What's in the News?
this was like a dinner bell
heard so many times
and sometimes the answers were interesting
as we counted our endurable dimes
reliable sources well-known
invited into our living rooms
telling us of things around the world
and even hope that blooms
the element of shock
waiting so humbly on our shoulders
heads shaking, hands sweating
as we see the cascading boulders
Now it seems, that news
is no longer news, just pain
gnawing away at our patience
dare say, more difficult to remain sane
That redundant word, change
laughable in our elitist world
where wealth has no desire
the blanket carpet of fear unfurled
sports scores don't mean much
but the escalation wild fire
riots and storms fed by our recklessness
the madman to inspire
since Walter Cronkite's tears
removing glasses for flow
unexplainable death
that seemed like a nightmare's blow
But now it's a toy
unwieldly in it's partisan coat
the colour of drying blood
where hope no longer floats
DeaBeePea 8-29-20

Final Days of...
final days
are not the end
but a beginning
of a slightly new perspective
back home again
from where you were
exercising imagination
and being reflective
full of appreciation
for accommodation
for your heart
to settle in
there will be another place
sometime soon
but first
my soul must be akin
seeing myself in a new light
looking around, with new eyes
purpose, potential
a gift to share
open to evaluation
this mixed up world
as I gradually enunciate
with honest dare
new visits will transpire
as joy always finds
its way through the cracks
melting its coat of smiles
so I bid farewell
but it's not goodbye
just a leave of past regret
for mistaken miles
DeaBeePea 8-27-20

Writing by Sparkle
through the dancing trees
still yet singing
lies a message
a miracle they see
this field of light
finding cracks in the sky
casting a quilt so bright
like musical fairies
xylophones of sparkle
on and off
as if teasing gold cherries
so playful in blinding shimmer
finding a path to my eyes
burning a kiss
with a hopeful glimmer
It doesn't seem real
this strange gleam
how can it happen
this silent but flaming peal
it's the impossible dream
telling its story
reviving our hearts
with its shining stream
a hello from the sun
in its bold proclamation
of dominance
and magic so spun
DeaBeePea 8-25-20

The Marinade of Nature
Making, in attempt
a tender world
spinning with the breeze
invisible love unfurled
The sun ducking
in and out, from the clouds
the tress yawning
so tired in the crowd
waiting for appreciation
an untouched passion
seeing the miracles
in their continuous ration
This magnificent blend
an ancient concoction
casting light on us
in the periled auction
The seasons and the rain
the hot and the cold
showing anger in storm
a message sometimes bold
humanity's false face
twisting this story
making this forever challenge
in returning to former glory
stirred into action
the sun now shines on the cast
performing a breath of life
hoisting its infinite mast
this river of nameless flavour
for us to taste
leaving a sweet glow
as we move on, in unjustified haste
DeaBeePea 8-23-20

The Deciding Factor
so many decisions
and end results
that seem inconclusive
when healing divisions
we try to cover it all
looking at needs and wants
as well as affordability
and the laws that nature calls
taking ethics and morals
and the balancing of immediacy
those things that counteract
causing that inner quarrel
taking root, that thought
then implanting the means
and then the final end
assessing for what we have fought
our conscience plays a part
as we begin to walk away
looking in the mirror
and talking to our heart
the path takes mettle
as we look further ahead
seeing a better world
for there's nothing less to settle
this factor is hope
and the forever human bond
considering all our neighbours
as our faith begins to elope
survival does not mean wealth
or total exhausting joy
but a modest contentment
and a peaceful loving health
DeaBeePea 8-22-20

Framed in in silence
teasing my roaming eyes
this special moment
calm, as time flies
chosen to sit
where it has been told to
in a dusty drawer
or on a wall facing you
I look at the unchanging image
yet my mind is not static
different feelings bloom
as if in a garden attic
The smiles are the same
and the hidden faces remain
but something is happening
to these stationary names
There is motion
And a conspicuous life
New messages, from quiet mouths
Some are apologies for strife
Others, wanting to know me
Penetrating questions
Previously, afraid to ask
Wanting, those unperformed sessions
I am sorry and sad
Yet, thankful and rejoicing
For this fascinating life
That my heart has been voicing
I wish I could hang all of them
From black and white to chroma bright
So I could be submerged
In memories, casting a thankful light
DeaBeePea 8-21-20

