Curious Prosodic Fauna

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“Every poet has

his dream reader:

mine keeps a look out

for curious prosodic fauna

like bacchics and

choriambs.”

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~ W.H. Auden

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Elfje;     (Cinquain)

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drunk

happy vino

dripping with honey

seeking the deviant pleasure

Bacchanalia

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Haiku:

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the vine slowly twines

natures cornucopia

fruits red, white and blue

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Poem:

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soothing gurgle of the fountains water
butterflies bobbing by
every soul nods an imprimatur
the background a clear blue sky

the gardner paints a living pallet
flowers arranged by size and color
protected from vermine by a small vallate
no defense against the creepy crawler

sunset visits from hummingbirds
migrating robins stop for a bite
a contented smile needs no words
all heads turn to follow the light

lucky the soul who enjoys God’s gift
natures flora and fauna displayed
happy are those with a gratitude list
knowing that nothing at all is man-made

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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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Into The Abyss

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“He drove his mind

into the abyss

where poetry

is written.”

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― George Orwell

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Elfje:

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mind

over matter

seeing is believing

illusions and skulduggery abound

mysticism

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Haiku

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rivers to oceans

water the essence of life

naming the seasons

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Poem:

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memories lost, memories rekindled
long timers share their stories from hell
their old faces scarred and wrinkled
of wedded bliss and good times they tell

moments of heroic courage and valor
fox hole prayers hoping to survive
the countries flag their favorite color
what the world was like in forty-five

the troops their  mighty numbers dwindl
some battles only remembered on library pages
their step and cadence no longer nimble
their cause and effort are one for the ages

how soon the next generation conveniently forgets
self consumed by their technological advances
will they eventually suffer agonizing regrets
indifference slowly diminishes their chances

the ego, the super ego, the id, debated
why does man want to destroy humanity
mementos and thoughts of the past desecrated
what will ever end this absurd insanity

don’t be the lemming, be the voice
when the swamp becomes putrid, pull the plug
hope and faith that there will be a time to rejoice
when all men will be greeted by a loving hug

history is know to repeat
can the cycle be broken
will Satan suffer defeat
can peace be the only language spoken

only time will tell

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ME and the Boss

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