Thursday, March 31, 2011

More on Common Sense

Common sense went to
Nepal got lost in a cloud
fell into crevasse.

Common sense journeyed
solitary on K2
nose-dived for nonsense.

Critical Thinking
hired for optimistic
journey, film at ten.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Common Sense

Common sense eloped

with critical thinking schlepped

affair on Face Book.

Monday, March 28, 2011


Run after everything that moves
Inspecting with childlike fascination their
Noses  checking the remains of dried bird poop.
Gregarious they plunge into the fishpond in their gourmand dash.
Tidily scooped out the rascals are then
Intent on ingesting lime green lizards and
Menacing bufo toads waiting for nightfall and
Equally keen to feast on delicate Formosan physiques.

Sunday, March 27, 2011


I was going to write

but visions of tuna chilling
in a cold closet dressed in celery and onion, drenched in mayo and
pressed atop whole grain slices flagged me down and held me hostage.

I planned to write a poem but had to do the dishes
cut the grass and reconcile my bank statement.
As I calculated the cost
I checked the mail,
watched Life is Beautiful
and folded a dryer load.
Before I could write
my son stopped by and
we shared a coffee. A poem

skipped through my brain
teasing me with
parallel trains of thought
which led me down a
primrose path
in pursuit of monarch
butterflies flitting from
flower to flower
purpose driven
in the valley
of soon and very soon
panting for more
pressing further and further
through the muck of have to and should have
until I finally arrived at the
corner of here and now
where I carefully penned this
rambling verse and post it now to you.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Three Ku

Exercise trainer
dawdles on tropical beach
slurping chocolate shake.

Neanderthal dog
crushes rocks with incisors
leaves huge cavity.

Steam bubbles conduct
quake seismic blue symphony
maestro behavior.

Friday, March 25, 2011


S weeping style suggests
E uphonious
L yrics
F ormatted by talented Authors, Artists and

P hotographers. An
U ninhibited
B allet of writing and art
L aunching an evocative brand of story;
I  nternal and external rhyme forming  fresh free verse that
S ketches a vivid assortment of characters. Altogether
H armonious
E nterprising and
D elightful.

**Acrostic/Review  Saturdays with Lillian:

Thursday, March 24, 2011


Freight train
Runaway car
horse trailer demolished
Slow motion pandemonium


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Bright Objects Hypnotize the Mind

**Inspired by the Academy of Poets Poster celebrating National Poetry Month in April

the mind, conceal
discernment in a
tapestry. A spinning
top wobbles and slams into
wall. A pear shaped diamond ring at
Tiffany’s. A shooting star. A slot
machine paying a huge jackpot. Bright things
hypnotize the mind. Sunshine mirrors sea
headlights glare inside island tunnel
the full moon’s steady starless ascent
a thousand candle watt light
shined into the starving
dark Chilean eyes
of trapped miners

**Double etheree

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

GOD Grew Tired of Us

That was when he created dogs

It was an off day

his son was lost in the wilderness

and he couldn’t find a decent grape

let alone turn it into wine.

No rest for the almighty!

Then his old buddy Lucifer

saw himself in a mirror

and suddenly thought

he was Caesar. And there was

some nasty talk about repossession.

So what was GOD to do?

He needed a friend

something that would love him

through the thick and the thin

the good, the bad and the ugly.

He needed good karma

to change the landscape

make the world a softer place.

It required creativity.

And lots of newspaper to soak

up those messy leaks and logs.

And GOD knew that

after listening Oi weh

to that voice crying in the wilderness

it was time to give his nephew

John the Baptist

a companion

someone he could cuddle up with

between those power locust lunches

with the new recruits.

So GOD created dogs

Tall dogs

small dogs

skinny, bald, muscled, hairy, yapping

howling at the moon dogs.

Spirited furry canines that didn’t bite the hand

that feeds them

who would love man and wo-man

no matter what they did.

And GOD relied on wo-man

to speak up and let man know

when he was getting crazy and warlike.

And although she tried to model good behavior

Man did not always listen, so sometimes he was sentenced to go to sleep in the dog house

which wound up being not so bad

because he could always rely on his furry friend

to lick his wounded alter ego

and show him that

he was still redeemable.

And if worse came to worse

his devoted friend would introduce him

to the new female dog

down the street


had all of her shots!

Monday, March 21, 2011

Alternative Publishing Panel

Saturday, April 16 · 10:30am - 11:30am

Kapolei Public Library

1020 Manawai St. Kapolei, HI

You have written a book but are wondering how to get it published. Join us for a panel discussion by three published local authors as they share with you a variety of different publishing  options you may not be aware of to get your newly finished book off to the presses. They will discuss self-publishing formats, publishers, online options and self-publishing. They will fill you in on the pros and cons of their choices and provide a list ot the publishers and options they discussed.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Easter Island

A single row
of moai statues
from massive ahu platforms
out beyond a cloudless coast
their landscape now
arid and treeless.

