If Hollywood is Babylon
then where, pray tell, is Eden?
Where parties rage from dusk to dawn,
the place to do the deed in
is surely by the famous sign,
lit up by movie lights.
I'll bring the coke, you bring the wine;
for Hollywood, the nights
are as important as the days,
in some ways, even more.
When morning comes and parts our ways,
we surely know the score.
No soul to sell, we pay the price.
A perfect slice of paradise.
I'm told I almost made it to the Fourth.
At night, though not last night, well past eleven,
and far away from Washington's true north,
both mom and baby fine, weighed in at seven.
But Fourth is when I choose to celebrate
the orbits that I've made around the sun,
although of late these do accelerate,
and turning over having just begun
appear to fade into a kind of haze.
The fireworks a colourful distraction.
Each New Year's and each Fourth. Those special days,
competing as they do to round the fraction,
until at last, they'll settle on the whole.
And someone will proclaim: yes, that was all.
a world of difference
between "loose change"
and "lose. change"
but just one oh.
to serve the people
every politician's dream
neatly, on a plate
nothing says
I loved you
like yesterday's roses
Author notes: image from dreamstime.com
Confession: I am somewhat of a foodie.
So when I'm served a steak, or rack of lamb,
my gut reaction isn't "goodie, goodie".
Instead I post a pic on Instagram.
It's then I put to use my English Major,
(assisted, as it is, by GPT)
"This hen", I caption, "never met a cager,
and I would wager you can taste the free."
Of late, though, I've been forced to post more veggies,
as veganism has gotten so in vogue.
Competing with young models in their wedgies
I find that one can never be too woke.
My wholesome salads are my alibis.
Now off to Mickey D's. I love the fries.
a peregrine dream
on the surface would seem
to be of a bird in the sky
but shifting to Latin --
to bolster and fatten
the vocab I use to get by
will hint at my travel
on dirt roads and gravel
a voyage not yet at an end
so yes, peregrine
here and there, in between
and that is my story, dear friend
Come, mortal, come and get your ticket
to watch a brawl between two gods.
Though both are equally as wicked
Las Vegas will be giving odds.
Up on the right, he's mastered thunder
and dreams of asteroids to plunder,
and on the left, he knows your pain
and uses it to make a gain.
Will one prevail? Since neither titan
would care to settle for a draw
the match is likely to be raw,
until the loser goes down fighting,
resisting to the bitter end.
Yes, that's the ticket. Tell a friend.
Author notes: https://www.outkick.com/elon-musk-challenges-mark-zuckerberg-to-cage-fight/
"A pair of each, until the ark is full.
But skip the dinos, they are too much bother."
And so he did. The rest of us, to rule,
continued fighting, brother against brother.
The water, though, it kept on rising, rising,
providing, as it did, a kind of thrill.
While Noah searched for peace on the horizon,
we battled for a kingdom on the hill.
At last the deluge stopped, the waves receded.
The earth, though soaked, allowed us on the plains.
We celebrated: see, no ark was needed!
and marveled at the dinosaur remains.
Now, once again, the ocean grows, encroaches.
Perhaps this time we will get on, as roaches.
What does it mean to me, the longest day?
Another minute basking in the sun.
A bit more time to master what to say,
a chance to finish more of what needs done.
Split second, and the hourglass is flipped.
The deities resume their ancient match,
their victories impermanent -- the script
does not allow it, so they start from scratch.
The night absorbs the few remaining embers
proclaiming, as they do, their last hurrahs,
but it is not concerned. No, it remembers
that this is no defeat, no coup de grace.
The summer is succeeded by the fall.
And in the end, it's night that conquers all.
For those of us the Devil gets to troll --
by random chance or evil circumstance --
resisting the temptation to just fall,
the Devil, meanwhile, sparing no expense:
He takes a wife, a child, a house, a job,
as if it is a game, some sort of bet:
"can this guy take it? Oh, look at him sob...
I haven't done my worst. At least not yet."
What evil twist of logic leads to this?
To teaching that acceptance is the key.
"Maintain the faith, and wait for future bliss,
His ways are too mysterious for thee".
Take a deep breath and meditate. Exhale.
At least you're neither Jonah nor the whale.
A sudden start: I'm on a moonlit plain,
up to my waist in gently swaying grass.
The air is warm and wet, it smells like rain.
The sky's up close, a magnifying glass.
A rolling thunder turns into a mare,
dark, living shadow, eyes like orange embers,
her nostrils glow and sparkle as they flare.
I take a step towards her. She remembers
and lets me get up close. That's right, she knows,
we do not need to labor or pretend.
Her hot breath on my face, we're nose to nose.
An enemy so old, she's like a friend.
Well, shall we ride again, just you and I?
The stars wink out and darkness fills the sky.