Dame Eve limerick

There once was a dame named Eve
she said I am able to conceive
whatever you desire
I light you a fire
And Adam slid up in her sleeve.

a fake world view

Good and bad
Trumpistic words
Divides the world
Into who’s right
Who can be had.
Fake news orb
Around the media
Day in day out
Tweets abound
So incredibly sad!

Alas even the poetess employs
Simplistic vocabulary due to
....

it ain't naught

ITUs and other female ilks
Are just potholes of life
Get over them and then
Move on to the next one.

Other deals - the sexual one
Traps the female felines
Buries itself deep inside
Negatively gnawing at
The girl/woman’s soul
Forever belittling her
to get over it. - No way

Fight on female warriors
mates or no mates -
the power of testosterone
should be wanted only
when you desire it.

Double Dutch Droste

Chocolate it was not
Although the colors
Are darkish and brown
their palates seem golden
So my childhood's treats
Flooded my buds as
The masterstrokes
Of infinite minuteness
Ģlided down tending
my feasting eyes.
Although it was truly a
An allegoric memory
Of when I was young.
My mother at her desk
The dog at her feet wagging.
The painters of Delft
Depicted what I have
...lost ...the cosiness
Of simplicissimus.
And the waterways
Spotted background
Sailed through my
Catemaranian brain
clouding the pigment
Vividly and voraciously.



On seeing the exhibit at
The National Gallery in D.C.
Vermeer and the Masters of
Genre painting and remembering
eating Droste chocolate

Vigga's behov

Vølven Vigga var vred
naturens nødskrig
kom fra hendes læber.
Hendes vulva flød
af frådende fynd
for hun havde brug
for fejlfrie stød mod
sin lidenskabelighed.
Både hendes Venus verden
og hendes skedes hede
længsel efter elskerens
mærkbare mandighed
skreg af savn - navnlig
nu - dagligdagens dont
var en let lidelse - thi
i liderlighedens land
var der kun en tung ting
som kunne tilfredsstille
ens levende legende legende.
Vølven svor en ellevild ed
på sin sten med Carpe diem
hvis modige og modne mening
fra Horats' klassiske værk
genklang i hendes gener
at hvis hun nåede sit mål
ville hun danse som de dårende
romerske vestalinder
ved Saturnalia's sabbat
og tåle de ryggesløses mark
især fordi hun virkeligt vidste
at hun havde  atter aftjent
sin  kolde kyskhedsperiode.

Doggie thoughts

They leave me every day
sometimes they come home tired
wonder where they have been
oftentimes they leave me
to go away and my siblings
come to babysit me
either by me staying with my brother
or I go to my sister's house
she was the one that
picked me up with my mother
My dad grumbles a lot
when he has to walk me
but he lets meh decide where
our walk takes us - I am the alpha female
- just not with my sis nor with my mom
My job is to keep watch
over our house - I don't bark
a whole lot-
I pull at my leash
I sniff everything - I love being out
and about town -
I get treats a lot - if I don't I beg
and most of the time it works
but I am sad when they leave
so they leave the radio on
I am getting deaf so when I sleep
and they get home I don't hear them
when I am upstairs in my bed
Do I do a good job?
I am only here for them
but are they here for me??
I wonder!! woof!!

Le temps numéro 2

Je prends mon temps
 Entre-temps
Pour rêver du temps
De tous les jours
Mais sans doute
Je le perds - le temps
Car il est précieux
Et c’est la route
De destruction du passé
 Dans le moment
Le monument du temps
Éternel d’être ici
Ou la bas - entre-temps
Il faut choisir le temps
De maintenant,

Family photo

Records of family lore
to everyone else a bore
but the family implicated
everything extrapolated
within a clan's inner core
visual snapshot of yore.

Egernets betydning

Egernets evigegyldige indsamling
af nødder hvert efterår til hamstring
for at eksistere endnu en tid
er som digterens selvforskyldte vid
at måtte skrive hver eneste dag
en tese eller et gruk - en ærlig sag
kernenes betydning for overleven
er poetens og egernets hjerteven.

Carpe diem a la Voelva

Vigga the Voelva trod wearily
along the path of well-known plodding
she mumbled to her listeners
the deers of the woodsy lands
the sun stroke her autumn auburn steaks
to the brook she took her well-worn clogs
clinging to her tired and throbbing feet
she was in no mood for thinking
for she was mad as the mime of yesteryear.
Only the cooling nature could calm her
even though her little part of woodlands
was only a speck - a spot of dirt
filled with trees and bushes and scrubs;
does and hinds met her seeking eyes
not afraid for theirs were these woods
only outside was daring danger.
Nature is what nature always was
stronger than anything else
the dark matter imploding stars
a sign of bleak blackness to remind
humankind of one haunting thing -
Vigga willed herself to walk slowly
aptly apparently calming down
her inner voelva alert anima  
inhaled the dark musky spirit
realizing slowly that after autumn
comes wintry winds and wants
but all of this is final and futile
only the daunting dawning day
matters completely and only
the present - persnickety or not -
would be weighty and valid
and if she were wasted tomorrow
today would be all she ever had.

Doom -doom -boum

Too much facebook
due to boredoom
must limit myself
to 30 minutes tops
but how can I when
the news are scary?
The loss of freedoom
and the only thing
is that my 120 friends
feel exactly the same:
the scariness of doom.

Commune naufragium dulce

night excitement

Caught coughing
A nightly attack
Fumbling fingers
Digging deep
For rescue med
In my backpack
Calms coughing

Stealing rights

Insurance of medical
matters matters
it will not pay for
a better medication
but pays for infusion.
What a deal!
A steal - next time
- a steel of will!

ponder haiku

Sitting on my bed
fate’s faded flower at night
My mind in turmoil

A nothing's note

Could not write a single line
no ideas to why
alas this it is non-poem
oh my oh my

So I need my cold coffee
go down 'n around
while typing and just moaning
a witch abound.

Just telling myself fly off
imaginary landscape
somewhere else
on a broom's cape

October's sure blahs
of autumn's discontent
just not in the mood
for --- hell's bent.

Floss - flush

A poem about flossing
is a worthy item
the world's gone mad
must to be lightened
it is awfully bad
so nature please bite'em
it sure needs flushing!

(With all the awful happenings 
nature should start again)

Bees are me

Your actions hurt others -
yet you have to react
in self-defense or because -
your ripple effect alters
the flap of bee wings
and the insect will fly
elsewhere and the scenario
changes at will or unwillingly.
Bees sting - and
people can throb too.