Hop makes you young

A village in full bloom
the kids are off from school
sounds of the mobilettes
roaring by making
the old folks hop out of their way.
Maybe that is why
the old fogies are so alert!

Une chatte dans mon village

Un jour ou je me promène
dans mon petit village
j'ai rencontré une chatte
qui m'ai dit, c'est a moi
cette petite ville
mais si tu serais gentille
tu pourrais la partager;
alors je lui ai dit
Je te respecte, j'espère
que tu feras la même.
Elle m'a regardée et s'est tournée.

Baking haiku

Creating a cake
without any recipe
only with my wit.

Don't do what I do!

Sitting in the alley behind my little house
reading suddenly a voice calls out
you should not sit in the currant air
you will catch a cold,
an old lady from the street calls out;
I tell her I am fine; she leaves.
In the market today I meet her again
she asks me if I am all right.
I said: You are like my mother,
I heeded your advice and went in.
She smiled - I could hear her chest
rattling!

Humanity scrutinized

In the fine houses
in the burbs'
each sits inside
mull their own thoughts.

In the little houses
in the village
everyone gets out
chats with their neighbors.

Of course, not all are friendly
but if you are not - ostracism.

Carcasonne haiku

Medieval fortress
adventure from a far past
Madam sounds the bell.

Sea haiku

Sea conversation
away from the beach unheard
avoiding topics

Visigothess

Borrowing a friend's computer
to email one's family and friends
is a true mitkva for an expatriate
Visigothess - a wonderful Vølva.

Without this the ties would be less
without the ties we cannot move
ties to our connextions
are the muscles of our days.

Visigothess understands this
wholeheartedly
because she is another expatriate
far away from her lands.

Whether you are a wanting vølva
or a wonderful visigothess
we all need the same thing
our strings - ourselves.

Chemistry ?

Is vague knowledge
an awareness of unconscious insight?
Is vaqueness enough
to warn about dangers?
Where from do we get
our "inbred" perceptions?
In the womb chemicals
are thrown at us incessantly!
Today's embryo is radiated
with mobile technology.
Will these sparkling sensors
twist our minds so?
Are vague emissions
a warm warning
of all conscious hurt?

Zealots

Masada to Montsegur
Auschwitz to the Gulags
one less heretic
one less ethnic
the powerful are afraid.
I am afraid of
zealots
of any kind!

Village haiku

Languedoc village
its heritage wine and Cathars
midst of sun and sea.

Sad restaurant haiku

Last year - had the best
I dreamt of that lamb cutlet.
The chef out to lunch!

The frog car

driving in the mountains
in and out, out and in -
back and forth
swaying the little Twingo
the frog car -
from one side to the other
often in the middle
croaking the horn
I became the frog princess.

Tramontanian past

My childhood spooks
because born by the sea
only a few days a year
the water was calm.
In the village of my dreams
- the tramontane -
I return to storms of my past.

Sad haiku

Prostrated person
hiding her face in childhood
neglects her duty.

Candy haiku

Return to childhood
eating odd candy gallore
very little sleep.

Garden

My firend's garden is in bloom
A garden tended for, cared for, loved
in the old country
My yard is different in the new country
it is a practical garden, a little less tended to...
perhaps too big?

Klampenborg Station

My compatriot
an old poet
Johannes V. Jensen
wrote on a trip
about Memphis Station.
This lurked in my mind
because I now wait for trains
in my country of my birth
just like the poet waited for
6 hours once in Memphis Tennesee.

My childhood's station
a beauty?
A reality where I found
the world.
From there I travelled to the city
from there I travelled the orb.

Klampenborg Station.

Under your old waiting roofs
of wrought iron
chiselled swung holders
I dreamt in my youth
of the earth I wanted to see.
Yet now when I return once
in a while
it is you I yearn for
a symbol of my virginal reveries.

Klampenborg station.

