Sunday haiku

Sunday rolls around
different breakfast awaits
tradition upheld

Reve passionne

des rêves passionnes
sans le vouloir embrasses
a travers le logique
ce aphrodisiaque
se montre plus fort
que jamais - je m'endort
avec un sourire
je veux transcrire
le sentiment entre
la rougeâtre encre
et mes vielles cuisses
brûlant comme en soixante-huit
la passion de l'etre
etant fortement le maitre
se fait au bout des doigts
l'appetit obeit la loi

Sprained ankle

Fell down, obviously-
took a ride in an ambulance
x-rays - no broken bones
just a sprained ankle.

Sitting on my hiney
not able to jump, run
or even walk pitifully -
and only with a broom.

Nice crutches but
they do not work
for me with weak
arm muscles - ahh.

Hence, this useless
inane idiotic verse
'bout a bruise and
the unwarranted rest.

A sprained ankle

As I sitting with my foot in the air
I try not to too much despair
of all the things that could have happened
this is a minor accident - saddened
that I cannot run around for a few days
only to grin of my stupidity's delays.

Work of memory

A memory gone

taste, smell, feel,
hear or see it again -
Magically it appears,
no control -
so just embrace
and face it.

Often times
it is hard work
to overcome obstacles
from childhood traumas
- and perhaps
you will not succeed

but you should always
try - cause you never know
-
that memory may bring
soothing closure
or horrible nightmares
but facing it

you own it -
it will not own you.

My bed

Getting my bedroom back
due to laying of tiles
painting the walls
I have been sleeping elsewhere
but soon - maybe tonight
I shall return to my "normal" bed.
Fugitives and homeless
never have their own proper cots.
Each sleeping place has its history
violence - happiness
sweat - tears - screaming
exstasy - plain calmness
playfulness - joining
two backs away from each other
kids crawling in wtih you
dogs cats and other critters
ubiquituous bedbugs and dustmites
so many going-ons in a bed.
Maybe I shouldn't dream
of going back into my cradle?

Des disques de Francine et Max

Hier soir j'ai recu un tresor
les rhytmes sont en quatuor
des chansons francaises
sans la marseillaise
mais des serenades d'antan
pas trop des poemes d'occitan.
Les notes font un coup de ventre
dans mon coeur et epicentre.
Leur esprit ardent rapelle
des temps de ma jeunesse
a la folie parisienne
une etudiante pas rebelle
dans les nuits d'ivresse
ma saison proustienne.

Des carreaux

L'homme de ma vie est sur ses genoux
pour mettre les carrelages dans notre chambre
chacun represente nos mois ensemble
c'est un gentil et travailleur epoux
qui s'obstient de faire le plus possible
d'une maniere calme et paisible;
par contre, sa femme est toujours emotive
les coins de ses dalles sont volitive.

Un cauchemar

Confusion a l'office du tourisme
la révolution en est la cause
et M. le Maire a stipule
que chacun devra avoir trois tickets
pour le repas du quatorze juillet
pour qu'il n'aurait pas des gens
qui se serviraient d'un dîner
gratuitement - horreur...
Tous les gens veuillent
être avec les amis et leur famille
900 tickets pour 300 personnes
et la confusion est complète
des erreurs des batailles
de la vie calme bouleversée
peut-etre il faut ajouter
des tables a manger
pour que tout le monde soient
contents - un problème a résoudre
un autre cauchemar....

In search of .....?

Piling into the car
on the road to a winery
trata trata tah
Getting a taste
with bread and cheese
yumyum yumyum yuuum
a lunch under the tent
with - you guessed it - wine
ija ija ijee
A walk in a fete du vin
yielded not - tableau
oui oui oui oui - fini!

Un soir au bord de l"Orb

Un ete - une soiree
Beziers au crepuscule
L'eglise St Nazaire
se place en funambule;
et a l'amphitheatre
la foule calme ecoute
en mangeant des crevettes,
du vin rose glougloute;
la musique jazz moderne
du flair des manouches
mon ame se baigne vif
tendre et farouche.

Monetizing - never

To monetize or not
that is the question
for what is nobler in the mind
than a being believing
in the goodness of the Earth?
Alas - money is not
and shall not reign this blog
I still think hope and ideas
should be free - forever.

A cinematographic eve

A simple phone-message
ends up being a fabulous
and an eventful eve
with people saying goodbye
to an era of an old cinema
it will not longer be there
and 80 years of memories
gone down the tubes.
Later spending hours chatting
about this and that
extensive discussions
on religion, on life
while partaken in wine
at a cafe in the open air
the cicadas chirping
new moon rising over
the art-nouveau mansions
another night to remember.

A simple Sunday

Waking up to meet a friend
getting in a grand car
driving off to a village
with a market - on the early side

Putter around the stalls
buying veggies and an old book
sitting on a cafe in the shade
having a creme and a "noir".

Jumping into the car again
driving up the mountains
to the lands of my friend
with stunning views of the maquis.

Driving up to another ground
higher up with more of wild bushes
the smells of flower rosemary
lavender, thyme - earth.

Sadly deserted were the little huts
broken into many times
again driving away and down
to a big Sunday lunch.

The outside counrtyard was cozy
waiters hopping - and the meal
delightfully filling and French
with just two glass of wine.

Back to our own little crazy place
sitting outside his porch
reminiscing of days gone
and his sadness - lessening not.

Later in the eve he came at ate
a simple meal of the French
ratatouille and duck breast
a bottle of wine was shared.