Looking Out the Same Window
Same glass
Same frame
as I look outside
at the nature game
Same tress
Same ground
and yet
it still seems profound
Same sheds
Same bushes
same sky
when it comes to shove to push
Same viewing eyes
Same aging body
as thoughts come and go
awe to embody
Same brick wall
Same picker fence
bringing to mind a few complaints
coming to my own defence
Same incidentals surrounding me
Same time ticking away life
keeping me balanced between love
and something called strife
But it's not the same
something is going on
an organic transformation
a continuum casting a spell, on this universal lawn
There is a minute explosion
blasting its miracle before me
and I open my soul to this blessing
and take a swim in this profound and beckoning sea
DeaBeePea 8-21-20

Dealing With Issues
A statement of broad scope
like breathing
little things
that leave us seething
what do we expect
we are human after all
creating havoc
always on sillyness' call
stress created
by doing what we want
and asking for what we can't have
needing things to flaunt
so I ask, what is an issue
is it everything around us
that makes us thinks and ponder
putting ourselves under the bus
We must laugh it this
idle chatter and occupation
failing to find comfort
in our current station
I have an issue with this parody
wondering why we continue
to exercise misunderstood practises
instead of simplifying our venue
But, I suppose I am guilty too
of thinking things will change
we're stuck with each other
on this vast and stilted range
So I shall not fret
about the eloquence of this verse
and just sit back and enjoy
our rituals, so diverse
DeaBeePea 8-21-20

Flower Colours
Roses are red
violets are blue
I'm a poet
but it's not evident
DeaBeePea 8-18-20

arriving with immediate deliberation
putting up the tent
must be immediate
before the word "work" overwhelms me
initially looking
for last guest residue
not wanting any signs of civilization
back to nature is my decree
many thoughts and questions
many common
like "do we have enough pegs"
and "is the beer cold yet"
and looking at the sky
good, no rain tonight
so sitting by the fire till curfew
sounds like a good bet
dinner, mmm
is four hours away
should I marinate the steak
well, let me have a beer and think
the next site over
is currently unoccupied
I hope it stays that way
the last thing I need nearby is some stupid dink
But if there were party-girls
well, I guess I could handle that
I might even be sociable
and invite them over for a drink
But more than likely
I'll delve into Raymond Chandler
before I have my big sleep
reading by the moonlights sweep
DeaBeePea 8-17-20

I wasn't at Woodstock...
this sixteen time
of paralyzing innocence
taking first steps to vision
in a head of indecision
where was I, I ask?
or was there cultural information
building on stage
of selfish rage
a place called Bethel
Yasgur's dairy farm
they came from near and far
some borrowing Dad's car
was this a counterculture
or an inevitable stream
meant to be
the opening of a new sea
Turn on your lights,
let it shine on me,
shine on your love light*
let my world grow bright
psychedelic rock
was offering its flight
in a jefferson airplane
of white rabbits strain
with a little help
from my friends
this journey of 378 miles
shining with its silver stiles
did I sense a thunderstorm
and was it a source for fear
the storm for a life
underestimating depression's strife
Does heat come in cans
and the opener lost
or is there a country joe naivete
keeping be at bay
the hendrix explosion
celebrating what we are
but not what we might become
as the strewn field waves goodbye
as ebb tide heaves a teary sigh
DeaBeePea 8-15-20

The Wall
what are the parameters
is there justification
bricks and mortar
on the edge of silence
can we climb over
this message of security
or is it fear
that has become our reliance
some can be flimsy
beckoning our opportunism
but still, they are just images
a haven for over-reaction
our barbed-wired eyes
projecting a perceived war
that no one really wants
unnecessary subtraction
of the proper ideals
helping us to refrain
from being post-hole diggers
growing dull with time
I suggest we sit back
and look at infinity
a healthier preoccupation
than counting dollars and dimes
gathering the stones and rocks
for that winsome field-fence
clearing the land for idle grasses
so we can watch the breeze
so, let's run and play
unconcerned with where the ball shall go
building community
that our hearts will seize
DeaBeePea 8-13-20

Everything you wanted to know about yourself*, but were afraid to ask...
This fictional life
that we read
as innocent bystanders
cutting the air with a knife
often saying, why me?
standing amongst others
as if in a parade
heading to a cliff, over the sea
others see you one way
yourself, another
but this is a worn-out point
as we go astray
this simmering anger that is hidden
is it really true
are we vengeful
pounding pavement so ridden
a long journey, at times trite
as we build denial
this mask
inhibiting our bite
Yes, certainly capable of love
but asking for too much
grasping at straws
with our tattered glove
there is definition in community
for that is our existence
a place we have duty
with no immunity
the ultimate question
is changing the world
something we were told we cannot do
in life's short session
DeaBeePea 8-13-20