Your pavement
your rusty timber framed walls
your airy half sheltered colonade
with a glimpse of the ocean
when facing to town
everything
the sphere is hidden
in your old buildings
that once were brand new
signifying progress.
Today in our global warming
you still reminds me
that collectively we should
visit you and what you stand for.

Klampenborg Station
in your tracks my soul rests
especially
when the trains are delayed.

A Sunday walk

Childhood memories
of special happy days
with kids in tow
walking seeing everything
anew.
Dreams of walking
with grandson
showing him
the same I enjoyed
twice.

Tivoli Haiku

Tivoli Gardens
Sunday in May full of tulips
65000.

True road haiku

Road of memory
my childhood and pubescence
strangely still unchanged.

A couple

parallel runs of mundane tasks
one at home in a huge nation
the other at home in an old country
bound by feelings beyond belief

blank-void

out of the blank stare
lures a new insight
out of the void
spouts a cornucopia
...

The Id and I

Is the me Id?

I am the incorrigible me.
I cannot run away from me
like it or not - the me is I.

But I can change - circumstances can switch!
The core of me is the core of Id.
I can evolve - the me can evolve.

I absolve the me from whatever the me has done
alas, at night the me tells me what I'd wrong.

Parallelogram

I lift my head
somebody else bends it
I slurp a cup of coffee
somebody slurps a cup of tea
I pet my dog - someone pets a cat
I scratch my back- someone scratches her belly.

Someone makes her family dinner
I make my family breakfast
Someone takes a shower - I take out the trash
Somebody tends to their aging parent
I tend to a grave
Somebody cries at the war in their land
I cry with them.

Gerbils and poets

Gerbils must destroy
that cardboard roll
in their confinement cage.
Poets must describe
that feeling they have
inside their inner hide.
Gerbils and poets
are passionate gonzos.

Bra haiku

Nipples are sexy
brassieres covers them primly
bothersome fashion.

to a special man

you humor my humor
my idiotic idiosyncrasies
my crazy quirkiness
every day - always
love or lunacy?

May Morning

Mood for mellow music
"Moon River" on the player
May gray morning
somewhere on our planet
maybe my endorphins
will actively call me to dance
cause the news certainly do not.

Seussical stab

Out of the zoo
belly dancing Baloo
to my fancy kazoo
danced with a Roo
twisted with a Moo
smiled seeing YOU!

Lunch haiku

Concerts at lunch hour
is refreshing and noted
Youth - I applaud you.

On going to hear local college students'
lunch hour concert.

Clown's haiku

A clown among us
expressed gently a lost skill
laugh and know thyself.

More on Vigga the Volva

Vigga Volva digesting news
shuddered silently
wrinkling her bright brow.
Broaching her toils of work
she mumbled humbly
T'is is not going to be easy!
How can philosophical people
just gerrymanderingly accept
this whole wretched war.

Started on false fear
of invasion of the island
an islet so isolated
that another awesome attack
would be irrationally likely
like the one one scenic September.

Fear is a moving mover
and a shimmering shaker
therefore plain people believed
because the powerful powers posed
that this was their fulsome fear.

Ach, the way Vigga the Volva
warily sees the solemn situation.
It was an explanatory excuse
to get the weary wheels going.
Signs of economic decline
before the wary war was declared
slumpingly slither into
forgotten memories falsely
accused that it is not a war
about ominous burning oil
but about frightening freedom.

Volva Vigga shook her maidenly mane
and twirled a twist of her auburn locks
muttered while meandering
between the mighty moss
in the dark shade of the gleaming glade.

Why do Gaia's folks not adhere to
sensible sense and see twisting tales
for what they honestly hold?
Where was Sophia, her sensible sister?

Vigga the Volva was sorry
because Sophia had swearingly left -
not to return to the glimmering glade
for as long as the pesky people
who would not want sensational sensibility
and had forgotten all about
everlasting emissary enduring Erato.

