

           

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          April 7, 2024
        • Lonely Dog Published

          Lonely Dog Published

          Lonely Dog Published

           

           

           

           

          Spillwords has published Lonely Dog

          They have published a number of my poems previously.  you can find them below

          Spillwords Publishes Gun Madness

          More Spillwords

          SpillWords Interview

          Revolt of the Sharks

          Below are the publication details to your poetry:

          “Lonely dog” will be published on 12/30/22 at 1am Eastern Time (ET)

          Below is the link to it once published:

          https://spillwords.com/lonely-dog/

          LONELY DOG

          written by: Jake Cosmos Aller

          @aller_jake

          A lonely dog
          Goes out into the courtyard
          Waiting for his master
          To return home

          Alas false alarm
          His master will not return
          As he has died.

          Of the super plague
          COVID 25
          That killed most people.

          The dogs and cats
          And other animals
          Eventually left
          To fend for themselves.

          But they missed
          Their human friends.

          the End

           

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          January 14, 2023
        • Spillwords Publishes Gun Madness

          Spillwords Publishes Gun Madness

          Spillwords Publishes Gun Madness

          Thank you for your recent submission!

          Below are the publication details to your poetry

          “Dazzling Light of the Full Moon” will be published on 8/21/22 at 2am Eastern Time (ET)

           

           

           

           

          Below is the link to it once published:

          https://spillwords.com/dazzling-light-of-the-full-moon/

          Dazzling Light Of The Full Moon

          The New King Of Humanity Emerges Sunday Whirl

          Deranged Old Priest

          Lonely Dog

          Water, Water Everywhere

          The Full Moon Septolet

          Dazzling Light Of The Full Moon

          Pink Moon

           

           

           

           

           

          Dazzling light of the full moon
          Inspiring the drinkers
          At the cosmos club
          In Bangkok

          Twenty drinks too sober.
          To quit their drinking
          For a moment
          Laying down their beer
          And bourbon shots.
          To rush out onto the street

          Naked wild and free
          Howling at the full moon
          Like escaped banshees
          Mad werewolves.

          The New King of Humanity Emerges

          artoon-devil-satan-businessman-suit-450w-49
          artoon-devil-satan-businessman-suit-450w-49

           

           

           

           

           

           

           

          There is a cosmic crack on the sideways,
          Covers on the ground covering up
          The gateway to the other world. ,
          That comes out of the holes
          In the ground
          Filled with the power
          Of the netherworld.

          The spirits are led
          By a sacred owl
          Who screeches out
          Their plan.

          But first, they sit down
          And have a feast
          Fit for the future king
          Of the world.

          The spirits ache all over
          As they lift their heavy weapons
          Lit the flames
          And destroy the human city.

          Deranged Old Priest

           

           

           

           

           

          A slightly deranged old priest
          Pledged,
          High up in the forest
          That he would resist
          The secret evil powers
          That controlled the world.

          With longer words of despair’
          He continued his prayers
          At a shrine to a magic stone
          Lost in a secret temple
          Deep in the wintergreen trees.

          Remembering with a wry smile,
          All the people around him who were
          greedily pursuing their goals
          of obtaining power at all costs

          and in the process
          losing all traces
          of their humanity

          as the evil forces
          took over their souls.

          Lonely Dog

          A lonely dog
          Goes out into the courtyard
          Waiting for his master
          To return home

          Alas, false alarm
          His master will not return
          As he has died.

          Of the super plague
          COVID 25
          That killed most people.

          The dogs and cats
          And other animals
          Eventually left
          To fend for themselves.

          But they missed
          Their human friends.

          Water, water everywhere

          flood
          flood

           

           

           

           

           

           

          Water, water everywhere
          As the monster rainstorms
          Continued to pound the east coast

          Southeast Asia, and Korea
          Massive thousand-year flood events
          Everywhere.

          Too much water
          With record rain falls
          While out west
          The mega drought continued.

          Europe on Fire
          Amazon on fire
          Greenland ice melting

          Massive forest fires
          Burning everywhere
          As climate change
          Continued a pace.

          Politicians and leaders
          Refusing to do anything
          To stem the crisis.

          Then the ice melted
          The gulf-stream failed
          And the world

          Continued its slide
          Becoming inhospitable
          For human life.

          Billions died,
          The remaining humans
          Moving to underground cities
          As the modern world ended.

          The Full Moon Septolet

          Another Pink Moon

           

           

           

           

           

          the full moon’s
          lunatic light
          shinning on us.

          madmen
          rushing
          howling
          at the moon.

          SPOTLIGHT ON WRITERS – JAKE COSMOS ALLER

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·JUNE 26, 2021

          Spotlight On Writers Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   Where, do you hail from? I grew up in Berkeley,…

          AUTHORSENGLISHPOETRYQ&A

          STRANGERS SLEEPING ON THE STREETS

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·SEPTEMBER 7, 2021

          Strangers Sleeping on The Streets written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   In these sad days of the pandemic…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          EVE EATS THE APPLE

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·JUNE 10, 2021

          Eve Eats The Apple written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   Eve was in the garden Talking with Mr….

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          JUST ENOUGH FOR COFFEE

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·FEBRUARY 9, 2021

          Just Enough for Coffee written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   A homeless man Stood on the street Counting…

          ENGLISHFEATURED POSTPOETRY

          MOCKING FACES STARING AT ME

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·SEPTEMBER 19, 2020

          Mocking Faces Staring at Me written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   Mocking faces hunting my dreams Hundreds of…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          CHAOS

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·JULY 6, 2020

          Chaos written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   the world descends into chaos as our world leaders led by…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          DORA THE INTERGALACTIC EXPLORER

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·APRIL 27, 2020

          Dora The Intergalactic Explorer written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   Dora the intergalactic explorer Is traveling to the…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          EVERYDAY I TURN ON THE NEWS

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·MARCH 26, 2020

          Everyday I Turn On The News written by: Jake Cosmos Aller @Jakecaller   every day I turn on the…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          MORNING LIGHT

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·FEBRUARY 12, 2020

          Morning Light written by: Jake Cosmos Aller   the terrors of the night the worst imaginings of what might…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          RAMBLING MAN, WHERE IS YOUR HOME?

