Poems

a lone balloon near water's edge
a floating remnant of a pledge
to "never, ever leave your side"
now looking for a place to hide
red faced, and sinking in its shame
it bears the blame

Author notes: Image from pixabay com

captured, wings flapping in midflight
as the sun's luscious, grapefruit light
directs their shadow down below
their wingtips bathing in its glow
perhaps they've come just for the view
and then they turn, as if on cue

Author notes: Image from chirpforbirds.com

Usher scans phone, and then ushers us in.
Speakers announce that the show must begin.
Actors today facing no easy task --
It is the audience that wears a mask.

First intermission: we're all at the bar,
buzzing: the playwright, have they gone too far?
Hamlet a woman? Petruchio the shrew?
What else is new, all in all, much ado.

End of the show, we spill out to the street.
Some rush away, feet that measure concrete.
Some even TikTok while they're on the go:
Excellent, horrible, or just so, so.

Avenues crawl with determined commuters
glued to their phones. Some whiz by on their scooters
trying to get to a better tomorrow.
Some beg or steal -- as to most -- they just borrow.

Grey and subdued as the bright LCDs
glare at each other, and tease follows tease,
Broadway as busy as ever it seems.
Something is missing, though.  Must be my dreams.

boat drifting in the clouds, unmoored
no ripples to disturb my ghost
and for the moment, the endured
recedes, as I do, from the coast
dark water swallows my intent
the oars abandoned. I'm content.

Author notes: image from maxpixel.net

Love, first discovered, a trial balloon;
saying it, we are so scared.
Does she feel it too? Or did I speak too soon?
Then she repeats it, and says, so do I,
and love, now freed, takes off into the sky.

Author notes: image from quotesgram.com

racing, racing to the bottom
truly, it is hard to fathom
in but weeks, from green to red
just as quickly, they are shed
falling, falling, curling, drying
summer's done, its splendor dying
remnants resting on the bottom
they've all fallen, here comes autumn

Reach for the moon and the stars? That's so done.
She will not settle for less than the sun.
Grab it! The world is your oyster!
Don't let them throttle and cloister your dreams.
Bottle that shine, we shall bask in its beams.

Author notes: image from ebsqart.com

Go on and flash your enigmatic smile.
No teeth today?  No, no, I understand.
Those walrus dentures, they do take a while,
and once you've had those, you tend to depend
on chewability that simply can't be beaten.
You may have heard that I invented those.
Without them, it's as if you haven't eaten.
Don't have to tell me, I am one who knows.
But still, what shall we tell your many fans?
They surely will expect a proper portrait.
Will they surmise the trouble at a glance?
Or worse, assume you simply can't afford it?
Eureka!  We shall say that this is how
you always smile.  And they?  They'll just say "wow!".

Memories' dustbin,
the years and their plunder
Feel like a has been:
what once made me wonder,
now in the attic; it soon overflows.
Nothing surprises. Will it ever? Who knows.

Author notes: image from marketingweek.com

head full of ideas, pocketful of change
some of these could be as wonderful and strange
as you can imagine, others likely not
some are in the margins, others, I forgot

Author notes: image thanks to headtopics.com

Some mountains in hilly Tibet
that haven't been scaled -- well, not yet
So said, Everest
Please, give it a rest
K2's ok too, don't forget

these birds of a feather
have gathered together

they keep their pink plumage
from whitening too much

like to stand on one leg
but the other's not peg

yes, they're banned in some yards
they do send their regards

some will call these birds pinko
I put up a stink, though

those are far off their marks
they don't canvas for Marx