Vigga the Volva haphazardly hastened
her nightly necromantic Nordic steps,
she was late for her throbbing toils
digging in the dire dirt for winding weeds
around her stout seedling planted
a full moon before Beltane's ballyhoo.

She started to weep wearily but well-spent
tears dropped daintily on the startling sprout.
Every tear every night reminded
Vigga the Volva of the many many people
who died for naught but hatred and gain.

If all the feisty females would go and cry
every eve and refuse their menfolk
the jubilant joys of conjoinment:
Lighthearted lusty Lysistrata.
Mayhap the menfolk would moan
and give up fearsome fulsome fights.
Although the pensive protagonist
would not biddingly bet on it.

Vigga the Volva lifted her head
crowned with beautiful auburn locks
of earthen eery shimmering sheen
and stared out in the dull darkness.
She stole another anxious look
down on her symphonic sycamore's
sprightly growing sprig.
It accepted her tears and dewdrops
from her almond-greyish eyes.

Vigga the Volva was going to toil
tending the newborn Yggdrasil.
Turning her back walking away
she would return the next eve -
her chilly cheeks hurt hauntingly
from her dried saline drops.

Muffled haiku

Presidential thought
musters civic correctness.
Muffled mask of mind.

Light

Crazy comments
from friend
lighten literally
dull day
Thousand thanks.

Again Elincalime!

De rêver

...un point de mon rêve
existe peut-être
et puis cela change
a un cauchemar
on ne sait jamais
si on rêve ou si on vit...

Je m'excuse haiku

Did I hit a spot
beyond what you tolerate?
Not with vile intent!

Shoes & society

Chinese binding equals
concubines or consorts

high heels - red lacquer
hieroglyphs of hookers

in certain cultures
women cannot wear
red foot wear for fear
of real branding

shoe shopping reveals
society's labels of ladies

narrow spiked heels
pertain to keeping
a choking reign on
wrenches, babes, gals

sports shoes occupy
equal space in few stores

observation only
shoe solution - alas - nil.

Timely haiku

Time keeping device
howls unheard in mi(d)st of night
Nevermore's delight.

May Day

May Day
hey day
dancing
prancing
around
abound
in flowers
of powers
unknown
full grown
spring moon
so soon
joys end
life's bend
black cat
begat
loon's play
on
May Day.

Frog haiku

Frogs, princes, and me
childhood full of fairy dreams
My prince is a toad.

A boy who was king haiku

King Tut's left-overs
represents a time in art
beauty's slavery.

Accidental haiku?

Serendipity
suggests eventuality.
Pure coincidence.

Dandelion haiku

Dandelion spits
its stuff to spread sundry seeds
survivor techniques.

Acupuncture haiku

Acupuncture sticks
on my back - on my hand - ten
only floating heath.

Mundane grook

I have to clean my living space
I do everything to avoid it.
Alas, I know if I don't sweep,
the ants and cockroaches will leap
to their ownership of my home.
Without fail - I must go to groom.

Engineer haiku

Breed of unique kind
thinking totally quirky
Engineer of min(d)(e).

T-shirt

The t shirt's story
you wonder?
Wikipedia says:
Sometime between
WW1-WW2
military underwear
became the T.
1950ies saw
Marlon Brando
epitomize
the shirt.
Now apart from
brand names
the T is entrenched
with slogans.
iT has become
our personal
declaration
love? hate? war?
The T-shirt
returns to
iTs roots.

Listen!!

When you chat with friends
you may not always get
what is going on with them.
Just be a friend - listen -
listen - and listen.
When you chat with your kids
you may not always find out
what they are up to.
But sometimes it pays
to just listen - listen - listen.
We do not have all the answers
I certainly do not and I challenge
anyone who says, "I know".
Anyone who says, "I know" does not listen.

Disappointed limerick

Oh, limerick of spring to come
it will be a spring to some -
how will it the woman affect
her needs, her deeds, her wondrous breasts.
He holds her very tight to him
it is only his certain whim
that brings his spring to again spring
alas – he does not make her ring.

