Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Spring Break

Petey the peacock is
on Spring break.
Vacationing in the neighbors field
he’s forgotten what peacocks eat
because he’s now addicted to crackers.

You know the expensive kind from Costco
in the rectangular box that you take out for
company--not just any company but good
company-like the boss--the colleague from the
other firm that you want to impress--your
best friend--who remembers your birthday every year.

Yesterday he answered NOE-- NOE-- NOE--
and then, More-More-More
I don’t know who Noe is or where she is.
He usually comes and rings the dinner gong
around five with a loud NOE-NOE-NOE
Aieee--he sure is persistent--but I think
his clock is all hammer jang
because its five in the morning
So I’ve decided to place an ad in the Peacock
News for this Noe girl and all I can say is
she better bring some crackers!!

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Witty Epitaph

Here rests poor Connie Loon
brain cells bloated corpuscles strewn
wandered the galaxy beyond the moon and
was worm digested on the planet Dune.

Monday, March 29, 2010


You can’t fix it
believe it or even
set it free.

It hounds your every
waking moment and
then haunts your dreams.

It will follow you to
the Library
where it refuses
to open a book, citing
disinterest and boredom.

It can’t find a job
reach any goals
or even take care of itself
but has definite opinions
about your behaviour and
explicit demands
on your time and
it will eventually turn
on you
and then replace you
for no reason at all.

Sunday, March 28, 2010


in a cave
in Afghanistan.

It reaps famine from a
fertile poppy field
to children
that live in dark rat infested
tenements calloused and
manipulated by sparkles and beads,
where the truth
slices them and eats them for lunch.
And then leaves their bones for the
to pick clean.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Friday, March 26, 2010

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Photo Ops- Barku

(Barku--10 words in six lines--usually written on a bar napkin.)

Clear crisp
local hood
Bring newest
capture device.

is up for
your vote
on Face

Photo contests
to all
as pet’s

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Boogie Fever

Meadow Pause

Certificate of Completion, cherita

It bears witness to attendance at a seminar in Reno in 2002.

Cornelia DeDona of the Koolau Hawaii Chapter completed
Primary Officer Training, signed by Mike Keefe, Director of H.O.G.

P.O.T.-- the last time someone gave me
credit for pot, I was fifteen
and now it is an accomplishment.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Pink Tongues

Pink tongues cruel gossip
swallows spoiled dreams, ideas watch
victim gag at curb.
Posted by Picasa

Monday, March 22, 2010

Barku Campaign-Etheree

moving verse
reserve your space
talented poets
for Barku Fever reigns
on Planet Blueline this month.
Witness the brave innovative
observations, rants and muses from
this sharp worldwide writing community.


The poetry form, Etheree, consists of 10 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. Etheree can
also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

 10 words in six lines, usually written on a bar napkin.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Jail Time

The heavy iron door slid shut
made a loud clang, ringing in our ears
as their footfalls echoed
down the corridor
locking the four of us
safely away from the November, chill.
The interior gloom
enhanced only by them allowing us
to remain for the moment together.
Each girl watched the other for signs
of weakness. Would our resolve
hold up or drip like warm yellow Jell-O and discharge
into a sticky puddle on the cold, cement floor.
We had made up fake names and addresses.

For a brief moment, we actually thought
we would be rescued, the twins, Marty, her skinny
sister, Mary, Dawn, and I had run away
from nothingness into the adventure
of anywhere else.
Let’s go to Florida!
It had been a wild ride all right
meeting up with my Italian
friend in Passaic, her family
had a summer house across the street and
ending just outside of D.C. on a restricted
highway. Picked up for hitchhiking.

The fuzz gave us some new bracelets
to wear, took us to the county lock-up
on the way, chained together with a black
boy telling me “Don’t cry now
”it’ll be alright
in the morning” his smooth
southern drawl reminding us
that we had almost made it to freedom.
The police commanded us to heed their invitation
thaw out while they called
Marty’s brother in Florida
to come pick us up.
Only Marty’s bro
never showed
I guess he had
other plans.
Stirring my resolve into mush
So, I told them who I was, the others soon followed.
Dawn’s mother, our girl scout troop leader
showed up after we spent four days on the girls side
of the youth detention center.
It only took a week
before I hit the streets again.
This time I had a ride.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Pumping out a Poem

Shades of colored icing
carefully mixed and
inserted into a
flexible plastic bag.
Special couplers chosen and
brass tips attached.
Burped, angled and
gently pressed like clockwork
forming hundreds of
leaves, roses and basket weaves
swirled down and
hardening over time
into full fledged morsels of sweet verse
prized by perceptive eyes
devoured in rapid measure.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Hard Lessons

One day, carefree
testing boundaries
the next, mutilated
splattered on the side of the road.
Two friends killed instantly
Ziffel 18.
and Gary 19.

