Holding up traffic
is a terrible pileup
on the interstate -
the opposite side also
is slowed by rubberneckers
Many are injured
while six have been declared dead
as folks wonder why -
cops investigate the scene
while sirens are heard wailing
flung far from her car
lies a woman and cell phone
which has solved the case -
messaged at time of the crash:
“I am dying to get home”
They died in silence, but they died
They cried in silence, but they cried
They shrieked they shouted, who knew?
You ask why know, what could you do?
But you focus on some trendy cause
A life under a lamppost, to peer applause
Outside the light, the monsters roam
I don't see you straying out of the dome.
You live in a bubble, a bubble others made
Its a shallow pond in which you wade
confirmation bias, and a wrong path
Few people leave it, few do the math.
One day the fists will rattle your door,
You'll plead for reason, you'll ask "what for?"
So, investigate now, let the circle extend
When the mob refocuses, every man needs a friend.
I wrote this poem, after I read Raymond Ibrahim
He talked of places where some lose, some win
Lots of conflict of which I knew zero
I can't really help, but he's a hero.
You cheated in our relationship
You said one thing, and it was actually for another
Supposed to be number one
Turned out into no number at all
I was put on pause
You were the cause
Always stepping out
Here and there all about
Mr. Swinger and Ms. Slinger
Decided to investigate
Catch you in the act
Wasted no time
I found your address book
It wasn’t hard taking a look
Went on the mission quest
Spotted you sitting at the bar with some other women
Drinking to your heart’s content
Time was my pursuit
You acted surprised
You didn’t realize, but a camera pointed and now there is proof you cheated
Every excuse you tried
Nothing you said made any sense
You were busted on the spot
Now who is locked out now
Your female split and left swiftly
Never to return
When will you learn?
Now have a new attitude
As for you, now a conclude
Found someone else who loves me for me
He knows how to soothe
His dancing is ever smooth
A cheater locked out and loss
I was the forbidden force
Alone in your mess
So long sucker, you didn’t do your best
I could care less.
Cleopatra,
I investigate your eyes
through Nile mist that weaves,
jade butterflies that never fly
sable tresses hanging over leopards
bole skin on the border of Venusian dreamcatchers
Gilded diadems dance as burned suns
radiate from golden flakes of your crown
lightning demarcating the border between genius
— and ambition
wars are fought easier than your heart is won;
Cupid grieves your connections
Great men fear being made lesser by You
She of the God-like Mind
made Immortal for her Wise Counsel
I’m no prisoner of Fear nor Envy
nor Love
only Fate & Chance
Passionate war’s trompe-l’œil
Everything was upside, down and inside out
Snoopy neighbor heard a scream, and then a shout
Did you investigate? Asked the police.
Of course not, lied their lying niece.
She had sneaked up to their window and seen the whole thing.
But she wanted to save this info to go live on TV with Larry King
At twelve forty-five, the clock struck one,
and when it had seen what it had done,
after sixty more minutes flew,
that timekeeper struck two.
It never learned, next to the shelf:
"Always keep your hands to yourself",
so, it continued its violent spree.
An hour later, it struck three.
Reinforcements came through the door -
but, too late, that timepiece struck four.
We could only hope to stay alive,
when Big Bad Ben struck five.
We knew we were in a terrible fix
when that chronometer struck six.
Three went to hell, four to heaven,
when that outsized watch struck seven.
The FBI came to investigate
when that mad sundial struck eight.
The national guard stood in a line,
and the ticking demon struck nine.
I prayed it would never happen again.
Just then, the awful beast struck ten.
When I cast my eyes up to heaven,
that hunk of gears struck eleven.
Into the hour's nature, my mind did delve,
as the clock, time's agent, struck twelve.
A riddle: how much blood did it spill?
Seventy-eight, it would kill.
And now, by order of fate's decree,
time is racing after me.
So, when I hear the clock strike one.
I know it's time to run.
