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Ten Best April 2021 Poems

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Best Ten Poems from April Poetry 2021 Madness

April 25 to April 30 2021 Poems

April 20 to April 25th 2021 Poems

Justice In America, Take That, Ann Coulter!

April 16 to April 20 2021 Poems

April 10 to April 14 2021 Poems

April 1 to April 5 Poems

April 1 to April 5 Poems

Cosmos’s 2020 April Poetry Part One

Cosmos 2020 April Poetry Part Two

April 2019 Poems

April 2018 Poems

2017 April Poems

I wrote 269 poems this month, and 865 for the year to date. A record for me. It would be appropriate to include the first and last poems – both about my love-hate affair with my computer

Index

Every Day I Turn on My Computer Warming Up Writing Digest
Dear Microsoft
Evening Delights
Window of Love
Good-Bye
Howling at the Pink Super Moon in honor of the Pink Super Moon
Unanswered Questions
Bad Teeth Poem
American Dreams -Published in Your One Phone Call
Ode to Berkeley, Writer’s Digest Write a City Poem Prompt

Every Day I Turn on My Computer Warming Up Writing Digest

evil_computer_is_evil_by_insanefangirl_d32vpue-fullview

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For today’s prompt, write a warm-up poem. The warm-up could be related to sports, like warming up before a baseball game or track race. Or it could be about a computer warming up, the weather warming up, or even a relationship warming up. I hope everyone is warmed up for some major poeming in April,

Every Day I Turn on My Computer Warming Up Writing Digest

Every day I turn
On my computer
And pray
That everything will work right

Usually, I encounter numerous errors
Non-response errors
Spinning blue balls
Computer thinking
How can I mess
With my master head errors

Refusing
To open documents
Mysterious haiku-like error messages
That makes sense only to computer geeks
From the planet Mars

Saying the file is open
And blocked for use
By the administrator

But I am the
Damn administrator!
And I did not block the document

Or can’t open the document
Due to a dialogue box
Close the dialogue box
To proceed
But there is no dialogue box

Just more lies
From my computer
Designed to drive me

Quite mad
So sad
So bad

Want to shoot my computer
Put it out of its mystery
Joining the other five dead
Computers in my house

Am I a computer serial killer?
Perhaps that is why
They refuse to work for me?
Are they afraid of me?

Sometimes they say
They can’t find the document
Which just kicked me out of
Five minutes ago

Or the computer says
It can’t save a document
With the name of an open document

But it had just saved the open document
Under the same name
Five minutes ago

Usually
After half an hour
These errors recede
But I often have to reboot
The computer

Giving it the old kick up the head
Of a stubborn mule treatment
Before it gets to the point

And gets to work
To give Microsoft some credit
These errors are less frequent

Down to 40% of the time
When I first open a document
Down from 90% error rates

Success in a way
I complained to Microsoft
Sent them a nice frown message

But I would be shocked
If they ever respond
Just not something

That they would do
Part of their “superior”
Listen to their customer
Friendly service
No doubt

Dear Microsoft

Evil Laptop Computer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday you achieved
An almost impossible feat
In 30 minutes
During 8 attempts

To unsuccessfully open word
I encountered errors each time
I attempted to open word

I was opening the documents
Using viewfinder
Each time viewfinder attempted
To open the document
Only to kick me out

I had to try an average of ten times
Before it would open a stable view
The worst was when
It took me 28 tries

Then when I opened word
I encountered non-response errors
Usually, five to ten
Waiting for an average of one to two minutes
Before word would respond
Before I could type a word or two

And when I did manage
That simple task
The screen froze

Finally, after spending 30 minutes
And writing five words
I rebooted my computer
And finally got
A stable connection

Congratulations Microsoft
For achieving a 100 percent
Error rate
Way to go!

