Day: December 13, 2016

The state banquet

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I am writing a short story about Trump sitting next to the Queen at a banquet.She has a few lead weights in her handbag just in case.Or maybe she’s wearing steel underpants with spikes.The tutor seems taken with it but am unsure if I can finish it.Is it wrong,,there’s something about his expression that seems to wound my heart and make it tremble?
We live in little bubbles and he’s not penetrated mine before.What will the progeny be?Lilith?
Well,people like a change, as Goebbels fatuously remarked before swallowing his cyanide capsules.They need a change.But to what? It’s bewildering my spouse greatly.That is true or I die.I might die anyway,if you can read between the signs.
Don’t forget, what is not here today might live tomorrow.

To tell the truth and not a wild, cold lie?

My fingers trailing in the river
I see the sun reflecting ripples fly
Would you like to be forever
In this   gliding boat until we die?
Or will you forsake  your illusions
To tell the truth and not a wild ,cold lie?

The sun is ideal as a  poet’s symbol
The god of fire and love and life.
The mighty one can make us tremble
Or burn the vision out our eyes.
Retinal tender, silky cobwebs
May not last until we  come to die

Many love the moon’s reflection;
Her silver crescent slender as a bone
And for many she’s perfection
While for others she’s a  smiling crone
In the gliding boat I still look upward
Silent,trembling,aching,all alone

 

Wild geraniums

 

Stepping through the door
I am assailed by perfume
Wild geraniums.

I ease these flowers
Out of  the    patio bed
For they cover sage.

They cover flowers-
Blue geranium and saxifrage
Rosemary  sprawls now

Lavender’s nearby.
Now  inside  I hear singing.
Bird by the windows.

A robin came in,
Looking for my old man
I said,he’s not here.

Embodying soul
Sacramental  life in scents
Flowers are themselves.

How I’d like to lie
In the poppy-filled meadows
With my beloved.

Or splash through the ford
Near the open air display
Work of Henry Moore.

The topology
Of his sculptures moves my heart
Vast,holy, peaceful.

Massive like  unto God
They transform the soul and body
Into one being.

Then we are all one
With the sloping green meadows
And the wind bent trees.

Most of all,I know
Wildflowers are God’s darlings.
How he dwells in them.

Low,modest beauties
On the verge of the main road
See ,even here, smiles.

To lose one’s own self
To become a wild-flower
Grace will sanctify.

First, grow an ego
Then lose it in these green woods
Unselfconscious Eve.

It’s as broad as it’s wide

A wonderful word is parallelogram
Its sides can be longer or shorter than.
There’s enough space inside
It’s as broad as its wide
So there’s no need to send me a telegram

PUTIN AGREES TO RECEIVE INTELLIGENCE BRIEFINGS IN TRUMP’S PLACE [Satire]

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 http://www.newyorker.com/humor/borowitz-report/putin-agrees-to-receive-intelligence-briefings-in-trumps-place?intcid=mod-latest

SATIRE FROM THE BOROWITZ REPORT

PUTIN AGREES TO RECEIVE INTELLIGENCE BRIEFINGS IN TRUMP’S PLACE

By

NEW YORK (The Borowitz Report)—In what Donald Trump’s transition-team members are calling a further example of international coöperation, Russian President Vladimir Putin has agreed to receive daily U.S. intelligence briefings in the place of the President-elect.

Trump, who had earlier decided that he did not need the briefings and had assigned Vice-President-elect Mike Pence to receive them, said on Tuesday that Putin was a “much better choice.”

“In securing the Russian President’s services. “The American people are getting an amazing deal here,” he said. “Putin is doing this totally for free.”

We must be incarnate

 

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So much depends on mood and time of day

We interpret or mis-shape what we perceive.

The sun may shine to show a better way

Or absent that,  a transient cloud deceive.

 

No lowing herds wind down our oil fumed  roads.

Tranquillity at dusk has disappeared.

With artificial light the daytime mode’s

 Prolonged and reverie’s  feared.

 

To truly live we must be incarnate.

God himself  has paid this price alone.

For time misspent we do not get rebate.

As ,like the leaves in wind, away we’re blown.

 

To live  aright perception must be clear

Including in its breadth all that we fear.

Harm churner

  • oxford2016-1Bank has fit
  • Baptism by liars
  • Spare buns?
  • Hare faced  cryer
  • Large pun
  • Larking lad
  • Parking up the wrong tree again?
  • Harm churner
    A  warren of  grief
  • Casket base,
  • Biased hack words,
  • Cats  have eyelids
  • Sat the  radio underground,
  • Baited Wrath,
  •  Tax pats  for the wealthy.