Losing Track
They often say
it's the simple things
in life
and so, I witness time at play
The coordination of rhythm
of sleep and awareness
this basic schism
plotting images
dreams or reality
the sun rising
demanding the scrimmage
between myself and I
yes, humorous
but twisting my fate
with tired eyes
In darkness
a certain freedom
but also a tainted hide
in moonlit starkness
so the setting of PM or AM
or an anthology of memory
talking, to me or them?
this seduction of abstraction
justifying fear
not always a source of traction
Though, there is locomotion
as the endless track winds
clouded with stabbing emotion
DeaBeePea 8-12-20

heeding popular advice
the why worry syndrome
listening to now philosophies
relieving oneself of price
supposedly, a waste of time
but this irresistible force
keeps telling that wisdom
leads to this crime
So yes, I'm at fault
taking part in this fret
wondering what the hell will happen
if the insanity fails to halt
be happy, so they say
yes, I get it
as I cry with fear
and laugh, my eyes sarcastic prey
So, the wrinkles grow
and the brow is furrowed
and I write in poetic rant
with a frenetic glow
But I dare say, they are sparks
of combustible concern
driving the engine
that never parks
I don't believe the advice
as I sit in future's peril
divided between prayer and disdain
as I roll the sweating dice
Patience, questionable in probity
as entertainment's venue
takes me briefly away
to the miracles of oddity
DeaBeePea 8-11-20

The Trap
The slip, the slide
My feet are wet
Denials proud warning
Not leaving with the tide
Sticking to my hands
This cold and bitter sweat
Stubbornness avoiding cure
Where my upright body stands
That growing puddle of pity
A danger sign of fear
As I begin to walk
Towards that nearly forgotten city
That place of ups and downs
Were taken with salt's grain
And truths were told
With nodding, knowing, smiles and frowns
Where is the home of belief?
So roomy in love and hope
I know where the answer lies
But I'm lost in the meandering motif
So I wipe my feet
And join the sidewalk song
The melody that remembers
And forgives the withering heat
The natural victory of breath
Seems to rear its thankful sigh
And I laugh at myself
For acknowledging happiness’ death
What brought this wicked wind?
That has now subsided
Never sure, but aware
Of love’s power to rescind
DeaBeePea 8-10-20

Happy Birthday to a very special son....
I think each day
of my good fortune
for having such a wonderful son
so many good things to say
He has a wonderful heart
and shares his love so generously
Jeff, I hope you have a wonderful day
of which my love is a part
Love Dad

DeaBeePea 8-7-20

There are times
not often
but strikingly significant
Not a realistic view
but created by a collage
of tiresome confusion
So it is my state of mind
and nothing else
because very little, in this crazy world
is humdrum
There is a need for change
in all forms of nature
except the one the was originated
by a spiritual thrum
Although many, including me, are angry
we must gather in love
in protest and support
raising the thumb
When tomorrow's sun rises
this monotony will probably be gone
as hope has reappeared
as a growing crumb
I promise myself, to avoid
this disease of giving-up
because it is a form of death
ne'er humdrum
DeaBeePea 7-31-20

more lists
some lost
some found
defunct lists
illegible lists
coffee stained lists
all around
"what the hell is this for?" lists
under the carpet lists
lost love lists (long)
memories abound
crucial lists
"put off until tomorrow" lists
lists with emails
duties run aground
lists with numbers
forgotten lists
I hear that gasping sound
grocery lists
"books to buy" list
"movies that are a must-see" list
"lists to ignore list"... profound!
exhaustive lists
throw-away lists
extremely confusing lists
camouflaging the foreground
prioritize these lists I say
where to start
maybe I'll just wait
for someone's to call and expound
do you want to be on my list?
stand in line
and I'll be in touch
maybe... if I have a thought to propound
DeaBeePea 7-27-20

