All writing

my bucket list full of old temples
from Machu Picchu to Tibet
in fact, those two are just examples
there's a whole world I ain't seen yet
far down the list, even the Moon!
the bucket's full, don't dare to swoon!

that's no Madonna
the world's most famous portrait
smile of victory

this inmate, a sorry stool pigeon
regretted, not even a smidgen
his rap as a rat
it made him quite phat
he claimed he had gotten religion

I hear though -- the story is told
though he was both stubborn and bold
the gang had him pinned
admit he had sinned
and ultimately, pigeon holed

The cedars, paws trembling, laden with weight.
Birds tweet, apprehensive and anxious.
This enchanted forest will block, and frustrate,
your exit, as though it is conscious.

Let the wild berries dry in the wind, like wet clothes
Let the lilacs rain down, lose their treasure.
I will still take you with me, to hold you so close,
to a palace where flutes play for pleasure.

Your world, mage concealed, for millennia now
None see it, not me, and no tourist
And you think to yourself, what can be, better? How?
Then this, magic, enchanted forest.

Let the leaves lose their claim on the morning's first dew.
Let the moon quarrel, dark clouds in motion.
I will still take you with me, because I need you,
to a villa, bright lit, by the ocean

Which day of the week, and what hour, pray tell,
you'll come out to me, still all shyness.
I'll lift you and carry you, damn this old spell,
where no one can look for, or find us.

I will steal you away, should you wish and behest
hope my path through those woods not mistaken
and you're happy to share this unkempt lover's nest
should the palace and villa be taken

Author notes: Здесь лапы у елей дрожат навесу Здесь птицы щебечут тревожно Живёшь в заколдованном тёмном лесу Откуда уйти невозможно Пусть черёмухи сохнут бельём на ветру Пусть дождём опадают сирени Всё равно я отсюда тебя заберу Во дворец, где играют свирели Твой мир колдунами на тысячи лет Укрыт от меня и от света И думаешь ты, что прекраснее нет Чем лес заколдованный этот Пусть на листьях не будет росы поутру Пусть луна с небом пасмурным в ссоре Всё равно я отсюда тебя заберу В светлый терем с балконом на море В какой день недели, в котором часу Ты выйдешь ко мне осторожно? Когда я тебя на руках отнесу Туда, где уйти невозможно? Украду, если кража тебе по душе Я не зря в том лесу партизанил Соглашайся хотя бы на рай в шалаше Если терем с дворцом кто-то занял Соглашайся хотя бы на рай в шалаше Если терем с дворцом кто-то занял

Father: Eric the Red. Mother: Freya the Kind.
Dowry laden, the skiff carries Nor'ward
Viking princes, the treaty agreed to, and signed,
"Do behave", father said, "not too forward!"
"Bide your time, you'll be queen!" Will he miss her?
Freya, tears in her eyes, smiled. Then kissed her.

Author notes: image from buzzfeed

How to explain the tidal pull that brings you to the shore?
The ocean still extends its rule over your liquid core.
Your happiness a sandy beach made up of tiny grains.
Laid plans may lay far out of reach and losses outweigh gains.
The water rushing through your toes washes away the daily woes.
Feet sinking into sand. And then you understand.

Author notes: image from timeanddate.com

Our President Biden
is not really hiding
that would be unfair
he's not really there

I asked Onegin's famous uncle --
ran into him at a soiree:
"What have you done that would so rankle
your nephew, Eugene, that he'd say
these things. Compare you to a donkey?
How dare this upstart, tall and swanky
say that he wishes you to hell?
How IS your health? Trust all is well?"
The uncle waved his hand. "He's SO mean,
In truth, I wasn't too surprised.
But that's ok, I've since revised
my will and testament, so Eugene
will not receive a single cent.
Now, who's the jackass, tell me, gent."

Author notes: For those who've read a translation of Onegin, or even the original but don't know what the donkey allusion is all about, the first line of Onegin in Russian almost perfectly matches a line about a donkey in a Krilov allegorical fable, with some debate as to who used the allusion first, and whether one purposely alluded to the other. https://rvb.ru/18vek/krylov/01text/vol3/01fables/159.htm

Always together, flying back and forth.
This year, though, he is traveling alone.
The lake is empty, she did not fly north.
Despondent, he will find a lonely stone,
and stand there, let the lake absorb his pain.
A bonsai tree now. Once, he was a crane.

Author notes: image from Pinterest

Clean slate, what's more exciting!? Some theorize that apes,
when sitting down and writing, will somehow match the shapes
of ancient masterpieces, if trying long enough.
I'm skeptical, though primate, perhaps I have the stuff?
I close my eyes, start typing. Put period. All right.
Open my eyes. The page says: "....a dark and stormy night."

fortune favors the bold
in some cases, outrageous
stories we've all been told
heard and loved, through the ages
it's no wonder we love
a good bite your nails story
each of us dreaming of
riches, fame, and vain glory

He has no weaknesses, no vulnerable spots.
His golden armor covers him from head to toe.
Fate follows Fortune. In the drawing of their lots,
they favored him. So very few've been favored so.

His tutors were among the best that gods can buy,
and Chiron let himself be saddled, yes, for fun!
An ocean nymph would sing him Grecian lullabies,
great Thetis singing: "child of mine, you'll be the one!"

Exalted as the best among both kings and Greeks
he leads the Myrmidons on to the sandy beach
and plans to take Troy quickly. Fame is what he seeks.
He has all else, and knows that nothing's out of reach.

A bronze age hero, he's brought down, but not by steel.
The story may be myth, the moral, though, is real.