50's Milestone Shorts

Poem a Day
charge’s brain’s battery.

50’s boomer hikes
Diamond Head trail.

Still trying to
learn new things.

Changing with times
sparks stimulus package.

50’s best life
is staying green.

50’s quiet reflection
six word memoirs.

Golf at 50
sinks two putts.

50’s golf swing
flies the distance.

Book smart babe
writes poetry books.

50’s life story
roams evocative lane.

Time well spent

Time well spent
is a man
sowing seeds
in rich loam
watering and feeding diligently
day after day
repeating the process
until finally
he eats the reward.

is a good book
read
in pursuit
of personal growth
that gives up its seat
on the train
of popular thought.

is a belief
challenged
on the road
to
paradise
that passes
through
a
parallel
universe.

is time
spent
with family
anywhere
anytime
conversing,
their minds connected
to the same antenna.

Windy,Cherita

Kona winds

scatter lightweight objects
to four converse corners.

A tiresome
puzzle
to piece together.

Siblings-Aphorisms

The oldest child
breaks through barriers.

The middle kid
sports steel determination.

Sisters exchange secrets
friends share information.

Siblings have rivalry
friends craft alliance.

The youngest one
never grows old.

Sisters for life
family still rules.

A Great Dane's Report on New Year’s Eve in Hawaii

I would be the first to piss on all of them
and all their explosives.
I would make sure to tinkle on all of their matches
not a single aerial or even a piece of obnoxious red paper
would remain dry.
This colossal stain would wreak a reminder that
these islands are shared by all.
Then I would jump on every marauder
and knock them down, cut their height in
half or eighths if need be.
Their point of view altered like that of an errant child
left out after dark without supervision,
forced to see from a new angle.
I would then bark a loud critique about the ramifications
of deafness inflicted on beings of a lesser god.
Crazed by their ignorance, I might resort to
property damage leaving traces of my angst as a
sign to future canine, inciting them to rethink the
outdated notion of a man’s best friend.

New Years Eve Folly

Predawn
my favorite time of day
a time
where stillness reigns.
No firecrackers, no rockets,
or pinwheel brilliant bursts.
The party people have retreated
gone back into their caves to rest
and stock up on ammunition.
Thousands of firecrackers still silent are strung across
countless streets hanging from makeshift
welded metal and boards, haphazardly constructed
by retired policemen and accountants
who later rush to Longs to purchase last minute fire starters
and sparklers to light that first strand.
Then the smoke will come
inundating the asthmatics
forcing them to retreat into
theaters to watch the latest
release on high definition screens
with Dolby enhanced sound
drowning out the noise of the celebration.
The endless cacophony of doom forced
upon us by the revelers intent on blowing up
their small portion of the island.
An island strategically located in the
Pacific Ocean sheltering for the moment
a President and his family,
who sit on the sidelines
and pay to observe.

New Year’s Eve-Ku

Twilight detonates,
mountainous red paper ash
congregates at curb.

Bombs pierce air space
hunting in reckless pursuit,
for a vacant sky.

Canines claw through screens
in an agitated state
howl at their owners.

New Year’s fireworks
doped up dogs circle back yard
glazed eyes reflect fear.

New Year’s rockets breach,
Hawaiian aloha spirit
discards scarred excess.