Small-talked laughing listening
to musis opening to each other
that is what life should be like
and companionship of a chum.

A simple man

A hump of sorrow
in the body of a man
kicked him
so he almost couldn't enter
the cottage
where he and his wife
stayed for many years.
Everything hit him -
The cobwebs, the dirt,
the sheer emptiness.
Why am I in this place?
Did I do the right thing to come?
Nothing - just nothing
would help the loneliness
except maybe the friends
he and his wife had made
in this odd place.
But they would never
take the place of
the warm body, her smell
her smile, his life.

Maelstrom

A whirlpool - a vortex
we are living it
with the threats of financial falls
of debt burdens today.
If we get too close
we shall like the ancient ones
believed fall off the earth
or mayhap get sucked down
like Odysseus near Charybdis
but whatever we do
the mortal maelstrom awaits.

Un felibre

Des poetes ne sont pas des grands trompetes
leurs histoires donnent des reves noires
aux gens sans vouloir - restant des praticens -
leurs reveils - des peches - mal a l'orteil
Des fois ils font penser aux propres choix
et chaque jour le barde fait a son tour
pour mieux s'exprimer - horreur d'etre fastidieu -
en somme un felibre c'est un vide-pomme.

Un haiku risque

Les belles de Bruxelles
se promenent en demoiselles
- promesses sensuelles.

Camina burana added

Carmina Burana
of flesh and irony
the god named Kama
is showing vitally
sex is a dancing mamba
it is like simony.

Apparently this is my 1000 poem according
to the blog counter! So instead of a
sad poem - I thougth of living it a bit.

Sich Selbst

Mit Sehnsucht und Zorn
gehen einige in der Welt
und wissen nicht
wie sie eigentlich
sich dastellen koennen;
denn sie denken nur
an sich selbst.
Fuer sie gibt es
sehr selten
eine befriendige Loesung.
Nur unwillige halbherzige
Entwicklungen und ganz einfach
unbeugsamme Ahnung wurden sie
gegeben - nicht anderes.

Tossing Grook

This world is revolving
around each of us
strange how we see it
each to her own toss.

This globe is umbilical
and yet we do harm
we have learnt nothing
so she goes alarm.

The earth tolerates only
so much of abuse
humans hence - we must change
or she throws a noose.

Something is rotten

Denmark a tiny country
in a bowl with big fish
will never give an inch.

Denmark is a small kingdom
with Gargantuan aspirations
think - they know what's best.

Denmark is a megalomanic land
postulating they are special
and demand exceptional treatment

Denmark seen from a Dane outside
it doesn't subscribe to the Euro
out of Europe - you are "rocking the boat".

A small bleat on reading about
the ex-foreign minister's comment
on why he thinks the Danes should
not be in the EU.

Reste fidele

Comment est-ce que tu as decouvert
le personnage que tu es devenu?
Par erreur de la responsabilite familiale?
j'ai grandi et j'ai eu des enfants.
Ma femme m'a fait cocu et moi aussi
j'ai eu des affaires.

Et toi, mysterieux etre?
J'avais une copine on etait proche
mais des qu'elle me propose
de masturber - j'ai fuit.
22 ans que j'avais avant
d'accepter mon corps.


Quelle beaute dans l'esprit
qu'on trouve partout - si on s'ouvre
vers le monde diversifie.
Ne passe pas par les ruelles etroites
embrasse la progression soi-meme
cela serait toujours a l'autrui.

Des visages differente d'une femme

Une intellecto du jour
une demi-monde de la nuit
une description insuffisante
d'une personne de ma connaissance
une falaise en fleur
un abre aride et arque
n'importe quoi - se balance
une dame - transhumante.

Un jour de souvenir

Un jour allieurs
avec un tuteur
c'etait vraiment
le temps different.
On a vu les artisans
ainsi que des businessmans
et on a etudie l'architecture
sans oublier la nourriture
car on est en France
et la on fait la romance
du muguet et du saumon
le vin - on tourne en rond.
Voila un moment passe
le souvenir classe.

A village war?

