Sunday, October 15, 2017


For the Poetry Pantry #375, wherein
 I dream fake news  (sigh).
Submitted to Poets United
October 14, 2017

I had a wonderful dream
Oh!  What a trip it was
All the world’s cares fell away
In that land of just because

As I swung from the brightest star
I was young, and free and wise
I danced on the Milky Way
And frolicked through the skies

I sipped from the Big Dipper
And took a hike on the moon
The skies were filled with music
And it was always a happy tune

It was as I prayed the world to be
Hate, hunger and disease had vanished
It was bitter cold on Outer Mongolia
Where Trump and Kim Jong Un were banished

Where they can continue to swagger and threaten
But they’ll get their justly dues
Oh how I wish this tale were true
But Alas!  It’s just fake news.


Monday, October 9, 2017


De has chosen HOPE for this week’s
quadrille, much needed for her city
of Las Vegas.  As usual this is to be
44 words, excluding the title.
Submitted to dVerse
October 9,  2017

When evil rears its ugly head
And seems to fill our souls with dread
We reach within for ways to cope
And tap our inner store of hope    
With faith we manage to soldier on
After darkest night, there’s always dawn. 
Hope springs eternal.


Saturday, October 7, 2017


A comment on modern life.
Submitted to Poets United
Poetry Pantry #374
October 8, 2017

We spend much of our modern lifetime
In pursuit of a thing we call class
And status is oh, so important
If society’s test we’re to pass.

We’re hung up on designer labels
That are stitched to the back of our jeans
We think it’s of utmost importance
To appear to be people of means.

We all want to be “beautiful people”
Who belong to some private group
Rub elbows with “movers and shakers”
And move in the “inner loop”.

How I love it when on occasion
I escape from the frantic fray
And return to the home of my childhood
Where they still live the simple way.

For the most part they’re hard-working people
With neither tennis court nor pool
They don’t spend much time on status
Just honor the Golden Rule

They could care less about a label
Or fashion’s twist or turn
But, if a neighbor needs help, they help him
And ask not for pay in return

They always take time to say “howdy”
And to smile at each person they pass
They’re kind and they’re warm and they’re caring
And they have what I’d say is REAL class.

Photo my original digital art.

Thursday, October 5, 2017


It’s Open Link at dVerse.  I’m having a
busy week, so here’s a bit of brief
Submitted to dVerse Open Link #205
October 4, 2017

With his healthy libido
And wearing his speedo
He felt quite the ladies man
With his handsome physique
He thought himself really unique
Charming ladies was his big plan.
But the ladies ignored him
In fact they implored him
To just go away …  if he can


Tuesday, October 3, 2017


Poetics by Paul this week, and  he asks us to take
a look at grammar, THE RULES, and how to break
them.  Brief mine is of necessity, scrambled were
my brains!
Submitted to dVerse Poetics
October 2, 2017

Throw Momma from the train her hat.  Here are cookies
for the family that are chocolate in my bag.  I thought not
much, but that photo catches my eye in your hallway. 
On hungry arriving, I got a hamburger from that restaurant
that cost $9.00.  It was an expense up with which I will not
put again.  But, glad to be here I am.


Monday, October 2, 2017


Haibun/Haiku Monday at dVerse, and
Victoria has chosen FROST as
our theme.
Submitted to dVerse
October 2, 2017

James Whitcomb Riley said it best … “When the frost
is on the ‘punkin’ and the fodder’s in the shock”.
Autumn is a kaleidoscope of  memories for me.
It was my mother’s favorite time of year, and she
loved to arrange a Fall display by the yard gate.
First she’d bring corn stalks from the field and
fashion them into a shock, then harvest her Indian
corn, pumpkins, and colorful gourds  to gather
about it.  A bale  of straw became a seat for the
scarecrow she fashioned from my father’s old
overalls.   If we were lucky, we had a few weeks
to enjoy the display before that first night when
the temperature plunged and we woke to
sun-sparkled frost crystals.  It was a magic time
of  harvest, hayrides, wiener roasts, apple barns,
burning leaves and the honking of geese overhead. 
In memory still, I breathe in the pure, crisp air of home.
Fodder in the shock
Jack Frost can’t be far behind
Winter’s harbinger

Saturday, September 30, 2017


Submitted to Poets United
Poetry Pantry #373
September 30, 2017


Under the highway overpass, sun browned leaves
 skitter across the pavement and gather about the
cardboard castles of those who call them home.
Their residents seek escape from the real world.
Jaded with empty pleasures, haunted by old regrets
and unfulfilled promises, their stories are as varied
as their faces.

A heartbeat away are the glittering hotels, the valet
parking, and the posh pubs where money and liquor
flow freely … and  the beautiful people seek escape
in other ways. 

the road to escape
disparate byways chosen
a dichotomy