Sammi’s Weekender #271 (sibilance)

Click the graphic for more 28-word takes on the prompt word at Sammi’s blog.

 


The young, attractive, angry suicide survivor glanced at her phone before reciting

an angry poem in contralto voice which obscured nervousness,

each sibilant rapidly voiced in pitiful pain.


As you look into their eyes, look both ways when they tell their story.
Mind the gaps for hidden meanings in of the human condition.

Sammi’s Weekender #270 (jamboree)

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Tanta Belleza

En la ciudad Mexicana de San Antonio, Texas,
Fiesta: eleven April days and nights of wild jamboree
fiestas where diversity is celebrated with parades galore,
like the Battle of the Flowers with royalty;
titled Queen of the Alamo, the Charro Queen,
King Antonio, or King El Rey Feo in his royal ugliness of medieval rivalry,
there’s a Queen of Soul, and La Reina de la Feria de las Flores,
everywhere you’ll find dancing and music, muchos happy people,
if large crowds are your taza de tequila.


Look at crowds both ways for the fun within the melee.
Mind the gaps for the light-fingered chaps.

A fun time. Take the bus. It is always packed. Click the pic if you want to know more.

Monday’s Rune: Code Red?


Patience Grasshopper

I don’t give a damn what
you think about what
I think I thought
that am entitled to,
or what is my business.
Motive matters. How are ya
means I fucking care
about you and your problems,
no matter how ya got ‘em.

When you shut me out,
when you will not talk,
when anyone close
informs me just
exactly what the fuck
is and is not my business,

Blood boils, tongues twist,
ears backen, and eyes redden.
Sir, the witness has rights!

Code fucking red. RED!
Read it right. No matter
WHAT! I’m on your side.
Hell, high water, thunder,
fucking flashes of lightning
or the end of my damn sidewalk.


Look both ways and see it as you must,
but I’ve been minding the gaps in this wall for more than 50 years.

 

I suppose it depends upon what it is applied to and how.

 

Monday’s Rune: This Bad


Hopeless is bad enough,
often said with sarcastic humor.
But helpless is feeling
a deeper truth.

We believe we can,
and maybe
for a time,
we can, and
we do. But we are
being watched.

An inevitable
universal reality
brings truth to
the rarity of existence.

Entropic inevitability,
be it a mayfly, a giant star;
you, or me, degradation
into disorganized chaos
and randomness rules.

As everything changes,
nothing ever changes.


Look both ways into the abyss of eternity.
It is the way, the only way.
Mind the gaps and appreciate the flashes of life.

Monday’s Rune: Hank’s Wine Whine


Bukowski had six cats,
a horrific history,
(eventually) a (2nd) wife, a daughter,
and hated his father,
maybe mother too.
he smoked cigarettes
and drank wine
while writing poems
until the wee hours
while
listening
to classical music.

He drove an old VW bug
and was attractively
unattractive.

Playing the horses
was more than
a gambling vice,
it was an avocation.

You say so what?
I say, you don’t know?


Look both ways when you need a poem to post on a Monday.
Mind the gaps cuz yer on yer own dude.

Henry Charles Bukowski: a “laureate of American lowlife.” Time (magazine).

Monday’s Rune: Independence Day


On This July Day

Born a year after
the last big war,
for decades,
I said the pledge
with hand over heart and sang
patriotic songs.

I took cover under my desk,
was a Boy Scout of America
who could properly fold the flag
and post the colors at twelve.
I prayed every day. I trusted God.

I played at war and we
always won. We were
always right, better,
and stronger. Powerful,
but merciful.

I enlisted before
graduating from high school,
I saluted. I knew, followed,
and respected flag etiquette —
still do. I swore
to protect our Constitution.

I spent two careers in the service of
(willing to, but not wanting to,
die for) my country—my people.
I thought I taught my children well.

Now,
examining my conscience
I find I am a man of a different mind,
No longer as certain of our goodness,
of our unitedness, of our honest
democracy. I feel fooled and
deceived. I feel hated by my own.

It’s not the date, it is the old spirit
where I question my allegiance,
to what or whom?

It is still in me. I still care.
But nothing is the same.
Confidence is dead. For our
freedoms, I worry with dread.

I feel conflicted. Lost.
Our enemies are close.
How patriotic am I?
I should be. I want to be.

In truth, I feel this way
not because I no longer love
my country,
but because I still do.

Happy 4th, anyway.
Be careful out there.


Look both way as we try to understand.
But deeply mind the gaps.
Even the Nazis thought they were right.

According to THIS Gallup poll, it’s a thing.

 

Sammi’s Weekender #264 (Picturesque)

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Damn Reality

Here I go again reading
Bukowski’s clear vision voice
poems lacking picturesque pastoral principles,
with plainly different aesthetic dispositions
of attitude nobody loves.

We know that deep inside,
his way is part of us;
part of him, hides in us.
How many ways
can we paint the same picture,
or tell the same story.


Look both ways reading anyone’s poems.
Mind the gaps hiding deep within when writing your own.

Monday’s Rune: A Metamorphosis


When does it happen, if it happens at all?
The innocent child becomes a troubled teen,
Then a vicious young man with an M-sixteen,
Or a rivetted young woman focused on his fall.

Is this the formula of a coming dystopia?
Is the excitement of the fight so much greater
Than desire for tranquility and gods’ opium?
Is power over people the dark masturbator?

Some change. Many don’t. Over time
We all morph and grow to some degree
For better or worse, but will I ever be free?
Human life’s permanent paradox of paradigm.


Look both ways with conscious contemplation of then and now.
Mind the gaps for lessons of fortitude,
not the comfort of fear.
You can only die once, Bukowski notwithstanding.

Sammie’s Weekender #263 (vernacular)

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Dead and Gone

When they ask me, where do I say I’m from?
Why ask? What difference does it make?

Do I say from a blended Irish Catholic coal miner family
of the northeastern Pennsylvania Wyoming Valley?
From a time and place, now too far away?

A way to which I cannot return. My blood no longer mixes.

A place foreign to the vernacular of history,
now threatened by polite inclusiveness.

Now none of me lives there.
Only cold rainy nights and forgotten headstones
on lost graves of people I never knew remain.


Look both ways for ancestral truth, but the past is gone.
Mind the gaps for reality’s dark shadows before landing right here, right now, in this world.

Sammi’s Weekender #257 (luminous)

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Ominous luminosity

Nearby outside, a dark
electricity filled night
jarred us with
thunderous raging lightning.

Saint Elmo’s fire
danced and filled our cockpit
with ominous luminosity
from Palpatine,
to our fearless distress.


Look both ways for distress travels any direction.
Mind the gaps as you let the force be with you.

Note: Palpatine (Darth Sidious) was the name of the Emperor in the Star Wars movies.