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defunding the grammar police
unlikely to help with a piece
or peace for that matter
a latte for latter
and nice is quiet difference then niece

chaos wrestled
into an affecting pattern
art accompli

there've been times, indeed aplenty
when I had but one too many
car keys safely on the shelf
since my Tesla drives itself

life kept giving Homo Erectus lemons
He used them to make lemonade
And with the proceeds
made Legos

I reside
where words collide

Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2802403-Slogan-for-your-own-Poetry-

when I was young, it was Jules Verne
Children of Captain Grant
I studied it as one might learn
a poem or a chant
I read it back and forth, and more
knew many parts by heart
the characters I did adore
I relished every part

Three Musketeers did follow suit
as I grew older still
and D'artagnan's noble pursuits
each swordfight and each kill
Milady, evil as they come
and Constance, her sad toll
the Cardinal, and Buckingham
adventure for the soul

Then Asimov, his robot tales
(I still contribute to his sales)
Then Dune, breathtaking story
An ageless allegory
In thousands, I can't recount
the Book Club gave me a discount
but there is one that does stand out
so I'll no longer beat about

It's Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson
the coiner of the Metaverse
It is my job today; for some,
the reason that I took to verse
most prescient, and most relevant
no, not the most poetic
no other writer -- adamantly
captured the esthetic
of what the future was to be
and so Snow Crash -- the one for me

Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2802457-Best-Reads

Richard the Third, a well known fact, found in a parking lot
There's some debate -- imagine that -- about the very spot
where they unearthed the King's remains. The story, at its core:
Was there a hatch-back parked above, or was it a two-door?

Dutch masters of my garden
emerging but to crash
no quarter and no pardon
(unless you went to cash)
the market's famous bubble
a speculator's ploy
why go through all that trouble?
Just plant them, and enjoy

The spring arrives, and I'm a fool again
Is it the snowdrops shaking off the cold?
The daffodils, in love with their own crowns,
or squirrels semaphoring with their tails?

The bucks that cross their antlers in a rut
or gentle does, pretending hard to get?
The cherry blossom decorated street,
a boulevard for lovers, holding hands.

Ah, there it is, the love that's in the air!
That must be it, it's why my restless self,
perusing through old contacts and regrets,
demanding I take action -- make a call!

It will not hurt you, go out on a date!
It's not too late for happiness to bloom.

I take a set of writer blocks
arrange them into words
take a guitar -- I know, it rocks!
and mix in a few chords
Now, if I dare, I might just sing
I know you think I ought.
And that my friend, is how some thing
can come from what was naught

Author notes: image from Amazon

Tours to Turin are quite rare.
If you've got the time to spare,
you must go to see the shroud
even if there is a crowd.
If it truly is of Jesus
you must show it to the missus;
Either way, it can't be missed!
Get it off your bucket list.

I'm envious. This, my well guarded secret,
I hadn't shared with anyone before.
I know that somewhere out there lives an eaglet,
a boy I'm truly jealous of, and more.
I'm envious of how he fights his battles
I wasn't this straightforward or so brave.
I'm envious of how he laughs and prattles,
ignoring admonitions to behave.
His body showing signs of bumps and scratches, -
where I was nicely combed, clean and preserved.
My books were my adventures and my catches
He will not miss those, envy thus deserved.

He will be honest, principled, and forward
denouncing evil means despite their ends
whereas I put my quill down, thinking: "akward" --
he will say: "Needed", sticking to his pens
No knot, however Gordian, will stop him
where I will neither cut it, nor untie.
When he falls into love, that love will bind him,
and I, even when falling, will deny.

My jealousy well hidden, I'll keep smiling.
I will pretend I do not understand:
"Well, nobody is perfect", reconciling,
"Not everyone is meant to take a stand".
"To each his own", I'll try with pomp and fanfare.
It doesn't seem to do me any good.
I can't forget that he is out there, somewhere,
accomplishing what I did not, but could

Author notes: Завидую я. Этого секрета не раскрывал я раньше никому. Я знаю, что живет мальчишка где-то, и очень я завидую ему. Завидую тому, как он дерется,- я не был так бесхитростен и смел. Завидую тому, как он смеется,- я так смеяться в детстве не умел. Он вечно ходит в ссадинах и шишках,- я был всегда причесанней, целей. Все те места, что пропускал я в книжках, он не пропустит. Он и тут сильней. Он будет честен жесткой прямотою, злу не прощая за его добро, и там, где я перо бросал: "Не стоит!"- он скажет: "Стоит!"- и возьмет перо. Он если не развяжет, так разрубит, где я ни развяжу, ни разрублю. Он, если уж полюбит, не разлюбит, а я и полюблю, да разлюблю. Я скрою зависть. Буду улыбаться. Я притворюсь, как будто я простак: "Кому-то же ведь надо ошибаться, кому-то же ведь надо жить не так". Но сколько б ни внушал себе я это, твердя: "Судьба у каждого своя",- мне не забыть, что есть мальчишка где-то, что он добьется большего, чем я.