Sharing Foxholes

We of the World share tantamount foxholes,
Ducking terror’s blitz of malignant hate.
Silence malediction from nescient gholes.

Colors of mankind coalesce proud souls,
Veracity, democracy connate.
We of the World share tantamount foxholes.

Equable climates gyre to mob control
Contracted thugs traduce the free speech state.
Silence malediction from nescient gholes.

Dire issues we face! Take the ozone holes!
Toil as One to halt thawed ice mass spates.
We of the World share tantamount foxholes.

Trash and plastics gorge the world’s toilet bowl.
Raping the earth’s rain forests just must abate!
Silence malediction from nescient gholes.

In so many languages alarms toll.
Pinpoint Earth’s dilemmas to ruminate.
For We of the World share tantamount foxholes
Silence malediction from nescient gholes.

INSPIRATION:
I have enjoyed many forms of creativity through the years, painting with pastels, and silk ink paintings, making jewelry by the lost wax method and precious metal clay, pottery, and crocheting. But when grandchildren began to arrive, I created The WombBooks, in audio format for babies in the womb, video format for infants to age 4, and hardcover books. I spend hours a day in my studio with my Woombees, the little characters I created for the books. I wrote the stories in poetic form with rhyme, rhythm, and music enlightening babies womb experience. How blessed am I!

An Old Adage

Speak only in kindness. Soft overtones.
My Mother’s wisdom, and adage of old.
Painful words uttered commit as on stone.

A ward smile adduces a comfort zone,
Trust and assurance the soul consoled.
Speak only in kindness. Soft overtones.

Dispassionate phrases statesmen hone.
Laws, literature, and history re-scrolled.
Painful words uttered commit as on stone.

Family, lovers, kindness must be resown.
Mother’s adage, a path for life so bold.
Speak only in kindness. Soft overtones.

Sincerely in kindness will adorn a headstone,
But lies and false witness conjure bones cold.
Painful words uttered commit as on stone.

Passing faces on the sidewalk unknown,
The charity of a smile releases joys tenfold.
Yes, an adage of enlightenment retold.
Painful words uttered commit as on stone.

The Source of Inspiration:

My Mother raised my brother and me to memorize old adages as building blocks of life. The most important one to me is:
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
I can tell you that this wonderful old adage has kept me out of a lot of trouble. Live by these words of wisdom for a happy life!

Smile

As you pass the mirror, who do you see?
A face with a message of hope for all?
A warm smile invites a seeker’s journey.

Mirrors reflect emotions, rage to zeal.
But soft tones temper cynicism, gall.
As you pass the mirror, who do you see?

Fish fed the hungry on the mountain with glee.
Wonders of kindness adorn garden walls.
A warm smile invites a seeker’s journey.

The hunger line at the door for food free
Sincere smiles gift boxes large and small.
As you pass the mirror, who do you see?

Unhoused, exiled. The realm of refugees.
They seek asylum over rampant walls.
A warm smile invites a seeker’s journey.

A smile. gentle prose, the Spirit’s mercy.
The charity of a smile, joy enthralls.
Yes, as you pass the mirror, who do you see?
A warm smile invited a seeker’s journey.

The source of inspiration:
I took the face of a somber young man in my hands and asked him to smile for me. He then did just as I asked. And before me was a handsome, warm smile. I thanked him for making my day with his smile. I have since seen him greeting more people with that smile. People need more smiles, daily, warm, earnest smiles. Make a commitment to offer the world a smile to make their day.

Martial Five

Martial Five alive in a racial world
Yearns and dreams, preparing schemes, poems and proses
Night eyes judge fates on Memphis streets awhirl

Mothers pray their children traverse YoWorld
Screen gaming sustains sure virtual blows
Martial Five alive in a racial world

Avoid streets’ evils with secure Woozworld
Juveys shroud fear in the darkest shadows
Night eyes judge fates on Memphis streets awhirl

Martial Five, trained corps, face Memphis’ subworld
Life and death’s crux lapsed with one last club throw
Martial Five alive in a racial world

Excessive blows, viewed around the cyworld
Memphis streets flood as tears of grief flow
Night eyes judge fates on Memphis streets awhirl

One human soul’s DOB, and lifeworld
The afterglow. Memoirs bluntly enclose
Yet, Martial Five alive in a racial world
Night eyes judge fates on Memphis streets awhirl.