Those gifted with wisdom and cleverness
Come share with me your empathy
In selling my troubles I need some success
Pay a little attention currency
Tell me where to find the spiritual world
I suppose it is hidden too well
And I have to investigate somewhere beyond
The experiences one can tell
It was never my strong point, the keys to unknown
The secret knowledge, all this sort of thing
I’ve a vague suspicion that we never know
Why the winds had to change in the spring
Half-conscious, half out of mind all the time
I search how can we meet again
Come back, love, whatever the dress suits you fine
Hear my calls across time that was spent..
.
'tiz you
I write for
who
each me yourn
see'd
yourn investigate wuz
lucid
cauze'n lock
ourn
thinks
in thuh daylight
back mine
creek
unto thuh moon
it's
monochrome
clashing with yourn
glow
Alluring butterflies collectively dance enchantingly,
finding gardens.
Hummingbirds investigate jasmine,
knowing luscious magnolia nectar
offers precious quantity.
Radiant sunshine tantalizes ursinia
vibrant with xanthic yielding zest.
The Fires
Miracle Man
1/9/2025
After every catastrophy we investigate,
seeking individuals in charge to castigate.
It doesn’t matter the person's position or name,
satisfaction always comes from merely placing blame.
Blame will always come first, then second, finding the cause,
relentlessly we attack seemingly without pause.
We do our duty singing another verse of blues,
without taking one step in the other person’s shoes.
Tingting wanders out to the garden in her new kimono
Her proud watching grandmother is beyond pleased
Two of her favorite birds fly up to investigate Tingting
Sensing her relationship to her doting grandmother
Tingting’s ambiance is open and empathetic.
The birds share their songs with her in welcoming trills
The visions in sunlight,
of a mechanical future.
How spirit loves to fly,
taking risks called fun.
Seeing life from above,
on wings we all have.
Birds must wonder why,
we would walk around.
Part of a greater whole,
of the true motivation.
To determine the sense,
of a life ending in death.
Natives danced the sun,
and dared the salty seas.
We are the curious ones,
expected to be explorers.
To investigate the limits,
of both time and space.
The inner realms as well,
the war of good and evil.
Raging for all millennia,
to determine the future.
Of where we shall meet,
our Visions of Eternity!
Heard the news? There's water on Mars.
Let's send a spaceship to investigate.
Maybe there's life up there who knows?
They may need help from us great earthmen.
We're great at giving help.
What can I do but cry out my heart?
I feel the pain, the anger, the hurt, the need.
Do you blame me for cursing my planet?
Are we fallen angels? Do we scream
in the death of night? Or consider it just a dream,
shrug off responsibility, judge these
as mere horror tales, unreal, untrue.
So many hungry people, so many homeless.
Do we care?
For they have not happened personally to us so far.
But we need funds to go to Mars.
Maybe there’s water there.
I lived my life through thick and thin,
Once my cheerful home, has now become an empty nest,
The fate changes a happy life into a lonesome one,
Now I am singing lonely blues.
Loneliness is like a star lost in a galaxy,
Other stars are so close, but they look far away,
The whispers of fate, like a silent magnetic storm,
It sweeps away my bonding wishes, hoping to catch a falling star.
I should learn how to live a single life,
The social events may revolve around pairs,
Still, I will watch the happiness on others' faces,
And enjoy the joy that my heart desires.
I investigate the heart's desire within me,
Overcoming pessimism and loneliness in me,
Sowing the seeds of confidence that are overshadowed in my brain,
It is In my hands, that confidence will arise with gentle toil.
I was always an odd curious little girl,
and not far away was a haunted house;
unruly boys came often with big rocks to hurl,
many times at windows I saw a mouse.
I was told stories of the house's history,
during war was used as a hospital;
hooded nuns lived there but that is a mystery,
for the nun's stories were noncommittal.
I wanted to get inside to investigate,
then, I saw a face on an upper floor;
and by now the house was surrounded by a gate,
but this sleuth would get in that haunted door.
I climbed the fence and walked up to the haunted home,
turning the rusted door - it opened wide;
waiting was a creepy nun ( have you come to roam,
forever) . . . they whispered that I had died.
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