Snobbery haiku

Meeting snootiness
reflects person's inbred fears.
Shrug off: C'est la vie.

Haiku with a slant

Puritanical
poses in person's mindset
is OK, judge not.

Someone human

She is talented
in wondrous ways
she can dance
she can paint
she can play.

She is endowed
with humor and wit
she can cook
she can write
she can twist.

She is brilliant
second to none
she is angry
she is hurt
she is glum.

Foresight haiku

Stark stormy stillness
cannot create catharsis.
Only observance.

Music haiku

Noteworthy music
harmony and counterpoints
memories in blink.

Deathly haiku

Killer killing kids
in rampage of ranting rage.
Incredulity.

Windy haiku

Arctic April winds
blowing budding blossoms off
Nature needs nurture.

Editing haiku

To edit writing
is terribly difficult
you must delegate.

Crap-apple haiku

Wunderbar vulvae
on crap-apple tree in spring
rotten to digest.

Orchid haiku

Odd orchid which blooms
on my dining-room table
is from daughter's beau.

Venetian haiku

Venetian bottle
perfumed in old memory
a whore of beauty

Imperfect haiku

through imperfect eyes
we see nature as perfect.
maybe new glasses?

A wise lady

Vigga the Völva smiled,
it had been a good morning.
Sophia, her highborn sister,
had met her and shared an instant
with herbal tea mixed with ideas.

Men would see the seance
as a infertile pourparler.
Vigga and Sophia spouted
feats for the forthcoming future;
long-term latest wrinkle.

Feeling fabulously fair
and respecting their differences
they flaunt their sisterhood,
though both lively ladies
navigate their ships strategically.

Vigga the Völva remembers
so many talks with her wise sister,
Sophia, and wishes for her wisdom.
At this monumental moment
she can only be thankful.

Words

Words are powerful -
distribute carefully.

Grinding words -
everyday abuse.

If they hurt -
refuse pain or ignore.

The use of slurs
labels the owner.

Words in anger
have started wars.

Words are potent -
disperse caressingly.

The word "freedom"
is for everyone.

Granny haiku

Longing for my arms
around you, little sweet one.
My co-gran will do!

History's judgement

In Mughal India
Mehrunissa reigned.

In Imperial China
one stands out - Cixi.

History's judgement
shaded of both ladies.

In the US Hillary
may be the first female president.

If she wins
history will be harsh.

Achoo!

Achoo - achoo
what can I do
to stop this cold
from getting hold?
Drink tea - lots
of herbal shots -
to delude myself
that I can shelf...
achoo - achoo
Nothing I can do
except my nose scold!

The Vagina ABC

The poker in my vagina
Attacks
The poker in my vagina
Beats
The poker in my vagina
Controls
The poker in my vagina
Drums
The poker in my vagina
Encroaches
The poker in my vagina
Fucks
The poker in my vagina
Grinds
The poker in my vagina
Hacks
The poker in my vagina
Itches
The poker in my vagina
Jeers
The poker in my vagina
Kicks
The poker in my vagina
Loathes
The poker in my vagina
Mocks
The poker in my vagina
Nullifies
The poker in my vagina
Oppresses
The poker in my vagina
Plunges
The poker in my vagina
Queues
The poker in my vagina
Rams
The poker in my vagina
Scorches
The poker in my vagina
Thrusts
The poker in my vagina
Uses
The poker in my vagina
Voids
The poker in my vagina
Wrecks
The poker in my vagina
Is xenophobic
The poker in my vagina
Yanks
The poker in my vagina
Zaps

On reading Eve Ensler's
"Insecure at Last"

