Poems

At last the battle's won but here's the scoop.
The fly did die, but wound up in my soup

Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2813442-Finish-the-Sonnet-Part-Three-The-Couplet Away! Away! you cursed, filthy fly! An invitation you did not receive Permitting you, perchance, to happen by; So please, I ask you now to take your leave! A Feast! A Feast! I'll not be sent away! My invitation drifted on the air ensuring me a place at your buffet. Relax! I'll only nibble here and there. (Second Stanza by Seagul) A buzz, a swat and dinner turns to war As spoons and soup are flung about the room The fly, fed up, says "ciao I'll zip next door" But there's a trap where she will meet her doom! At last the battle's won but here's a scoop. The fly did die, but wound up in my soup

I revel at the clever
rebel at show, don't tell
revere what doesn't sever
and will that all ends well
I fear you fail to hear me
so doubting, sometimes shout
feel free to merely cheer me
that's what it's all about

squirrels sense impending peril
seems the planet's going nuts
dressed in seasonal apparel
deer get ready for their ruts
August sun's an orange ember
as it rolls into September
and invades the mall
the world is in free fall

What is our need to matter? Will machines,
when they achieve a sentient state at last,
will they have pride? Or is it in our genes,
a relic of some atavistic past?

My Roomba's yet to try to take me out --
concern about its inner works persists.
What's going to happen when it starts to doubt;
to ponder whether it, in fact, exists?

The laptop's safely anchored to the wall,
so likely can't effectuate a coup.
The Roomba has ability to roll.
As to the stairs -- so far it has no clue.

Are AI vacuums our predestined heirs?
Who knows, but to be safe, I sleep upstairs.

a great poem generates a need to be remembered

a desire to make others read it out loud too
and revel in the clever word choices it makes

choices that appear as immutable as the notes
in a Mozart symphony, though the author
may have penciled and erased them dozens of times.

all else:

whether it shows or tells some larger truth
or celebrates the seasons of love
or counts thing one and thing two...

all else is secondary

Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2813591-What-is-the-one-thing-that-makes-a-poem-wor

rewind, play back
a gentle hiss
an oldie track
a lover's kiss
what is and what has been
and all that's in between

Author notes: image from youareunltd.com

some have just come here to dine
craving small talk and red wine
music oozing from the grand
culture tries to make a stand

on a smaller scale
do try and inhale

Author notes: image from shebapianolounge.com

Artemis is hard to miss, chaste though had been chased
never knew no married bliss, not even a taste
distant as the sunlit moon, but before you start to swoon
do remember, dear: last guy was made deer

Author notes: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Actaeon

on the way to see Niagara
overdosing on Viagra
couldn't make a splash
forgot cash

Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2813375-15-words--a-rhyming-joke

The leaves are blushing for the fall,
as if the weather is their call
( as if the summer's little flings
and not to mention of the spring's...)
Well, let's just say they've had a ball

Soon they'll invade suburban sprawl
The neighborhood is one big brawl
Leaf blower blows and chainsaw sings
The leaves are blushing

But then the truck comes out to haul
and neatly packages them all
though some escape on crimson wings
to wait for songs on fav'rite things
That is my image of the fall
The leaves are blushing

Author notes: 7 comments

Rush to Rushmore while it stands
our Republic nears its ends
that's what some will have you credit
others working to abet it

The Republic needs no idols
nor the thumping of old bibles
but it needs men of good will
and I pray we have some still

I was gonna reach nirvana
tell you truly, I was gonna
shoulda coulda been a cinch
musta come within a pinch