Near the little brook leading
into the hamlet with the green
somewhere on the windswept plains
the Volva Vigga walked daily
wondering why it is difficult
for people to agree -
how wars start - over land.
She had been observing a friendly feud
for a few years now - shaking
her auburn tresses she muttered
why are friendly folks no longer
friendly, jolly and neighborly.
It all started when a neighbor's
house - which has some old hovels
behind it, adjacent and attached to it.
These abodes no longer inhabited
and were hazardous and dangerous.
In the house there were an woman
who lived alone, her spouse were
gone most of the time to wars,
but he had promised that he would return
to live with her in that little hovel.
Behind the hut were ruins -
they leaned on their walls
and the town council in its wisdom
had decided that the waning walls
should be torn down and let light in.
A few others were on the same lane
but across the alley way the neighbors
nearsightedly eyed an opportunity
to get some of that land in front
of their property, albeit crossing
the little - narrow but ancient lane.
The little lady knew that
she could not stand for the pressure
alone - until her husband would come
so she elected to be evasive.
She who says less does not promise.
The town council held a meeting
many of the inhabitants came
but those with true access were asked
to say what they wanted.
The lady with her little house
said that she would like some land
but was willing to let the neighbor
across the lane get some part to walk
in front of her claim - no good
The neighbor on their other side
with volatility and evocatively
said - she wanted a part just across
from her house - actually her daughter's.
The neighbors hemmed and hawed and
finally decided to go further away
(about a walk of less than one minute)
to get that big lot of land they wanted.
Vigga Voelva mused that the little woman
had told her the next day -
the neighbor's lady of the house
yelled and said they were extremely
angry with her for not following their wishes
and they did not want to see her
- for a while. - The woman had
met the neighbor accidentally
- how could they not - and
he had averted her eyes - and did not
respond to her friendly hello.
War was brewing in the little village.
Vigga the Voelva - nodded -
it was going to take time before
that knot would be cut and maybe never.
Alas, the little woman said to her,
but what if it had been them
having direct access to the land,
would they even have considered me?
There is nothing you can do or say
that will make people feel better
and besides, the wondering Voelva
was warily adding to her comment.
There is also your long gone husband
to kindly consider, he would never have
given them any access either, would he?
The little woman quietly looked ahead
dreaming of another world with no wars.
She shook her white mane, No.
Vigga the Voelva patted the woman
on her arm, Give them time,
after all they are getting a big plot.
She gave the little woman a sunny smile,
In the end it shall be all right.
They said goodbye and the wise Voelva
moved slowly back to her woodlands
and her house beyond the brook
near Yggdrasil - muttering mostly
to herself and the fey of the land.
No there will not be peace ever
only when man is gone then mother earth
can start breathing freely again.
She went down to the brook, looked
at all the debris from the village -
sighing, she went further up the stream
where she found another source of water
that came directly from the earth.
Here she thanked the great mother
and took her flask filling it with
the pristine, crystal clear water.
She smiled as she raised her flask
to her lips - drinking the liquid.
Cold and beautifully satisfying
the water slid down her throat.
She felt ready to go on and talk
to her highborn sister Sophia
and after that she would write
to her dear daughter Gemma Sarah.
The world would go on - and at least
the tiny squabbles of the people
did not bother the Grand Gaia.

Un fil d'Adriadne

Un fil d'Adriadne d'un jour
a commence il y a longtemps
qui se mene depuis des annees
je commence a me soumettre
meme si cela se montera
comme un fil de fer
en me donnant des eraflures
blessantes et sanglantes
je le suivrai - ouvertement
sans des arrieres-pensees.
Sauf si je ne le courtise pas
- la vie sera un trou grisant.

Un repas

Un homme tres viril -
un beau garcon -
dans sa jeunesse
essaie de rattraper
son don juan d'autrefois
mais ses companions
du village le connaissent
trop bien - et
le pauvre etait blesse
en s'enfuiant tot
pretendant
qu'il avait pas le temps
pour finir - le repas.

Une adresse aux amis

La gentilesse
progresse
sans cesse
chez les amis.
L'hotesse
et son mari
sont des gens
avec politesse
et sagesse
d'humeur avec
souplesse.

A Francine et Max

danger - born a woman.

To woman born - a girl
ravage, rapes, rage
that is her future
if born in many states.
Of woman born - a boy
murder, mayhem, madness
that is his outlook
How little femininity
is valued - without it
man could not exist.


In the Guardian today,
five countries,
Afghanistan, DRC Congo,
Pakistan, India, Somalia,
rank the most deplorable
places for women to be born.

Un grook sur la vie

L'heure a sonne
un fait banal
pour l'etre mort
un trait fatal
C'est la vie
un cas total.

Les traits des noms

Alexandre, Cesar, Napoleon,
tous les hommes de grand noms
et si on donne aux enfants
les leurs - pour histoire
des traits speciaux en revant
un d'eux soit un nouvel espoir.
Helena, Catharine, Eleanor
pas des memes tambour-majors
il y a toujours un trait sexuel
qu'il y en n'a pas chez les garcons
dommage - par ce que c'est cruel
- les femmes sont des flocons.

A Anibale et mon petit-fils

Sombre a l'ombre.

Memoires d'outre tombe
mais sur ce cote de la vie
sans lesquelles - trop tard.
Accepterons avec aplomb
apart de manger et boire
nous reste l'amour ravi.

Happy poetry

Happy poets are crazy oxymora
they do not exist
therefore I am obsolete.

Happy poetry will not last
only deep sadness
will reign over minds forever.

Happy thoughts, however, show
your ability to fight off
depression and kicks of time.

Happy people live much easier
or at least do not brood
so they fill their brains with joy.

Happiness is full of good endorphins
which can save your outlook
on the shitty, damning, unfair world.

Happy verses are easily expressed
they tend to fly away
only to be forgotten stanzas.

Tablets and Babylonians

The electronic tablets
are the newest gadgets
and yet we will not
like when clay was hot
the Babylonians scribes
wrote about their tribes
be able to completely router
to archaeologists of the future
whatever we were saying
but the ancients conveyings
will still stand tall
and our era will be gone for all.

Une existence impromptue

Incorrigible j'aime
la vie ici
sans les plans fixes
demandee hier
de me rendre quelque part
dans un mois et demi
j'ai dit non
car je ne sais pas
d'ou je suis demain.
Une existence impromptue
a la folie vivante.

Searching for what???

I do not truly believe
in a fortuitous happenstance
but in the case of where
I am currently residing
karma - kismet is present -
an incredible serendipity.
So even when going on
a menhir/an upright boulder
search - an walk with a
- you would call him -
diviner - devinator -
a searcher for magnetic fields
around the churches or
the ancient holy places
there must be more
than just air between
the earth and the divine mother
of our ancient Demeter.
She has called me
to this tiny spot of earth
to rest my weary bones
and not awakened spirit
- for it to grow into
an eloquent essence and
equalzing earthling
as well as a descendant
of an ancient rite of passage.
Death and the smelly moss
await me - a vineyard field
will be my solemn grave -
but before that happens
I am going to live
vacariously - vivaciously.

