New York Babylon
politicians who don’t get along
parades of stupidity by the deplorably strong
images that are just plain wrong
freedom is facing a swansong
swing low and bang the bong
racists don’t belong
shades of King Kong
a saint in a sarong
pimps playing ping pong
the growing throng
you might as well come along
after all, we all belong
Essay – 1 minute read
The traditional gatekeepers of poetry, professors and such, have longed considered themselves quality control experts. Their narrow interpretation of what constitutes worthy works comes with constrictions and different restrictions.
Examples include:, Haiku, Ballad, Stev, Ode, Free verse, Blank verse, thematic, limerick and nursery rhymes. Spoken out loud, they provide powerful images within the confines of each style. A feat many writers haven’t bothered to try, poetry, was once deemed elitist and a byproduct of scholarly snobbery.
But The Beat Generation came along in my time and showed that not all poems have to rhyme and that provocative word pictures could be painted without formal meter or stanza standing in the way. A revolution that is still happening today.
Even more important to me, is that everyone can feel free to write poetry on their own websites or social platforms without conventional publishers dictating terms to them.
This, because of the growing poet population online, is the new Golden Age of Expression
The valley was a wintery tableau
buried beneath a carpet of freshly fallen snow
where a defiant flower bulb did silently grow
snugged in beneath the frozen ground
it didn’t wait for spring to come around
already emerging safe and sound
On religion the skeptic’s view is clear
there’s no invisible guy in the sky
that mankind has to fear
Skeptics find it hard to believe
religion to them, is just a way to deceive
and that faithful followers are all naive
Skeptics often fall back on science
in dogged defiance
of religion’s compliance
taking a wait and see
attitude unapologetically
when it comes to their destiny
Oh! so mellow…
watching pulsing colors go by
a musical lullaby
from a sugar cube
a psychedelic YouTube
a view of the universe
a thirst
never imagined
a new legend
a world flowing
flowers growing
out of people’s hair
with nothing to compare
a sense of peace
physic release
glowing hope
like smoking dope
spinning rooms
incense perfumes
dancing all night
in the light
of lava lamps
in hippie camps
deep conversations
surprising revelations
and so mellow!
Flying bats wearing tiny hats pursued a family of rats who recently arrived to live at a community zoo
the elephants protested and so did a kangaroo
the lions and tigers had their say
the monkey’s were furious all day
the zebras simply didn’t care
the bears didn’t know they were there
the aadvarks put out an alert
and they all hid in the dirt
the exotic birds didn’t have much to say
they were just happy to fly and play
the polar bears didn’t stare
because they were unaware
the hippos bathing in pools
thought the rats were fools
the only ones glad to see the rat family
were the snakes… waiting patiently
here we go
starting off slow
dancing the Bolero
Then the Tango
followed by the Disco
and a fancy fandango
morphing into a mambo
quickly followed by a Calypso
until it’s time to Go Go!
It’s no secret that we all want to be happy
the first key is to practice positivity
the second key is avoid negativity
the third key is belief in humanity
the fourth key is striving for sincerity
the fifth key is being open to jocularity
the sixth key is to avoid polarity
the seventh key call no one an enemy
the eighth key let people see your authenicity
the ninth key is practicing empathy
the tenth key is living morally
All aboard the Fantasy Train!
Let your imagination take reign
no one is going to say your insane
let those fantasies flow into the fast lane
show your originality
and your creativity
through your artistry
in flights of fancy
the fantasy train is free
to people like you and me
a chance to let others see
your creativity
when you take that ride
you can say you tried
and found the upside
with pride
The temperature was so low
it froze the newly fallen snow
Memorializing footprints on a trail
under the moon’s glow
It’s hard to tell where it will go
it’s a mystery we’ll never know
footprints of a man or beast?
or a reflection of a shadow?
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