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I gave her
latitude,
took the higher
road.
Appeasement
never works.
She drank all
my whiskey
and stole my
parakeet.
The Romans bathed
naked in the
Tiber, and she
wins wars with
a smile.
Never mind the
casualties.
Check out my you tube channel where I read from my recent book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2RTVZcWtVM
Adding minutes to a lifetime (saying magic words)

”And you, dear poet, friend of many years,
have given me so many inspirations, birthed within
us words,so oft, and so well, that your pithy observations,
manufacture time, add minutes to lifetimes

<>

wrote these words without thinking,
they’re sweet and neat, trivial but incomplete

but upon rear mirror review, Mr Poet
re-thinks, perhaps deserved of another serving,
curvy white, soft-to-the-lips, a moist vanilla kiss,
excellent ice cream in a sugar cone, words irresistible

for the sweetest poem sparks multi-coloration-explosion
of sprinkles ‘pon  a skin’s surface,
uprisings of what lurks in the centrum of your
embodied universe and disembodied soul,
shockingly uprising from an internal fulcrum,
sea~tossed flotsam of a jagged life, now, all recovered
words sprinkling, beach treasures, and yet,
*
adding minutes to a lifetime…

reliving old reels, is time recaptured, creating a
certain robust additive to thine cranking and
cranky engine, that’s logged much more than
a picayune hundred thousand miles on a voyage
of e i g h t decades, you employ ten fingers to
calculate your fugue of multi-voiced numerations!


can it be? it cannot be! millions upon millions of
minutes, possess and passed, yet highlight feature
films, enabling reliving so real that by watching,
seeing, believing, re-reading it is as if one is earning
life extensions…adding minutes to a lifetime…


‘tis true, rereading every small scrip, every poem,
returns one to prior-places, each a datum,
a particular spot, a point upon a schema of integrity & integration,
that rule the visions, a message of individualism
in the largest context of a true vision(arie)


“chacun un point dans une peinture pointilliste…”
“each a point within a pointillistic painting…”

in a few years, a stumbling upon shall here return me here,
and I will smile with great gratitude for the life extended,
accepting with gratitude,

these few seconds, a last lasting chance,**
to say some magic words
with a great vanilla whispering
adding minutes to you life as well


nml
may 5~6
2024
On the Center Island embankment
Mother Mallard sits on her eggs 24-29 days
One hour twice a day in the sunshine,rays
She must leaves her eggs unprotected
Starvation never realizes the unexpected

Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle
Had eight eggs under their care
Predation, Herons claimed seven there
A perfect duckling name Little Paddle
The only Duckling to survive

Fluffy, healthy, strong Full of energy alive
Fiddle and Faddle guarded Little Paddle
From dillydallying around
For a wild Little Paddle
Mischief can easily be found

All mallard ducks pair off The same way
Pecking order, preservation at play
Mother Mallards sit distant from the flock
Mrs.Fiddle Mr. Faddle and Little Paddle
Animal instincts stay distant from the dock

One fine day A mishap dismay
Wiggle and waddle they progressed
Refreshed, Digressed and obsessed
They search for their missing Little Paddle

Under a Elderly Mother Mallard’s wing
A small Beak seen it’s the cutest little thing
Out pops Little Paddle
squeaking and squawking “ here I am”

Fiddle and Faddle tired of worry walking
Mrs. Fiddle pitched a fit, spit and Spatial
A plangent tangent, of loss, of pain
But for a Little Paddle it was just a game

Harmoniously Honking all is right as rain
Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle
Have a heck of a time gripping the rattle
The parenting reins in the saddle

Growing quickly with giggles and gaggles
The adventures of Little Paddle
BLT Webster’s Word of the Day
Plangent
Such a sound that describes a loud, deep expressive of sadness or suffering
There is a  place
On memory lane
The blind can see
Jesus healed the lame

The tree of life
In the center of it all
Grows 12 different fruit
Summer winter, spring, and fall

Purity rules, each and every day
Peace of mind in every way
Evils of earth are all forgotten
Depravity, every thought rotten

Only love prevails
Memory lane exist
In folklore, fables ,fairytales

Here on earth, we learn our worth
Can be found in Jesus Christ first
John 3:16
A fable uses, puns, and metaphors, describing a subject meant to be guessed by the listener to teach a moral
Fables use puns, metaphors, they introduced us to rhyming mnemonics, allegorical use of language.
I’m exploring and different types of poetry
It must be dark
out here in the cold penumbra,
where mile after mile
no one smiles,

dots and loops,
dots and loops,
a kind of blissful nullity,
beautiful and pointless,

wearing at the edges
it almost stings,
seclusion unraveling
at the underground in us all,

aubade aberrations abound,
challenging the orthodoxy
of the troublesome
morning road,

but should this near-life experience
hydroplane toward
another mineshaft, it helps to know
less is less, not more.
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