I recall the rural life of the butterfly
Extravagantly —that proud floating mass of wings.
Her wings flutter from sea to coast so eloquently,
Yet silent with the muteness of frightened breeze.
They are banners with buntings of newness — striped,
Spotted, arched, dotted.
Her flamboyant life history, reading it backwards,
Is an exhibition of time and cosseted patience . . . .
The winged one, aged and tried, schleps to the stirs of a narcoleptic pupa,
Hanging on the banisters of a dear larva who’s egged on to
......
AI,
paint me Mona Lisa
without a smile,
no dimples,
without a brush,
and with no paints.
But retain her eyes —
they wink at me with Mediterranean lure.
......
At the Cathderal
one dusk,
the general image,
that of receding
glint of the sun's lair
The cupola of the basilica,
the basis of its strength;
the idyll-lined frames
for green verse
......
"America, so good at killing, we do it in school!"
I hear they say; that the enemy of my enemy is my friend,
so when she strolls in with stars in her eyes,
the bruises of past trauma hidden just under her skin,
just behind the blood she now bears on her own hands,
those black leather,
waffle stomping boots,
with gristle and grime,
another victim falling to "revenge",
......
Oh, I just got blocked on Commiebook
Needing evidence they had to dig back 4 years and take a look
Finally finding words to use against me they say
Blocked from Commie book
For another 21 hours and 28 days.
It's true I am a unique individual
And as many see the world in my own particular way
But Comrade Zuck all bow to the king disagreed
Clamped on the irons and silenced me
......
At the Cathderal
one dusk,
the general image,
that of receding
glint of the sun's lair
The cupola of the basilica,
the basis of its strength;
the idyll-lined frames
for green verse
......
"America, so good at killing, we do it in school!"
I hear they say; that the enemy of my enemy is my friend,
so when she strolls in with stars in her eyes,
the bruises of past trauma hidden just under her skin,
just behind the blood she now bears on her own hands,
those black leather,
waffle stomping boots,
with gristle and grime,
another victim falling to "revenge",
......
I have a plan
Yes it may be unconventional,
But as a fan
I assure you its success will be intentional.
Most of you may know me
My talent feted shore to shore,
With puppets real as all can see
Talking, singing and much more.
......
Here comes Mr politician,
Arms outstretched
For a warm embrace.
Grasping tightly,
your attention.
while he eyes up with his mask
your pride and profits
Here comes Mr soldier,
In-firm support.
......
I know I'm slightly losing it and Jill sees that now too,
So all we can but hope for is to Bluster and to Woo.
What If I sometimes falter with names or something more,
Only Fox is bent on keeping that lame and pointless score.
The rest of my fan Media provides me with great flak,
While I air my inner Irish and repeatedly attack.
As to the clueless voters I truly feel for all,
I quietly do get them, as the choices do appall.
Trump is but a cannon with a worn-out rusty bore,
......