#amusing
it is just past 2am, awaken on the couch,
S. has a bad cold, and I disembark at ports
of rooms far from the common bedroom,
to avoid the intense colors of the common cold,
tho peeking in on her throughout the day,
with popcorn sweet, popsicles, water, toasted
baguette with Belgian butter and strawberry
jam from our local farm, a summer residual
resident in our December citified refrigerator…
this delivery guy also provides the sectionals,
the Book Review, the Sunday Magazine,
and forehead warmth to the touch touches,
for though cold and old verbally ven intra~connect,
the reality is that they’re just enemies, adversaries,
and best keep and kept in separate room quartered
containers
in the dark, I write musings upon how a Cubist
paints a bouquet, how to truly see, wherein
lies the overlap of poetry, painting and photography,
each sense, trying two modalities to uncover, discover,
then
recover them, to envision and revision what the world
sets out to display upon a tabula rasa, and issues commands,
like observe, witness, explore, sensate, investigate or to
truly see the overlap of the human eye and the innate
mind’s eye, permitting us become the synthesizer of both
with our ever evolving given tools
in my posses, I think I've come to love certain items only after
accidental interaction & investigation led me to them;
items of color
(here i pause~stop, sleep is knocking)
three things of color do I so enjoy,
first came colored gems,
then came the flowers
for sale at my corner bodega,
lastly and most recent, I’ve
started to mentally catalogue
the shadings of the human skin
Dec 14, 2025
Dec 14, 2025 at 6:26 PM UTC
In the heart of the kitchen,
where pots clatter and steam whispers,
there lies a tale of humble beginnings,
a saga of peas and ham,
a symphony of flavours,
a dance of the mundane and the marvellous.
Oh, Pea and Ham Soup,
you are the unsung hero of the pantry,
the green knight in a ceramic bowl,
the warm embrace on a cold, dreary day.
Once upon a time,
in a land of bubbling broths,
a lonely pea dreamed of greatness,
of joining forces with the mighty ham,
to create a potion of comfort,
a brew of bliss.
The peas, so green and round,
rolled into the *** with a plop,
like tiny emeralds diving into a sea of broth,
their destiny intertwined with the smoky ham,
a partnership forged in the cauldron of culinary magic.
The ham, oh the ham,
with its rich, savoury whispers,
joined the peas with a sizzle, a pop, and a bang,
bringing tales of smoky adventures,
of hickory forests and salty seas.
Together they simmered,
in a slow waltz of flavours,
the peas softening,
the ham infusing,
a marriage of textures,
a union of taste.
Garlic and onions,
the mischievous twins,
danced around the ***
adding their own flair,
a hint of mischief,
a touch of zest.
Carrots and celery,
the reliable companions,
joined the fray,
bringing crunch and colour,
a rainbow in the ***
a feast for the eyes.
The broth bubbled and gurgled,
like a storyteller weaving a yarn,
each bubble a chapter,
each gurgle a verse,
in the epic of Pea and Ham Soup.
And when the time was right,
the ladle dipped in,
bringing forth a spoonful of history,
a taste of tradition,
a sip of solace.
Oh, Pea and Ham Soup,
you are more than just a meal,
you are a memory,
a comfort,
a friend.
In the quiet of the kitchen,
as the last spoonful is savoured,
the tale of Pea and Ham Soup lingers,
a story told in flavours,
a poem written in broth.
Oct 8, 2024
Oct 8, 2024 at 5:56 AM UTC
It was January last Wednesday,
When the moon turned bright green,
The stars danced a tango,
And the sun wore a sheen.
The clouds sang a lullaby,
To the mountains so high,
While the rivers played hopscotch,
With the fishes passing by.
The trees whispered secrets,
To the birds in the air,
And the flowers wore hats,
Made of chocolate eclairs.
The wind told a joke,
That made the rocks laugh,
And the grass did a jig,
On the giraffe’s behalf.
So if you see a rainbow,
On a snowy summer’s day,
Just remember this tale,
Of January last Wednesday.
Sep 9, 2024
Sep 9, 2024 at 1:30 PM UTC
There once was a mosquito named Jack,
Who bit in the small of my back.
I scratched and I swore,
As she flew out the door,
Leaving me with an itchy attack!
****** Mosquitos – Literally
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 11:18 AM UTC
Big Sis was living in France,
Where she learned how to cook and to dance.
With a baguette in hand,
She felt life was grand,
And she twirled in a joyful trance!
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 11:16 AM UTC
My sister was washing her drive,
With soap and a hose, she’d strive.
But a splash from the spray,
Sent her hat far away,
And she laughed as she felt so alive!