They face the sea and wait
for no one in particular.

The old ones have long since passed over
their silence roars like a cannon.

Traces of their language
frame an obscure curtain
as one face cracks
crumbling at the chin.

Tiny shards slowly release
the life-force that plummets
towards the jagged rocks below
taking old knowledge and forgotten history
along for the ride. Hammered and
lost at the bottom
by conflicting views
and swept away at last
by the raging sea.

That culture's most famous features are its enormous stone statues called moai, at least 288 of which once stood upon massive stone platforms called ahu. There are some 250 of these ahu platforms spaced approximately one half mile apart and creating an almost unbroken line around the perimeter of the island.

The Legend of Captain Bly and the Mermaid

Word Bag

(deluxe, rope, weight, lifesaver, broom, gauges, battery, fishnet, tide calendar, cooler)

The Tide Calendar hung lopsided
its edges curled and yellow.
Water flooded the bilge
the relic listed to the port side
barnacles clung steadfast
to the thick rope tightly tied to the dock.
The cabin reeked of mildew
and stale urine. Pitted gauges
balanced haphazardly amid the dust and grime.
In the corner a couple of dead AA batteries rolled over a faded photo
of the vessel and her captain.
A beauty in her prime
she was in desperate need
of a stiff broom, spit and polish.
Rusted cans of off white deluxe deck paint
stood prominently
beneath the starboard seat cushion.
The scarred cabin door
hung on for dear life
like a holocaust survivor.

Captain Bly once a handsome rake
regularly drank
his dinner, his vessel was aptly named
The Heeia Kea Queen after The African Queen.

His cooler was always well stocked
with green bottles.

His weighty reputation had
stretched beyond the confines of the small harbor
and swept throughout the windward coast.

He always wore a black shirt
the collar ripped at the neck
thin against his salty frame.

Often comatose
he dreamt nightly
of snaring a mermaid
in his fishnet.

He was her Lifesaver.

The next day
he would wake in a cold sweat
as she disappeared
into the sea flipping her tail
splashing him with sea foam.

One fateful morning he was gone
that was better than thirty years ago
Some say that the mermaid took him
others say it was them green bottles.

Either way
he finally succumbed to his deeds.

So keep in mind

A full cooler
doesn’t float
as well as a life preserver
even if you are a lifesaver
and unless you have gills
you could wind up sleeping
with the fishes.


Friday, March 18, 2011


You can do what you like

No strict guidelines to follow

No appointments to keep



Do you prefer dark chocolate

Or creamy vanilla

with your strawberries



Currency has been


We now take

Room keys.


Time stretches

across an undulating


Anna Karenina rises.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Taking Back Custody

Write a story that is between 100 and 150 words. The trick is you must use the following words: drink - rock - damage - heartless - destiny - cruel - abandon - lost - regret - bastard. Words may be used in different formats (for example: drink, drinking or drank)

It’s a new day
to rock!

Amend some damage.

Make better choices.

Listen up.

Read the signs.
And not fall for the same
old mistakes this time.

Abandon the whine
and regrets
for the heartless bastard
that did you wrong.

Re-write that song.

Outwit the cruel fanatic
that led you astray
paved the way
for your friends who lost
the game of life.

Rewrite your destiny.

Because drinking to get drunk
or getting wasted
to unwind

for you

isn’t cool
it’s a crutch

And you are smarter than that.

So carve a new path

And never
look back!

Rabbit Ears

We ran into

Peter Rabbit

at the Beach

and dared to ask the question

What do you get

when you introduce

two bull mastiffs males

to a fluffy white rabbit?




No-- it’s not,

a lucky foot,

Or rabbit stew

Do You Give Up?

These super smart canines know

that with rabbit ears

They can get not only

local network broadcasting

but with any luck

Animal Planet

and The Dog Whisperer.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

should scare the hell out of you.

We don’t even know how big it is

because it keeps growing.

Located somewhere between Hawaii and California

it is one of seven garbage islands

spread across the world’s oceans

funneled and trapped by planetary rotation,

converging ocean currents and wind.

6.8 billion people will inhabit

planet Earth by the year 2012.

As of 2005

33 million live in Tokyo alone.

Beijing has 12 million.

Los Angeles another 12 million.

And 80 percent of our garbage comes from land sources.

Garbage that

impacts our wildlife

that has the potential to hitchhike.


barnacles attaching to floating garbage

not normally found in your neck

of the planet

that can infect another

area’s native species.