Note: sent to Microsoft.  I will be shocked if they respond! I Will update this if they do so,

Evening Delights Writer’s Digest pormpt- Write an Evening Poem

wine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My favorite time of day
Is early evening
Cocktail hour
When I sit down
To dinner
With my lovely wife
The love of my life
Either at home
Or at a restaurant
After our evening walk
As we eat dinner
We salute the end
Of the day
With a glass of wine
Or a cocktail
Or Soju
As the day fades
Into an evening
Filled with Love

Window of Love

loves at sunrise

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every morning
I step outside
Do my morning thing

While my wife
The love of my life
Sleeps peacefully

I look through the window
From the balcony herb garden
And watch her sleeping

My heart filling with love
As she sleeps away
The early morning

When she wakes up
She fills me
With the sunshine
Of her love

Driving my blues
Away
With the dawning sun

Good-Bye

To all those who
Have passed on
To another,
Hopefully better world

I say goodbye
So many people
Have died this year

From COVID
From Gun violence
From the aging
Of the baby boomer generation

Many musicians
Actors and writers
Have played their last songs
And we will remember them all

Walter Mondale VP, Ambassador, Good guy
Prince Philip ultimate husband
DMX great rapper
George Segal great actor
Vernon Jordan ultimate power player
Norman Jester the phantom tollbooth is closed
Lawrence Ferlinghetti One of my favorite writers

Chick Corea one of my favorite musicians
Mary Wilson just supreme
George Schultz my first big boss
Christopher Plummer the Actor
Larry King final interview
Hank Arron greatest baseball player ever
And so many others

Many will soon joins them
As the coronavirus marches on
and guns continue to kill thousands

I am 65 years old
And as I get older
I have had to say goodbye
To so many people
I am losing count

But I will miss them all
They live on in my memories

My father died in 1985
My mother in 2005
My sister in 2007

My friends have also passed on

My HS debate friend
Demel T died from AIDS
I lost my college roommate
Jon W
David C my Peace course
language student

I lost my visa line colleague
Paul S
I lost my second and third bosses
In the foreign service
Julian in a terrorist bombing
Ted H who I worked with twice
Dead of a heart attack
Chris my boss in Bangkok
Also dead from a heart attack

Judy my artistic friend
From Bombay days
And so many others
Have gone on

I only hope wherever they are
That they are thinking of me
As I think fondly of them

Howling at the Pink Super Moon (In honor of the Pink Super Moon)

 

 

 

 

 

 

On a moonlit late night

The Pink Supermoon
Casting a baleful light
On the world below

While inside
Sam Adams sat drinking
In a depraved bar
In a den of iniquity

In an evil part of the city
On the left side
Of society

Drinking up a storm
With his buddies
Johnny Walker, Jack Daniels
Jim Beam, and Mr. Evan
And Old Granddad looked on

Encouraging him to drink
One scotch, one bourbon, and one beer

He was just an unhinged lunatic
Dreaming of howling at the full moon
Watching the world walk by
Looking at all the fine-looking babes

Walking by the street
Thinking wild, erotic thoughts
Of endless wild libertine passions

He looked up
At the naked dancing ladies
Dancing up a storm
With an attitude
A Z tude
That could kill

When into the bar
Walked the most beautiful women
In the Universe

So wild, so free
So wonderfully alive
He did not know what to do

As this vision of delight
Sauntered through the bar
In skin-tight leather pants
Looked so fine
That his eyeballs hurt

Finally, he had to say something
He gathered up my manly courage
He walked up to her

She looked at him
Instantly bewitched his soul
With a devilish grin

He lost all reason
And became a raving lunatic

Unhinged lunatic
Under the lunatic light of the full moon
Of the blood-red lights of the moon

Full of wild passions
The lustful beast stirs again

And starts running and running
Howling at the moon

Riding into the new dawn
On a demented Harley Davis cycle
With two naked babes on his back

Riding into the moon
90 miles per second
At the speed of thought

He disappears into the lunatic light
Of the full Pink Super moon

Sam Adams woke up alone,
In his bed

The naked babes
Having disappeared
From his demented dreams

Saying,

“Man, that was quite a night
I better not go there again”

The wild beast
Laughs

He has heard that before
And joins him
In howling at the Pink moon

In the fading light
Of the lost last night
Of the newly damned

Unanswered Questions

I have so many questions to ask
First, how and why I dreamt
Of meeting my wife.
How did she haunt my dreams?
How did she come to life?
What was our past life like?
Why Do I fall in love with her every day?
What does love at first sight mean?
Why did that occur to me three times?
What does hate at first sight mean?
Also, three times in my life,
What does that mean?
What is this thing called love anyway?
Will we meet aliens in my lifetime?
Will I live to see humans on Mars?
Will I live long enough?
To walk on the moon.
When will we develop new body parts?
When can I get new teeth?
Finally, when I die
Will there be a heaven or hell?
What will my judgment be?
Finally, will people remember
Me after I die?