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 11:12 AM UTC
You are the glass that I poured my heart and soul into
But oh,
you are much more fragile than glass
You are the bomb that I worked carefully to diffuse
But little did I know,
you just released tear gas
You are the salty stories that flow from my eyes
in the middle of the night
Stories of love, joy, and
despise
You are the burning anger I feel in my chest
The feeling pushed down and
repressed
You are so much of me
So how can I stand to lose you?
As we stand on ships drifting farther and farther apart on the open sea
The answer is as clear as the glass and as strong as the anger
I can’t stand to lose you
You’re the biggest part of me
Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 2:52 AM UTC
Each emination,
Hot as an inferno.
The breath I let escape
Burns before it boils,
Serpent, tongue coil.
The way you worked me;
Nailed the coffin, spread the soil.
Nov 3, 2023
Nov 3, 2023 at 12:21 PM UTC
Have we all become mere automata
guided by the ring of pings and notifs?
The spray of lather from a sea of data
carrying with it wrung celebrity whiffs
have stung us with a certain aphasia...
The written thought was a lifetime ago
long abandoned by the times and all--
where once there was soundness to follow
nonsense amassed like a rising cymbal
whose crash sent reason to the gallows.
The news of the day presents a delectable entree
of a hodgepodge of this, that, and nothing much.
Wherefore we find our tongues compelled to say
something about the aftertaste or to prejudge
as if we were connoisseurs--it must've hid faraway.
Are we perhaps amusing ourselves to death?
I am by no means a Luddite to such a degree,
but I believe we have bombarded and blessed
ourselves a little too much to see...
only time will tell us reason's final breath.
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 10:38 PM UTC
Who the **** and why.
The owner of the eye
Can answer my question,
Whoever it is that's watching;
Stop wasting your time
Aug 29, 2023
Aug 29, 2023 at 7:02 PM UTC
i mean it
i'm in it
i'm initiating intrusive
i'm bruising
amusing
you
you are
you mean
you are a dream
i mean it
i'm in it
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 4:54 PM UTC
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/5/2019
Sitting on the perch the rooster boasted:
soon the king of swimmers I'll be
and laurel wreath I will get:
Cos the champion of champions I am in this respect!
The hens, excited, clucked in admiration,
small yellow chicks silently listened in awe,
oinking happily were the piglets,
and the ducks? Like crazy they laughed!
Wieslaw Musialowski 10/15/2001
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 4:41 PM UTC
_Wit when overreached
Is neither as endearing nor amusing
As the antics of a court jester;
But it is infinitely more foolish._
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 10:03 PM UTC
What would I do without you.
You're always by my side.
Giving my life balance.
You open doors for me.
Point things out to me.
You're always right
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
and (then) left.
. . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . .
Kaydee
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 12:36 PM UTC
How many heroes have chosen this path,
Of least or no resistance?
In the face of overwhelming odds,
Or staring at cubicular, corporate submission;
Elect instead the stance
Of simply
Doing
Nothing?
Victorian ladies thought it amusing;
20th Century Centurions and Puritans condemned it.
The spoon-fed rich live it and lose nothing.
Russian aristocrats sometimes recommend it…
When spurned in love & up against it.
Oblomov, for instance, whiled his time away,
In bed, or staring out at the wood,
Writing meaningless letters and ignoring the day,
Yet it still did him some good.
Marat in his bathtub, Proust in his bed,
Still accomplished SOMETHING
Or we’d have forgotten them instead.
Is there still no virtue in doing nothing?
Against the tide of corporate work,
Aquarians rebelled with dance.
Later on, Generation X
Came to work in a greedy trance.
Peter Gibbons was hypnotized,
To escape his lifeless job,
Destroyed the office as it was downsized,
But was promoted by “the Bobs”.
Some lesson there, for those who strive,
That work alone is not enough.
Attitude is more important to our lives,
That revolt by nothingness is not that tough.
Abbie Hoffman was thrown through windows,
While preaching peace instead of wrath.
Despite nobility of cause, does humanity still go,
The inexorable way of sloth?
Sharon Talbot
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC
Lips refused to move.
So words turned into tears.
Eyes refused to open.
So tears turned into choke.
Heart skipped a new beat.
Scars refused to hide.
So feelings turned to muse.
Screams refused to be silenced.
So ideas shout out the mess.
Mind brought over new thoughts.
Life refused to give up.
So nights turned to days.
Soul asked to conquer.
So animation asked to move on.
Emptiness brought in a new fulfilment.
Heart awoke in the arms of satisfaction,
A new life struck into action,
Mind decided to stay on,
Finally fame gleamed into the eyes
of one who stayed away from all limelight.
So carry on said the lord watching,
Live on to live forever.
Stay above all that haunts you,
And past the unusual mess.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
My pet theory goes running in the yard.
with it's, “is this what it is or something else?”
And self imagined self imagining
another's imaginary me.
Questions of will this be as it should,
or as it will be?
