The Greatest

“Muhammad Ali – A Change is Gonna Come” by Paul Lovering

 

you wore the big belt and carried your medals

through the vigorous years of my life

so I made you my champion

adopted you for my own smart-ass demigod

colliding with culture and crashing convention

and I hung up your face on those troubling times

there you stood in all of your prizefighting finery

taunting us

rampant with arrogance and handsome conceit

your dark chestnut body chiseled

peak conditioned and pluperfect capable

dealing its deadly art

brutally beautifully

intricate footwork no heavyweight ring

has before or since seen

your long lightning reach

taking painfully accurate measure

of man after powerhouse man

with jab after knifepoint-sharp jab

splitting eyebrows and rattling chins

before loosing fast hammering flourishes

raining down real red-gloved ruin

delighting your grin and buckling their knees

until coup de grace blows send them crashing

like mighty felled trees to the canvas

flippant poetry

spilled from your lip into microphones

while cameras found the cocksure

that twinkled your eyes

there you stand in all of your champion’s finery

taunting us

still

 

 

From my book Bohemian Scents

Integument

“Abstract Sea Shell” by Amiria Gale

armed with attitude

calloused and horned

flashing dangerous

striking a pose

giving all the wide world

middle finger salute

a real centerfold moment

for Bastard’s Home Journal

a strategy played

to keep people at bay

wanting no one

within an arm’s length

of his pain or the tears

that with practice

he learned to withhold

at the back of his eyes

armed with attitude

striking a pose

Seriously

“Anger”
Painting by Ingrid Morgen
From schaapcoaching.eu

when the hell did the world
become so inhospitable
what the fuck could it possibly
cost to be kind
show compassion
pay out some respect
give a shit about somebody
something or someone
who suffers beyond one’s own
self-centered shadow

where is civil behavior
toward loyal opposition
those teachable gestures
conveying polite understanding
of contrary viewpoints
what killed off the
empathic impulse
to tender regard of misfortune
who the fuck let loose
the dogs of derision and scorn

I am so God damned tired
of conflict reduced
to a mud-level meanness
a pissed-off cold cruelty
in place of plain decency
epithets hurled where
there used to be discourse
we’ve entered an age
when ad hominem vomit
is now de rigueur

not for me do I bristle and
seethe I’m retired from most
of life’s sparring arenas
but I have a passel of
grandchildren reared
to embrace reverent ethics
of honor and dignity
oh how I pray they were
not ill-prepared for
this vicious new world

(dear reader – excuse my language – it’s not at all my habit – I just couldn’t help myself)

Path

“Path”
Painting by Leonid Abremov
From redbubble.com

we the living

are dying

each day

one more

step of our

funeral march

do they plod

one in front

of the other a

tedious trod

or sashay with

a bounce

side to side

are they joyful

or mournful

compelled by

white sun

or wan moon

is their spirit

emotive or

drawn and

reserved

will these days

die in dance

or in dirge

life and death

the same road

meant to carry

one journey

per person

one singular

matter of mind

Windbreak

Thuja Green Giant Arborvitae
Photo from waysidegardens.com

evergreen soldiers
rebuff sound and fury

calm temperament
quiets the storm

preserves peace
at the gathering hearth

forbears contention
between generations

relegates wrath
to emotional orphan

stand in to the weather
staunch of purpose

let relationships
flourish in the lee

Feisty Old Bastard

 

“Blue Bird” by Sweet

 

 

woodland breathes in the rain

dripping canopy glistening

vividly green against slate-blue skies

the old blue jay sits hunkered

in the crook of a favorite bough

where he ponders his lucky longevity

wondering how in the hell

he alone has escaped all these years

from the red hawk the raven

the horn headed owl those raptors

who rule this perimeter forest

it’s not that he hasn’t had countless

encounters but every attack did he

meet and repel with a counterattack

of his own after all he has always

been fearless if never quite neighborly

small as he is he has arrogance large

with fierce pride not to mention

a devious larcenous heart and this

respite of rainy reflection allows

him to plan his next raids on the

nest-eggs of species more timid

than wise he’s a feisty old bastard

who squawks as he flicks with an

insolent shake of his flamboyant

crested cockade the spring raindrops

an ill-mannered attitude rude to the

gifts of the season and churlish

toward time more than happy to rest

on the cool smug assumption that

all said and done he is simply too damned

fucking mean to be anyone’s prey

when the time comes he’ll drop from

his perch no one’s victim his blue

feathers splayed on the ground

daring God and His creatures to

try and avoid the conclusion

that his was a life self-determined

unburdened by social proprieties

free from all notions of conscience

 

 

From my books Small Noise and Legacies (vol. 2)

Snail

Snail Trail
Photo by Krstnn Hrmnsn
From nextdoornature.org

whispers of movement
earn their moist progress leaving
shimmering traces
as with the tortoise and hare
speed is a matter of mind

What the Crab Said

Blue Crab
Photo from typesofeverything.com

some fool wrecked all the roads ahead

so forward motion’s dead to me

and backward is no real man’s choice

so sideways seems my destiny

I’ll warn you once don’t ever doubt

my merciless identity

steer clear my claws or rue to dare

and pay the price for testing me

Bill O.

Bill O’Reilly
Caricature by Rodney Pike
From newevolutiondesigns.com

O’Reilly fights the culture wars
And says the spin stops there
But he can be a boor and bores
When he goes on a tear

We often hold the selfsame views
And share disdain for guile
As practiced by the network news
But I don’t like his style

We both enjoy the oddball words
But using them is iffy when
The other guy has brains of birds
Or attitude Pecksniffian

Beware the Indifferent

“Indifference, Year of Peril”
Painting by Thomas Hart Benton

don’t be fooled by the cool and aloof
the vacant ones seeming impervious to
emotional darts or accusative arrows
unmoved by uncommon affliction
unaffected by obvious blessing or curse
ungiven to judgment and thusly
unmarked by their own culpability
gliding along upon amoral principles
floating among all the finest salons
giving insincere toast to men’s virtue

uncannily surefoot they stride upon
unstable grounds in full heave of truth
no heartlight gives glow from within them
they must steal what is bright from their betters
so their friendship is never benign
these are the world’s most dangerous people
for emptiness bears metaphysical weight
enough heavy to crush whomsoever they touch
compressing the soul of humanity into
its deadpan disquieting animal essence