The harbinger of Beltane

Völva Vigga stared somberly without
seeing
the last full moon before Beltane.
She had to clean out her wintry abode
and welcome spring to hawthorn and
myrtle’s bloom.
Her highborn sister Sophia with wisdom
had reminded her gently; it was time!
Völva Vigga pondered pensively over
this odd winter enticed with war and
withering.
What was the meandering meaning
of it all?
Sophia had quietly mentioned Tuatha De
Danaran,
beloved goddess of the people on the
Emerald Isle
worshipped in far away India aeons ago.
Beltane is ceremoniously celebrated
on the verdant Celtic lands in our time
with dancing around maypoles on the eve,
festive nourishing sweet cakes to break up,
so all participants get a fair share of
the food
in honour of the Queen of the dim dusk.
“Drink and be merry ye genuine godlings”.
Water is so life giving, and April showers
conceive lustrous blooms for us to enjoy -
without water - our saliva would be dust.
Danae, daughter to king Acrisius donated
this essential element and herefore severely
suffered.
So royal Dana will reclaim her gift to the orb
unless she is passionately pacified.

How could Völva Vigga lend a hand
except rummage in her mythology
of elfin folk and Odin’s lore for aid?
The spit of the old Völuspa’s song of earth’s
demise
turned Vigga off like the war avowal rap chords,
“Lo and behold”, she muttered musingly:
There must be a wondrous way
to alert the folks of this little eyelet earth.
Humane humans have only one shot.
Yet persisting in at best indiscriminately
ignorance
or foul play of the resolute ruthlessness
at worst
mortals must muster some kind of
self-determination
against the evil forces in this earth’s economy.
Mayhap the indigenous inhabitants could use heroic holmgang
for their viciously war minding ways.
Taking battles out of the economical equation
would then require people to become more personable
and try and solve some of their mundane messes.
Using fantastic forces, now speculatingly spent
on might’s machinery and out-flowing oil,
and creating constructive customs to painstakingly pave
a real road to save this glowing and growing globe
would be what Völva Vigga will audibly advocate.
Alas, this celebrant knows that only by channeling change
can this world survive – for their own kind kins.
With early education about our planetary plight
and teaching tolerance vigorously
might the human hobgoblins hobnob with
Queen Danae at beautiful Beltane’s
dancing around the metamorphic maypole.
Vigga the Völva wondered as she watered
the moonlit myrtle and hazy hawthorn.

Remembered that she too was part of the
hearty whole vivacious Völva Vigga vowed
to plant a seed of a symphonic sycamore.
One day mayhap it would groovily grow
into a yearning Ygdrasil where birds nest
and beneath which people play.

At Beltane with the rain gone
in the full-bodied firelit moony twilight
Völva Vigga gazed gladly in awe
at the harbinger of the tiny green sprightly sprig.
Her faery face blessed by the misty glow
beamed a mild and buoyant smile.

spring evening haiku

dazzling verdant scent
glimmering twilight flower
lustrous pearly brook

Phish!

Phish my Ass!
Steal my security?
Try you evils!
Quiet Monday
a suspicious email,
sailing through.
- Nope
I do not fall for it.
Sadly many do!

Grocery story

Check-out line
at the grocery store
one Sunday morn
asking the cashier
how she is doing?
Fine! And you?

I talk about
being split between
two kids and activities.
Jealousy and sibling
number order.

Cashier was number three
and was told all her
life that they only wanted
two!

Guess, who is taking care
of those parents!

So she never had kids?
Looked at me strangely
and told me how she
lost two kids by her
first wife-beating husband
and her second one died!

Good tidings though
she is engaged to an
old flame of her youth
with four kids,
bundles of grand kids,
a great-grand one plus
two more on the way.

One of his daughters
does not like her.

All within 5 minutes
at the grocery store
one early Sunday morn.

Once upon a fairy tale

Fairy tales of childhood
carry a light burden
they tell truths about us.

Ever afters of maturity
profess a profound wisdom
they tell tides of turmoil.

Legends of old age
return to telling stories
of "once upon a time".


Inspired by seeing "Into the Woods".

