Your anonymous blog
To my face you are kindness itself:
cheerful, always upbeat,
but in your anonymous blog
you rip me apart.
You press your thumb and forefinger on each side,
hold, pull and rend,
and rupture my very innards.
You focus on me,
my life, my words, my actions and my body
like you are a Celestron Telescope
searching for every single crater and irregularity.
With an Ultima Barlow lens
and your Leica M9 18MP
You grab each natural image
and then rearrange reality with
your precious, perversely persuasive, periscopic Photoshop technique.
poetic liberty has leased you a license to assassinate,
humiliate,
decimate,
invalidate,
severely lambaste,
and mockingly castrate
everything that I identify as me.
literary freedom allows you to liberally fabricate,
mutilate,
denigrate,
incriminate,
scathingly castigate,
and maliciously urinate
on what others think of me.
To my face you are kind beyond selflessness,
but on your online beat,
your anonymous malevolence
sets you apart
from all the others
that have ever wanted
to write me up,
put me down,
and publish me out.
— Zumwalt (2011) (used by permission from zumpoems.com)
A student who hailed from Bombay
Eats curry for breakfast each day
On pakora he’d munch
As a snack or for lunch
The toilet is where he must stay
He suffers from dire 'Dheli belly'
Shared bathroom got terribly smelly
So he leased a commode
Where he’ll unleash his load
No studies, he poops watching telly!
His flatmate said, “Listen up Josh”
Your ling’ring stench means I can’t wash
Living with you is hell
I can’t cope with the smell
Flat sharing, I’m just gonna quash!
Downwind
of my perception
Upwind
before the fall
Immune
in my protection
From dullards
at the mall
The past
remains in focus
The future
but a myth
My words
fall out of judgment
Each phrasing
to enrich
To read
with understanding
To hear
beyond the din
To feel
beyond the senses
To love
beyond the rim
Released
without containment
On wings
not leased or loaned
Into
the inner sanctums
With time
— Goliath’s stone
(The New Room: June, 2025)
Shelly had a lucky break once
She won thirty thousand dollars at a casino in Nebraska.
It was not enough.
A prime to her pump.
She has been trying to do it again for the past fifty years.
Shelly has never had enough money to buy a house.
She has never bought a car.
She lives with her daughter and her grandsons.
She leased a car for a while.
One week at a time, but she lost it.
Where did the thirty thousand dollars go?
She lost it to the casino the same week she won it.
The deaths of even famous men
do never the world’s future bend.
When humans die their impacts cease,
as does the life God to them leased.
But there is one whose death did change
the destiny of men estranged.
His dying was the source of life
for men engaged in sin and strife.
When Jesus died, He paid sin’s price
to save humans from dying twice.
For all who on God’s Son believe
Eternal life, His gift, receive.
Don’t let Christ’s dying be in vain
by failing endless life to gain.
For you, the Son of God was slain
So, you with Him will ever reign.
I pay no attention to sports
I turn off the weather report
Pretty girls don’t attract me
No more do mosquitoes attack me
I read the obits and emit a long sigh
Thinking, there but for the grace of God goeth I…
A backed-up sewer full of manure
Made me gag; I was so immature
Today it bothers me not in the least
~ Life on this earth is just leased
Hurray! Hurray! Today is your day!
Always and ever, best wishes forever.
Pleased to wish you happiness,
Perfect serene life – away from strife.
You deserve the best. Happy birthday! Yes!
Having long since ceased to weigh, measure and size,
with fetters of our past having been released,
we dwell in the heart, claiming bliss as the prize,
within this body-mind, by God to us leased
and as truth of existence we realise,
we cannot deny our soul presence is pleased.
As bliss mists suffuse form, we do not resist,
centred in love’s storm, by Divine Mother kissed.
The wings finally untied
The broken feathers laid on bushes
Turned into ashes
The memory of lame rests no more
On the store of the brain-game
New Breeze has leased
The opportunities to be ceased
Life has transcended
Beyond the mundane
Not so wild in the wide world
Seashore is no longer apart
The heart now is meandering ways
To uplift the drowning soul
And make its way to the edge
Heavy is the treasure
That life has hidden
In the pockets of Bay
Looking at the sky
With a huge wide ray
I hope to see all of it
Once again in the lives of all
That can rise and enjoy the lane.
Clad in Kevlar on some forest land leased,
big saw in his hand, engine idling,
gets put to the tree and shatters the peace,
works it just right, and the tree is falling.
Adjusts his visor, then lops off the limbs,
the yarder comes down, cables cinch up tight,
makes sure it is a good distance from him,
then yanks the logs up as if they’re in flight.
A claw grabs them there, loads them in the truck,
down rough road it trundles with its cargo,
off to the mill, so they can make a buck,
on to the next tree the lumberjack goes,
knows if he screws up there’s a chance he dies,
the risk you take working the mountainside.
my cat had wondered why
whether he would do or die
my poem is new type
never want to hear you gripe
have to hear the hype
9,000 poems have surpassed
must have heard my forecast
Infinity will be my last
when cat would flip her lid
her goat had another kid
when cat would romp and stomp
had been strangled in a swamp
when in circles cat went around
bigger ones were to be found
cat had been bitten by a waif
in a swamp ended up safe
cat came up with solution
people try to avoid the pollution
when cat had been hard corps
left and not back anymore
when cat would fall fast asleep
pile of sheep did become deep
cat would be faced by a beast
apartment with him was leased
while cat would hear beckon call
he had slipped in shower stall
In place of cat you can use anything
in their place.
Same goes for him, his, he, and
he's and her, her's, see, she, she's
and it.
The trees will shortly sleep; for all we know
may never wake, such is the bitter hold
of winter. Leafless limbs soon leased by crow
an echo of their canopy of gold;
will whistle mournful, blown by arctic breath.
The Aspen, Oak, the Maple, Dogwood, Beech
all whisper this is rest; 'tis not yet death.
Walk past us still, look up, remember each
glorious in their majesty of fall;
the sunshine yellow, purple, fiery red.
Be not beguiled by winter's mournful call;
keep memories of color in your head.
The grey-white cold will surely soon dispel
as spring green blossoms bloom to summer's swell.
Heart blushes, I smile, content.
Answered prayers merit praise,
Pleased with love that's heaven-sent,
Peace-filled soul delighted stays;
Yester cares gone, God's ways amaze!
I should hate to lose them in a freak accident,
for they have brought me many covert pleasures.
Like hermit crabs, they have leased their homes,
rested and moved on like itinerant workers.
Leonardo da Vinci was fascinated by hands,
he understood that if you could draw them well,
then you could shape cathedrals from water.
At times, my hands are seabirds caught in an oil slick,
then I remember they wash me every day as I wash them,
on the other hand when they dance in the air
hands are more eloquent then any words.
Built by the tired hands
Many from far off lands
Taken away from farm and spouse
Yet they built the sacred House
A house leased for 4-year terms
Unique privilege to be confirmed
To an American deemed fit
Compassionate, patriot and have wit
Tradition is the code here
Simple decent and austere
Wisdom learnt from many battles
And a constitution sound and moral
Enshrined we were born free
It was the heartbeat of democracy
There were periods of stress
Staunchly addressed by the noblesse
Fiercely defended by the have-nots
I implore everyone to see the plots
In a national cemetery
And behold what it means to be free
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