Sisley's paintbrush

Sizzling yolk colored
autumn leaves through
the window - painted
great like by Sisley
pointed - printed
wriggling in the wind
through the glass
enamouredly floating
one by one - dying
in a wondrous moment
of nature's scream
look at me - I am your
--s for the t ..i ..m..eee

Silly flue poem

got swine flue
or just normal goo?
fever and cough
enough is enough
I had a shot
on the usual dot
except maybe
it is only me
all the time
rhino sublime
Foolish poet
drink a Moet!

Flottante passee

Tiens, la musique reste
dans mon coeur inquiet
sans me laisser un moment
ne me calme jamais
trissesse - bonjour encore
ma jeunesse passee
Bien, la memoire faible
dans la tete boulversee
pousse vivement
ma poitrine se sent mal
mon petit passe traverse
les notes flottantes.

Addicted Donna Domestica?

Time steeler away from cleaning
cooking - donna domestica
vocal charmer!
snake charmer?
pants-away charmer?
donna domestica dreams
herself away from reality
now, with a healthy sense
of humor she lacked
when young -
her favorite is
her idol with the ultimate donna
moi - piggy!

To Placido Domingo

The past on Facebook

just for the fun of it
typed a name
one appeared - correctly
a question
and bingo - not even
six degrees of separation
right there
on line on the line
of a more innocent time
where everything
was black and white
and not the shades
of gray and grey

Sunday in suburbia anno 2009

You Tube in the background
an old fogey in the foreground
listening to her favorites
of opera's foremost vocalist
and stealing more than a peek
what to do on a cool dull Sunday
in suburbia after a long week?
In olden days we played cards
we knitted we dug in our yards
we had tea with cakes we wrote
letters to friends and foe
life intertwined another way
it bore a twinkle of yester sound
from the highest to the ground
yet, times are changing
and time is a changeling....

Frustration in code

how gray matter
pertains to unfold
code upon code
upon code
how well learning
stimulates more
learning code
upon code
how unobtainable
reaching out
to the brain's
code
how frustrating
this failure
to decode the
odec!

A teacher's frustration

HOPE

Gorgeous gorgon
another label
another word
for a female
but by placing
a civil noun
in front of the
brandishing stigma
you change the word
and give it HOPE

Viva technologia!( A slam poem)

A hesitant start of romantic
showing of dancing raindrops
and taken over by
beautiful dark somber-laden
notes of the clarinet
of impressionistic character
taking me on a spin
beyond where the words go
where only the birds flutter
in the autumn winds
dancing with Hecuba
stark and demanding sounds
a ballet not unlike
the Disney of yore
elephants in frou-frou
alas suddenly it is scenes
from flight of Nazi-German Jews
somewhere in Poland's forests
screams and thunder of
battalions from the 1812
and back to quiet waves
on a calm sea-board
ending on a drumming roll
shouts of the composer
beating himself up
for doing this kind of
haunting sphere.


(Ernest Chausson, Symphonie 20, Tres Lent)

The Vølva's prophecy

Wayward tiredness hit suddenly
the weather worn Vølva
she had walked a weary way
oozing of other ornamentation
than her usual brilliance
contrary to the everyday excitement
she was completely exhausted
not from anything avowed that she
could pinpoint or a place known;
it was the autumnal austerity
or maybe the wintry worry.

The summer had been what she wanted
so lots of glorious going-ons
had filled her sight of that season.

With some terrible threnian trepidation
she did not conjecture comfortable chills
but dark fearful physical fevers
the ever-lasting white lights,
covert wars, furtive diseases,
whose origins could not be observed,
but worse of all a dissatisfaction
in all humanity with themselves
their lots, their contemplations
of spineless spirituality -
the me-me-me winning out over
the gentle - genuine - gestation
of inane, perhaps insane goodness
that the Vølva after all felt
was present in any human soul.

