A-Z Nonsense


Absolute brevity counts

deviating exactly from

gargantuan hemispheres

including juxtaposed

kaleidoscopic lessons

maneuvering nicely opposing

political quintessence

righteously surrendered,

tendered under

vociferous wanton

xenophobic youthful

zealots.  

Buffalo Dreams

     

Visions of a long ago past

keep clouding my brain,

carrying me back in time

when herds of shaggy buffalo

roamed the verdant plains,

grazing peacefully on the lush

grasses and thinking of little

except taking the next bite.

Nomadic tribes followed the

mighty herds, giving praise

to their gods for the wonders

of sustenance freely given.

Every sinew, every shard of bone,

every inch of hide valuable gems

for improving the quality of life.

Brave warriors, dressed in hides

and lathered in specially-made

potions encircle the unmindful

beasts, seeking those best suited

for the entire tribe’s needs

.

Never taking more than would be

consumed, never wasting gifts

for the sake of one small part,

and always thanking the beast’s soul,

for dying so that others may live.

Traditions broken by the arrival

of ungrateful hunters who willingly

destroyed the herds to line their small

pockets with precious gold coins,

in their wake leaving only the

footprints of times long past. 

Drifting Along

Sunny summer days

Drift along

Taking my lazy ways

Across river deep and wide

Burst-of-color leaves

Silently fall

Calling my soul to grieve

For things unfinished

Speckled blue skies

Fill with migrating birds

Loudly, their cries

Call, inviting me along

\I yearn to travel

To see family far away

Concerns, worries unravel

Twisting around my fingers

Earth-bound am I

When winter approaches

Eager eyes look to the sky

Seeking freedom

Two souls

           

We fit together, you and I

Most times we see things, eye to eye.

For you, it’s sleeping on the right

Left is my choice always at night.

I listen carefully when you speak.

Good understanding, when at your peak

Moves us, as team, smoothly along

Seeking middle, where we belong.

When I smile, you always do, too.

And if I cry, you soon will coo.

For when one is sad, we can’t fly

No matter how hard we might try.

We love each other, that is true

For you love me, and I love you

.

Without you, I just couldn’t live.

So to you, my whole heart I give.

Trouble in the Air

 

silver birds trailing smoke across the sky

portending omens, making grown men cry

shadowy shapes eerily dancing in the flames

radiating unshaped evil in people’s games

flickering yellow lights and ghostly squeaks

shatter tender eardrums, raise swollen creeks

breaking the silence on dark winter nights

filling souls with torment, shivering frights

darkened halls, a mystical luminous room

place of magic and of gathering doom

witches brew, spirits bubble, liquids boil

creating magical potions with nary a toil

spreading poisoned fingers to make men die

silver birds trailing smoke across the sky 

Tough Words

When your dream becomes a reality

you will believe, with some certainty

all your hard work was worth the effort

now earning you well-deserved comfort.

The sky is the limit, some will say

and encourage you to not delay

the constant climb for the cherished prize.

Only then will there be no surprise.

The path is rutted and deadly steep,

filled with boulders and crevices deep.

Yet each small step leads toward success.

You have to focus, with faithfulness.

Dreams are supposed to inspire us, true.

Failure and struggles will challenge you,

orchestrating real disharmony.

Though the reason is still unclear to me.

Your Reply, Please

If I knock on your door,

a total stranger,

and when you see my old-lady face,

will you offer me a cool drink

and a simple slice of bread?

Or

will you cringe in darkness,

terrified of what my visit

might mean to the safety of your family?

If, when going down a steep flight of stairs,

I trip before you and

tumble over and over until

I am a jumbled heap of bones,

will you stop and offer care

like the Good Samaritan?

Or

will you step over me as if I

do not exist and

continue your journey to the

Neverland of your office?

If I appear before you as a tiny child

with huge eyes, tears streaking my cheeks,

hands openly imploring,

will you turn away without first

digging in your pocket for that

handful of change that constantly rests

in the folds of the fabric?

