A thousand and one tales

Scheherazade, a queen
Told stories of sex and debauchery
Of fun and of serene
Women clad in colors of strawberry
Of men who were deem'd
To be cuckolded - or of merry
A sultan and an odalisque
Who lived according to their beliefs.
Arabian tales of fantasy
A library of pseudo-reality
Yet, a treasure of the mind
No fantatic can ever it bind.

Why, Sherlock?

Sherlock Holmes and Co.
At least 100 years plus
Still fascinates today
Because evil will always
Have enthusiasts
And solving or guessing
The reason for crime
Will drive detectives
As well as ordinary people
As to why committing
Whatever deed
Is deemed against the laws
Up the garden wall
As to motives when
The reason might
Just be because ....
Ach, due to humanity's
Inconsistency and frailty
Or just because you could?

Newspaper Haiku

The Washington Post
Is a small town newspaper
Against "Le Monde".

World's view ends

With murders and mayhem
No good news feed
From Timbuktu to Bethlehem
A rare philantrophic deed
The older I get
In disillusion sets
Is it a surprise
That we direct
And surely justify
With heads erect
Facebook and friends
To combat fatigue
With the world's miens
This is major league.
Alas, no answer in vogue
Our ethos gone rogue.

A woman I knew

Everything happens
for a reason - sometimes -
but this time it was
to hear about somebody's death
at a Christmas party.

A neighbor who loved
her husband, her children,
life and people,
was generous and fun-loving
as well as a good cook
and taught my kids
to accept opera
when they came to her house.

Lillian - so many times
we have been to your home
you were our "second" grandma
and then you moved away
slowly being stalked by
Alzheimer's - staying
with your beloved daughter.

Tonight neighbors invited me
into your home - your kitchen
which you fought for
your lovely red ceiling
brightened it up - you said.
You were so vivid there
next to me - that I had
to seek solitude and quiet.

Wonderful delectable meals
you made for us and others -
you would have loved it tonight
kids all over - the home decked out
yet I remember Tom too.
You were completely devastated
when he died so (I think)
you planned to be with him
as soon as you could.

Thanks for lovely times
thank you for being you
with Pavarotti in the background
and Tony Bennets Christmas songs
I still picture you with
a spoon in the one hand
and a bonmots in the other
cheering life as it should be.

La Vulve d'une Voelva

Volva Vigga rememorait paisiblement
des vielles histoires sur son village.
Vers des merveilles montagnes et de la mer
ses yeux bleus/verts se debordaient
la vue impressionante et ancienne.
Elle reflechissait profondement
sur l'existence essentielle surtout
entre les hommes inpaisibles impatients
et les fatalitees feminines de l'autre.
Comment puisse-t-on avoir des etres
qui ne connaisse pas leur propre espece
Est-ce-que voila la difference
devait-elle a l'age qu'elle avait encore
une fois reeduquer de quoi il s'agirait?
Elle secoua sa tete de rousse
et cria vivement en ravalant sa colere
et ses frustrations feroces et femelles.


La Volva reconnait le besoin de la sexualite
elle n'etait pas encore morte dans son corps.
D'ailleurs elle aurait la patience patriote
de montrer aux etres ce qu'il faillait faire
avec le corps concubin – helas
elle etait adolescente et amoureuse.
Or elle se rapellait qu'elle etait instruite
d'un amant aimable et infiniment infatigable
meme s'il pouvait presque etre son grand-pere.

D'ores et deja c'etait inutile et infame
la non- connaisance de l'anatomie archaique
meme les femmes non instruites non plus
etaient les menageres meres – avec un but
de satisfaire seulement leur mari mortel
Ou est-ce-que les epoux exigeants etaient
tellement des egoistes egrillards et ejacules
qu'ils ne pensaient jamais qu'a soi-meme.

La vieille Volva qui porte le nom Vigga,
ne se vauqait pas volontairement
au vieux vaurien vaniteux – meme
s'il la semblait sincere et solide.
Elle avait un ami franc et faineant
qui lui avait choquee, car il l'avait dit
qu'il faillait penser a son chair a soi.