Ninety percent of these islands contain plastic items

like nylon nets, six pack rings, balloons,

straws and sandwich wrap.

Water bottles, cups, bottle caps, plastic bags

and billions of plastic pellets called nurdles,

a byproduct of other plastics manufacturing.

Plastic that chokes whales, seabirds and other animals.

Brightly colored plastic pellets

that are mistaken

for fish eggs and krill

that is toxic

can magnify over time

across our food chain

and have an effect similar to DDT.

Plastic that does not break down easily in water

that is cooled and coated with algae

shielded from sunlight and

will last well into our future.

Clean-up and removal of these islands is futile.

They are growing faster than we can clean them up.

Our task begins here

Get involved

Clean up local beaches

Suppress further growth

by recycling and reducing the amount

of trash you throw out.

Your future is at hand.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

How many Friends Do You Have?

I have four hundred and forty.

He is a new friend on FB

but he doesn’t have any posts on his wall.

He is a relative

but his wall is a blank space.

We share nothing.

We do nothing together.

I have

added him

to my list

of friends.

Cyber space

can be so cold.

The distance

is unfathomable.

The point



Thank-you for including me in your event
I won’t be attending your celebration.
I have a previous engagement
perhaps another time?

It appears that Madame Pele
has a big surprise in store.
She’s busy cooking up
a decades old favorite recipe. It is a spicy concoction
sure to overwhelm
it promises
to melt the taste buds.

She is rearranging the table
as we speak. Had to lower it a bit
underwent a major transformation.

Clever hostess
insists that everything be just right.

The invitations
have all been sent.
The seating is fixed.
The guest register
reads like a who’s who
on the endangered list.

Says here to take note
the ring of fire
welcomes all
Mind the dress code and
observe the boundaries.

Friday, March 11, 2011


Lovely diva brays distinctive solo. She

Lusts for a three year old male. Tamed they

Are friendly and pleasant company.

Mature llamas guard livestock. Once depicted

As the god Urcuchillay by the Inca.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Six Word Memoirs on Writing

Voracious words eat writers for breakfast.

Syllable stew simmers notably spicy syntax.

A and E unite against U.

I keeps date with lady O.

I O U an E Mail.

Consonants pick up vowels; add meaning.

Cross word puzzles create sharp minds.

Pencils consistently lose their terse point.

Red pens bleed over tabloid article.

Articulate writers never get over themselves.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Laying Odds

Thank-you to David Johnson for this video

The weatherman was wrong.

My back yard is now a raging river.

I'm no expert

but as we speak

a traveling mass of dead leaves and dirt

has clogged the storm drain

and is forming a brown island

reaching towards a gray sky

obscuring mountainous peaks.

The weatherman didn't know

that it would pour

only that there was a

chance of showers.

Swirling streams now converge

on yesterday's cracked soil

flooding crevices

And a thick green carpet

threatens to overtake

and cover the curb.

So be sure to carry an umbrella

and apply your sunscreen

Because being mere lay people

of average intelligence

who live in screened houses

with glass windows

we can't even hope

to predict the weather.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


Cute retiree loves dark chocolate and

Olive-skinned men.


Nature lover is

Impulsive and


Monday, March 7, 2011

Sweet Nothings

Decades had come and gone

since they had met

her face was lined and her eyes less blue

but she still had a spring in her step

she could still waltz.

The soft scent and velvet feel

of the petals had drawn her in.

She inhaled deeply

her thoughts in faraway

Rudescheim Germany

in the valley of the Lorelei

on the right bank of the Rhine.

He had taken her out

to dinner and dancing

at a quaint inn

just off the drosselgasse. (lane)

It had been a warm August night

and the food and wine had flowed.

She had felt safe

comfortable in his embrace

as he guided her effortlessly

across the dance floor.

Her pulse quickened

as he murmured a sweet nothing

reminding her once more that

he had stolen

the rose

out of Rosendale

and that their melody

would play on

just like the

player piano

at the famous

music museum.

Sunday, March 6, 2011


Another slice of watermelon please!

Belle barked her order as

Chunks of sweet juice

Dripped down her chin.

Eloise, her Mother, had

Forgotten her bib

Girl, you are a sight! She grinned back at her Mom

Happy, her smile was

Infectious. The remains of the

Just eaten watermelon slid out of her chubby fingers.

Kool-Aid stains

Laced with the sweet syrup soaked her white t-shirt

Mom couldn’t help but smile.