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·SEPTEMBER 7, 2018

          Rambling Man, Where is your Home? written by: Jake Cosmos Aller   Where is my home? Where do I…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          DARK DANGEROUS THOUGHTS

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·AUGUST 19, 2018

          Dark Dangerous Thoughts written by: Jake Cosmos Aller   An old man wakes up Confronting the dark dangerous thoughts…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          IN SEARCH OF AMERICA – HITCHHIKING TALES

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·JULY 31, 2018

          In Search of America Hitchhiking Tales written by: Jake Cosmos Aller   When I was young and foolish Broke…

          ENGLISHPOETRY

          BUS RIDES IN AMERICA’S UNDERBELLY

          JAKE COSMOS ALLER·JULY 13, 2018

          Bus Rides In America’s Underbelly written by: Jake Cosmos Aller   the Bus – Travels Through America’s Underbelly I…

          Some More Recently Published Poetry

          Synchronized Chaos Update

          The End

           

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          August 20, 2022
        • April 22, 2022 Poems

          April 22, 2022 Poems

          The April Poetry madness is more than half over.  I am determined to finish by May 1!  (Given that the prompts I use are posted in the U.S. and that I am in KST time I will be finished April 30, 2022 EST),   I have some other poetry publication news.  Poetry Super Highway published my poem on visiting the holocaust museum for their annual Yom HaShoah issue. You can read that here

          Thoughts on Visiting the Holocaust Museum

          anti-fascist-2541058__340.web
          anti-fascist-2541058__340.web
          candels
          candles

          Today’s poems (April 22) follow:

          Friday Day 22:

          Met His Fate That Date NaPoWriMo

          Sam Adams
          Often thought
          He had met his fate
          On that date, he met his wife.

          She walked into his life
          The date he met his wife
          Was the best day
          Of his life.

          On the date, he met his wife
          He felt that was the beginning
          Of the rest of his life.

          And now for our prompt (optional, as always). In honor of today’s being the 22nd day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2022, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, an image, or any combination of things.

          Variations on a Theme Fate Dew Drop Inn Writing com Prompt

          I have often thought about fate
          And how and why I met my wife
          The way I did,

          For it seems
          That we were fated
          To meet,

          That we knew each other
          In a past life
          And that our love
          Was strong enough,

          To overcome the barriers
          Of time and space
          That somehow her spirit
          Was calling me.

          Appearing in my dreams
          For eight years
          Until she walked
          Off that bus
          And into my life.

          That is why
          I believe in reincarnation
          It is the only way
          I can make sense
          Of this improbable, impossible
          Fairy tale love story.

          Coffee Trinet Coffee PSH

          need more coffee
          need more coffee

          Coffee
          Just hot
          drinking it at sunrise
          Just right.
          Need more
          Strong Coffee
          Right now!

           

           

          This poetry writing prompt submitted by Patrice M. Wilson:

          Make a pot of tea or coffee in a clear glass pot or container. Pour cream or milk into it. Carefully watch cream or milk swirl into the dark liquid. Write about what you see and any associations with it. You could also try this with anything that swirls, e.g., water going down a drain. Have fun!

          If you write a poem from this prompt, post it as a comment below.
          #napowrimo #poetry

          Lion King Revolts Writer’s Digest

          lion
          lion

          The Lion King
          Looked out at the assembled animals
          In the first ever worldwide parliament
          Of animals.

           

           

          The lion king chaired the conference
          Which was called to discuss
          The weighty issue
          Of what to do about humanity.

          Which was rapidly destroying
          The habitat of the entire planet
          Making it unfit for life
          For any organisms.

          The lion king recognized
          His cousin, the Siberian Tiger
          The tiger rose to speak

          Denouncing humanity
          As the greatest threat
          To life itself.

          He demanded the right
          To hunt down and kill
          All humans.

          As enemies of the world’s ecological system,
          Saying that Gaia was crying out
          For revenge.

          The animals all debated the question
          Finally, the lion king turned
          To the sole defenders of humanity
          The cat and dog representatives.

          The cat shrugged its shoulder
          saying,

          “Meh, I suppose humans are alright.,
          They treat cats right”.

          The dog made a passionate defense
          Of their best friends, the humans
          Saying that they were trying to mend
          Their evil, greedy ways.

          And deserved a second chance
          as did all God’s creatures,
          Great and small.

          The lion king called for a vote
          The vote was 250 to two.

          The lion king announced the verdict
          Saying,
          All humans must die.

          That was the day
          Of the great animal revolt
          That led to the fall
          Of humanity.

          For today’s prompt, write an organism poem. The cool thing about our planet is that it is loaded with a variety of living organisms, from one-celled prokaryotes and eukaryotes to complex creatures (like blue whales and rhinos). Write about several organisms, or pick one and make it the title of your poem.

          Note: this is part of a series of similar magical realism poems I should put together someday as a collection.

          Mentee Best JO’s  Local Gem

          I sometimes think back
          When I was working
          And think back
          What sort of boss was I?

          What impact did I have
          On those who worked for me.
          I had my favorite employees

          And I like to think
          That I was not that bad a boss
          At least I was not
          An evil SOB boss
          Like some of the bosses
          That I have known

          That I was fair
          Open-minded
          And looked after
          My employees

          Making sure that they got
          The support they needed
          To do well in their career.

          The End

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          April 23, 2022
        • Cosmos Faith Journey

          Cosmos Faith Journey

          Cosmos’s Faith Journey

          god
          god

          Encounters with God

          Cosmic Cat from Berkeley

          evil cat
          evil cat
          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/cosmic-cat-from-Berkeley-.mp3

          Meeting God In a  Lake

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/meeting-god-in-a-lake.mp3

          Meeting God in Bombay

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/meeting-God-in-Bombay.mp3

          Voice Message From God

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/voice-message-for-God.mp3

          Conversation with God About Corona Virus

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/conversations-with-the-Gods-About-Corona-Virus.mp3

          God Does Not Talk to Idiots

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/god-does-not-talk-to-idots-1.mp3

          Agnostic Dog Wonders if there is a God

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/agnostic-dslexic-wonders-if-there-is-a-dog.mp3

          God’s Message to Reverend Baaker

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/gods-message-to-Reverend-Baaker.mp3

           

           

          In my 66 years on this earth, I have learned a few things, because I have seen a few things.  I grew up n a very secular town, in a very secular era.  The late 60s in Berkeley was a time when everything was being challenged, questioned, debated and the issue of God came up frequently.  Was God still relevant in this modern era?

