Greta Thunberg at Davos
Pharisees, temples
the young lecturing the old
wilderness, a voice.
Taking part in open link weekend over at earthweal.
Greta Thunberg at Davos (haiku)
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Author Archives: sdtp33
Down and Out in Idabel (redux)
Down and Out in Idabel
How Myron found himself in the parking lot
of the Holiday Inn in Idabel, Oklahoma
looking out at the road
on a Saturday morning in April
– after a breakfast of brittle bacon,
sausages slick with grease,
dry fluorescent scrambled eggs –
is not important.
The road pauses, a skittish dog roams.
Myron’s eyes are drawn to a dead armadillo
upside down on the hard shoulder
an empty beer can in its claws:
Old Milwaukee, prehistoric drunk,
someone’s joke.
A pick up truck passes
a pick up truck passes
a pick up truck passes
over the fence a cow chews grass
and makes a meal of it.
Dogwoods bloom.
The cow moos like a reluctant foghorn.
Myron’s mood turns
he thinks about the cow,
Manifest Destiny,
the plight of the bison
our lust for red meat
while greenhouse gas
shimmies upwards
ice caps melt
glaciers retreat
and looking down
the road to Shreveport
buoyed by the prospect
of seeing Idabel
in his rear-view mirror
he quietly resolves
to recover what he was
before sadness lodged
like a wet sack
in the back
of his head.
This poem originally appeared in issue 38 of The SHOp poetry magazine (print) which was a fine magazine, unfortunately they closed up shop a few years ago.
Taking part in earthweal open link weekend, head over there and read Brendan’s very eloquent and comprehensive post on climate change.
This is my third in a series of climate change related posts, it wasn’t planned that way, but I guess that’s the way the wind is blowing this week!
Water (off a duck’s back)
Water (off a duck’s back)
What’s that?…….no, no, it’s all rubbish,
climate change is a Deep State hoax.
By the way, forgot to mention
I have some ocean front for sale in Florida,
are you interested?
I hear you’re a good swimmer.
Ha, that’s just a joke,
God controls the climate
the rivers, lakes and seas.
Look what he did for Moses.
Our local preacher has a direct line,
just send a donation
before he gets arrested.
Joking again! Those rumours
are just not true.
Besides, our supreme leader, Donald, says
we are going to have a great climate
the best climate ever.
Do you know any Dutch people?
They’re good at handling all this water stuff.
Another thing, does anyone else
really miss the dinosaurs?
I had this rubber brontosaurus
when I was kid, I kind of liked it,
a velociraptor too…where was I?
Yes, this oceanfront property in Florida
it comes with a row boat.
The word of the week over at earthweal is water. Got the idea for this poem while reading Sarahsouthwest’s poem “Water Again”.
Also participating in open link night over at dverse.
Woke (a slimverse)
Woke
He’d not yet
gone to sleep,
he was that
far from woke.
Watching CNN (a sort of rant)
Anderson, Chris and Don and their assembled pundits are discussing the assassination of General Soleimani, the Iranian general. They all agree that he was a “bad actor”, a “bad guy”. They don’t say “bad hombre”,but it’s knocking at the door. This appears to be sufficient to warrant execution, it’s the timing and ongoing strategy they are concerned about.
Why I ask myself are they talking like characters in a 1950’s western?
Why are they talking like school kids?
Bad guys, good guys – “goodies and baddies”.
Back in the Classroom:
Teacher, by the end of the major combat phase of the Iraq war, 7,419 Iraqi civilians had been killed, primarily by U.S. air-and-ground forces, is George Bush Junior a bad guy, a bad actor, a bad hombre?
No, child, every American president is good.
Teacher, were those innocent civilians “collateral damage” or “victims of terror”?
That is a complex and morally confusing question, child. Here in America we do not like confusion.
Teacher, why do the American media continue to refer to the Canadians killed in the Ukraine Airlines crash as Iranians.
It’s less confusing that way, see above.
Teacher, is President Trump a bad guy, a bad actor, a bad hombre?
No, child, President Trump is a liar, a racist, possibly a crook and possibly a sexual predator but he is not a bad guy, a bad actor, a bad hombre.
Teacher, why are Anderson, Chris and Don so angry with him? Why the sanctimonious, po-faced editorials?
Because he is un-statesmanlike and because they have become lazy and are content to trot out the same tired outrage every day of the week. Their ambition is limited, they are happy just to be “not Hannity”.
But teacher, they seem like nice guys.
Your point is?
Patina (Ring Those Bells)
Patina
the patina on the bell’s surface
was anathema to Brother Jacques
Sonnez les matines?
Ring your own damn bell!
Oganesson (for dVerse)
Sarah, over at dVerse , is asking us to brave the elements and visit the Periodic Table. This is a slightly revised version of a previous post.
Oganesson
the heaviest of elements
always obsessin’
about its atomic weight,
the size of its orbitals.
Four Expressions Using The Word “Hell” (poem)
Four Expressions Using The Word “Hell”
that’s one hell of an expression
it’s all going to hell in a hand basket
they were scattered all over hell’s half acre
hell hath no fury like a president impeached.
The Land Called Where You Are Not (poem)
The Land Called Where You Are Not
that place you will never go
it can be one hundred miles away
it can be a stone’s throw
but there is one thing that is sure
there is one thing that you know
in the land called Where You Are Not
you will always be a no show.
(I located my inner Seuss over Christmas)
Taking part in Open Link over at dVerse
When the Twittering Stops (a slimverse)
When the Twittering Stops
it’s all fun
and games ’til
the body
bags come home.
Top Posts 2019 #3:The Wrong Way Home (a ghazal)
I picked this one because it was an attempt at writing to a form that was somewhat successful.