Vigga, elle avait qu'une vie et le droit

Ode to the Children of Sandy Hook Elementary School

I will not have Christmas
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never see my mom
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never see my dad
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never see my brother
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never see my sister
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I never will play again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never read again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never watch TV again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will not join the little league
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never play piano again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never sing again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never enjoy a picnic
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never learn anything new
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never run in the snow
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never walk to the store
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never laugh again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never cry again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never meet new friends
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never draw pictures
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

I will never see the sun again
this year or any other year
because you came
to our school
and killed me.
Why?

Flash-flash back

In the car driving
out of the radio
comes the overture
Wagner's Flying Dutchman
and no longer

in suburbia -
saw with true, trusty
mind molecules
to Melbourne's in urbi
a day in August

In the wintry tide
I saw a friend
for the last time
sensing something
strangely finished.

I went that night
hearing among others
The ship of doom
His demise - the Danish
bitch could not bail out.

In the car driving
out of the radio
came forever tied
in my mind's morsels
The Aussie apparition.

Blank

I am blank
I am zero
I am no one

I am blank
I am sad
I am no hero

i am blank
i am nil
I am

Une perte inapercue

La perte de ma vie villageoise
Me tire au coeur
Pas une haute femme bourgeoise
Le vrai malheur
Ma tendre tension se leve
Surtout -partout
Quand l'endroit de mon reve
Est si loin - c'est fou
On ne choisit pas de sentir
Et pour de pas me mentir
Des fois la vie surement te jette
Un ennemi qui me guette
C'est dans mon ame amoureuse
La douleur reste tenebreuse.

Un aurevoir

Le dernier jour de me promener
ici dans mon village
le dernier temps pour prendre
un verre du cepage
de voir la lumiere belle
le paysage d'eclarage
un dernier moment pour dire
merci aux villageois
car ils ne me disent jamis
que tu ne sois pas chez toi
Par contre l'eau coule
et l'hiver sera longue
pour le temps qu'il vient
surtout je n'y songe
ce-la va passer tres vite
et tellement vif
le village a moi me verra
au moi du mai - siffle!

Another granny story

A grandmother's voice
of yesteryear
came out of the phone
into my ear
I listened, myself,
a grandmother too,
a rehash of our lives
turned red and blue;
red for joy of kids
and their progeny;
blue naturally for
our mutual odyssey -
travels and marriages
lost loves - yearnings -
the call ended with hope
and a lust for learning
more about ourselves
and the thing called life
mourning the world and
politics of strife.
But above all through
the wire came the reminder
of friendship with you,
Sandra, my world is kinder.

Bravo Philippe

Des mots de m. Le Maire
hier soir a la reunion
la derniere cette annee
etaient naturellement pour plaire
aux villageois du quartier.
Sagement il a laisse parler
un monsieur quinquagenaire
posant des questions monetaire
du village et du budget
ses confreres de la mairie
n'aimaient cette idiotie tumulaire
mais encore m.le Maire
etait poli et factuel
et parlait du financement clair
alors qu'un enfant pourrait
le comprendre que la condition cazouline
soit saine et spectaculaire
surtout en ce qui concerne
l'arrestations des chiens et des chattes
notre localite est surtout humanitaire.

Huh??

An experiment in 'fun'
turns out to be cumbersome
I feel like saying done
with a cummerbund
free to try some new
even though you can't chew
all the things in the world
fates to be swirled.

Happening?

A stroll along a country road
just like always in poems
in stories - something happens...
not - yesterday - the walk
was just a stroll.

Beach philo

On the beach the tide was out
but the clouds came over - fast
rain poured - not a soul
on the sand to be seen -
of course beneath
life goes on as usual.

Mes poutres grises

Mes poutres dans la maison francaise
sont grises, claires et epaises
de l'histoire medievale
et je regne ici presque infernale
car je les ai peint pour posteriorite
et la petite n'est pas de la mediocrite.