          Most of my friends were agnostic at best, don’t recall having any Christian friends, Most were Jewish though and one was a Mormon.  Most were white, but I had a few black friends as well, a few of them were Christian.

          My mother was born a southern baptist, she was kicked out of church for asking the forbidden question, “If God created the universe, who created God?” the preacher was not amused and kicked her out for being a “free thinker” which to a Baptist was a very bad thing indeed, especially in Arkansas in the late 30s.

          My father was a devote athiest, grew up in Yakima in a Methodist family, but just did not see God anywhere. An economist believing in economic laws, he was materialistic and deterministic, God simply did not compute for him.

          They told us it was up to us to determine what to believe because they disagreed. But in the end, it came down to this, “Do the right thing”  but it was up to us to determine what that might be.

          I went to a few church services. but it just did not stick, did not get the whole shebang, did not believe in the Virgin Mary, the crucifixion, and other Christian dogma felt it was all just ancient irrelevant fairy tales.  I shared my father’s materialistic worldview and my mother’s skepticism regarding Church teachings. She was pleased though when I told her I had started reading the bible.

          For a while, I became a militant athiest, hung out at a, debating with Holly Hubert and the street preachers who were there. I shocked the Christian fanatics with my athiest stand-up comedy routines.

          One day Jehovah’s witness came to my house.  I told them I would love to talk with them but I was late for a Satanist meeting and invited them to join me. They fled in terror.

          Later in college, I had a roommate, who took too much acid and became convinced he was God.  We spend many nights smoking weed and debating the existence or non-existence of God.  He had grown up as a Jehovah witness.  His parents blamed us for their son’s descent into madness and promised to pray for us but said we would go to hell for the sin of questioning God’s will.

          In college, I took a course on modern religions. As a sociology student, I studied the Unification church’s recruitment practices and went to their recruitment dinner, but wisely did not go their weekend retreat, otherwise, perhaps I might have been converted and become a Moonie.

          I even went to a Scientology center took their free personality test and concluded it was all a scam.  Liked to hang out with Hari Krishna dudes joining them for public chanting.

          Started reading the bible in my world religion class, but took me almost 30 years before I finished reading the bible, and all the other spiritual texts, on the eve of my 50th year. Started with the Book of Mormon and ended with the Koran after reading the Buddhist writings, the Hindu scriptures, the Confucian classics, and the Tao De Ching.

          Had to finally skip over the entire genesis begat stories, saying to myself

          “What’s the point?”

          Concluding the bible was badly edited. Just a  collection of fairy tales, not fit for the modern world, but revelations fascinated me.

          When I went to Korea in the Peace Corps, I became fascinated by the subtle interplay between traditional Buddhism, shamanism, neo-Confucianism principles

          And the resurgence of aggressive Christianity, and the new religious fervor of Reverend Moon, the unification church, and other new religions.

          Spend some time at Buddhist temples, even spend a few nights hanging out with the monks decades before the formal temple stay programs became popular among foreign tourists.

          I had an encounter with shamanism when my uncle-in-law died, they did a shaman “kut” ritual. the shaman a female channeled his spirit. He came to the room berated us all, cursed us all from his perch in hell, That was such a freaky experience we had to flee the demented scene.

          I had a few mystical experiences, once in college I saw God in a lake,  But that was probably just the magic of the magic mushrooms, doing its mushroom thing.

          Once while I was hanging out in Berkeley, I encountered a cosmic cat, I saw the divine spark In his eyes, as he followed me everywhere. I told my mother who was suffering from Alzheimer’s about the cosmic cat, she concurred he was indeed a cosmic cat.

          Later in Goa, I encountered a cosmic dog who followed me everywhere.  I asked the cosmic dog once,

          “Say, Cosmic dog, are you god? Bark once if yes, two if no.”

          He barked once.

          “Are you Allah?  Bark once if yes, two if no.”

          He barked once.

          “Are you Buddha?  Bark once if yes, two if no”

          He barked once.

          “Are you the great spirit of the American indians? Bark once if yes, two if no”

          He barked once.

          “Are you Satan?  Bark once if yes, two if no.”

          He growled at me and I knew I had gone too far.

          When I was in Thailand, I continued my exploration of Buddhism visiting most of the famous Buddhist sites there, later in Taiwan, Vietnam, and India as well.

          When I lived in India, I became immersed in the spiritual energy all around me
          I became a fan of the big Ganesh, he removed spiritual obstacles, allowing me to connect to the divine spirit all around me.  I felt that cosmic vibe, just flowing through the world.

          While in India, I attended a few Catholic services, other Christian services, went to Hindu temples, Jain temples, Sikh temples and even a few Muslim pilgrim sites.  I also fasted during Rammadam and went totally vegan to observe lent.

          Now that I am an old man, I think back on what I have learned from my spiritual journeys. I think I can sum it up as follows:

          I believe that the universe is alive, and I am part of the divine mind, the universe God if you would, flows through us all. If only we have the eyes, to see the divine all around us.

          The Christian faith, like all other faiths, is just an attempt to discover the God of the universe. It is all the same path we are on, trying to connect to the cosmic overmind of the universe.

          Whether you are an atheist, a Buddhist, a Christian, a Jain,  a Jew, a Harri Krishna, a humanist, a Hindu, a Moonie, a Mormon, a Muslim, a Pagan or a Wiccan devote, we are all cosmic fools, seekers of the truth.  The truth is out there for us to discover it for ourselves.

          But in the end, it comes down to this simple principle, we have to decide
          to always do the right thing, but that is a decision, only we can make deep in our soul.

          Whether heaven or hell is awaiting us I do not know. Whether Jesus is the son of God I do not know. Whether Mohammed was the last prophet of God I do not know. Whether Allah is waiting for me, I do not know. Whether the grim reaper will be coming for me I do not know.