Out driving and partying
the four of them
in the back seat, Ed
escaped with a broken arm
and Woody
with hardly a scratch.

I was 15
it was May
still signing my own excuses
when I got the phone call.
They’re dead!
Hit Head On
their VW bug
by a drunken black caddy.

Time blurred
spiraled and
in due course
crystallized while
hitchhiking on the interstate
600 miles away from home.
It will be alright
in the morning
in my ear and
became my mantra
on the eve

of my detention.


Rough shocking film
Elaborating on the torture of immigrants
Names misspelled
Demand confessions from
Innocent engineers snatched off flights
Threatened-- forced to confess to heinous crimes they did not commit
Ignored as collateral damage--another
Offering heaped on the sacrificial altar
Negotiating an evil trend.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Maneuvering Steep Ledges

Yesterday’s verse
is fast asleep
tucked under the cover
of Vista’s keep.
Windows 7 could not comprehend
the niggling
of a poet on the mend.

Secrets pop out
demand details shared
scary snapshots
a youth caught scared.
Wading through
past lives
in galoshes stand
trudging through
the muck, of skeletons damned.

through rocky
decisions make.

Shh!! Asleep
for the moment
in another lair
vexing this writer
as I judge the crosshairs.
Dare we enter
into this divisive pact
or let it die
in the past
with its victims intact?

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Beating Heart

A constant
thump, thump-- thump, thump
to an anonymous composer.
the signature still visible
inside the dollhouse of dreams
just outside the babble
of the birth canal.

Pumping vibrant color
into a being
comprised mostly of water.
Ever faithful
vital force
broadcasting a blue spirit
through tiny narrow passageways.
Flooding a maze
of endless corridors.
Racing towards the outer limits
and returning back
to the source-- time after time.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Word Bag-Fun

Use these words to write a poem.
(Jammin’ salmon crisis early simple damaged fender accordion rose python grant clock crayon sunset rooster bell)

My damaged python Rose
endured some crushing blows.
This crisis could not predict
to time these reptiles slick
She wrapped her thick green form
around an acc-ord-ian
and that was when the clock
outside my Kitchen stopped.
Its simple arithmetic
for a python to constrict
when roosters ring the bell
for dinner time is hell
and sunsets early night
is crayoned cherry bright.
So grant this jammin rhyme
A reason to unwind
While I go mount this fender
back on the Ford tail ender.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Word Bag-Ku

(Jammin’ salmon crisis early simple damaged fender accordion rose python grant clock crayon sunset rooster bell)

Jammin’ Salmon splash
Swim into white water sweats
Pajama party.

Simple damaged fender
Suspended from garage beam
Obscure metal art.

Anaconda’s squeeze
accordion to flat tone
Python melody.

Salmon sunsets grin
As Burmese python swallows
Live alligator.

Daylight Savings Time
Local rooster validates
Mother Nature’s clock.

Thanks for the flowers-Alice, 'Ilima and Jenny!!!
Spider Mums unfold
Super white fingers poke space
Extend for poet.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Easy Come, Easy Go

I sometimes think there must
be a higher power or a
great spirit
watching over me,
just the fact
that I am still here
retired at 43 and doing
what I want living in paradise
is evidence enough.

After all, I could be a drug addict or an alcoholic
living under a bridge in New York off of Route 32
somewhere between Kingston
and New Paltz
freezing my ass off
looking through garbage cans at Mickey D's. for unfinished scraps
or begging for spare change
on the corner of Main and Broadway
outside the Trailways Bus Station just to buy a cup of Joe to keep my
fingers from turning blue turning the respectable

stomachs of the
good people who have to work and pay taxes
and who would gag from the sight and the stench
of the
likes of someone like me.

Instead I chose to have
a good life.
One that I earned
because nothing

came easy
or quick.
I had to move my own mountains.
Plow my own fields without any fancy tractors
or high tech equipment
that would have broken down
at inconvenient times and then had to fix myself, because no one else could.
Scrape and save
and then save some more.
Do without
so my child could have.

Easy come easy go
is an excuse I don’t use because none of it was easy.
Easy come, easy go is for snot nosed

spoiled brats with too much spare time and too much plastic.

Who don’t even know how to keep their nose clean

let alone have a clue about what hard or easy is

and that’s all
I've got to say
about that.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Memoir-- Ku

Memoir writer scans
back through an old volume as
history unfolds.

Memories expose
misspent youth searching for love
craving acceptance.

I find new meaning
looking back through life’s mirror
growing sharper scales.

I know who I am
other people don’t define
what my ideals are.