Gum and the world

Chewing gum is healthy
(specially if it's sugarless)
but not so very becoming
therefore it's something
that you do inside the house
to relieve the stress
of living and worrying
about the world - the belfry
in the town tells me ding ding
but I totally digress
with my muddled thinking
these strange murmurs of gum
the global communty's run
but the hygienists espouse
using gum you can do gently.

(Do not throw gum in the streets)

Cuntomat

In Denmark you feel free
- Danish girls especially
where they can be so blunt
to take photos of their cunts
installed at a music festival
photo in private your genitals.

Imaginary chat with a house!

Nine o'clock on a quiet Wednesday eve
what could happen if I walked out
disappeared forever - in lala land
to Shangri la - to Hades front gate,
oh wait he doesn't have one
and that Tibetean paradise exist not,
but my little French house's walls
of at least a yard thick presents itself
poignantly - presently
it does not want to be ignored.
Here I have stood for 700 years
and I am still standing -
I demand seriously to be taken
seriously for granted - I am
therefore I exist and don't forget
I shall still be here when you are gone!
Walk out - beat it go - but you seem
to enjoy my shelter like the others
countless, I tell you, most of them
fairly normal hardworking people.
I can remember in the 14 c the nuns
had built an adjacent building
to their nunnery - and I was it.
Sister Cecilia - our prioress
was devoted to her little flock
some of them sheltered the descendant
of Adalais - the owner of our church.
In 1637 I recall a baker and his wife
they made bread and love every day
and there were children running
around my heavy foundations.
Later in 1747 we had some bad years
and one man hanged himself from the rafter.
It is still there, the mark, although
you would not be able to find it.
A sole owner of the late 17000
was a curmudgeon and a drunk.
But his voice use to ring through
the walls - just when your daughter
just sang for your friends two weeks ago.
So dearest owner, stay and enjoy
the life of my history and I shall
yield more of it - when I feel like it.

Une homme comme les autres

Un homme s'indentifie
avec le fait de l'amour
tout qu'il en pense est
la manque de cette fonction.

Il regrette - il deplore
son emasculation permanente
il est autant si deprime
qu'il se sent un mort vivant.

Est-ce qu'il ne pouvait
se rendre utile d'autrement?
Quel dommage qu'il n'y a
que cela dans sa vie!

Il y en a d'autres qui
survivent avec sans.
Ils aident quand meme
leurs femmes aux manipulations.

L'esprit de la sexualite
reste toujours au fond
dans le centre du cerveau
pas dans la penetration.

Eyes

The eyes have it
seeing the world
in a different way.
I cannot decorate
a room for whatever
people would pay me
but there are those
who own that knack.

The ears have it
listening to
music and playing
it beautifully.
I can hear but
not get a peep out
alas somebody else's
talents are not given.

The touch has it
feeling the flair
of creating with
your hands has
also been me deprived
but I can knit
and I do on occasions.

The smell is it
most people have it
and that is important
because without it
you cannot taste.
Evolutionary culinary
sensual experiences
that I can do - sometimes!

The rich are moving again

"The rich are different"
wrote Scott Fitgerald
and money moves mountains
so a company selling coal
oil from China to Cuba
spreds its rings -
Glencore and Glasenberg
floating on the stock exchange
shares will change the way
the little people's pensions
will be valued -
the rich are diversifing
... again.

Early bird remix

Yonder fly a bird of prey
looking for his daily food
here and there he dips and bites
getting in a furious mood
not finding a field mouse
his shadow shows a blood feud
searching high and then low
if the food him eludes
his hunger drives him eagely
to find just the tasty morsel
a little bird whose wing broke
sitting sadly on a cornel
snapped up by an eager beak
a tweak - a crack - not cordial.

Good morning - day!

Good morning to my little house
away from man and a spouse
in splendid solitude
Good morning to my little village
where wines are produced - a vintage
of genuine rosy hue
Good morning to my little market
three days - of offers
a sane - real cue
Good morning to a new day
embrace it forever - in a way
it is the only - in situ.

A distant dream

Away - of my own choice
to where I have a tiny space
One day I hope it will be ours
from calm to turmoil
from sleep to awake
dichotomy's inner voice.

Rue Surcouf

Le coin de ma rue
loin du passe
reste dans ma memoire
avec les odeurs
du vrai moyen age.
Mes reflections nues
embrasse le pave
de mon futur refectoire
sans le brut creve coeur:
mon pelerinage.

Wild song on a morn

Viable solutions
can they be found
to any problem?

Vivid absolutions
can they be given
for any killing?

Wildebeasts' songs
of dreaming peace
are they possible?

Seasonal season

Seasonal season
not within reason
eyes noses treason
of blooming lesions
a true daemon
nature's semen
irony's paean!

Old high school girlfriends' reunion

A sad little everyday story
of a young woman who wanted
her old girlfriends to
come for drinks and chats
like when they were in
high school - bonding.

Out of the ten invited
only three came
one was certifiable sick
the other a nurse on-call
a third could not come
due to her husband of a year
just returned from a trip
one was working Friday nights
another living out of town
the others did not send
their lame excuses.