          But I am ready for the final stage of my life. In the end, I also know this: I knew my wife in a prior life, and I will see her in my next life. That is the operation of fate, of karma, and reincarnation, which I do believe in. The adage, what goes around comes around is a simple basic fact of the universe.

          That is all that I know for sure.  That is what I believe.  In the end, always

          “Do the right thing,”

          and the rest will follow.

           

          comments

          Comments

           

          Jim Davidson

          I know there’s more to that Scientology personality test story because I was there. Those tests were top secret, and they never published them or allowed anyone to carry them outside of the Scientology Center. You and (I think) Robert and I went into the Center and started taking the test. Then you told the people administering the test that you wanted to go outside for a minute for a smoke. You surreptitiously slipped the test into your pocket and we walked out, not intending to return. About a block away, one of the Scientology people came running after us, demanding the test back, and you gave it to him. So we (you) were foiled in the attempt to steal the test.

           

          You’ve been on a fascinating journey, Jake! It all makes perfectly good sense.

           

           

          I  was raised a Catholic, but I respect all religions and non-believers. Reconciling science and the history of men with the biblical Adam and Eve, as well as noting that there are so many people with different beliefs, have made me question my beliefs. I agree that we need to do the right thing (as our conscience dictates). I’m not sure of reincarnation, but I watch Korean dramas and am fascinated by reincarnation stories. May I share your story with my friends?

           

           

          Thank you for sharing that, Cosmo! I have also sought to deconstruct what was given me and see what’s under the hood, so to speak. And that’s not just a Berkeley thing.  It might have to do with having parents of different beliefs. My father too was a fairly strict atheist, a scientist, and a researcher who had studied history and concluded religion was mainly a tool for control. Whereas my mother was always a seeker who came from a non-religious family and churched herself as a teenager, then turned to the church when her child died. She became something of a pantheist, utilizing Christianity, Scientology, and various forms of unity consciousness and Native American beliefs in her journey. Years later I concluded my impulse to bridge the scientific and faithful outlooks was an expression of the child wanting to bring his divorced parents back together, but now it’s just important to me to remain open to possibilities and alternative explanations. Via some of the people I’ve known, I’ve witnessed a few things my skeptical impulse can never entirely explain. Your conclusions and mine are the same.

          1

          John H Seabury

          Me too, pretty much. But I didn’t do all that studying. Witchy Tai To, everything is everything.

          Like

          Robert Sicular Ah yes, Bearism, a simple religion but encompassing great wisdom.

          https://wikiality.fandom.com/wiki/Bearism…

          WIKIALITY.FANDOM.COM

          Bears


          Hello uncle- I have always loved listening/reading about your travels and experiences. My Mom loved you and looked up to you as well. I relate as someone who’s Dad was excommunicated Catholic and whose mom said “choose for yourself”. I visited many churches/religious events, still do, and have read a lot. There are many things I do not know, but the things I feel I do know- are relatable. I remember being with Grandma when dementia set in and I was losing “my person” I remember reading your early college work and thinking “if he can do it, so can I” as I was struggling with adult ADHD & dyslexia recently discovered but had been there the entire time. I struggled in some areas but I persevered. Part of my love for other cultures came from you, and despite “and because of” living in a small racist county

          The End

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          November 20, 2021
        • Only in SF

          Two Drops of Ink Publishes Recent Poems

          mouse riding a cat riding a dog in SF

          Only In SF

          For some reason I recalled a strange site, I recently saw in SF about seven years ago. The photos were taken recently .

          Only in San Francisco

          One day
          While driving down Geary Blvd.
          Near Union Square
          at sunset

          I saw something
          That one would only
          See in San Francisco

          I saw a strange site
          A sight that haunted my vision until now
          I saw a white man dressed in leather
          With a purple mohawk
          Walking his dog down the street

          Riding on top of the dog was a cat
          And riding on the cat
          Was a white lab rat

          All were getting along
          Were obviously friends
          As they walked down the street

          We all said
          Only in San Francisco
          City of St Francis

          would we see such a sceen.

           

           

           

          ne.

          th

           

           

           

           

          the e

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          June 11, 2021
        • Encounters with God

          Encounters with God

          Encounters with God

          Hypertext publishes “God” Poems

          The HyperTexts

          Cosmos 2020 April Poetry Part TwoCosmos 2020 April Poetry Part Two
          Cosmic Dreams and NightmaresCosmic Dreams and NightmaresDog’s Life poems about dogsDog’s Life poems about dogs

          Note:  I am not particularly that religious a person but I have had several encounters with God,  spiritual encounters with a divine spirit, what I consider to be ‘God” but not in the Christian sense of ” God”.   I used to be a an atheist but after these encounters I realized that there is something out there besides humanity.  Perhaps the whole universe is alive somehow? Who knows? I certainly do not.  Here then are several of my encounters with God.  I’ve had a few others which I will write some day.

          these have been published in Scarlet Leaf Review and other journals as well as Hypertext which just published them.

          enjoy and drop me a line if you wish.

          Meeting God in a Lake

          god
          god

           

           

           

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/meeting-god-in-a-lake.mp3

          In my 64 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 my quest to find God resumed

          But I knew that I would never again
          Come so close to the divine essence
          Of the very Universe

          The Cosmic Cat from Berkeley

          black cat
          black cat
          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/cosmic-cat-from-Berkeley-.mp3

          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 coffee
          Did yoga

          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 started 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 on our endless conversations

          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 Goodbye to the cosmic cat
          And he purred and came up to me
          And I felt the comforting presence of the Divine

          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

          Talking with God in Bombay

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/meeting-God-in-Bombay.mp3

          Five years later
          After I had last talked to God
          In the form of the cosmic cat

          Who I hung out with in Berkeley
          I found myself in Bombay, India

          Where I was involved with another women
          And contemplating whether to leave my wife
          For the promised excitement of the other women

          I did not know what to do
          So I went to Church
          And on the way home

          I stopped on the side of the road
          And prayed to God
          to provide me a sign

          What should I do
          I asked God
          And then I felt it again

          God seemed to be everywhere
          And nowhere
          And I found myself down
          the rabbit hole again

