Sunshine and revelry steeped the day like sweet tea dripping over a glass's edge. Overflow dribbling down rejuvenated the laughter of the gut and burst forth into an excess of jubilation. The cup wants to be filled with adulation for the man to drink; the man is a goblet steeped by the day. Over him jumps his spirit, blooming amidst his body's celebration into a new stance, pose, and guise. The transvaluation of the spirit leads it to elevation, upwards, it laughs yes, raising the cup and dousing its thirst—the birth of a madman steeped in sunshine and revelry.
Manners are the party fancy —
Petit goldleaf on the melting pudding,
A sticking cream now on your fingers,
Immovable for hours.
Manners like a lady,
Her morning bonnet pinned,
Perching, tilting in the wind.
That flat earth, mountained at the dome,
With feather shores and flower groves,
Shiny plastics, false as those at home.
Nods and bobs and toothy smiles,
Inflections in their proper place,
But my greetings, lumbersome and cumbering,
Like falling up the carpet staircase.
Admire my racing stripes—
How fast they run my eager thoughts,
Like greyhounds on the track.
Striped in life, strung up in death,
A dripping turkey, limbs akimbo.
My brain is too human for me,
My tongue declares me animal,
Its words condemn me man.
So I crave the choking baby squeeze,
Until my secrets spill, hurled,
Bile like from the lemon press,
Dribbling, a puddle,
A sour sting to wipe your turgid eyes,
And join the salty swimming race.
Held it in, so strong.
For too damn long!
Bit my tongue,
it bled blood-red.
Cracks ran rampant,
as the eruption spread,
the pressure built.
The head-cap exploded -
Volcano Maricano!
Flash to Ash
Dread is Bled
Scene is Black
Flak is Sacked
Volcano Maricano!
Ashes flew,
molten lava spew,
red burning streams
dribbling down,
defacing, everything in
its path! Smiling!
Flash to Ash
Dread is Bled
Scene is Black
Flak is Sacked
Volcano Maricano!
Volcano Maricano!
Damp linens flung aside
sodden cushions
Flank by flank
She was damp
Nickel sack and bark rings
Verdant gaze meet hazel orbs
Ripe late April Northern Flatlands moisture
Slaughterhouse savory mist perfume
Slender dull rose covering on the pane
Cooling unit recirculating
Coral beams groom her visage
Midday vernal noon
the drizzle ceased the light slivered in
Naked gourd blossoms adhesive juice
Lurching brined
The toddler flesh on her abdomen
She didn’t cleanse
Just exited my one-room lodging
Infatuation perspiration,
Empty uterus,
Pixie sperm dribbling,
Contraceptive device
Marriage band fabricator.
Tangy citrus salad bowl
dribbling fruit juice dreams
of mother’s glazed berry pie
ice cold apple sip
on warm palm tree beach
banana
splits
Colored pencils
Pastels
Sticks of chalk
Too light for me
Water colors
Doing what they want
Dribbling all over the page
Wild and free
Oil paints
Vividly beautiful
Take too long to dry
I am too impatient
Acrylic paints
Give me fluorescent colors
I have black lights
They make me happy
Trump Derangement Syndrome
and Hoya Paranoia*
Both reside in Washington D.C.
both designed to annoy ya
_______________________________
*The Georgetown University basketball
team's nickname is 'the Hoyas.' The
team is known for its 'annoying,' but
effective, full-court pressure defense.
Other teams became paranoid about
dribbling the ball against them. Hence,
'Hoya Paranoia.'
FOOTBALL IS A POET
(Inspired by barrister lanre badmus)
Football is indeed a poet
Fans actually stake bet.
For their favorite team,
Hopefully achieving their dreams.
It is a package of passion,
Her sublime skills are the perfection.
Football doesn't welcome racism,
Passion, emotion are the criticism
Football bringing nation together,
The stadium excitement is forever
Underdogs winning favorite team
Apparently, its like a dream.
Goals echo from miles,
The dribbling are the smile.
Players passes describe the art
Football definitely won many heart.
PricelessPEN
Banks did not burst,
just a dribbling bladder of river
leaked into our back yards.
It drooled over damp roots,
seeped into groundhog holes,
into ditches, where winter debris
had already washed-up.
The water rose in some places,
to at least half an inch,
we made phone calls to each other,
imaginations spilling over,
into memories of past inundations.
Some put on rubber boots,
and armed with brooms,
swept the ripples away.
Biblical deluges were discussed,
will the garden ornaments rust?
We watched sparrows bathing.
No geese or ducks landed.
Nothing sailed off over the fields.
A sulky cat was retrieved,
from a shallow puddle.
The mail was cataclysmically late.
A pair of doves preen and prim
for the Night is almost done.
And perched on their favored limb;
they await the rising sun.