Is it a wonder that sometimes
women lose their old friends
and then lament why?
Maybe high school close
relationships are fizzling
not being so close
the times have changed.
I'll wager though that
in a couple of years
some of the others
all of sudden want to get together
and then, it will be too late!

An award dilemma

Read a paper: donning
moral awards
to fictional characters.
The bad guys/gals
depended upon
the view points;
the good ones
are not so easy
to describe.
Hitler still takes
first place
But the good one?
Buddha, Jesus,
Mother Theresa?
I would not be
so bold as to award
the goodness gold
to only one,
moral dilemma is,
can anyone ever be
only good or bad?
Honoring humanism -
because if you live
without hurting
anybody -
asserting yourself
as well as helping others
the idea of doing good
gets applauded
not the person.
Surely, even Hitler
must have been
honorable to somebody once.
A awkward award dilemma.

Freewheeling boobies

Freewheeling ???
boobies???
Heard on a morn's walk
stopped and laughed
uproariously,
reminiscenced
the seventies;
the Women's movements
were in vogue;
stronger women -
boobs as a phenomenon
of power-houses.
Ouch,
the outcome now seems
to be no-longer
so free-spirited -
but
tightly bound snugly fit.
Those days of hope....


Thanks to daughter for her comment

Innocuous question!

Innocuous question
ends up being
an over-blown act
of accusation
better -
to shut up
and gracefully
retreat.
Just always be prepared
to acknowledge
that not all people
take a probe well
and tops it off by
y o u
being the vilified!

Fey's trips

Fleeing floating fairies
come out at evening-tide

they dance in the dusk
they hover over land

the dust they spread
spills around the fields

in cities their blemishes
fabulously hide in alleys

the same dream of adventure
danger for all even modern folks

embodied in those little pixies
of summer's night's flurries

applause for nature's gift
of fey's daring polkas.

"A competition"

An operatic afternoon
in Virginia's Lyceum
my ears all perked up
not a tune's museum.
It was live and young
the competition stiff
but fun and well song.
Did the best singer win?
Soprano, tenor
baritone - no bass - in!
But what a way to pass
a noteworthy moment
wish would longer last'.

Einstein was right

Quartz gyros circled in a probe
around our old well-worn globe
covered in niobium - an alloy
of superconducting real McCoy
proved that without a doubt
Einstein's General Theory's clout
is working - minusculely
so for now he is still yours truly.



"BBC's news of Gravity Probe B"
May 4, 2011

Celebrating death

Celebrating death
is nothing new to mankind
but doing this blatantly
says only that you
do not value life
the base line
is this -
you clap your hands
when your enemy is dead
what about his/her children?
I am sure we all clapped
our hands when Hitler died.
But does that truly
make us better persons?
An old aunt used to say
that day the peace broke out,
now we just have to find
someone else to hate -
Oh I agree - you have to
be carefully taught
to love death
to hate anybody
of different belief,
different looking
different behaving
-
by all means
celebrate death instead of
l i f e.

Witches' wail haiku

Excessive rain brings
wails on Walpurgis New Moon
no bonfires will warm.

De Sade

Marquis de Sade
hid his atheism
his serious ideas
about human nature
in lurid tales
Gothic fantasies,
(although he did not
like these per se)
of sex and blinding
depictions of man's
deepest desires!
Today he would have
been put away
for good - .
Then his visits to
the insane asylum
was interrupted
by him being elected
to the revolutionary
congress in 1790es.
Only to be thrown out
again by Napoleon.
He is the ultimate
believer in freedom,
just putting it in
titillating letters.
Today - he would
not have lasted in front
of TV spectators.
The written word
still has power
over the spoken.
But for how long
with You-Tube?
I wonder how the marquis
would penetrate
with his ideas today?

Royal Wedding

In the old Westminster Abbey
(from 1050 and finished 500 years later)
a glorious wedding took place
reminding the world's romantics
of another ill-fated couple
- the escapists felt redeemed.

(An aside, you wonder what
the groom's father felt, if anything).

The trees Eight 20-foot high trees,
six English Field Maple and two Hornbeam
adorned the vast space - ecologically sound.

The world stopped for a day
to dream away from wars, famines,
fights for freedom to hope
for better future to come
a young couple symbolizing
a union of well-suited individuals.

The fanfare, the hoopla
it was all for the world
to enjoy - what more could
we commoners want except
"to eat - ahem - the cake".

Poetry readings

I write poetry
I read poetry
a l o n e
I do not attend
poetry readings
a m i d s t
a crowd
simply because
I do not relate
to recitings.

I cannot hear
the words properly
unless read by
a well-modulated
actor male or female.
Therefore, today
I left a place
in which I should
have been - but
as I get older
and more rebellious
I do less shoulds.

This is the irony.

Choice of act

Sometimes you need
to know to just be
quietly at your named spot
and walk away when
non-acting is important.
At other times you need
to know to just be
vividly with flailing arms
and be right there when
that act is important.
The conundrum is for
anybody to select
that right choice
when your kids need what!
It can be so difficult!

The I-dears!

Interesting interludes
involve individuals
in intermittent incertitudes
of inquisitive - investigative
interchanges of informations,
interspersed with indulgences
of irony and imitations
only to be improved
by ingenious interjections!

Games

We played a game last night
an edition of Trivia whatever
it is remarkable how much
and how little we know
We think we remember
and then sometimes we do not
the trivia we fill our brains with
shall be gone when we go
so as a bleep on the firmament
were five people trying to recall
this and that - what does it matter?
Yes, it does, because we spent
an eve in good company.