          I had a vision of an old man
          Sitting by the side of a bed
          Looking at an old women

          And realized that
          I was seeing the future
          And the women
          in my vision was my wife

          And then I knew the answer
          that God was giving me

          I had to find my way
          Back to my wife
          And rekindle the love
          that we shared

          I looked up
          and saw my wife’s face
          In the sky

          I went home and wrote
          A long poem for my wife

          She was in the military
          And in Korea
          And I was with the State Department
          Stationed in Mumbai, India

          And I called her up
          And began talking to her
          For the first time
          In a long time

          And I told her what was on my mind
          And told her that we had to decide
          Would we continue as a couple
          Or would we continue to drift apart

          Somehow I finished the conversation
          And fell asleep with the peace and contentment
          Of God’s presence filling my heart and soul

          The feeling of being connected with God
          Faded over the time
          But the conviction that God had spoken to me
          Never really left me

          I asked God
          whether God was the God of Jesus
          Or Allah or Brahmin
          And I realized
          that God is God

          And the universe is God and I am God
          And that was the end of the story
          And my last time I prayed to God

          The Cosmic Dog from Goa

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/cosmic-dog-from-Goa-mp3.mp3

          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 a King 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 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

          Buddha Cat of Edsall Road

           

           

           

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/buddha-cat.mp3

          I had another encounter
          With the divine recently
          Another Cosmic cat perhaps

          Perhaps not
          who knows what cats are

          are they aliens
          from another dimension
          or was he channeling God ?

          I called him the Buddha cat
          For the cat loved
          Sitting in a meditative pose

          Not moving
          Just starting at me
          With his soulful deep eyes
          Boring into my soul
          exploring all my secret thoughts

          the Buddha cat does not move
          does not react, as he is so deep
          into his interior mediation
          truly in tune with the cat universe
          and the cosmos as well

          the Buddha cat
          seems to be one with God
          one with Buddha, Allah, Ganesh
          and the billion names of God
          Known and unknown

          The Buddha cat can teach us all
          About the art of meditation

          As he zones inward
          And loses his soul
          Joining the cosmos
          And becoming the Buddha cat

          The Buddha cat
          Lives in a modest Town house
          In a modest suburb

          The Buddha cat reminds us all
          To look for God in the everyday
          All around us
          If we but have eyes
          To see God everywhere

          The HyperTexts

           

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          April 24, 2020
        • 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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/2019-the-Year-that-was-.mp3

          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/the-terrifying-Teens-.mp3

          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/dreams.mp3

          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/fate.mp3

          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/the-oyster-speaks-up.mp3
          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/dogs-of-war.mp3
          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/idiots-in-hight-places-.mp3
          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/masters-of-the-Universe-.mp3

          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/end-of-the-world-blues.mp3

           

          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

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          January 24, 2020
        • poetry super highway free chapbook

          poetry super highway free chapbook

          Poetry Superhighway Free Ebook Contest

          poetry super highway link  

          thanks so much to the 48 people who downloaded my second chapbook.  I participated last year but fewer people took advantage of the download because i did not promote the contest enough. this year more people participated.  I will do this annually along with my annual April Poetry poem a thon and the NaNoWrMo contest.  Keep it up as long as I can.

          If you have not downloaded the poems they are available below.

          here’s the link to the downloads

          DOWNLOAD 38 POETRY E-BOOKS FOR FREE NOW!

          The 15th annual Poetry Super Highway E-book Free-For-All is on now. 38 e-books have been donated by poets from all over the world and they are now available to download for the next 24 hours for free. Click HERE to get your free e-fill.

          This is a limited time offer…the free download links will disappear tonight at midnight (pacific – the evening of December 1st) and we’ll post a new page shortly thereafter letting everyone know how many times each book was downloaded.

          So get to that e-book downloading now…it’s a free-for-all!

          Poetry Super Highway

           

          Please consider downloading my chapbook April Poem a Thon Poems on December 1, 2019 from the Poetry Super Highway site. I am again taking part in their annual free poetry chapbook contest. My book contains my 2019 April poems, the 2018 and 2017 poems along with audio and photos can be found on my web page https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com. and consider downloading all the other fine poets participating.

          LAST DAY to Join the Great E-Book Free-For-All!

          30 e-books have been sent in for the Poetry Super Highway’s 15th Annual Great E-Book Free-For-All so far! Join in! Send us your e-book TODAY by 10pm and we’ll add it to the pile of e-books which will be freely available to download by anyone on earth for 24 hours starting tonight at midnight! (pacific)…a free-for-all. The deadline to join with your ebook is TONIGHT, Saturday evening, November 30, at 10:00 pm (pacific).

          Feedspot has added my poetry blog to their list of 100 . Please take a look at the list of poetry blogs and sign up for as many as you can, and of course, if you have not yet signed up for my blog please do so now.

          feedspot link

          the 2019 chapbook follows below

          April Poem a Thon Poems

          In 2017, I participated in my first April Month of Poetry poetry challenge with Tiferet Journal, and copied to All Poetry, Poetry Soup and writing.com  posted all on my blog along with photos and audio links, in 2018 I again submitted poems through Tiferet Journal, but in 2019 just posted on All poetry, poetry soup and writing.com  and on my blog of course..

          Comments and feedback greatly appreciated.  I intent to make this an annual creative project and keep going as long as I can. 

          Due to size restrictions, I am only posting 2019 poems,  The 2017, 2018 and 2019 poems are available on my web page along with photos and audio. 

          April 2019 Poem a Thon

          Index

          63 Years Haut 

          A penitent Considers another Coming of Mary 

          Springtime in Seoul 

          today just for today

          Agnostic Dyslectic Wonders if There is a Dog

           It Can’t Happen Here or Has it? 

