Silver stars and golden rules -
Patch me up;set me down.
Marooned with some private ghouls,
She dances with a clown.
Mirror of the stars
Hung moon and comet train:
Mosquito bites
To live with pain,
And total uncertainty:
Nature's disdain
For persons over sixty.
hate
maim
kill
suffer
bleed
tears
begin
to
end
Entropy
the great divider
the cool comfort
of settling in
dissolving slowly
into dust
Autonomy
No carrots, no stick.
Neither guns
Nor butter.
Is this a sword, or a plowshare, I see before me
Handle toward my hand?
Fish?
Cut bait?
Fish?
Cut bait?
I am, therefore
(I think.)
What matter is this:
gray, with convolutions;
red, with blood:
Synapses, synopses,
Scrambled, good
with eggs and glass of suds
All in green
It truly seems
My love would go riding
Her horse of gold
Had eyes that rolled
Sent her in the grass sliding
There is a garden
where flowers fragrant with dew
intoxicate me
Monsoon season
Monsoon season is supposed to arrive
helping new thirsty plants to survive;
the sky is cloudy and grayly overcast
no wind to bring rain in a whoosh and a blast.
---BBB
I watch as the wolves in nature
Prowl deserted junk yards
Gobbling down steel ball bearings
Biting off tires and metal shards
Spying trucks up on the hill
Then moving in for the kill
The faithful dog sits and begs
a question:
"I have nothing but love to give,
unconditionally,
So why is it that,
when you behave badly,
they call you animals?"
My poem today is about silence.
Did you like my poem?
John Cage may have beaten you to that one, I'm afraid. Don't get sued though:
http://www.cnn.com/2002/SHOWBIZ/Music/09/23/uk.silence/
Funny how after his brilliant idea for '4:33', and his death, his publishers couldn't resist making a whole lot of noise....
I broke a silence once and when,
I tried to make it right again,
I failed.
I caught the glimpse of shadows past,
And reaching fingers sought to grasp,
Too late.
The past is not inviolate,
Nor are our errors slave to fate,
Just kismet.
The crushing silence
rings louder than the hopeful
cries of those enslaved
Do do that haiku that you do so well.
Sorry. Wrong thread.
and once again adieu,
z
z
Z
from Florida
My poem was meant to honor Yoko Ono.
Cav
I have seen Cage's silence and his nuances are vastly overrated. Even spontaneously written, my silence is much less noisy.
I would agree there Edgar.