The Wrong Way Home
happy hours and peeler bars
he’s taking the wrong way home
a friendly toke, a line of coke
he’s taking the wrong way home
the night is young, pass that bong
he’s taking the wrong way home
a McFlurry, an Indian curry
he’s taking the wrong way home
a pounding head, a stranger’s bed
he’s taking the wrong way home
early dawn, suitcase on the lawn
he’s found his way home.
Top Posts 2019 #2: The Beautiful Game (The Lads’ Poetry Project 2 )
I’m including this one mainly because the subject matter of the poem – sport and the level of discourse associated with it – is somewhat neglected in the world of poetry. When you read the poem you may conclude that that is actually a good thing.
The Beautiful Game
Me and the lads are warming up
for our Sunday morning kickabout,
the weather’s not so good:
a black cloud loiters over head
spitting occasionally;
there’s a chill in the air.
Not that we care.
We are here for that moment of magic:
those three short passes
that raise life above the ordinary.
It’s all going well.
We’re stretching, squatting
sprinting, jogging, popping
Esther and Abi*
when up steps Paul
all sanctimonious-like
and starts to rattle on
about how this is a family park
and we should watch our language
and surely we can play a game of football
without accusing each other of onanism.
The lads are confused, gobsmacked even.
My face adopts an expression
which would later be described as quizzical
Onanism, I inquire,
what is that wanker talking about?
*Esther and Abi (Ofarim): rhyming slang for ibuprofen, a popular anti-inflammatory. Esther and Abi Ofarim, an Israeli singing duo, had a hit with “Cinderella Rockefella” in 1968.
Top Posts 2019 #1: Todd and the Time Machine
This is one of my most viewed posts in 2019, I’ll be posting one each day up to New Year’s Day. I’m picking posts from earlier in the year to keep things fresh!
Todd and the Time Machine
I
Todd’s time machine
has three settings:
time was
time is
time will be.
II
Sometimes
the time travel sickness
hits him
like a five alarm flu.
III
Returning through the time hail,
through the accelerating centuries
he hears his wife yell
from the ever present
from the basement stairs:
I’m turning off that bloody time machine
your dinner’s getting cold!
That Smell from the Fridge (tanka)
That Smell from the Fridge
that smell from the fridge
yes, it was the Camembert
noisome, and then some
wet dog, feet sweat, camel’s breath
a toilet door opening.
Reggae Justice (haiku) redux
Reggae Justice
the sheriff is dead
failure to shoot deputies
is not a defence.
Christmas Shopping (poem)
Christmas Shopping
lost in Costco
abandoned in The Gap
feeling stale in Joe Fresh
seems like everything here
is made in Bangladesh
‘tis the season, I guess
deck the halls with human folly…..
Post Grammatic Stress (poem)
Post Grammatic Stress
like a lot of nouns
he had spent a bit of time
in declension centres
discussing cases
with case workers
it wasn’t that bad
he just wishes
they weren’t all
so accusative.
The Unbearable Lightness of Verse 4
The Unbearable Lightness of Verse 4
he was the envy
of all the envoys
because of the size
of his diplomatic pouch.
Hard Times Haiku 2
Hard Times
he felt deleted
like a worn-out expletive
declined, like a noun.
Photos: Waiting for the Drop
Leonard Cohen’s Final Album (plus Poem)
Fascinating Interview (in The Guardian) with Adam Cohen on completing his father’s final album.
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2019/nov/24/leonard-cohen-adam-thanks-for-the-dance-interview
A poem from the past:
Driving Home with Leonard Cohen
Despite what he says
not everybody knows,
not everybody knows
like Leonard knows.
Not everybody knows
that the best songs
are about loss,
about endings;
about so long
ways to say goodbye
closing time,
and that age
can be laughed about
but not at,
if I had a hat
I would raise it to Mr.Cohen
perched up there alone
in his tower of song.
Limbo Blues (aka Existential Boogie)
Limbo Blues
today I remembered limbo
you can’t stand too far from the track
today I remembered limbo
you can’t stand too far from the track
the first line is about memory
the second is a disconnected fact
Bob Dylan mentions Rimbaud
Van Morrison does too
Bob Dylan mentions Rimbaud
Van Morrison does too
today I remembered limbo
Jean Paul Sartre, Albert Camus
existential boogie
do that existential thing
existential boogie
do that existential thing
you can do it in your armchair
summer, autumn, winter, spring.
Taking part in Open Link Night over at dVerse.
A Tanka for Boris Johnson
A Tanka for Boris Johnson
morning has broken
Boris is talking bollocks,
the sun’s going down
Boris is talking bollocks,
sun comes up, yep, you guessed it.
Too Many Questions (slimverse lite)
Too Many Questions
U is at?
Is u at?
At issue?
Is it u?
*a slimverse using only 6 letters
Bones of Contention 2 (poem)
Bones of Contention
Bones to pick
bones to chew on
Anderson, Chris and Don
but there are no metrics to measure by
so the discussions drag on and on
and the screen splits into two heads
and the screen splits into four heads
and the screen splits into eight heads
a pundit arrives
a pundit leaves
a pundit gets indignant
a pundit gets emotional
a pundit gets that gotcha smirk
there is talk of smoke and fire
there not been one without the other
and I see this distraction of pundits
this deflection of pundits
this confusion of pundits
standing looking at the horizon
across an open plain,
oblivious, while behind them
Rome burns.
Peripatetic Blues
Peripatetic Blues
The signs along the highway
are leaking semiotic fluid
psychotic cacti strike a calculated pose
linguistic lizards parse the parched desert floor
Slim’s feeling demotic,
neurotic, anecdotal, over-used
he’s looking for a sanctuary
the fisherman and the shoes
he’s got those my way is the highway
peripatetic blues.
Taking part in Open Link Night over at dverse.
Stopdraggingthepanda 