          So Excited to Be Alive at 63 all poetry

          Trump

          It’s a Dog’s Life 

          Scorpio Passion all poetry

          Just an Unhinged Werewolf Howling at the Moon 

          Glow  creative talent unleashed prompt 

          Old Lady and the Genie 

          Coffee Love Hate Affair

          Coffee Blues

          Morning Thoughts

          Santa James Came to Town

          Love Chinquapin 

          Nightmare butterfly chinquapin 

          Dedication to the Women I love

          The Art of Stealing Money, anatomy of a bank scam  

          Incheon Beach   waltz wave poem

          California Burning Bright

           Shaman Prays for Humanity  

           Catching the Trump Fever

          Releasing the Trump Monsters

          President Trump, International Fire Fighter in Chief

          Licenses 

          Darker Than You Think

          Berkeley Balanced 

           Springtime in Yeongjongdo 

          Four Haiku and One Tanka

          Life of an Exiled Poet Wandering the Mountains

          Walking Down the Snowing Path

          Here We Go Again

          NRA Stop Talking 

          2019 Poems

          note:   see 2019  poems page for audio and photos

          April 2019 Poems

          end note

           

          April 1, 63 Years Haut

          63 years old  

          taught me a few things 

          life is 

          to short

          to carry a grudge

          live and love a lot 

          April 1 A penitent Considers another Coming of Mary

          I sometimes wonder about the Virgin Mary

          I sometimes wonder about the Virgin Mary

          Wonder who she was and what she may

          Have had to do with the birth of the savior

          For I do not believe that story today

          or any day for that matter I can not  leave 

          these thoughts that hang in the air 

          thinking that she must have been with men

          and will be with them again

          April 1, Today 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

          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

          April 2 It Can’t Happen Here or Can 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 

          April 3 So Excited to Be Alive

          I wake up

          with the dawning sun

          so excited

          to be alive

          at age 63

          I look at my sleeping beauty

          and realize yet again

          my life began

          the 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

          April 4th Trump

          Triumphed against all enemies

          Remaining unvanquished

          Uniting all who oppose him 

          Might makes right 

          Patriots unite behind the Great Leader 

          April 4th I Want a Dog’s Life

          I want a dog’s life 

          That’s what I want in next life

          A dog needs to be cute

          And his master will feed him 

          It is a dog’s life for me 

          April 4th 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

          April 4th Scorpion Nights 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 

          April 5th GLOW

          Glowing light of the dawning sun

           Lights up my dismal room 

           Overwhelming me with love 

           Watching my dream girl sleep  

          April 6th The Old Lady 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 

          April 6th 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 Winnemucca

          Where I got off 

          And found my bus pass

          Had found another owner

          And I went to Salt Lake City

          Still trapped in the back of the bus

          April 6th 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 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

          April 6 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 up

          Flying 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 not 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

          Not the same thing at all

          But that is all I can handle

          As I am a coffee addict 

          And always will be 

          April 6 Coffee Blues

          Coffee is my drug of choice

          Always has been

          Ever since I first tried

          As a young lad

          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 you 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

          April 7th 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 8  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 win

          ​Anatomy of a legal Bank Scam 

          Not too long ago

          One trusted the banks

          And the government

           

          With your money,

          your stocks

          Your investments

          Your financial life

           

          Then the states discovered

          That if you claim

          Because you did not look at your account

          Or perform an activity

           

          They can send it to the State

          Where it goes

          into the lost property division

          And the State can sell your assets

           

          The banks are required to notify you

          they never send you a letter

          They falsely claim

          They don’t have your address

           

          Yet three months

          before they had sent you a statement

          which did not bounce

           

          so you received it

          three months later

          without your knowledge or permission,

           

          the bank declares

          your property has been abandoned

          violating their own rules

          they have to wait three years

          of no “activity”

           

          but they send it in after 15 months

          why ?

          because they can

           

          because you are nothing to them

          but small cash they can steel

          Then the State sends you

          An official-looking letter

          That screams fraud

          You call the Bank Fraud’s office

           

          They claim

          It was a bogus letter

          Your account is just fine

          And you do nothing

           

          Until the banks confirm

          Oh yes we sent your funds

          To the state

          As per our strict rules

           

          They did nothing wrong

          You see

          Did not know how to contact you

          They falsely claim

           

          The state tells you file

          A claim

          and because the amount is relatively small

          no lawyer will help you

           

          and the banks

          will laugh at you

          for trusting them

          to do the right thing

           

          the true bank robbers

          are the banks

          and the crooked states

          working in cahoots

           

          who love to steal

          your money

          because well they can

          and they  just did

           

          caveat emptor

          my friends

          the banks are not your friend

          they will rip you off

           

          with endless nonsensical fees

          and rules

          and red tape

          and blame you for complaining

           

          eventually, you may recover

          your funds

          After a long fight

          perhaps not

           

          welcome to American banking world

          where financial crime

          is not a crime

          in the land of the no longer free

           

          Jake Aller

          one of your millions of customers

          you screwed over

          ​

          Ugh

          April 9 Love Chinquapin

          My Love

          Haunting my dreams

          Nightly talking to me 

          Then walked out of the dreams into 

          my Life

          April 10th Nightmare Butterfly Chinquapin

          Night mares

          Endless fears all night long

          Huge Monsters chasing me

          Hideous Creatures from Hell Itself

          Monsters

          Fiendish Hell hounds escaped Banishes

          screaming bloody murder

          they chase me all the way

          I die

          April 10  Nightmare Chinquapin

          Night mares 

          Endless fears all night long 

          Can’t escape running from these dreams

          All night  

          April 11 Dedication Poem to the women in my Dreams

          Dedicated to the woman of my Dreams

          women

          lives in my dreams

          I dedicate this poem

          You came out of my nightly dreams 

          My Love

          My Love

          I dreamt of you 

          For eight long years starting 

          Dream of you in 79 met in

          82

          82

          We met in that year

          Love at first sight I knew

          You were the one for me my dream girl

          My Love

          The Art of Stealing Money –Anatomy of a Bank Scam

          The bankers 

          God rest their evil souls

          Have mastered the art

          Of stealing 

          Their client’s money

          Through one means or another

          Your money

          Is their money

          And their money 

          Is none of your business

          Recently we fell victim 

          To such a scam

          We had stocks in a bank

          But we failed 

          To actively manage the account

          And the bank said 

          Because we had not acted

          On the account 

          Over three years 

          We had abandoned the account

          We fell victim 

          to such a scam 

          The bank 

          was supposed to

          To contact us

          But they lied, 

          claimed

          That they did not know

          Where we were

          And could not contact us

          Thus, our account 

          disappeared 

          Into the hands 

          Of the greedy 

          State of Delaware

          We have to reclaim

          The money

          That the bank

          Through their mistake

          Sent to Delaware

          If the bank 

          makes a mistake

          You loose

          If you make a mistake

          They win

          That’s all part of the art

          Of stealing your money

          All in a day’s work

          For the evil soul sucking bankers

          The so called masters of the universe

          Incheon Beach Waltz Wave Poem 

          beach

          near home

          now

          sun set

          The West Sea

          Incheon

          sea

          Spring Time

          night sun set

          over the sea 

          Sun goes down 

          near by 

          beach

          water 

          waves come in

          over beach

          view 

          is great

          nice

          California Burning Bright

          California

          burning bright wildfires
          end of the world
          an apocalyptic
          a vision of world’s end