Bad Teeth Poem

mouth-of-native-with-gold-teeth-and-dental-work-central-america-BAWX4K

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was born with bad teeth
Bad eyes
Bad Nose
Bad ears
Bad coordination
And almost died
As a young baby
A preemie

Just born too soon
But I had bad teeth
From birth
Got braces
Until I graduated

I hated my teeth
Hated the dentist

But they loved me
Loved my green
I gave them
To fix these evil bad teeth

Over the years
I have spent a lot
Of money
Fixing these bad teeth
Of mine

So many root canals
Lost six teeth
Wear dentures

Still hate my teeth
Still hate
The whole dental torture drill

Hearing in my mind
The Frank Zappa song
The torture never stops

 

And seeing the sadistic dentist
From Little House of Horrors
Jack Nicolson

In his demented best
Screaming
Pain is Good

Then I get the bill
And the Zappa song
Plays on
The torture never ends

American Dreams – Published in Your One Phone Call

visa line

 

 

 

 

 

 

You see them
Every morning
Lined outside
Any US Embassy
Around the world

The visa seekers
The American Dream seekers

The poor, the dispossessed
The disenfranchised
The marginalized

The forgotten
The left behinds
Of the not so great society

The rich, the mightily
The powerful
The beautiful
All looking for a slice
Of the American Dream

Some to sample its delicious flavors
Others to try to live
Among its deceptive lures

America beckons
As it has for years and years
Land of the free
Home of the brave
Lady Liberty

The land was a dream
And a little luck
Can make you too
The richest man alive

So, they line up
Outside my office door
Just to talk
To the American Visa God

Spin a tale
Tell a story
Play a game

Pretend to be
What the American
Visa God needs

And then you get
Your piece of the American Pie
And off you go

Only to end up
In a thousand neglected
Backwaters of the American nightmare

Flotsam
Floating from one marginal
Illegal job to another

Prey to the predators
Ever behind
The rent demands

For you see
America is a rich habit
It is expensive to maintain
The first taste is free
The rest will cost yah

You live, your soul
And 70 hours per week
At sub-minimum wages

Soon you will be speaking
English
With the poor, the disenfranchised

The flotsam
The neglected
The left behinds

The rich will ignore you
Not know your name
The poor will fear
You will take their jobs away

And your friends back home
Will wait to hear
About how you became a big shot
In the American land

They don’t want to hear
No tales of working at McDonald’s
Working 70 hours a week
At five jobs per day

No, No, No
That’s not America
They see on TV

They want it now
They want their MTV

Where’re the babes?
Where are the parties?
Where’s the sex with naked ladies

Come on man,
You’re holding out

Tell us the tales
Of Wild America

And so, they line up
Every day

Line up outside
My office windows

And we have the power
To set them free
Some to enable them
To dream the American dream

Some to send to the American nightmare
Others to go back home
To wherever they come from

They will be back
They will be back
Nothing will deter them

Not even the lack
Of a piece of paper
From the American Visa God

Ode to Berkeley Writer Digest’s Prompt to write a “City Poem”

free roaming berkeley

 

 

 

 

 

I grew up in Berkeley
In the late 60s and ’70s
A wild magical time
In a magical city
By the bay

Berkeley was the center
Of my universe
For many years

Until I left it
In my early 20s
To wander about the world

Yet Berkeley never left me
I am still in Berkeley
It lives on in my heart
And soul

And someday
I will return home
To reside

Before I finally leave
Berkeley for good
As I die in my homeland

The End

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