Woman card NOW

Today in politics there is
a new curse: woman card:
wow:

 I got deeply offended
and for once I did en-
dow

The one candidate
a smart and proven
frau.

Even though no vote
is possible for me
bow

ing humbly to a man -?
Nevermore and NO kow-
tow.

Vive vitement

Des mots difficiles
Les expressions d'amour
car c'est tout les jours
qu'on a en besoin
de renforcement
surtout pas demain
car c'est le temps
qui si vite  coule
la vie qui roule
l'existence est labile.

Glass half empty

In another minute

my age has changed

I scream 

nothing I can do

In another second 

a child has died

Her mother  cries

nothing she can do

In another moment

a war is fought

People die

nothing anyone can do.

In another bit

the pollution grows

The Earth withers

nothing anyone can do.

Questions

Qui

A qui

Minuit

que

A quoi

Quand

dans

un jour

ou

dans les arbres

et le vent

Je 

cherche

Partout

Et trouve

Peut-etre?

No poem today

Did not want to write a poem
tonight
don't feel like it at all
in flight
of words and words
and slights
That's why no poetry
in sight.

Did not want to write a poem
today
I don't know why
so hey
the expressions haunt
and say
to this humble person
hurray.

Jumped in !

A weird feeling grabs my brain
of something coming - in vain
I search for reasons why
I do not have a pineal eye
knowing  it just in my bones
that a storm will come - moans -
Let's hope that I am wrong
to the day of my swan song.
Give me a few more years!
Seized - oops  the Faustian spheres.

Bardy Bard

A bairn in Avon was born
400 years for scorn
midnight ghosts and morns
laughter tears and hate
comedies - Lucrece's rape
secret finagling dates
beauty in lovely poetry
mocking for sure idolatry
was all he did notably
theater language - his lard
the scene a dark courtyard
hat off  :my bardy bard.

Skypie- yipii

J'ai une ami ailleurs
avec qui je ne parle pas souvent
mais des qu'on skype
c'est extremement evident
qu'on est de l'equipe
et on s'amuse  en rigolant
meme en haut parleur.

My messy desk - not really a poem

My messy desk is my sign of life
I do not mess with yours
thence my life is not thine
nor is yours ever mine.
Each person has a desk
whether it's real or not
a homeless carries hers along
a millionaire has a grand one.
Knowingly I smile at my mess
my little one is for my rest.

Inspired by a youthful play

New York and youthful wildness
Beguiled the stage tonight
But were I young again
Would I have then been
A knowing worldly thing?
In a zoological realm
Surviving a stage of life
Is all that matters
Without too many sores
Purposely or by luck
-wiser -  hey I can jump.

To the bard

Foul expression - your delight
Fun extraction - power's might
comedy's humane insights
Grin and bear of human plight
New words we still employ
400 year after and enjoy
Your plays and poems destroy
And inspire the ideas' alloy
The tragedies still play out
In yesterday's twist and shout
Handing on  a tray our lout
Of stupidity vanity and flout
 No true sonnet Will my hero
Death of quatrains in vitro.

A goal

To this day
poems fly
out of my addled brain cells
will my fingers continue
to create
destroy
embrace
the joys
of words and thoughts
unto the tempting keyboard
to the day
I'll die?

Epicure vive!

Un beau jour de se reveiller
apres tout - encore vivante
apart -des choses aberrantes
une surprise - un grand ballet
de Moscou ici  au cinema
un beau et parfait diorama
ou la vie est suspendue
a un moment detendu.

Friday's hateful job

I hate cleaning house
don't like a single mouse
therefore I must dust
wherefore I will wax
Bite the bullet- lady
shades no more hazy.

Angelus Novus

Klee's New Angel

Free in air

not paradise 

not hell

transgendering the space

the hands turning 

towards the body 

or backward 

humans should

be careful

what they wish for

history

is progress

as Benjamin said

transcending

in the mirror 

you see the light

alas too late

Now Klee's Angel

is old and tired?

Inspired by Paul Klee's Angelus Novus and Walter Benjamins comment:

From wikipedia:
In his ninth thesis in the essay “Theses on the Philosophy of History,” Walter Benjamin, who owned the print for many years, describes:

A Klee painting named Angelus Novus shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.^[1] 

Feet down

My feet tingle and swell\
they do not feel well
I could be more  healthy
then I would be wealthy
So one day - stop I
my  feet  and the rest die.

Aussie friend in memoriam

Every year on April 2.
I take a moment to remember
A man I met in Cambridge

He was a great guy
a poet a journalist a dreamer
just like me

Soul mates for sure
but to live with the same kind
seemed impossible

Fates took us far apart
he down under me here
we wrote letters

Fast forward 33 years
we saw each other again
for a brief moment

The next year he died
and I mourn him still
especially on his birthday.

Body lift?

Health and hurting limbs
While falling on the pavement
Makes me  thoroughly think
My body's bereavement
Should alert me to this fact
Son's admonishing sternly
Mom you have got to act
Weight baring - firmly!