Poetry at the Movies
1923: A Woman of Paris
A Woman of Paris is a feature-length American silent film that debuted in 1923. The film, an atypical drama film for its creator, was written, directed, produced and later scored by Charlie Chaplin. It is also known as A Woman of Paris: A Drama of Fate.
A small French village for Paris
A plan of betrothal
But first, a rendezvous
Misunderstanding, impatience
A journey alone
A mistress, and life of luxury
The Latin Quarter
A coincidental meeting, fate
A cry for his artistic flair
A brush of oil
As his arm signals mourning
The reason of partition
Revival in the air
A painting of deception
Simple dress
The subtle romantic gesture
Inadequate in its result
Violent conflict
A gun in pocket
An innocent foyer
No one to exult
The eerie and quiet studio
Echoing death
Awaiting a new dawn
A gathering of flowers
Goodwill to the poor
The institutionalization of charity
Though tradition has gone
Lovers that pass in the day
Wondering of their peril
Unfamiliar with their eyes
Ignoring the beckoning cries
DeaBeePea 7-10-20

Weather Poem
Tomorrow will be 25 degrees
it will seem so cool
and delicious
it's 98.15 kelvin
didn't know that
said Casey
as he came to bat
DeaBeePea 7-10-20

Poetry at the Movies
If you want to watch a completely mad exploitative movie... this is it!
Manslaughter is a 1922 American silent drama film directed by Cecil B. DeMille and starring Thomas Meighan, Leatrice Joy, and Lois Wilson. It was scripted by Jeanie MacPherson adapted from the novel of the same name by Alice Duer Miller. The film portrays the main character, Lydia Thorne, as a thrill-seeking, self-entitled, and wild woman who do not have a reputation of thinking before acting.
Impulsiveness, a provocative vision
Blindness of spirit
High speed, high life
Madness, as sharp as a knife
Legal morality
And questions of rightful freedom
Kisses of empty passion
Holes not barred or rationed
Flirtation or jewels
The manipulative conclusion
This young generation at home
It’s just like Rome!
A pogo stick parade
Women boxing
Card games, and racy sonnets
Balzac, I shall swallow my bonnet
Conscience lost
Can it be found in this evil empire?
After a fine and stern warning
Apparent justice aborning
Accused, an intentional assassination
she meant to skid her car?
Now, to the Roman flashback
Of debauchery’s black
the defendant’s nubile body, her soft lips—
and the all-male jury
“Objection, your honor, the prosecutor has been reading smutty books again”
Is their truth in this ludicrous den?
Politics and understanding
Too hard to believe
But finding happiness can be strange
as we experience unlikely change
DeaBeePea 7-9-20.

Poetry at the Movies
1921: The Blot
The Blot is a 1921 American silent drama film directed by Lois Weber, who also co-wrote (with Marion Orth) and produced the film (with her then-husband, Phillips Smalley). The film tackles the social problem of genteel poverty, focusing on a struggling family. It stars Philip Hubbard, Margaret McWade, Claire Windsor, and Louis Calhern.
Weber filmed in real locations, using as much natural lighting as possible. Scenes were filmed on location around Los Angeles, particularly at the old University of Los Angeles campus, now Los Angeles City College. Many supporting roles were given to non-professionals.
The Blot was restored by Kevin Brownlow and David Gill for British television. It was screened at the San Francisco Silent Film Festival in 2002.
The Blot
The dead-end of dedication
Yielding to the game
regards, only for the ends
the means has gone to shame
but that pretty face
how it beckons him
but diffident she seems
her feelings are shadows dim
wealth and poverty are neighbors
a show of cake’s vanity
a desperate and feeble attempt
at life’s apathy and inanity
There are now rivals
A competition of questionable measure
As they display their prim
And artificial pleasure
But there is a changing heart
Not just love, but condolence
The the kindly gift
refused with inadvertence
The act of theft forgiven
Through the eyes of grace
And finally, seeing the light
They share a common face
The chasm now bridged
And now the motion is presented
To alter civilization’s blot
The air of romance scented
DeaBeePea 7-4-20