Souls in Space?

Black branes - gauge bosons
space time - 11 dimensions
not just the 4 included in
Einsteins theories -
string theory - mathematically
formulated - but not exact
what do they explain to a poet?
The usual humbling "factoid":
We can never know it all,
so when we die - do our souls
become part of polarization
of the worldsheet's memory?

Again thanks to Leo Abernathy.

Female sadness.

Feminism gone all wrong
Dating "Unhook'd": read:
To help young women succeed!

Competition very strong
between sexes now
women will want to it win!

Give and take what joy of love
the hook'ed yin and yang
sadly but in spirits drowned!



Reading "Unhooked" by Laura Sessions

Sitting with friends

Sitting with friends
all of a sudden
alienation
sitting with friends

chatting with friends
one evening
disaffection
chatting with friends

becoming quiet with friends
presently
secession.
Becoming quiet.

Daffodil Rubicon?

Daffodil: an epigram?
not in my word book!
A dazzling spring floret
hidden in my mind chest
my green Rubicon
of mixed carnal feelings.
Yet each budtime since
the wonderous jonquil
ships me to my crossroads.
Daffiness: the quip on me!

Thursday treasure

Last night was a treasure
you played and sang -
the surprise for me was
that you had mastered
some skill - brand new
that I did not know
you had acquired.
What a grand jewel
to get on a Thursday.

Cultivate righteousness

Cultural differences
cultivate divergent responses
from diverse personalities;
how come some wants
to curb your disparity
while claiming they are right?

Melting Dutch evening

Evening tide
chocolate time
craving
of a special kind
this need stems
from way back when
I was a child
and in our hutch
some wondrous
melting sweet Dutch
dark and tasty
wolfed well down
without a thought
to calories abound.
To this day when
dusk turn to night
my childish craving
returns full might.

Four years ago

Four years and umpteenth lives ago
a war
to keep the wheels going
on an assumed presumption
a war
four years and umpteenth lives ago.

Four years and umpteenth people ago
a war
to preempt a strike
on a nation full of oil
a war
four years and umpteenth people ago.

Four years and umpteenth souls ago
a war
to combat a puppet
put in by yourself
a war
four years and umpteenth souls ago.

Four years and umpteenth spirits ago
a war
struggling soldiers
on perilous ground
a war
four years and umpteenth spirits ago.

Four years and umpteenth zombies ago
a war
myriad civilians dead
harmed forever
a war
four years and umpteenth zombies ago.

Monday score?

Mortality ricochets calmly
in any medical statistics;
it is just that on Monday mornings
moribundity messes up
my weekly outlook.

Meekly posing the pale point:
how do the medical people
deal with the finality of death
without lumbering everyone
into a staggering score?

War song?

Oompapa Oompapa
Oompapa Oom
today was a good day
We drank a keg of rhum

Oompapa Oompapa
Oompapa Oom
Today was a good day
We twisted another's thumb.

Oompapa Oompapa
Oompapa Oom
Today was a good day
We killed another lump.

Oompapa Oompapa
Oomapa OOm
Today was a good day
We launched a dirty bomb.

Oompapa Oompapa
Oompapa OOm
Today was a good day
We had the grand triumph!

Stress and you

Stress provokes auditory loss.
Stress kindles visual impairment.
Stress results in undercurrent harm.
A nutcase ready for the funny farm?
No, a human fogging up a body
with sadness, anger, dismay - toss
it away - your (s)way!

Stewed soup

Life is the hometown
where I am not.
Yet homesick
for the treats
that I once got:
Tastes all abound.

Why do I summon
what I cannot
savor and chew?
Comfort me
with love and prod
my childhood's common.

Is love yonder food
when I cook up
brio and zest?
Daring me
to eat faerie's cup
of maturity stewed.

So my childish dreams
of treats galore
sweets and tang
will drown me
in fool's encore.
Yet the past still gleams.

Love survives?