Or

will you bend down on one knee,

look me in the eye and ask

what you can do to offer relief?

If I am ill and dying, a frail old woman

with nothing to offer but my stories,

will you stay a while and listen

without checking your watch every few minutes,

wondering when the ol’ windbag will

cease to breathe?

Or

will you come every day to be by my side,

offering consolation and comfort

until my dying day?

If God appeared attired in majestic robes

and called your name,

would you leap up with exultation

and shout, “Here I am, Lord.”

Or

would you run away in fear,

hiding your face from God’s tender eyes,

knowing all the sins you harbor inside

for ignoring your fellows when

they needed you most?

Now is the time for action.

Now is the time to open your eyes

and truly see what wondrous

opportunities God has given us

to help one another reach the golden path,

together,

arm in arm,

step by step,

as we strive toward the heavens,

to live forever basking

in the glory of God.

If I call your name,

Will you answer?

           I Await

Insomnia plagues my nights.

She tickles me between the ribs,

plays with my fingers and toes,

counts them one by one

as she props open my sagging

eyelids with her prickly fingers.

She sends shock waves down

my trembling spine. She cramps

muscles well-past exhaustion,

and pinches stretched-thin nerves.

After raking her nails down my

tightened calves, she sits back

and cackles, reveling in my misery.

How I long to slap her face,

To send her flying into my

neighbor’s bed so she can inflict

herself on another unsuspecting soul.

But I don’t.

I restrain myself, praying that she’ll slip

away as quietly as she arrived,

leaving me in peaceful slumber.

Insomnia, you are not my chosen

best friend or my bosom-buddy. 

Leave me alone that I may travel

the distant shores of my dream-world,

experience the refreshing dip into the

pools of numbness, and drift deep

into the night, soaking up energy.

Sleep, come to me as softly as

a kitten tiptoeing into my lap.

Lick my parched lips with your

roughened tongue.  Caress my

cheeks with your silky fur.

Drip sleep-inducing nectar into

my eagerly waiting eyes, then

rock me to sleep with the rhythmic

beating of your heart.

I await.

    Buffalo Dreams

  

Visions of a long ago past

keep clouding my brain,

carrying me back in time

when herds of shaggy buffalo

roamed the verdant plains,

grazing peacefully on the lush

grasses and thinking of little

except taking the next bite.

Nomadic tribes followed the

mighty herds, giving praise

to their gods for the wonders

of sustenance freely given.

Every sinew, every shard of bone,

every inch of hide valuable gems

for improving the quality of life.

Brave warriors, dressed in hides

and lathered in specially-made

potions encircle the unmindful

beasts, seeking those best suited

for the entire tribe’s needs.

Never taking more than would be

consumed, never wasting gifts

for the sake of one small part,

and always thanking the beast’s soul,

for dying so that others may live.

Traditions broken by the arrival

of ungrateful hunters who willingly

destroyed the herds to line their small

pockets with precious gold coins,

in their wake leaving only the

footprints of times long past. 

  A Cowboy’s Lament

     

The trail is often long and dusty

but for me and my pony trusty

it’s simply great just to ride along

singing our special cowboy song

Ki-yi, little doggies, go home

I love this life, my own cowboy life

alone most days, not tied to a wife

roaming where’er my doggies find feed

rich verdant grass with nary a weed

Ki-yi, little doggies, go home

Some days I dream of a home and child

then I soon hear the call of the wild

wipe the tears away and again sing

about the summer, winter, fall and spring

Ki-yi, little doggies, go home

A smile creases my sun-wrinkled face

I’d rather be here than any place

riding the trails worn so long ago

by wood wagons crossing to and fro

Ki-yi, little doggies, go home

There’s not much hope for workers like me

who want nothing more than to be free

for cattle are bound by fences plain

even so, I sing my song  again

Ki-yi, little doggies, go home