			

TRUTH’S SPINNING

Truth’s spinning in an obdurate firestorm.
Words morph day by day, hour by hour.
The Patrons must anneal Truth’s platform.

Unclean lips besmirch good names and life's norm
Rabble elicits dissonance, brash clangour
Truth's spinning in an obdurate firestorm.

Nations of peoples at borders aswarm
No possessions, domicile, or dower
The Patrons must anneal Truth's platform.

Capitol walls glazed from bloody blamestorms
Blind Reps walk the halls as staunch avowers
Truth's spinning in an obdurate firestorm.

Truth's many masks, each a pitch to perform.
The Cast's carriage stages adverse power.
The Patrons must anneal Truth's platform.

Factualism twists in a wordstorm.
Balderdash! The piffle of the hour!
Still......Truth's spinning in an obdurate firestorm.
The Patrons must anneal Truth's platform.





Two Four-Letter Verbs

Two four-letter verbs have the world at war,
The polarization of love and hate.
All humanity must demand rapport.

Hate. A foul emotion innate in evil’s corps,
Rapacious mortals await fiery fates.
Two four-letter verbs have the world at war.

Love. Fealty. Ardency. Cherished ardor.
Such emotions to heal……the earth awaits.
All humanity must demand rapport.

Hate guides the mind to evil’s wretched core.
The color of hate is black……light abates.
Two four-letter verbs have the world at war.

The color of love……the rainbow’s decor.
Sunlight, the earth’s disinfectant state.
All humanity must demand rapport.

Truth was esteemed in bygone days of yore.
Fiend despotics our laws drub and ablate.
Yes, two four-letter verbs have a world at war.
All humanity must demand rapport.

THE ALARM CLOCK

The scream of the banshee peals through the dark,
Alerting senses, startling quiet moments
Before the dawn. Dreams fractured, imbedded
In cerebral caverns, with retrieval
Impossible on command. Aggressive
Urges surge through neurons, frazzled and dazed.

Eliminate the banshee. Screaming devil!
The iron fist tightens. An irruptive blow
Inflicts sincere retribution for deeds
Perpetually reduplicative.
Minutes later, more reminders of life
Beckon. Consciousness reclaimed from the rim.

I, POSSESSED

My favorite possession possesses me.
With a fervent obsession she holds the key
To my flurried schedule. It’s at her command!
She cares not what the rest of the world demands.
The seconds of her day are rhythmic and slow
Passed with the breeze that gently cools and bestows
An aura of peace to her obscure presence.
Thus for my ardent service and reverence
I am granted amusement and grand antics,
And faint purrs, soft calming and therapeutic.

Inspiration

I was moved by my cat, Gracie Lou, to write this poem.
She has been long gone now, but my world has been
possessed by Callie, a grand feline lady who rules what
we thought was our domain. She has trained us well.

CLASS OF ’66 REUNION

Time marches on, an adage oft spoken.
More like a sun’s ray at the speed of light.
Yet our classmate bonds can ne’re be broken.

“Graduate! Actuate!” a keen slogan!
Puerile sight may cloud the road to the right.
Time marches on, an adage oft spoken.

For most a pledge and a golden token
Tarnished by Life thus cancelling the rite
Yet our classmate bonds can ne’re be broken.

Born, the innocents in cribs of oaken
Parenting with no manual! Bless the wight!
Time marches on, an adage oft spoken.

Careers and callings……corporate brogans,
Downsizing, outsourcing, a damning blight.
Yet our classmate bonds can ne’re be broken.

Swiss watch for retirement, golden token
This juncture of talents, freedom take flight
For, Time marches on, an adage oft spoken,
Yet, our classmate bonds can ne’re be broken.

INSPIRATION
I ran across this poem I wrote for my last class reunion, but I
don’t recall reading it at the reunion. But it truly says a lot for
our class. Even with many years behind us, there’s still love,
devotion and loyalty to each other after all this time.
How lucky we were back in ’66!

LOVE SONG

The sunshine is back in my soul!
For I have heard your voice
The depth……the resonance,
Rivals the songs of life and nature.

I feed on your tales.
My mind’s eyes reeling
With adventurous scenes…….
Real……..but for me only dreams.

I hear the rolling summer thunder.
The threat of storms…..the promise of rain
Rain that mimics my heart strings
As…………possibly, a cello moans.

I curl up like a kitten in your strong loving arms.
The quiet broken only by the thunder.
Your breath on my neck, assurances of hope……
Your lips on my lips, a promise of love.