Her brow was furrowed - her body bent
she schlepped her sandalled feet
along the river bed near where
she knew to find the old tree Ygdrasil
she was seeing a war not stopped
when it could have been
hatred blossoming in all its might
when it could have been - curbed
bigotry of religious and other kinds
when they could have been hindered.
With what the water nymphs seemed to ask?
With education and humility
with emancipation and humor
with endowing the female population
a head start in providing for their houses
thereby making them the decision makers
not the testosterone-filled übermale.
Yet the Vølva had waited and she had
even spoken to Sophia her wise sister
about whether it was possible to veer
from one form of brain-part to another?
That deed was debatable - even an evolution
not truly desired, except .... except...
Was it possible to combine
the male with the female side
and in a large orgy transcend
like Inana had visited the underworld
only to find her dead-beat husband
who was just fine, given he could not care
whether his goddess wife was with him or not.
This transformation would not truly happen
in this dual double-headed vital world.

The wondering Vølva waited at Yggdrasil,
the life tree, looking vexed, towards the west
from where there is no way back.
Gradually she glimpsed something
in the dubious distance illuminated
she could not pick out what it was.

A great auburn sunset finally set
over the austere autumnal landscape
that surrounded the augural Vølva
She gazed and gloomily glimpsed a tiny figure...
Could it be ... her knight - her Shmuel...?
She still desired him - had he been a mere mirage
whom she as a female sometimes wanted,
her alter ego, if only for a transitory time
out of lust, out of romantic yearnings?
Her foremothers of mythological minds
had not been so lucky with their males
there was nothing, but rape and slander
and wars of desire - for a fleeting moment
of sensual sex and phallic progeniture.

No, this figure was fixedly female ...
her belowed daughter appeared
to her in a phoenix form getting ready
for nesting and burning - horror slighted
the profundicated seeress as she stretched
out her palms against the sight -
knowing in her heart that what she saw
was the end of her world as she knew it.

Against the backdrop of the resplendent sunset
with the wings of her daughter's die
brilliant - a thousand emblazoned auras
of all the fecund sanguine vermilion
she watched as the phoenix burned
and out of the ashes from her vision
she saw slowly her daughter's rebirth
as well as - another - of her own blood
the wonderful world of a earthly yield
near Ygdrasil, the old life tree,
and tears dropped from her teal eyes -
the Vølva embraced her sight's victory.

Seniora moment

Getting distracted
more easily - tired
but it doesn't take
away the fact that
I did something
asinine - inane
is it the feared
Alzheimer's disease
or am I just wired
getting subtracted?

Heightened fall

hallowed Fall
hell-bent dancing
to your drawl
hidden away
gone forever
that summer's night
of mellowness
into augur's yawl
a penny paid
to Charon's fowl
more than prancing
harrowed Fall

A fairy day

A glorious warm fall day
people smile - are friendly
you drink and you eat
you see and you listen
you partake and you gawk
(granted you pay for this
but when don't you?)
however, under the trees
gently hidden from the sun
in ancient clothing models
your shadow floats away
and just today you are
what you normally never are
drawn out from yourself
surrounded by fairy dust
and autumnal ancient joy
a fresh breath of dreams
later again fait accompli

Bumper dumber

finally I was
a total twerp
my common-sense
was so gone
but in all fairness
the blinker of the truck
was not on
so I assumed
wrongly that
the lorry had stopped -
my bumper knocked down

My mother's dress

A golden lame dress created
for my mother's beauty
I still can wear it
she was a lady
of the old kind
I am a woman
of the newer state
a world apart
the fate of that dress
which my mother wore twice
will be unknown -
sailing across the seas
to the country in which
it was designed
and I shall applaud
that someone else
will use it -
it is a beauty
- one hitch -
an itch - shh ..
so the beauty that once
was my mother's
must have been born
with patience ....

Feeling of fall

coral shimmering red
with autumn's call
October's on the dot
colors of yellow diamonds
mellow rubies -
cooler emeralds
not even one single stone
can describe the sight
of the neighborhood trees
feasting observant eyes
smelling the all-coming decay
enjoy every moment before
floral heightens dead