Going back

Going back to old places
can be joyful or painful
this dualism is there.
Do you look to remember
good times or difficult eras
of your own personal sphere?
If you are a romantic
then you go back no matter what
if you are a realist
you probably go back because
you forgot the place
if you are a pessimist
you torture yourself a lot.
Going back is all in the view, right?

Springy haiku

Hello Spring - jumping
out vigorously at me
you will stay, won't you?

Unbiased Opinionator

I love words
urban dictionary's
supplies unlimited
But I regret
for that matter
that I am not
as young as ever
because of the
ever evolving
evolution of
the English language.
Yes, I know we
are losing spoken
brogues and glottogonic
roots every day
but we are gaining
millions of new terms
bigoted - mostly
from Tweets, the Net.
That is why I
I declare that
with the NYT
I am an unbiased
opinionator
where language
is concerned.
Play and praise
stay and decay.

Over and over and over again

A strange interlude
in an airport -
a young kid of barely 20
was describing how
in Pittsburgh of all places
she got picked up
by a photographer
jump starting her career.
She was in awe of
his positions - his house
his manners in which
she got accustomed.
From the gossip on the Net
it does now tell me
the more sordid details
of the affair.
She regrets it....
Alas, when the world is
gone - then humans will learn.

Mensendieck

A system for women
designed by a woman
a long while ago
an American
in Europe - where
she designed her
posture system -
my mother taught
me about this
I have had a course
in this eons ago
and yet - I think
I need it again.

To Bess Mensendieck
and To Pat for reminding me.

What Democracy?

200 years for a run
of an idea is a lifetime plus
in Greece it lasted
only about 20 years
then 2000 years later
the idea was revisited
and now ?

Cook's dilemma

Invitees - I duly reflect
How to cook the lamb - a roast?
The cook's dilemma is a fake
conundrum - a sad boast.
Should I it baste and bake
or cut it to pieces sizzling
for the life sacrificed
diced, sliced and spiced?
The quandary: a give and take:
all omnivores are Quislings!
Thank the beast - give it due respect.

(Poet not too happy about the
cooking - of this poem)

And so it goes!

The man fizzles out
thereby just providing
no sex to his spouse
thinking that his presence
is more than enough!

Lady of the house finds
a willing Peter Pan
who dips too readily
into other females too.

Fine - if the lady does not
fall for her youthful lover.

The fait accompli discovered
and the hubby angry and hurt.

The female - resentfully sad
misses her lover - and
fights for her right to anger
cause her needs like Nora's
were not met - and so it goes.

Ein dunkler April

Was ist mit meiner Seele?
Das Regen hat mir genommen
im Brust und wird mir kwetschen.
Leider ist es Fruhling
aber ein dunkler April.

Phallological Museum

A phallus can be great plaything
both for the owner and its borrower.
The prick is powerful and sweet,
but at times turns angry - agitated.
Then it taunts - it commands - rapes.
In Iceland - with whales and other
animals' penises - in formaldehyde
the museum includes a human penis!

Would the next treasure house be
a vulva vault to exhibit the deed
of cut out labia, clitoris, vagina
to the world - circumcision of women,
mutilation of the young females only
to be used for pleasure of the males?
Somehow this worries a waning Voelva!

Dedication

Tenor Juan Flores's feat
on this Saturday past
defined work dedication,
he aided with the birth
of his son and 35 minutes
after stood on the stage
for the world to enjoy
a funny operatic romp.
The only words are:
Bravo Divo Diego!

Rainbow room

Red - our love
deeply satisfying - gloriously humorous
Orange - our life
together in harmonious balance - sometimes
Yellow - our equinox
a daffodil in bloom every year
Green - our hope
for a full life - aging with dignity
Blue - our sea
of where we bubble up and down
Indigo - our satedness
fun fixing fabulous food
Violet - our differences
vive them and not others
Together a rainbow with room for growth.

A Conference

I attended a professional conference
and my impressions of it are raw
most presenters embraced their importance
but their topics were my draw.
One only read from his PowerPoint
the keynote was too early - too much
the only talk that stood out and was good
were two guys linking poverty - a touch -
of reality into my cocooned day.
A sad comment on issues of health
reforms and Congress inability to grasp
that poverty in-utero condemns cells
to limitations in body and soul forever
depriving them of growth and nurture -
so anyone with an understanding hearth
would get that paucity is brain torture.

Lunch haiku

Late lunch at the lake
a lull in cold weather
sunny warm mealtime.

Paris me manque

Il y avait longtemps
un age immense
perdu dans les nuages
ou je me promenais
chaque jour a Paris
mon voyage en bus
me montrait a vif
tous les monuments.
Ma vie diurnale
et les secondes noctunes
etait comme une peinture
impressioniste - surrealiste.
J'en reve encore
pas - de ma jeunesse perdue
mais de revisiter
la folie et la vivacite.

Comparisons?

New dishwasher and new refrigerator
not due to rebuilding the interior
but simply one had sprung a leak
one left powder - on the whole - antiques
two tools performed not to their best!
Not so with living people or pets.
Some of us even get better with age
like wine, whiskey in barrels or ale.
Compare a kitchen gizmo with a soul?
In a home - the cook has a big role,
so deprive the chef of his/her gadget
a storm in the hearth will you beget.
Therefore, peace in the home depends
upon sex, food, laughter - the end.