Naturally the fruit landed

On top of her chest

Perfectly. Belle giggled again and slapped the top of the tray

Quite proud of herself

Releasing the

Sticky fruit which promptly slid

To the seat of the highchair

Under her chubby legs

Vaulting a


Xing and achieving extra

Yardage in a

Zigzag zoom.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Indian Givers

*** Inspired by the book,
“Indian Givers-- How the Indians of the Americas Transformed the World” by Jack Weatherford

Mark the writing on the wall.

Take heed.

The painting in the cave sweats.

It elicits our response

to ignore it

will incur a penalty.

Reconsider the truth

of their contribution to our society.

They remind us of when our resources

were many

and the tether that held us


taught us true democracy and

revealed how their gold and silver

could provide us with a rich economy.

The Native American healer

introduced us to quinine

and the bark that healed malaria,

later transformed into a medicine show

and reintroduced as a healing tonic.

From the woody vines

of the chondodendron

in Peru

we came to know

curare a deadly

muscle relaxant,

to ointments

like petroleum jelly

still sold today as precious goods

by street vendors in Mali.

We have provoked centuries

of painful forced labor upon them.

Ignored their contributions

and drained the oceans of them.

We know more about the dead


then about

the pockets of indigenous still alive.

Long before Columbus

landed in the West Indies

the Inca had built sophisticated highways

and bridges from Cuzco to Quito.

The North American

native pathfinders

blazed interlocking trail networks.

The Iroquois dispatched armies

from deep inside Canada

to the Carolinas.

The indigenous lead the European settlers west

developed a system

of canoes and small boats to reach

every corner and crevice

of the Americas.

And yet the history and culture

of the Americas

remains a mystery

It screams

for discovery.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Remembering Home

Let’s just say

The Beatles reigned
in Tillson Elementary school.
The cute boys,
the songs we danced to during recess.
I can still remember riding home
in the back seat of the school bus,
bouncing high every time we hit a bump
on the twisting old country roads.
My friends and I giggling
in our bright new clothes
just picked up from layaway.
My long straight brown hair
tied back in a ponytail
fastened with a matching colored band.

I woke up early on school days
it got really cold
in the winter
in upstate New York.
The old furnace
was turned down at night
this warmed up the downstairs nicely.

Upstairs the feather down comforter
that grandma sent from Germany
pulled up to my chin,
was all that protected me
from the frigid air in my bedroom.
I would lay out my school clothes
the night before,
dress, tights, shoes,
and race to pull them on.
Goosebumps covered
my arms and legs.

I loved my room, it was private.
I had my own portable TV
and stereo where I could practice

She Loves You
and I Want To Hold Your Hand
into my hairbrush
each afternoon after school.

Before Mom got home from work
and I had to start the potatoes.
Before Dad
would bellow I’m Home
where’s my dinner?

When being the oldest

meant you were accountable
when everything had a proper order
and my audience
would have to wait
until after
the dishes were done.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Feminine Legacy

She had traveled to six different continents

flown, cruised, driven, motorcycled and hiked

had walked inside the empty pyramids of Giza
marveled at the Sphinx
and the Coliseum in Rome.
Toured Vatican City and St. Peter’s Basilica,
hiked up steep mountainous cliffs
to the monasteries in Meterora.

Sailed down the Rhine
waved at The Lorelei
crossed the St. Charles Bridge in Prague.
Motorcycled around the Southern rim of the Grand Canyon
and witnessed the beauty of the fall colors.

She had climbed up steep steps
on the Great Wall of China
and posed for a picture
in front of Cristo Redento in Rio de Janeiro.

She had survived hordes of hungry flies
driving in a rental car
to swim in the great barrier reef in Australia
and along the way had shared dinners with
doctors, lawyers, teachers
seniors and exchange students
some robust and others on their last leg.

She had inhaled the markets of Casablanca
sampled their wares, skirting old men
smoking stale cigarettes drinking strong coffee
holding fast to ancient beliefs
no longer relevant to anyone but them.

Ignorant men
trapped inside decaying walls
stinking of urine and fish guts.
where women
are traded and bred as cattle.
and the smart ones get locked away
in cliff towers, never to be seen or heard from again.

She knew that she was
one of the lucky ones
that this still goes on
today evidenced by

movies of women being stoned
by indifference and fear
courageous women

who dared to upset the status quo.

Good women and their daughters
discarded like trash
by uncaring husbands.

By fathers who would taunt their children to
eke a living from a stone field

who had summoned the courage

to work for a
widower’s paltry coins
and were later accused of sleeping
with their employer.

She witnessed the degradation
and the intolerance
saw a courageous soul stand up
and speak out, branded as crazy
the name Soraya forever etched
into her hard drive.

She had touched the stain
that is mankind
and still she
dared to hope.

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The Dark Path Brightens

It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...