All writing

the flasher's passion
all the more effective
in a London Fog

Author notes: image from Google Images https://allpoetry.com/contest/2804121-London-Fog

As the disciples sat to Seder
none had a hint of what's to come
the old world order near its nadir
the new one will be good to some
and others cursed for generations
forever burdened with the cross
blamed for the death and wealth of nations
an unimaginable loss
none at that table, no apostle
not Judas, and not Jesus Christ
and not the rest, who drank wine, docile
knew what was being sacrificed

Author notes: Seder means order (in the all is in order sense, or more modern, "ritual")

haikus cannot rhyme
except by accident
slowing down to watch

Old Boreas, vainglorious
screws up his face to blow
cheeks puffed, the god, notorious
exhales on friend and foe
the chill invades your window sill
your doorway and your coat
the river, frozen, standing still
your breath dies in your throat
Old Boreas, vainglorious
your ancient breath does worry us
like snowbirds, we head south
escaping from your mouth

a rose, on any other plate
would smell as sweet
just as unlikely, though, to sate
what's there to eat?

Author notes: AN: image thanks to hadleycourt.com

when man first glanced into the velvet night
and wondered who lit campfires in the sky
when he assigned, according to their might
the duties of the gods to those up high
when he devised the heavens as a clock
the spheres rotating perfectly, just so
when he continued working to unlock
the mysteries that made the planets go
when he at first determined that the sun
was hardly at the center of it all
when he had learned that he will be the one
that truly understands both flight and fall
he's always, always hungered for the stars
and will not rest until he makes them ours

the universe, uncaring
proceeds along its path
it spares no thought to sparing
or limiting its wrath
the life it birthed, pure hunger
the fittest, day, by day
the old yield to the younger
has ever been the way
and now, in this late hour
we hunger for a truce
and call to higher power
he's of no use, our Zeus
we grew, and our dear father
had never spared the rod
no wonder then, we'd rather
become just like our god

it's out there, both the what and how
but not the when, wish it was now
where I but able to, then wow
it would then be, the cat's meow

Author notes: image thanks to community.snapwire.co

surfing
she found
her Greek demigod
it didn't last
the heel saw everything
in black and white
no shades of grey

Author notes: check where his head is, and his heel (in the newspaper)

ah, here is young Pythagoras
he is all points and angles
is it a wonder, looking thus
he studied those triangles
and to his bullies, he showed them
Pythagorean theorem

the sun, fragmented by the forest
into a thousand points of light
bouquet of a celestial florist
the shadows dancing in delight
reflecting purple, gold and brass
now trapped forever, amber glass

The devil, in his quest to reign supreme,
decided that he'll need a few more souls.
Perusing through his arsenal, a meme
seemed best equipped to engineer their falls

Thus harvesting the clicks, he sat to watch,
as fingers pointed and as stones were thrown,
and souls fell, just a bit, just one more notch;
the meme appeared to strike just the right tone

Devil's dessert, delicious schadenfreude,
his constant goal, his ever present theme.
No need to check with Skinner or with Freud.
You know now why you love a clever meme