          April 15, 2019  Prayers for the 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

          April 16, 2019

          Why do all fake Natives call themselves “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

          Catching the Trump Madness

          It seems that every day

          The trump madness deepens

          As our leader descends 

          Into dementia and madness

          And his followers continue 

          To follow having drunk the Kool aide

          They don’t see the madness 

          That Trump has engendered

          They are immune from all criticism

          It is all fake news to them

          Nothing but nonsense

          Part of the anti-Trump cabal

          And as the world descends 

          Into more madness

          Led by the mad king 

          I despair

          Wondering if and when

          The world will wake up

          And shake off this madness

          This trump fever

          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

          The Trump madness never ends

          President Trump International Fire Fighter in 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.

          Licenses

          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 public

          its 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

          Balanced in Berkeley

          Born in Berkeley, California

          a product of the wild 70’s

          just a lost white brother 

          hanging about 

          downtown 

          brothers

          can you hang about  

          listen to me  lover

          wildness left from the 60’des 

          want to fly away from California  

          brothers

          leave the 60’s

          ride away my lover 

          can you dig that without a doubt

          born in Berkeley, California 

          It is Darker Than You Think

          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

          Spring Time Sketch in Youngjongdo, Korea

          In the early morning dawn

          I like to go for a walk

          Down among the cherry trees

          And flowering plants

          Just to welcome

          Another fine spring day

          As the sun comes up

          Dispelling my dismal mood

          And filling me 

          With love

          Hope and peace

          As I walk the path

          Of the world peace forest

          Near my island home

          Near the chaos of the airport

          Through the forest

          and over the mountain

          breathing the spring time air

          alive filled with life

          and I think to myself

          this moment 

          is the moment

          that I am meant to experience

          life itself

          and nothing more

          nothing less

          Just breath in life 

          Four Haiku

          walking on the path
          in the world peace forest
          snowing cherry trees

          the world at peace
          walking with love of my life
          all is right with me

          the falling cherry trees
          along the path of the forest
          reminds us of love

          endless noise on TV
          quiet on the path outside
          peace in my soul

          Dangerous Times Tanka

          in dangerous times
          we retreat to our corners
          convinced we are right
          everyone else is evil
          everyone else must die

          Hidden Jewels in Seoul

          In Seoul

          A vibrant thriving city

          Of a million stories

          Of a million tales 

          There are hidden jewels

          All around the city

           

          The city is laced 

          With secret mountain paths

          Only the locals know 

           

          Where these paths go

          As the mountain paths

          Criss cross the city

           

          Every neighborhood

          Has their mountain

           

          At the top

          Lies the exercise equipment

          And old men and woman

           

          Perhaps the guardian angels

          Of the mountain

           

          Mountain spirits 

          Stand guard 

          At the top of the mountain

           

          Looking down 

          At the teaming masses

           

          Old men and woman

          Walk about 

          In the trails

           

          High in the mountains

          The city is also laced

          With canals and stream beds

           

          Everywhere you wander

          You are not far from water ways

           

          The secret trails cover the city

          Yet the city does not seem 

          To know how to promote

           

          These wondrous trails

          Yes, the city of Seoul

          Is filled with hidden treasures

          Hidden gems

          Deep in the mountains 

           

          As I walk in the hills

          Lost in thought

           

          The cherry trees 

          Snowing all around

           

          I reflect again

          On the hidden gems

          The hidden trails

          The hidden treasure of Seoul 

          Life of an Exiled Poet Wandering the Mountains

          I am living a lonely life

          Exiled from my home land

          A stranger in a strange land 

          Far from where I grew up 

          Searching for what I lost 

          Just an exiled poet

          Wandering the mountains

          Deep in thought

          Wondering what 

          Adventures wait me 

          As I wander the mountain paths

          Wandering here and there 

          Just searching for my lost life

          Wondering where my life 

          Has gone so terribly wrong 

          And why I am on this path 

          I see on the mountain path

          A secret climbing cave

          And I enter the cave

          Hoping to find

          A portal 

          Back to my lost world

          To my lost time

          To the beginning

          Of my journal

          The beginning

          Of my long exile 

          But I can’t find 

          My way back

          And am soon lost 

          And so I become

          A ghost like figure

          A lost soul of the damn

          Doomed to wander 

          The world 

          Wandering the mountains

          Lost in dark thoughts 

          Forever exiled

          From my love 

          Walking Down the Frozen White Path

          walking down the frozen white path

          as the evening starts to falls 

          as I walk in the snow and talk

          listening to the bird calls

          filling the air with the music of Bach 

          I find myself getting lost 

          as I continue my lonely walk

          death waits heading to the end of time 

          As I walk the snowing cold path

          the dark evil evening continues to fall

          the very stars are on the war path

          lightening the up air as they fall 

          littering the ground with their cosmic sprawl

          as the dying sun sets into the dark night 

          I come upon an ancient ruined wall 

          No one around as the end time approaches 

          I continue my lonely dismal walk 

          Rushing towards the end of time

          no more time for mere talk 

          death waits heading to the end of time

          Here We Go Again

          In a few short months
          The political silly season
          Will be upon us

          As the nation
          And world
          Prepares to choose

          The next leader
          Of these disunited States
          Of America

          Will the people
          Wake up
          And toss

          The boy child president
          Out on his proverbial butt?

