Poems

I wanted coffee with my sugar;
in search of, went into a bar,
and sat right next to a good looker.
She said: you’re close, but no cigar.

“Get you a drink?” I asked, politely.
When she agreed, I said: “a scotch?”
She shrugged her shoulders, nodded slightly,
did not protest the choice too much.

Bartender pours the girl a tulip,
then points to me: what do you drink?.
I take a moment but to think,
and say “I’ll settle for a julep”.
then ask the lady: “can you pay?
They took my credit card away”.

Author notes: image from author prompt to GPT

there it floats, the water lily
while she's thinking, will he, will he
will this stubborn man propose...
but the lily, not a rose

Author notes: image from facebook

Caught it right outside my windows.
Under it, a pot of gold.
Ever wonder what is in those?
In those stories that are told
of unreachable horizons -
can you get there - there's a prize.
Some advice - it surely wizens -
it's for hope that never dies.

Author notes: photo by author

bullets as ballots
plows into swords
our coarsened palates
weaponized words
nothing is grey
and yet everything dark
sure, hope and pray,
cause the choices are stark

Author notes: image generated by GPT

No more enamored of the future
than disillusioned with the past:
immutable, all scar and suture,
collage of memories that last,
a sewed up quilt of sad and happy,
and rarer still, so sweet and sappy,
the future might burst into tears --
but swallowed up by rusty gears,
it soon transitions to the present.
Before too long, it's left behind,
the years too pitiless, unkind,
one cannot dare to call them pleasant.
And soon enough, the story ends.
A happy ending? It depends.

there was a time I would rhyme crime
with time, a callous, heartless thief
that steals your memories, leaves grief
though there are times you'd find a dime
discarded, dropped onto the floor
to never pay for evermore
and resurrect it, use it well
to buy back time, if just a spell
now in my pocket, out of naughts
so here's a penny for your thoughts

Author notes: image from Midjourney

splash of color, perfect face
eyes that freeze you in your place
and that mouth -- all attitude
says how dare you to intrude
on this goddess' domain...

the cat's owner, just as vain

Author notes: image from Facebook

Forever and a day, is that too long,
if I am both your sentence and your ward?
When challenging the meaning of belong,
to share -- is that the best we can afford?

However tall the wall, however thick,
is it designed to keep the inside out,
or outside in, fenced in by mud and brick?
Or maybe it is just a roundabout

and we can't figure out how to get off,
entrapped, two planets in a common orbit
around a deep, black hole: we've reached the trough,
now all that's left is let the hole absorb it,

the remnants of forever and a day.
Blame gravity, it always finds a way.

Author notes: image generated by Midjourney

day will come, the stars will tire, fireflies will lose their spark
dressed in velvety attire, night will reign, its purpose dark
plasma swirling, coalescing, pushes inward and ignites
and god, granting us his blessing, smiles while turning on the lights

Author notes: image of Van Gosh starry night from Facebook

firefly orgies
the scent of deer musk on wood
enter cicada

Perfection hovers, subtly out of reach,
adjacent to unmet, as yet, potential,
the one that mom evoked in every speech,
in tones both resolute and reverential:
Remember, you can do it, yes you can!
If only moms could bottle that belief,
and you could take a sip of it, and then,
transformed into the best of you, as if
mere words could mold, infuse that kind of power.
Life soon betrays the mantra, a false hope.
You will not save a princess from her tower,
nor do you have the courage to elope
and live the life she told you that you should.
If mom is always right, it's Hollywood.

This Otto keeps me on my game
and mostly does me well
except when "lines begin the same"
deducts from villanelle