Thursday, November 18, 2010

Huuklyeand Cinquor on the Real Meaning of Realpolitik

You clogged up assholes—

You sit here saying how shitty everything is
When the real shit has yet to hit the fan.


Moderator’s comments: Merde alors!


Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Commemorative

Racked by pain, still
The innocent wheel-
Chairs swear on

A campaign

Against a mounting
Stack of dog-eared bibles,
Everyone gets the picture—

Nothing's framed.

NB: Lest we forget, today marks the 37th anniversary of the beginning of the fall of the infamous junta that ruled Greece from 1967 to 1974. 




Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Before the Ruby-throated Hummingbird Stood Still


When not composing on the computer (and before that on a Remington Quiet- Riter exactly like this
one which my parents bought me as a junior high graduation gift), I jot down bits and pieces of rantings and ravings on a 7 1/8 x 5 1/4 inch account book--the perfect size for my miniscule scribblings. 


Number one starts on January 11, 1975 in Seattle and finishes (with stopovers in London and Paris) in Greece in July 1976; the one I'm currently scribbling in is number twelve. That's not much of an output but what can you expect from a humming bird.

 

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Full Circle


Fall’s half-moon
Waxing through

Judas tree leaves,
Jasmine flowers all

Ready on ground.


Saturday, November 13, 2010

Poem


Like that ruby-throated humming
Bird that moves by

Making us stand still.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Abandoning One's Craft in the Middle of the Sea of Doldrums

When that wan

But overblown lubberly poet told me
He was ready to set forth boldly

Out of the calms of obscurity
And take the world by storm,

I told him to batten the hatches,
Remain at his station and please

Wait for the lull to blow over.

Moderator’s comments: Aye-aye, O Captain! My Captain!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Sweet 'n' Sour

I remember

Mom had a habit
Of enticing her
Granddaughter into the store-
Room where she’d ply

The kid with all kinds of sweet
Whatnots till she was caught
Red-handed by a red-
Faced son who thought

She was trying
To pull a fast one
On the sourpuss dad
Who had all but forgotten

He once had parents
As sweet as she was.

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