Motionless
Statues stop me
I stand abruptly in wonder
paralyzed in transition
as I look and ponder
to feel the presence
of a figure so grand
I stare with insistence
wanting motion of sand
an acknowledgement
of historic lotion
a blink of the eye
a wave of the hand, a potion
or a quiet voice
speaking with command
Cristo del Otero
a Palencian chorus in band
Hanuman Murti blushing in power
we soak in dominance
from purpose of fear
the sword rises in prominance
running to the tomb
of Buddha in Leshan, in hiding
the shimmering gold
of Great Matzu is blinding
we evade one passion
only to view another
as the spear of Lord Shiva
is poised for new thrust to smother
Liberty is felt
in the skyward art
that points us to forever
that is future and past, I impart
as I unveil my heart
surrendering to stone
as my humilty
is caught...in the shadows of throne
8-22-14 DBP
Desk on a Porch
I am sitting so far
from my childhood bizarre
children scratching
their etchings attaching
the laughter and teasing
never ceasing
But it made me feel
a friendship congealed
Where sitting, so essential
whether for eyes or pals, preferential
and I could sense
the love letters dispensed
Sometimes a pointer
pounded, my scars anointed
and tears might drop
on my saddened top
Sometimes I was moved
in a circle approved
scraping the floor
facing front no more
The school now condo
and I am in rondo
laying in shade
without practising trade
David comes out
many mornings, no flout
he acknowleges me as treasure
and I see him in pleasure
he sits in his chair adjacent
creating me in nascence
thinking of school
and the Golden Rules
He thinks the lunch pail
is appropriate in grail
as in lengthy recess
I wait for the chidren, my address
8-20-14
The Eyes of My Mind
I suppose
in retrospect
nothing is invisible
we see things
with our eyes
or our imagination
one could argue
we don't
"see" things
that we don't
understand
but
if we don't understand things
maybe
they don't exist
at least in our own world
and let's face it
we are all really
in our own world
like a voyage at sea
our vision is afar
the infinite
sea to see
and when we dream
we see so timeless
and with eyes ashut
strange colours
and glitters
our brain aflutter
working alone
so
as I think
or think to think
I realize that
when you comprehend
the words of others
you say
"I see"
You see?
DBP 8-19-14
So Bad
so hard to define
doesn't actually matter
if it doesn't rhyme
opinion or fact
or musing or rant
it's just what the writer
wants to project
if the speling is badd
I don't care
I get the jist
and hope it's radd
sex and violence
is allowed
though
I prefer good taste
and humanity bestowed
play on words is cool
and limerick as a rule
makes me laugh
as there was a poet named Nash
whose could write those things in a dash
he wrote about fleas
stuck in a flue with flies
they left through a flaw
in a flash
but putting aside
deep intellect and pride
I have no conclusion to state
some are berated
but as fairness is due
the misfits are best
they write and laugh
in a creative fest
and don't say if the poem
is doo doo
8-2-14
Response to "2039"
Feline and Canine Worlds
There could be two versions
one so dreary
the other so cheery
yes, I fear the choice is a challenge
the world so polluted
that man is choking
and anger invoking
the powers that be unmoved
the violence continues
and hatred remains
greed rules with disdain
as we crawl in desperate fatigue
But I prefer to hope
that love conquers all
but for that, something must fall
as we collect it, and ensure it's demise
The rivers still flowing in exuberance
and the water so pure and fresh
enough for all, to feel ameshed
one world in spirit and goal
But for that, some help
will come from the stars
maybe Green families from Mars
will frolic and embrace us in aid
or children will rule
what a glorious thought
to upstage us in all that they sought
we smile and play in simple refrain
one last idea though
maybe our pets will take hold
the dogs and cats, we'll do as we're told
but hey! we already do!
DBP 8-21-14
The Hole
I was strolling
'oer the hills
the grasses sweeping
through evening chills
the sun was setting
the field was lit
so daintily
with stars so writ
the esker came
with rocky ridges
and a large round hole
a vacuous bridge
I shouted with anticipation
the echo resounded
I asked myself
what had been found
the hovel so tiny
no entry seemed hopeful
so I imagined what lay
in the village so gropeful
little men I thought
the bats as kings
the stalactites dripping wine
rounded 'mites as slings
the diminutive girls
were dancing with glee
the flittermice so gaga
dining in decree
the walls were covered
in drawings of snakes
and ornamental Gods
ancient Bat Queens like crakes
the music was squeaky
the butlers so quiet
the crickets in choir
in volumous vocal diet
trying to climb
the seats of the gentry
the scorpians planned
to invade their sentry
the beetles sang to
in unison of four
a hard days night
the party went till mor'
This fantasy world
a chiroptera society
caste in it's past
lacking in piety
I left the passage
thinking maybe to crawl
but the crevice to small
and my mind too unthralled
DBP 8-12-14
The Voice
a vocal refrain
of sweat and strain
of a lucid mind
or swirling glance
she sounds so sweet
I feel her heat
as she immerses from inside
the temperance of her face
I must join in
as my passions din
and my heart aflutters
as her sounds love mutters
she has seemed, never closer
as the waves touch me ribose
her eyes are twinkling
my heart is blinking
Her vibrato shakes me
as I quiver so nervously
the arousal kisses me
and I swoon in melody
I take her in my arms
her humming disarms
I am breathless with nummed lips
as she squeezes me, unyielding
We match our eyes
calm smiles reprise
briefly aware
of our presence...so bare
DBP 4-18-14
Puppets
Lurking or stirring
still or transfixed
the shadow's strength
lying in it's mystery encurring
It can be challenged
but not defeated
moved, but not unseated
despised but not angered
Hand silhouettes
a game to play
and camera creations
for Hitchcock suspence displayed
Solid, liquid or gas
I do not know, alas
a friend in warning
and a signal of time
A colossus reflecting
an image so near
perhaps it is me
a giant of man to fear?