As Sol rises from below,
darkness slowly fades away.
And as a pale moon hangs low,
Dawn dissolves Night into day.
Morning mist waters the grass;
dribbling dewdrops everywhere.
And sparkling like beads of glass;
their beauty's beyond compare.
Swaying palms shadow a reef,
where crabs play tag with the waves.
And in their seaweed motif;
dash in and out of mud caves.
This extraordinary show;
I share with my Valentine.
And as scented breezes blow,
our hearts and souls intertwine.
It’s going to snow tonight. It seems the brick shoulders of Elm Street will ooze, like watery eggnog, with a light snow tonight and we’re twitching with delight.
The vibes of it are too much and sure, it will just turn to slush, but you know how romance twists reality, snow seems laced with pageantry.
After two snowless winters the light dribbling, like a flirty look or a stolen kiss, will be exciting.
When I chose Yale, I was promised - ok threatened with - cruel winter weather.
I’m going to dance however I want, and if I commit to cruelty, I’ll accept it with all of its honest challenges. That cruel weather never materialized.
We returned to New Haven yesterday to be here - for the snow. Earlier, the wind was blowing in from the sea but hurray! That’s changed.
Think my jollies are starting to return
Told you they wouldn't stay away long
Not those kind of jollies, naughty people
Thought you might get me wrong
You people, you really should be ashamed
What kind of dude d'ya think I am
I'm quite respectable and live a clean life
But in reality it's all just a scam
At times I'll be hanging from the rafters
Overcome by these jollies I enjoy
Dribbling and drooling to beat the band
Talk about jollies, ooooh boy!
Must be careful at this extreme old age
Not as agile as I once used to be
So if you hear a bulletin on the news
Man falls from rafters it's me!
Anyone can count the seeds in an apple, but only God can count the number of apples in a seed. - Robert H. Schuller
Luscious crimson, amber, falling
Trembling on branches, perfect yarns
Reciting journeys, their calling
Seeds thrown aside while nature darns
Trembling on branches, perfect yarns
Fables and feelings, rustling winds
Seeds thrown aside while nature darns
Blessings eternal, gentling minds
Fables and feelings, rustling winds
Glossy skins need peeling, tasty
Blessings eternal, gentling minds
Autumn swirls its songs so hasty
Glossy skins need peeling, tasty
Scrumptious liquids dribbling juices
Autumn swirls its songs so hasty
Startling bliss without excuses
Scrumptious liquids dribbling juices
Orchard scented with fruity hints
Startling bliss without excuses
Perfumed by autumn’s trailing prints
Orchard scented with fruity hints
Picking between the red and gold
Perfumed by autumn’s trailing prints
Harvest time, striking to behold
Picking between the red and gold
Reciting journeys, their calling
Harvest time, striking to behold
Luscious crimson, amber, falling
Papa’s not here
For we had hunger to fear-
He took his backpack
And never came back.
Mama’s gone too-
Drunk she got
-nothing I could do
The money she forgot.
School mister?
Then what about my sisters?
You come knocking,
But all you do is nodding.
You ask me for papa
But I must go make supper,
For I have four siblings
And the money’s dribbling.
You ask my age
But it will nothing change
Because, Mr Policeman
You stand there with your fan
And in my tin home
You must your people phone,
For you must save the day
But I don’t get a say
Because you will eventually separate us
And say that you must
But Mr policeman
You don’t understand.
Little Tommy’s only got me left
For he’s completely deaf.
Sarah gets nightmares-
You don’t know our fears.
I had to steal
To cook a meal
For that day I had no work,
I had found Betty in the dirt.
Beaten and bruised,
Broken and abused.
Your uniform had her abused.
You don’t understand our struggle
Your money provides a bubble.
And you will never understand trouble
Or the need to fight
While your blue lights flash bright.
Walking through the dappled forest, my mind reveled in its magnificence
The first thing I noticed was the shadowed silence; it was self-empowering.
More relaxing than a power nap. A large shadow flew over the tree line.
I focused on where I thought it might be next, it was a gorgeous hawk.
At the bottom of the ravine there is a giant overturned felled oak.
I pull myself up on it; feeling the mushroomed edges; it feels safe.
Deer bounds up and disappears, after flashing his white tail.
Cushy forest floor springs up and down as I take my leave.
The sound of dribbling water brings my attention to the tiny brook.
I sit for a bit, watching the minnows glide around in the cold water.
Other things are in there, teeny tiny bits of something – algae maybe?
I feel something watching me. It is a tiny snake. Somehow communicating.
I like everything about this place, it is my own nirvana.
No human comes here except for me. It is my secret world.
My soul feels joy. I love the shadows, and the gentle breeze.
I am ready to face another day, so thank you God for this place.
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