Poetry at the Movies
Way Down East 1920
Way Down East is a 1920 American silent romantic drama film directed by D. W. Griffith and starring Lillian Gish. It is one of four film adaptations of the melodramatic 19th century play Way Down East by Lottie Blair Parker. There were two earlier silent versions and one sound version in 1935 starring Henry Fonda.
Griffith's version is particularly remembered for its climax in which Lillian Gish's character is rescued from doom on an icy river.
Anna (Lillian Gish) is a poor country girl whom handsome man-about-town Lennox (Lowell Sherman) tricks into a fake wedding. When she becomes pregnant, he leaves her. She has the baby, named Trust Lennox, on her own.
Way Down East
Left alone
As trickery’s reward
Asking for a gift of strength
To stray from an evil sword
Blessed with a child
But a mocking life
Bowing to heaven
Yet courage still rife
The world proves small
As the stubborn past arrives
Claiming no identity
Where emptiness does thrive
Her lips with nothing to conquer
Just humility and silence
Searching for faith to cling
To an undefined reliance
Inevitably the voices cry
Telling of her misguided past
Her body now to castigate
To an icy river flowing fast
The truth is born
A party of the search
The rage of icy floes
Praying for miracle’s windy lurch
Before the final fall
We see the rescue so fair
The current, though bold
Allows a savior’s dare
We witness a betrothal parade
As a sign of salvation
the atonement of a village
cruelties abdication
DeaBeePea 7-3-20

Poetry at the Movies
Broken Blossoms 1919
Broken Blossoms or The Yellow Man and the Girl, often referred to simply as Broken Blossoms, is a 1919 American silent drama film directed by D. W. Griffith. It was distributed by United Artists and premiered on May 13, 1919. It stars Lillian Gish, Richard Barthelmess, and Donald Crisp, and tells the story of young girl, Lucy Burrows, who is abused by her alcoholic prizefighting father, Battling Burrows, and meets Cheng Huan, a kind-hearted Chinese man who falls in love with her.
Broken Blossom
Leaving exotic China
With Dreams
spread the gentle message
Buddha to the new land
New devotion
to the Broken Blossom
battered and scarred
a daughter of hopeless hands
The battling man
Stripping all spirit
The might weapon of rage
With ignorance empowered
Weak, near death
Rescued by faith and kinship
utopian room intrinsically flowered
Back to health
A bond of trust and heart
two unwanted outcasts
linked in eastern prayer
The gentle one
Taken back
To her childhood prison
A dungeon-like lair
In a silent room
But, it is too late
as the body silences too
Loyalty visits the final sigh
The slightest pale smile
As he questioning the journey
Where hopefulness flew
Face to face
Love and hate
Is there a reason
For the war of these fateful breaths
The hatchet and the bullet
The lifeless shrine
Bowing to Buddha
Joined by re-emerging death
DeaBeePea 7-2-20

Poetry at the Movies
M’Liss 1918
M'Liss is a 1918 American silent film directed by Marshall Neilan, written by Frances Marion and based on a Bret Harte story.
Paramount Pictures
Starring Mary Pickford
The hard life
Such a big difference
and dreams
Intimidating mountains
Teasing with hope
while fortunes are lost
in goodbye streams
M’Liss of desperation
Nowhere to turn
As wealth has never spoken
Her actions are viewed
As heroic
As the egg of a hen
Are life’s only token
The reluctant pursuit of education
rebellion ensues
But this is the chronology of resolve
The continuing indulgence of admiration
What is this spark
Its purpose
And chance to solve…
The Crime
And the corruptive trial
But the magic
Is of the free spirit and truth
Inspiring admittance
The saving of the innocent
The loyal friendship of youth
DeaBeePea 7-2-20

The Poetry Project: Poetry and the Movies
The Butcher Boy
The Butcher Boy is a 1917 American two-reel silent comedy film written by, directed by, and starring Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle and featuring Al St. John, Buster Keaton and Alice Lake. This was the first in Arbuckle's series of films with the Comique Film Corporation, and Keaton's film debut.
The Butcher Boy
The Grouch with the brittle beard
And the happy-go-lucky girl
and Fatty at the counter
surely, an ignis fatuus
Wielding a knife
Like an acrobatic swordsman
Weighing and wrapping
the lightning speed of apartatus
The string his finale
And that dog
the pepper grinder
What new tricks can there be
The boarding school principal
requires pepperoni
asked in a ‘cold storage’ way
oh… the battle-ax of little glee
In comes the jester
cash in the bucket
drowned in molasses murk
The interruption of checkers
the rhythm of growing chaos
a fiasco of jealous quirk
With a boiling solution
There begins a stomping farce
augmented with oneupmanship
brooms and dust
Errant laughter
Errant throws
A pie fight without pies
Ne’er a victor in this game of lower-crust
In pursuit of love
More mayhem
of a feminine mask display
The spanking jag
encompasses all
the results, inconclusive
at the Fatty and Slim ball
In the nick of time
The parsonage
Fresh sausage made every day
DeaBeePea 6-25-20

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