Words Conceal

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“…if you do not

even understand

what words say,

how can you expect

to pass judgement

on what words conceal?”

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~ Hilda Doolittle

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Elfje:         (Cinquain)

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understood

knew it

could define it

could intelligently discuss it

comprehended

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Haiku:

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quick summer shower

brought the humidity up

barely wet the lawn

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Poem:

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Sirius and the dog days have just passed
the sweltering heat remains
lethargy and indolence are forecast
there is a definite slowing of the brains

the boll weevils don’t seem to mind
hound dogs trying to avoid the ticks
seeking shade wherever it can be found
even too hot to discuss the local politics

the cat hides under the kitchen sink
licking condensation from the cold water pipe
so oppressive that one can hardly think
the fruit on the vine is close to overripe

a dark cloud grows over the horizon
praying for a needed cooling rain
hoping to survive this very dry season
there is no movement on the weather vane

checking the almanac to see what is next
summoning the indians to do a rain dance
barn painted with signs to ward off the hex
the farm has always been a game of chance

thank God that the farmer is resilient
we eat because they are so persistent

 

 

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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To The Bottle

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“Ho! Ho! Ho!

To the bottle I go

To heal my heart

and drown my woe.

Rain may fall,

and wind may blow

And many miles be still to go

But under a tall tree will I lie

And let the clouds go sailing by”

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~ J.R.R.Tolkien

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Elfje:         (Cinquain)

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exploring

uncharted territory

going in circles

here, there and everywhere

lost

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Lune:    5 / 3 / 5

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brilliant sunset hues

painters dream

inspiring many

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Poem:

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tropical squalls temporarily cool
mugginess is not far behind
the old drunk mounts his bar stool
it’s one too many until he’s blind

the keep sets his watch by this routine
conversations mumbled in grunts
who likes which color of the jelly bean
we’re not as bad as those mendicants

coughing up bits of liver
bulbous nose and jaundiced eyes
no air conditioning yet he sits and shivers
it will be a short time until he dies

wallowing morosely in their own phlegm
alcoholics isolate, want to be alone
push away anyone who loves them
abuses that Nature does not condone

normal people do not drink poison
the alcoholic’s will power can not stop it
it is most often inherited, this malediction
to this disease the suffering will not admit

the brain is truly on backwards
the on/off  switch is broken
oblivious to what really matters
the lost soul his feelings unspoken

there are some who do recover
those who put faith in a Higher Power
they must be willing to accept and discover
habits to include a new happy hour

fighting a disease that has a social stigma
anonymity becomes their refuge
shared experiences resolve the enigma
tears of joy create a brand new deluge

the real secret is helping others
shedding the selfish self-centered ego
a happy new family of sisters and brothers
a ‘one day at a time’ positive credo

age, race, religion cannot dim their mutuality
send a friend, send an enemy, all are welcomed
Anonymous has a telephone number in every city
with a common cause they are all connected

most learn to love it, some do not
there is never any harm in trying
a new way of living must be sought
to those who love you, it will be gratifying

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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