          Will sanity prevail
          And reason return
          To the body politic?

          One can only hope
          But I fear
          That the Trumpmeister

          And the dark shadow figures
          Behind him

          Have many cards
          Up their proverbial sleeves

          And they know
          That the game is rigged
          They know how it is played
          And they know

          Where the bodies are buried
          For they buried the bodies

          And are prepared
          To do
          Whatever it takes

          To ensure
          Their buddy

          Their clown show
          Enabler

          Will be reelected
          So that they can continue
          To rape, and pillage
          The earth

          Making gazzilions
          Of dollars
          As the world burns
          And civilization grinds
          To a halt

          They will find a way
          To escape
          They are the ultimate survivors
          After all

          And they never
          Get voted off the island
          Because they own the island
          The TV station
          And everyone’s soul

          And so, here we go again
          And again

          Until the end of time itself
          A constant battle

          Against the dark evil forces
          Conspiring against common good

          To them
          We are just cogs
          In the machinery
          Mere inputs

          They don’t care
          About you or me
          All they care about
          Is how much they
          Money they can make
          Off of you

          Strap in
          Here we go again
          The ride will get bumpy
          Before it is all over

          NRA Please Stop Talking

          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
          Poisionous 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
          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 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

          in the end
          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 stooges

          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

          The End

          April 2017 Poem A Thon  – available on my web page only, with audio and photo clips

          2017 April Poems

          Index

          1. April 1 Berkeley California
          2. April 2 Lithia Springs
          3. April 3 Walls
          4. April 4 Changes
          5. April 5 Facing Life’s Challenges Together
          6. April 6 Wagon tire, Oregon 
          7. April 7 Watching Cats Hunt
          8. April 8 Landlord Blues
          9. April 9 Pane e circus 2017 Redux
          10. April 10 Long Live Emperor Donald the Ist
          11. April 11 3 Am Nightmares
          12. April 12 Zombie Apocalypse
          13. April 13 Spring Doositsu for Angela Poem a Thon
          14. April 14 Love Jones
          15. April 15 Kim Vs. Trump Twitter War 
          16. April 16 Why I am not a Christian Easter Thoughts
          17. April 17 Love Haiku 
          18. April 18 Coffee Haiku
          19. 18 Spring Time in Oregon 
          20. April 19 Cats 
          21. April 20 Secret Agency Man 
          22. April 21 COSTCO People Watching
          23. April 22 The Dogs of War are Howling
          24. April 23 Suburban Laundromat 
          25. April 24, I Want You Right Now
          26. April 25 The Decline of America
          27. April 27 Life is Wonderful 
          28. April 28 Sandwich Choices
          29. April 29 More Coffee Blues
          30. April 30 Rambling Man -Where Do I Belong?

          April 2018 Poem a Thon  – available on web page with audio and photo clips

          April 2018 Poems

          Index

          April 01  Thank God For Angela 

          April 02, 2018  Angela Haiku 

          April 03, 2018  2007 How Much I Despise You 

          April 03 Trump’s Wall Against Reason 

          April 04  It Has been Done Before 

          April 05  Walls Divide Us  

          April 06 Mr. Trump Tear Down this Wall 

          April 07   Angela Lee  

          April 08  Trump

          April 09 Trump 

          April 10 Haiku

          April 11 Hiking in the Spring time Snow 

          April 12  Learning I am Part Jewish 

          April 13 There is Nothing More to be Said

          April 14  Hiking the Hills of My Youth Hanibun 

          April 15 Living with Pain Hanibun

          April 16  Five Signs of the Apocalypse 

          April 17  Emperor Surveys the Eastern Sea 

          April 18  The General Unleashes the Kraken 

          April 19  Plead to the Computer Gods 

          April 20  Number of the Beast  

          April 21  The Neo-Fascists are Let loose 

          April 22  Life In Between 

          April 23  the Light Will Prevail April 

          April 24 April 19   Samonka for Angela 

          April 25  62 Years Young 

          April 26  Married Girl of My Dreams  

          April 27  The Darkness Grows  

          April 28 It was God’s Will They Say 

          April 29  Looking Out My Window 

          April 30 In Search of America – Hitching the USA in 1975 

          April 01  Thank God For Angela

          the end

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          December 1, 2019
        • Dog’s Life poems about dogs

          Dog’s Life poems about dogs

          Literary Yard has just published my Dog Poems. They earlier published my Cosmic Calendar poems.  Here they are for your amusement.  these are a companion piece for my cat poems.

          dogs 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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/its-a-dogs-life-for-me.mp3

          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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/dogs-of-war.mp3

          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 no 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 was 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 go 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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/cosmic-dog-from-goa.mp3

          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 Gannesh 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 to 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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/agnostic-dslexic-wonders-if-there-is-a-dog.mp3

          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

          OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/its-a-dogs-life-for-me-1.mp3

          I want a dog’s life
          That’s what I want in 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

          https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/cosmic-messenger-dog-of-god.mp3


          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

          Poem: Cosmos’s Cosmic Calendar

          BY AUTHOR ON DECEMBER 11, 2017 • ( LEAVE A COMMENT )
          By: Jake Cosmos Allertwelve-months-in-a-year-2-728

          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 snow bound 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
          Spider man 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 fire flies 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 up the land
          Throwing storm after summer storm

          And politicians run away
          After the July forth 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 the 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 strangle hold
          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

          Poem: Falling rain

          BY AUTHOR ON DECEMBER 11, 2017 • ( LEAVE A COMMENT )
          By: Jake Cosmos Allerbig_1486099621_image

          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

          Share this:

          • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • More
          • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
          • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
          • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
          • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
          • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
          • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
          • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
          • Print (Opens in new window) Print
          • Share on Pocket (Opens in new window) Pocket
          • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
          • Share on pinterest (Opens in new window) pinterest

          Like this:

          Like Loading…
          November 17, 2019

        The World According to Cosmos

        poetry and rants by the Cosmos

        • Blog
        • About
        • FAQs
        • Authors
        • Events
        • Shop
        • Patterns
        • Themes

        Twenty Twenty-Five

        Designed with WordPress

         

        Loading Comments...
         

          %d