the steady flow of water cascading down ancient cliffs
fed by hidden springs forever full
repeating repeating repeating
a cycle stretching back to the dawn of time
a chorus of crickets singing
repeating repeating repeating
the heartbeats of mother Earth
the sound of whistling winds
repeating repeating repeating
a secret orchestra for the universe
and songs for other galaxies
repeating repeating repeating
throughout eternity
step right in to a writer’s dream
and visit a fantasy store
where imagination is the central theme
story ideas from A to Z
are carefully separated
for all to see
tomes full of wizards words
nestled alongside fairy tales
and legends of Thunderbirds
rows upon rows of fantasy
inspirations from famous scribes
throughout history
there is no end in sight
you can go on forever
with the speed of light
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!
A puzzle missing pieces is forever fated to be negated.
Somewhere among the missing pieces recovered in the fire they discovered another empire
If missing pieces are hidden for posterity they loose their familiarity
Missing pieces can be found in common places like the ground Sometimes they are a telling sound
Every mystery has a key or two, missing pieces that can give a clue. Possibly a chance for a breakthrough.
There are missing pieces in my memory due to PTSD. I am no longer the man I use to be. Yet somehow, I’m happy.
“What is praiseworthy?” Socrates asked Voltaire
“Sacrificing one’s life for another” he replied, answering the dare
“I’m not so sure” Rousseau countered with an imperious air
“It’s in the eye of the beholder,” spoke up Jean-Paul Sartre
“Who can truly say for sure?” Plato posited as he walked by
Spinoza suggested someone is praiseworthy if they don’t lie
“I think there’s plenty of room” said Hume, “to wrongly misapply”
Then all the philosophers threw up their hands asking “Why try?“
100 words
She opened her eyes and pushed away the darkness of eternity. Not yet ready to submit to that unknown journey. She embraced her life for one more day.
Happy memories gave her strength to ignore her dying body. Her pale eyes still reflected determination and an active imagination.
Her fierce soul fought to stay one more day. She would not let her life slip away silently like it never happened.
Grasping for each hour like a sinking swimmer she held on until the next dawn when her soul let go leading her towards a bright glow and an eternal rainbow.
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