At Last, Revenge!

So long ago, in 1978, I was 23 and remember still

The way the Missouri Tigers, those ruin-ers

Of our best happiness, from beating the Sooners,

Sent us into a bleak dark funk

And Cups of pain and bile were drunk

As we were forced into an evil replay

Against Oklahoma land-thieves

Against our will,

On a new year's day...

Well, those Black & Gold eaters of roadkill,

Hung-over from their big win

Over the dirt-burglars in Columbia,

Came to Lincoln prideful, in sin,

And got their butts kicked instead

By the good guys in red,

Who got the final laugh today

Mandarin Cocktail Lounge

Walk into the bar, and there they wait

For me, and I have this

Queasy feeling, caused by a realization

Perhaps a beat too late

When I see the beer

On the table, surrounded by "old boys"

Who make money from information

But I put aside the fear

And think "Great"...

"I'll just play this by ear"

Which I do, and leave 45 minutes later

With a lager buzz and

Emotional dehydration.

Fall Takes A Sudden Fall

From somewhere north

Siberia-way,

The winter wind, cold and mean,

Like a frigid leaf-blower,

Sweeps the park lanes clean...

And the benches

Where lovers sat together,

Are emptied by

The ice-cruel weather

Nonchalance (Another Word For...)

I've looked it up,

But keep forgetting what it meant,

That wondrous word:

Insouciant.

One of those that's best

Left for the SAT test.

Volunteers

I try to make plans --- I really do,

Eat breakfast, get ready,

Embark on actions, follow-through,

Pursue what I yearn,

Achieve results, slow and steady,

And put in the bank,

What small money I earn…

But there’s times when I hit

A wall, and stop,

Hard to describe, it

Is like strength and energy

Weaken and drop,

Into lethargy

So numbing, that

While perfectly able,

I can’t even clean-up my table…

Maybe it’s depression

From knowing,

That my best-laid plans can fail,

A nagging suspicion,

The seeds I planted aren’t growing….

But wait!

What’s with those sunflowers?

Golden, glorious,

Growing along the fence,

Tall and straight…

Volunteers, not planted intentionally,

Random gifts from life’s powers,

Which uplift, steadily,

That hopeful, fragile part of me,

Gently and happily,

Away from the dull-dark hours.

From "The Economist", 20 March 2010

"Modern poetry seems all too often to be associated with coy, small-minded ironists; teasing, finicky word players who often write in disappointingly short lines and seem to lack the ambition, the emotional force, the rhetorical reach, and even the range of subject matter of great poets of the past. Where to go these days to find the real thing?"

Yes, indeed...

The Advantage Of Being Covert

Bedbugs are making a comeback.

From their box-spring bases,

They rise and attack,

Biting the sleepers in various places...

Bedbugs bloodthirsty, on-track

To becoming famous,

After being considered dead,

And subjugated,

They will become targets, instead,

Relegated

To being chemically eliminated.

But cockroaches have always been here,

Hiding under someplace near,

Waiting for the lights to go out,

Then conduct their forage roundabout,

Hurrying, scurrying, they don't fight,

They don't bite,

And are sure to outlast,

The giants above, as days turn to night.

Relevant link: http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/opinion/columnists/bed-bugs-invade-through-chinks-in-our-armour-105093774.html

Commuter Noodles

At a rush-hour train-stop,

Bending over a bowl of udon

In the stand-up noddle shop,

With 20-odd men in suits,

Slurping in unison.

- - - - - - - - - -

Udon: http://japanesefood.about.com/od/udon/a/aboutudon.htm

Similarity

The cold front passes through

Sun,wind, rain -- suddenly changing,

Like her moods.

Solving World Hunger

Politicians and diplomats

Exchanging words over tea,

Trying to divert the flow

Of hate into lethal reality...

Fear of those we do not know,

Like a self-fulfilling prophecy,

Festers and spreads, a noxious cloud,

Smothering tolerance -- An atmosphere

Where compromise is not allowed.