Thoughts upon getting a new refrigerator and dishwasher

A fool's fool

Today again is April 1st
and silly things appears
the family's dog morn trip
in fast and funny figures
described by the walker
look out the window -
nothing materializes
so ancient a tradition
often banned by the church.
Being sad and thrown down
you often need laughter
to bring foolish release
although satire and bitterness
bites terribly - cum bullying.
Joyful bantering without hurt
should be about on this day.
Alas, the weather has decided
this year to take a day off.
So the elephant in the yard
is nothing but gray.

Taxing haiku

IRS times now
monies ins, outs of coffers
mine, state - federal

Humbly - I react

Oh to the wild west wind
of Keats and the Romantics
of certain bends of language
I am not a pure statics
I vent when I can or need to
I scream when it's urgent
although I moderate my moods
and not being a drill sergeant
but when fancy takes over
and my inner urges cover
what I feel and should do
then I raise my voice too
indignantly I so proclaim
that the world is insane.

Snow y haiku?

Wintry snow signals
on a morning late in March
flurry fantasies?

wet dreams

a penis is power
a vulva is weak
a penis pumps
a vulva wants
a penis penetrates
a vulva welcomes
a penis plunders
a vulva wails
a penis proclaims
a vulva weighs
a penis pictures
a vulva wishes
a penis portrays
a vulva wraps
a penis propels
a vulva warms
a penis procreates
a vulva wrests
a penis is potent
a vulva is waiving

Blinders abound

Religious bigotry
and female hatred
was what power hungry
men of medieval mores
postulated and pontificated;
Their beliefs were the law.

Binding religion
together with mind control
and education restriction
was then and is now
for bigots and searchers
for supremacy the ultimate goal.

Devotee of freedom of
speech, beliefs, and right
to education turns away
from politics of men
who thinks power is a penis
and females are dangerous.

Give a female cow to a woman
and she will turn it into
business for herself
feeding her family
while her mate is fighting
for his self-esteem.



On reading about a woman in Mali
getting a cow from the co-op
and on the same day hearing
about bigotry and religious hatred
somewhere in Europe.

History as an arrow

Did the renaissance do anything?
Not if you really look at the politics
it did not get rid of the feudal system,
it was for the wealthy - the little people
were ignorant - kept dumb and down.
The church in Europe was still strong
yes, there were mumblings about
some other political system
way back when Greece was young
and Socrates were running around
but truly it did not get rid of
superstition, superimposing beliefs
but there was one area where
the renaissance blew everything away -
art and architecture.
Did the baroque do anything?
Galileo with his The earth moves anyway
Decartes saying, I think therefore I am
and Hobbes changed the political system
cause people are not nice, needing
a firm hand -in art, architecture
and music - it also excelled
with voluptuous odalisques and
funneled, crenelated pilasters.
Did the Romantic period change anything?
All the technological discoveries
that finally bloomed with blood
sweatshops and tears, but in the music
it excelled with Mozart and Beethoven.
So can we conclude that even though
on the surface - the waves seem small
they just keep coming - growing
and history wipes the world slate
clean of blood - mistakes - plunder
and humanity can change - mayhap.

War weary

Apparently apprehensive
and solemn in a Socratic spirit
Vigga the Voelva wanders
aimlessly anxious with her thoughts
to the brook near Yggdrasil
and the little twig which
is no longer so little
proudly sprouting its branches
over the musing markedly somber
searching wisdom of her own silence.

Unlike the Greek philosopher
who ran around among the people
of Athens and platonic poems
the wondering Voelva seeks to question
neither the young nor the old
she but strengthens her whys
in the wild woodlands
among wild beast and rooted trees.
She and her better half,
her wise and well-born sister Sophia,
are often telecommuting
in a siblingly sort - a trip
of tried old mellowly way
transporting her anxieties
to the high-born noblesse.

Again the world is in
testosterone turmoil
and the Voelva is weighing
why man cannot live
without killing maiming
and not subjugating
his fellow man - and woman.
Democracy or the sheen thereof
needs not demagogy nor death.
Alas, there seems to be
nothing that will stop
religious racism mixed with
mindsets of blinded beliefs.
As long as one sex grounds
the other into no value other
than for proverbial procreation
and, of course, wanton voluptuousness
there will be no - peace.

Sophia, high-born sister,
telesports her thorough thoughts
to the weatherbeaten Voelva
soberingly saying,
when the world stops admiring
the muscular, manly testes
and start regaining respect
for the feminine fertile
gynocentrism of yesteryear
then mayhap in balance
there would be less wars.

The meandering musing Voelva
thought for a moment
and added her own sense
of being buckled by the burdens
of the warring world
Humor, humility and human
understanding and tolerance
would not be so utterly
unacceptable in tandem
with the wildly thought
of giving up some of the macho
medieval warmongering ways
of the menfolks in the Middle East
and the male-dominated
war hungry profiteers
of Wall Street and the West.

The trees around Vigga the Voelva
and the vernal tide of the air
posed a lovely picture
of glad times to come
mother Earth was still fecund
and her tidings well-worn
respect me and yourself
and you will do fine
but the Ygdrasil was less spouting
this year and the fairies
fluttered around its roots
and was trying to tend to it
more than ever, it was
gasping for fresher air
and cleaner rainwater from the sky.
The Voelva was very worried.