"How can love survive?"
A theatrical duet.
The music hammers
the inner ear and eye.
2 years after suddenly.
Why?
An elderly balding man
belting the words
Patrick - the kind guy
who believed in
his partner strongly
That's how love complies!

Mindless mindset

Forged in childhood
perceptions of the world
unconsciously or deliberately
of our parental role models
are hard to combat.

Framed in adolescence
comprehensions of the matter
carelessly or calculatingly
of our learned perceptions
are harder to fight.

Flounced in adulthood
conceptions of tolerance
lackadaisically or unscrupulously
of my own obstinate notions
are the hardest to resist.

Pain

Shoulder pain
from somewhere
inactivity pain
from everywhere
psychosomatic pain
from nowhere?

Presidential Forgiveness

Presidential forgiveness
forges premeditated
predatory familiarity.
Perilous footpath
fairly prevalent
in political farces.

Librarian's lament

Overload of info
out on the net
help - what to do?
To limit my quest
to spot the find
precisely
concisely
is an eternal bind.

Always - never

Always look on the positive side of the knife
Macheath, the henchmen from hell
is a symbol of modern world's wit.

Always look of the positive side of the lie
we not ever whispered the words
find more scapegoats who fit.

Always look on the positive side of the strife
we kill each other more in toto
it was never us who started it.

Thanks to Eric Idle and Monty Python

Mutatis Mutandis

Dillettante:
Mutatis Mutandis
for the world I wish
with AL and his truth
showing the cause root
CO2 and greenhouse gasses
dwindling ice cap masses
that US Congress would wake
before it is way too late

The Earth:
Mutant Mensches
mend my dying fences
I cannot breathe
so therefore I seethe
tired - mired in dirt
I do not want to be your Earth.
Find another place
in the greater space!

Ashley

Völva Vigga viciously unwell
seeing to what infinite end
parents can doctor their flesh
under the guise of help
for their growing kin.
Taking the buds of breast
transmogrifies the child
of their own loins
under the screen of balm
for their bursting bairn.
Extracting the she-stuff
revised the being
of their little poor girl
to protect her from
future predatory raptors.
Boosting her androgens
to inhibit the formation
of the exceptional woman
for their fervent surmise:
a unique elfin - finer service.
Völva is trembling in distress
what did the doctors ponder
when operating on the chick,
their sacred hippocratic oath
or their names in med paper?
Vigga the Völva went to Sophia
her highborn sister - wisdom
and asked where will it end?
Uttered softly Sophia wrinkling,
"Vigga, you will have to forgive".

Judge the idosyncrasies?

Judgement
signifies the firm presumption
of superior knowledge.
Slant
gleans the twisted hypothesis
of latent preference.
Bias
presupposes the flawed inclination
of feeble idiosyncrasy.

Exceptional!

Exceptional children
you call the handicapped
I am one of those.

Peculiar children
you name the unfortunates
There are many of us.

Abnormal children
you label the commoners
We are all humans.

Fight

The same old fight
fighting with fists
not
fighting with wit
but
better is fighting
with wit
than with fists.
Wit is the wherewithal
of every fight.

Miasma

Retroviruses
a gallery
of greedy
RNAs
getting into
DNAs and
trouncing
the good genes.

Lentivirus -
slowpoke of
retroviri
is dormant
until it decides
to divest
its domain
and have a ball.

Thanks to
Elencalime!

Opera shortstop

Heroine howls
to be heard.
Hero hawks
his repartee
full of hauteur.

Hero hoots
his hankering
too tardy.
Heroine hums
her harmony.

On seeing the Met's Live Perfomance
of Eugene Onegin by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Stark reminder

Death endears
- assured of -
unconsciousness
evermore.....

Physical/psycho puff

Physical pain
heart's heave
spurts shock
releases reality
psycho-secrets
stoop stops
canned cavities
open obstreperously
still sojourn
painful paroxysm.