Politicians and diplomats

Wringing their hands in worry,

As the world they think they lead,

Heads to chaos in a hurry.

Pavement Encounter

After the rains

Jogging,

Hoping for cleaner veins,

I sudden-stop -- hard heart-beat!

There's a snake at my feet!

Instinctively I freeze,

Surprised...

Then I start running, thinking,

As the snake slithers in retreat,

It's not always so harmless,

When reptiles and mammals meet.

Handheld Forest Fossil

Freshly sharpened

I can smell the tree

In the pencil I hold...

I wonder

What hillside or glade

Welcomed its roots,

Until it was cut,

Felled before it got old,

Cancelling its shade...

It offered

No screams or fighting,

Thereafter sawed, planed, and made

Into a Mitsubishi 9800 * B *,

Tool for General Writing.

Tuesday After A Three-Day Weekend

Some mornings I get up roaring,

Feet already running as they hit the floor;

Other ones, I keep on snoring,

Until the monster walks through the door.

It always strikes me as strange,

How energy levels wag and change,

In the wake-up moments after daylight breaks,

Before I have my breakfast flakes.

In Memorium: Happy Mondays

In your youth,

Did you Rave?

Disco-trance,

Feeding the crave...

Marching fearless

To the pounding late-80's beat,

Fun-frantic, peerless,

Chemicals, body-heat,

In the smoky haze

Of darkness and flashing lights,

Music-bending nights & days,

Stinky fingers, drunken fights,

Getting-off 1,000 ways...

Did you Rave while young?

Or will it be the

Only song you've sung?

Age is no excuse

Not to cut-loose,

DIVE into the

Techno-funky tunes!

Why not?

All that's ahead are ruins.

Seasonal Sales Decoration

The giant Jack-O-Lantern, suspended

Above their heads --- Inflated

To a super-spherical size,

Supernatural and splendid...

Looming Orange, evil-black eyes,

Which see the ghosts and curses rise...

Its laughing mouth serrated

Into a jagged smile,

Looking over shoppers flowing

Below, full of cash, not knowing

Why the pumpkin spirit floats, while

Mobbing towards a harvest sale,

Jack-O-Lantern beckons, to no avail.

Ode To Bill Gates

How much of my life

Will pass,

Looking at the

Microsoft hourglass...

The 3 Cool Heads

Look up! Look up! What do we see?

Millions of stars in the nighttime sky

And a notion of cosmic reality

Peering through the space-junk orbiting by

Inspecting our lives and wondering why

Humanity is messing-up history

Crapping in Eden, or so it seems

To the 3 Cool heads, who, in their dreams

Pursue metaphysical mystery.

Look up! Look up! Can't you hear the voice?

Proclaiming, from the gods of our choice,

To follow their edicts and copy their ways

Give homage and requisite outlays,

In preparation for the end of days...

The 3 Cool Heads behold and appraise

The natural state of chaos and chance

The dissonant, dispassionate galactic dance

Which rules, un-believed, both men and ants

Who strive to build order on happenstance.

Look up! Look up!

And what do you see?

Nothing, my friend,

But you and me.

Memory Dregs

The bar empties into midnight,

An empty, quiet street...

A drunk screams at the silence

Washing the bed sheet,

A faded wine stain spurs

A memory of forgotten love.

A gut-deep bonzo-belch,

Spreads like a chemical bomb

Last night's jalapeno special.

Paper Has Not Died

They tell me to download,

Be connected and wired...

But I'll stick to old books,

No batteries required.

Seen On A bathroom Wall

Like toast that got burnt,

Our "would" was changed to "weren't",

A tough lesson I have learnt.

Earthly Habits

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of options,

Are always there for the choosing,

But I always cut-down their number,

To a manageable minimum, using

Those left, in a way less confusing:

Freedom channeled into habit,

Chaos reduced to a comfort zone,

Providing the feeling of keeping, not losing,

Shielding the fact I am all alone.