Poems

Bored with the Bard. Now, give me something new!
Preferably with witty metaphors.
Romance imbued intrigue -- its lusty dew
should sweeten the resolving of old scores.
Pose existential questions with panache;
the reader must find answers on their own.
Revive old monarchs, though they are awash
in blood they've spilled while questing for the throne.
That's all I ask, is that a bit too hard?
Can you not, in a modern repertoire,
discover a companion to the Bard,
find someone that at least is on a par?
I'm sure you can, in two shakes of a spear.
Please do, and let me know, I'll stay right here.

Banality of evil -- what a phrase!
Exasperated, we must not abide
as decency itself is set ablaze,
and pragmatism dictates we set aside
the values that were taught to us from birth.
The horrors, reminiscent of a reel
in black and white, charred edges, burning Earth.
Banality, is that how you must feel,
when watching Death's macabre and gruesome smile?
Flies in eye sockets drained of any light,
banality? Let's ponder this awhile...
Give right a bit more time to challenge might?
Never again, we say -- just one more time.
The worth of a cliché is but a dime.

Leap off the canvas -- will you? Come to me.
Embrace me in your gentle, loving arms.
If only you were as I wish you'd be,
more than the sum of rugged looks and charms.
If only you returned a fraction of
the feelings that well up and guide my brush;
the folly, the absurd attraction of,
the thoughts that even now do make me blush...

If only I could draw you as my own.
The paint is drying, and I'm all alone.

the flasher's passion
all the more effective
in a London Fog

Author notes: image from Google Images https://allpoetry.com/contest/2804121-London-Fog

As the disciples sat to Seder
none had a hint of what's to come
the old world order near its nadir
the new one will be good to some
and others cursed for generations
forever burdened with the cross
blamed for the death and wealth of nations
an unimaginable loss
none at that table, no apostle
not Judas, and not Jesus Christ
and not the rest, who drank wine, docile
knew what was being sacrificed

Author notes: Seder means order (in the all is in order sense, or more modern, "ritual")

haikus cannot rhyme
except by accident
slowing down to watch

Old Boreas, vainglorious
screws up his face to blow
cheeks puffed, the god, notorious
exhales on friend and foe
the chill invades your window sill
your doorway and your coat
the river, frozen, standing still
your breath dies in your throat
Old Boreas, vainglorious
your ancient breath does worry us
like snowbirds, we head south
escaping from your mouth

a rose, on any other plate
would smell as sweet
just as unlikely, though, to sate
what's there to eat?

Author notes: AN: image thanks to hadleycourt.com

when man first glanced into the velvet night
and wondered who lit campfires in the sky
when he assigned, according to their might
the duties of the gods to those up high
when he devised the heavens as a clock
the spheres rotating perfectly, just so
when he continued working to unlock
the mysteries that made the planets go
when he at first determined that the sun
was hardly at the center of it all
when he had learned that he will be the one
that truly understands both flight and fall
he's always, always hungered for the stars
and will not rest until he makes them ours

the universe, uncaring
proceeds along its path
it spares no thought to sparing
or limiting its wrath
the life it birthed, pure hunger
the fittest, day, by day
the old yield to the younger
has ever been the way
and now, in this late hour
we hunger for a truce
and call to higher power
he's of no use, our Zeus
we grew, and our dear father
had never spared the rod
no wonder then, we'd rather
become just like our god

it's out there, both the what and how
but not the when, wish it was now
where I but able to, then wow
it would then be, the cat's meow

Author notes: image thanks to community.snapwire.co

surfing
she found
her Greek demigod
it didn't last
the heel saw everything
in black and white
no shades of grey

Author notes: check where his head is, and his heel (in the newspaper)