As I look to the artist
to mirror the scene
another place the same
touching perfect in ream
Another and another
a seemingly infinite sight
as long as there is light
and dark to be other
We have the cameo delight
that inspires so bright
a cinema grip
enticing our bitter sip
DBP 8-4-14
Where?
three doorways
chronicling moorways
rolling in flatness
in Baskervillian splendour
open yet closed
sanity indiposed
hidden passages
of many insecure options
with galleried illustrations
framed to confused peceptive stations
caged cubes
diametric or spaced for rodents
crossing walls as if infinite
heading to rooms that ignite
creative tension
spinning in stubborn lines
growing like rectangular cells
hardwood strips accentuating linear quells
unreality juxtaposed
a journey to the staircase
escalating to pottery and sculpture
or a suspended courtyard in culture
marrying the "teriors"
messages walled in dialect
a hunt for clues that roam
to clarify a vision of home
DBP 8-16-14
Pressing Issue
Dirty work is fine
even hard scrubbing
can be divine
Cleaning the stove
is OK
a filthy toilet
needs work, that's fine
The fridge gets mouldy
and starts to smell
hey, that's swell
a good clean I can dwell
Vacuuming
doesn't really suck
(the hose could be stuck)
and dishes
although not my wishes
give an option to dry
but Sigh
Ironing!
I hate
I put off until late
those wrinkles persist
and I insist
to air dry instead
but if I must
it's press or bust
and I hope
that black iron oxide
clears up, besides
I can Glide my way
with some spray
and hope things flatten
and make my day
DBP 8-4-14
The Horse Trilogy
1- Sam the Ham
Old Sam, sad and begotten
his eyes so drooping
the milk route forgotten
and friends in trouping
His back asway
his walk delayed
as the flying roses
delight his day
he stops in retire
but strangely serene
on the chocolate buds
and stems of green
The cob-like pedestals
that honour his loyalty
announce his rest
and love of new fest
large sunken hooves
and meandering tail
portray his travail
as pauses in approve
Of his equus heart
and his field to prance
Old Sam can be thankful
and join in natures dance...
DBP 7-29-14
2- Monument to Plop
On the trail
so dusty and brown
the clippity-clop
of the equus clown
his back a sway
as he plops and prods
but still smiling amidst
the dry winds that play
that resounding clap
applauding the plains
as musical Grofe rains
on the tumbleweed map
a chorus so rythmic
a patter of western tale
revealing a west
that fought to prevail
7-29-14
3- Cobblestones
Clopping is the sound
of a beautiful bound
I can hear the click
not so lickety-split
sort of a "loud" patter patter
a so happy clatter
as the horses heels
sway and reel
there is no rush
soft stone to crush
as the mane in flow
blows back in fro
he smiles in glee
large teeth to see
as the clop sings
a song that rings
DBP 7-29-14
Quips Ahoy
A bite so sweet
it can't be beat...
the recipe found
on the browser so profound
Adding the HTTP
an ingredient so searched
facilitating the bake
that has me in lurch
The data is stored
I historisize my method
stateful information implored
my past simmered in lore
My results so authenticated
for third-party reputation afix
beyond the basics
that are required in mix
There is flour and eggs,
and shortening with sugar
elsewhere called biscuit
here a quickbread in tisket
We like our cookies
sometimes spicey and seasoned
chocolate and fruit
peanut butter, and nuts so reasoned
Made into animals
and Pinwheels so cut
Biscotto and shortbread
Fat Rascals in a rut
the counter a mess
like flies in a graveyard
pestle aflutter
sticking to the butter
Vintage blondies and brownies
snickerdoodling and caking
While the Rosette is digesting,
I consider my Fortune ingesting
I think in my stirring
how to create with more style
I must be a koekje
determined to rile
Resolute to be praised
as a baker who has molded
an aspiring career
that has neber enfolded
So I must understand, about
the viscosity of oils
and whether to press
or put in a mold as I toil
Making a sandwich
of Oreo constitution
or choosing oatmeal and raisin
but I Drop what Im doing
The burn is ensuing
I forgot about the first sheet
at least turn down the heat
or remove it for reviewing
7-25-14
how dare they say that
it never really happens
because my words are magic
lilting poetry so tragic
and sometimes witty and sharp
the voice of brilliance I say
yes vanity is my strength
as I listen to myself at length
it's not easy being profound
twisting words and phrases
playing with dancing letters
there is no one who is better
I sing my praises proudly
I'm an arrogant SOB
but self-awareness allows
me to take a stately bow
so please remember fully
that my writing is the best
my sentences flow like rivers
sending romantic quivers
if you think my attitude is suspect
and you think I'm a pompous ass
you might just be right
but I am a genius... of literary might
DeaBeePea 5-20-16TIME
Time is a mystery
we live with it night and day
every night
and every day
we never get to know it
its quickening speed
unendurable slowness
teasing us at play
just a minute
is never assured
it’s just a phrase
of immeasurable seconds
we have abn hour
we sometimes call seven days
and weeks turn to months
age our new age beckons
oldness or newness
we are never quite sure
a matter of perspective
as we glide through blue and grey
they say it flies
this element of space
but its wings are inside us
as our minds’ conclusions delay
all through the ages
we use the mother sun
and its rays that we absorb
in a timely and glowing sphere
the moon responds
with its expression of wonder
staring in eclipse
boasting its lunar year
more complex it gets
and more than watches we brandish
as things tick in disharmony
so difficult to measure
so now I intend
to ignore the minutes
and measure by breath
and accomplishments pleasure
DeaBeePea 5-22-16