"People dont like me, within the reality of my truth,
Dont understand me, I'm trying to be free within the courts of life, not in what the news show and others say within what they think."
-Ds-
They "flock together",
these girls. They
are "birds of the same feather".
They are so intelligent,
they are so articulate
with their words..
while they speak
on the radio, the news..
a girl's life
is unjust. We will,
they think, speak of others,
their plight..
we will, they say,
thread her mockable..?
degrading..? ("INJUSTICES",
SHE would say),
into the broadcast of a news show;
insulting, dehumanizing
the girl who could
not spread her "Song-Sparrow" wings.
"Birds of a feather,
they flock together.."
The Guidian Finch has Sunset hues.
A Sunrise could be a light peach-
cream tinted bird:
those colors on a bird do not exist,
cannot fly..or paint a Heaven.
The windows
frame the portrait of the Spring-
green-brown-eyed girl..
a blue-jay, the tincture
of a brilliant April sky,
with snow-white bursts
as bright as a noon Sun,
casts a small shadow...
within the limbs
of a blossoming tree,
whose tiny flowers are a sun-lit decor
of a glass house.
Tepid water from the bathroom tap
Washes my face with a flanneled slap
The water trickles between my fingers
My reflection in the mirror now lingers
Whilst I study the dampened brow
My face portrays the years unbowed
The morning’s call a morning news show
Tells me a lot more than I want to know
Microwaved wheat- bix and milk spooned
As I ponder the morning’s gloom
No anticipation of the coming day
Just a routine hum-drum not delayed.
© Paul Warren Poetry
The kids have all grown and moved out on their own
I can now be a senior with ease
But as I get older, unburden my shoulders
the help I once gave I now need
What has happened to me? I flaunt apathy
I’m becoming my parents I fear
I’ve ditched rock and roll for the daily news show
and prefer jasmine tea to a beer
A concert for me, well, used to be
A summer of fun at Red Rocks
And now my idea of fun for a night
is taking my dog for a walk
My mother used to have a radio
Bagged in black imitative leather;
The round speaker, volume, tuner in front,
And a small antenna is hidden on top.
When she pickled bamboo shoots or fishes,
Or when she filled up cotton mattress,
She loved to listen to traditional music.
She turned to country songs during her sewing.
She listened to the folkloric plays
While she was busy in the backyard.
If by accident, she turned to the news show;
She stayed there for a while to save ideas
For a dinner discussion with my father.
Then one day she dropped the radio:
The traditional music ceased.
She tapped it, hoping to recover the situation:
Radio revived, but the tuning knob locked up;
Her amusing stations were unreachable;
Only the news broadcast noise.
She did not want to spend money
To bring to the shop or to buy a new one.
She listened to the propaganda news.
For the long years, the radio made
My mother’s world heartlessly shrinks!
The mill house filled with oats, kept the mice in feeding heaven,
the cat was gaining weight, his daily mouse intake was seven,
the farmer’s daughter fed the horses oats and fresh picked barley,
while the son was searching ads, for a working vintaged Harley,
the mule had spent a restless night, mosquitos bit its nose,
the wife was trimming flowers, she gayly snipped a scarlet rose,
the kids were swimming in the stream, diving from a tree,
the paper boy on his new bike, brought news for folks to see,
the dentist and his happy drill, frightened children as they screamed,
the seamstress ironed starchy shirts, she whistled as she steamed,
the railroad crossing bells were broken, the mayor blew a fuse,
he pointed to the train approaching, shouting madly at the crews,
who rested ‘neath the maple tree, eating fresh made apple pie,
instead of fixing broken bells, before someone could die,
today the sleepy town in Georgia, cancelled their parade,
the honoree was drunk at home, the people felt betrayed,
life goes on as news show flooding, on the banks of Tennessee,
me, I’m staying stoned at home, and watch it all on my TV.
Great Chicken Soup
Just ate some of her great chicken soup
Which really did throw me for a loop;
Had heated up after putting in micro-wave
And stored rest in fridge so I could save.
Then there in mail we received an abundance,
Most of it known for advertising redundance
And on TV started using word transparent
Which I wondered what to was it inherent.
Sure am glad that God is my magnificent man;
He gave me some ice cream believe butter pecan
Which was really great and a pure delight;
My today's life story from morning through night.
Oh, forgot about news show that I had dreaded;
A responsible reporter had been beheaded
Followed by a story about a Brown over-sized kid
Who about, whole neighborhood has flipped their lid.
Like someone so often said,
"Good news is no news at all;
so why should someone try to appall?
As quoted and made by me, myself
and the eye of suspension who I
forgot to mention.