Cementing footprints
leaving my mark on the world
a poet lived here.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Shattered Dreams --ABCDarian

At eight, I knew everything.
Brazen and snot nosed, I came home that semester with C’s.
Carefully, I blocked out the pain of her con.
Daring my parents to reason what had happened to their bright child.
Evaluations were usually the first sign.
Fragments of memory would resurface
Giving birth to a full fledged rebel.
Hell bent on doing things my way, I had once sought refuge there.
I had been resourceful and hunted for ways to make extra cash.
Jean or Aunt Jean as she asked to be called was a neighbor.
Kind or so my parents thought, she paid me to dust her furniture.
Letting me earn extra money, slowly gaining my trust.
My new best friend gave me the combination to her shed, don’t tell, it’s our secret.
Now and then she would invite me to sleep over cementing our friendship.
Often naive to the rules of her sick game, I was a willing
Puppet performing in her show.
Quiet and trusting, I played by all her rules.
Right up to when she tricked me into telling her new best friend the secret combination.
Sly as an alley cat, she deceived both of us, the older girl still ignorant to her adult games.
Threatened and treated like dirt, she let me know she was done with me.
Unable to stop or predict the outcome, I ran home like a scared kitten.
Vile vampire seducing the blood out of my veins, wiping out whole blocks of time
Wasted--- on a wanton dyke, stolen moments exposing and fondling my childhood away.
X-rated nights, christened upon a lewd altar decorated with shame, repeatedly
Yielded at a vulnerable age that should have been better protected
Zeroing in on splintered glass, scored in sullied eyes.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The Tillson Gang

There was Harry, Woody, Ziffel, Rider,
my cousin Ralph, Gary, Pez,
Laura, Char, Arlene
Judy and Cindy, Big Ed’s sisters,
Duh-wane my boyfriend whose name was really
Wayne, a cute blonde guy I soon dropped and
Big Ed,
they were all part of the Tillson gang
a group of kids that I hung out with.

We would meet up on Gary's porch
next to the corner store
skip school together
sign each other’s excuses
have keg parties
check out the local cemetery and
usually end up at Rider’s house.

Rider’s Mom, a savvy nurse
would buy massive amounts of wonder bread
and humongous jars
of peanut butter and jelly for us kids.
Rider’s brother Kenny--not a member
was this gross dork
who got straight A’s and
wore thick glasses with tape on the nosepiece.
Just to torment us he would
pick the buggers out of his nose
big juicy green ones and
then stick them in his mouth

Eeeewwww! KENNNYYY ugh!

We would often go there for lunch
after smoking a doobie and then go
down into Riders basement and listen to
Led Zepplin, Jethro Tull, Uriah Heep and Black Sabbath.
Stoned on some primo Mexican
lulled by the heavy metal and the black lights
we would while away the hours and
then later grab a ride in Harry’s bug
back to Rosendale, sometimes
we'd try to fit everyone in squeezing
bodies into every square inch, the all time
record was fifteen.
The award
went to
Char who was so small
she could fit into the
compartment behind the back seat.

Occasionally the local fuzz would catch me

walking home after 7:00 p.m. and take me
to Kallops Corner and drop me off with a warning.
Far enough down the road that the old man
couldn’t see
far enough away-- from reality.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Just Dance, cherita

Use at least two of the following words to write a poem

Lazy, torpid, effort, fake, tsunami, forest, taro, shyly, lemon, sorry,
discipline, marmoset, fandango, slope, grape

It took disciplined effort

to teach the fandango
aware of his torpid demeanor

Trapped in a cage
dodging tiny mounds of
fake grape marmoset droppings.

Monday, March 8, 2010



monkey crossing

try washing your hair and

combing out that marmoset tail

you clown.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

I Have Enough

should be
six, seven
eight, nine, ten- more
eleven, twelve-eh
thirteen, fourteen-gulping
umm-fifteen, ahh- sixteen- then
seventeen, eighteen and let’s see
Yes- here’s Nineteen, and TWENTY DOLLARS
GOOD ----- I have enough for today’s Workshop.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Hawaii Five O- APB, Cherita

We gonna issue one APB, so try listen up.

Missing muses seen heading towards
Kailua Beach Park. Da kine names be Moose and Mercedes.

We got one tip dat dey
stay betting on da white horses.
Approach wit one shaka brah.

Thursday, March 4, 2010


Funny how family can be so different

He-- solitary
monarch brooding on yesterdays news.
She--a painted lady asleep in her cocoon- her delicate wings surviving
his brutal blast
dreaming in her closed off space.

Waiting for first light, for the siren blast warning of impending disaster
The full report unclear
He sets a plan in motion
doomed from the get go.

Their offspring--forever upsetting the cart
in the thick of things
the emotional bonds.
Vexed by the uncertain nature
of the day
somewhere between insanity and reason.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010


nine months
no belly bump
no thumping from within
no indigestion
from weird concoctions
scarfed at midnight


exposing some
in the moonlight
back at the wind.

Zeus, my brave dog
watching me,
taking it all in


Monday, March 1, 2010

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