Chance meeting

A man went to the store
and heard - Pavarotti
and his soul was sold to opera
of great passion and desire
his his lust of for life
became the music of composers
who understood - frail humanity.
A woman once had an affair
with a man whose sister
was a well-known singer
her ex was a glorious tenor
her son - tried to be that
but due to realization
did not become as great
and hence committed suicide
he could not live up
to his own expectations.
Two strangers met over
their love of opera
where it takes them beyond
loving the grand ethos
is just an everyday happening,
autumn - winter - spring
and even in summer
stranger meetings occur
every day - year round
and only in the poet's mind
it becomes something glorious.

Everyday living

Washing machine churning its load
on a sun-filled Saturday morning
husband laughing out loud -

I ask him why?
You!
Me?
Yes, you!

Getting up from the computer
I walk into the everything room

He:You take off everything at night
not bothering to take them apart.
So the clothes are lumped together.

Me: I get electric shocks if
I try to split them.
Easy to explain.

He is not as electrical -
after all he is a mechanical
engineer!

Sitting downstairs

Feet, bare feet - running -
walking on top of my head
listening quietly
just like when the little feet
were a lot younger
they ran at the time
they were lighter in movement
but they are still
very much alive!

The past - the present

The past from Cambridge
found on Facebook
I thought she died in Mexico
when they had the earthquake
but no - on the web she is alive
and looks happily married.
The question is now -
will she answer?
It can be fascinating
for old ones to dig up
the itinerant past
but then - again why not?
Reconnecting can be
an new exchange of ideas
that were started so many
years ago - 38 or so.
Stranger things have happened.

A Key

My love has my key
he is the why
of my well-being
he gives me all
and a key to
his mind -
twist and turns
of living
in togetherness
and apart
he may not always
understand me
but he gives me
space of trust
My love has my key

To Poul

Progress?

Is it not a wonderful world
full of gadgets and doodads?

Humbled by hurricanes
by earth scattering quakes
by idiocies of man - wars
fights for power and more.

Chastened, we have no control
over wind, sun and rain
explosions, man made or not
volcano eruptions or tsunamis.

Overcome,we have no chance
when we discuss love, hate,
beliefs or monetary systems
or to control nature's urges.

Is it not a wondrous world
full of frail and fickle humans?

Fraud

A small business owner
has experienced fraud.

An ugly term - a hateful one
twisting the budget
and fudging the checks.

The trail left is not easy
but it is better than
being fooled by somebody
who thinks him/herself superior.

The proprietor discovered
it almost by accident;
not only did the falsifier
have the audacity to be late
but say "I thought you didn't notice".

Instantaneously after
laying off the person
the boss realized that
money was flowing in
and s/he could breathe again
no longer a reason to pinch.

Of course, now it is a worry
that somebody is trying to
duck and cover up whatever
so his/her computer is attacked
and the next thing expected
is going to be physical of sorts
but no worries - the top dog is ready.

Oh say can you see*

A wintry March morn
with wind - cold air
a daughter and friend and mom
went to an audition
somewhere in the area
- Oh say can you see??
Far beyond any realization
that this was for exposure
no pay just for the sheer
enjoyment and seriously
trying to capture
- Oh say can you see??
What? Fame and fortune
to get somebody to look
at what you could perform
at a moment in time
all wannabees - some not so
Oh say can you see?
At least 85 signed up
so for 85 times the judges
heard over and over
the anthem of the US
Oh say can you see.
I am glad I only heard
it 49 times - and that
I am not a judge!
And this venue does it every
year and every season
people flock to the opportunity!
Oh say can you see!!!


"With the apology to the National Anthem
- 49 times and counting! I admire
the judges!"

On a wet afternoon...

Coldness of climate
inside the inner
of my itinerant cloud.
Winter-weary will
neither cling to the ice
nor chill to the drops
filling up the dormant
earth expecting
sprightly spring soon.
Equal to the ode
from a well-known poet
this composer yearns
for warmth, glorious
glamorous deep shine
of earthly divine.

An Ouch poem

Ouch said the back
I am hurting
ouch said the stomach
I am burping
ouch said the foot
I am running
ouch said the finger
I am burning
ouch said the ear
I am spurning
ouch said the brain
I am learning!

Un Canadien

Des photographies
montrent la philosophie
Chandlerienne.

L'une:
Deux marionettes
un homme clown blanc
et une vielle femme
le beau et la laide
la vie et la mort
la seule chose
qui en manquait etait
le bon vin francais et
ses avertures sentimentales.

L'autre:
Il inspirait ses amis
de l'aider et l'aimer.
Choisissant la vie unique,
la vie en soltitude -
partout il trouvait
quand meme -
des marques de sympatie en
laissant rouler le bon temps
passionne par le Midi.

La finale:
Mon daguerreotype vivant
dans mon cerveau sera toujours
le Canadien de Cazouls
avec son chapeau et ses gauloises
d'autrefois en buvant le pastis.

En fermant l'ensemble des feuilles
des memoires colores de chancun/
chacune qui a connu ce bon vivant
nous te saluons - "Chandler Killer".

Past - hm?

Past popping up
in my emails- on my shores -
why I do not know
my parents - siblings -
great-grands of whom
I know nothing
and I know I should
feign a true interest
they are part of
one's genetic make-up
and they are in my
children's genes
yet - there is nothing
I can physically do
to short circuit that
so - why bother
except for historical
purposes and ...yet
if I do not know my past
will my children be
obliged to remake
their granny's mishaps
or has the world changed
so - that is my today's
question -
and the answer of course
is that I am crazy
because the more I know
'bout my past -
the more ...... hm!