Tips it's head to one side in confusion;
then raises a leg n' does a ***
My pet theory loves to go chasing cars.
With it's “is what ever we have what we deserve?”
Blaming the other for the others need
while praising the “I” over all others.
Questions of are all creeds ,species
and kin truly brothers?
Tears the bumper from car;
Runs of to place it with the others.
My pet thero.... Oh, it's just
gone and laid a nice big
steaming pile of pretence
on the kitchen floor.
I don't want this pet theory Any more!
© 2016 Greg
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
Being sick, isn't it lovely,
Sore, scratchy, throat,
Body feels like I'm stuck in a moat.
Boy I feel great more chicken soup please,
No... I want popsicle's, why am I hurting in my knees?
Please take care of me I say with doe eyes,
Who was the Knuckle Head who gave me this dripping surprise?
You? Husband? Oh...by me you will meet your demise.
But before that rub my back and get a new revise.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
A Poet
Has To Write
A Poetess
Has To Create
Poet = You
You IS ThePoetess
So EpicI
Am
HALLELUYAH
That I Know :)
You'll
Write
Wonderfull
Epic Sonnets
Jet -lag
Notebooks
And Nooks Mysterious
At The SilkenNoose
Neurotransmitting
Black and Red Ribbons
Around the +++Tulips
Taking Epic Tales
For Granted
Give Me Mythos !!!
My God
Mein Gott
Mio Dio
Mes Dios
Poetic
( Then )
I'll
Inquire
inquire
DEEP
At Illy's
Leaned On
Leaned on
My little left Elbow
Dreaming Vis a Vis and Elba
About The Harvest Moon
About My Maine ****
About My Golden Mine
About Thy Golden Mine
About The Architecture
of "Solid & Quality"
Ink
Where All Started And Why
There At The Starry Lit
Night Sky
Enamored
Non
armored
Palms Under
This Universal Tiny
Marble Skull
Givin' A
Primal Protection
To Primordial Operations
Evoking
HIGH
Sparks And Glitter
IDEALS
With Not Doin' Much
With Myself
Lying
Within
Listening
To The Symphony
Of Tender Waves
Kissing The Shore's
Sharp Fjordic Surface
Dying With Each
Momentum
A Bit Further
To The Future
Fulfilled
Yearning Away
Abstractrions
Abbrevations
And Breaths
And Beaches
And Bachus
And Bach
And Us
To Reach
Roerich's Perfection
And Sublimity
At Poets
**Raa
Realm**
For Immortal Infinity
For Immortal Infinity
To
Unveil Some Secret Codes
To Untangle The Solitude Days
To Love This Immence Psychic
Improbability
To Be Ego
Earnest
To Be(:
Give This Wings The Will
Let The Spirit Fly
Let Our Souls
Collide
And
Bounce
And
Build
And
Break
And
Roam
On The Right Organic Roads
**On The Write ******** Road**
Sporadically
Outbursting
Poets
Explosive
Intuition
Poets
Insightfully
Tranquill
Poets
Divinational
Emergency
Poets
White
Rebels
Tear Streamers
Self Haters
Dark _Matters
Jolly good Kiddos
Serious Endeavours
Volcano
Poetos
Peripathetos
Love dwellers
Celestial Movers
Energizers
Appetizers
Bitter lemons
Juicy Tourers
Turist Poets
Classic Cats
Rhyme Sprouts
Free Verse Trenders
Mixing Blossom Blenders
Heart Poets
And Poets of Heartwarm Writes
Epic Heroes Love Believers
And Belly Vowel Dancers
Phonem Seekers
Cadence Riders
Filthy Reachers
Archaic Attackers
Cosmic Trees
**Knowledge
Seeders**
!!! You !!!
Emerge
At Once
As Others
Hereon
Hello
Poetry
Do You Do ?
Thank You !
!!!
Fine
Structure
Capacity
Some Stamina
And Mastery Skills
As A Present Poetry Beacon
Shining Bright For All The Cunning Greenhorn+s
**A Cup Is Raised
!!! For All Of You !!!**
To Drink Up The Invisible
Potion Of Stunning Inspiration
And Some ****** Genofondic Insight
Insignia is
Incomprehensable
Ingenius IS
Each
Wonderous Write
Wonderful Writer
To Dig That
L'Art pur l'Art
Isn't there Per se
**L'Art is
Ars Poetica**
Is
A Marvellous
A Marvellous
Dreamy* Touch*
OF
Poetic Purrs
And Witty Whiskers
ABonus Poeticus
And A Rattle of Spiral Bones
And A Bottle of Rhyme
And
And
At The
EndsEnd
You'll
Have To
Work Till YoU
Drop
You'll
Have To
Let The Muse
See You Soulborne
Let me see You -> Naked
Light As An Eagle Feathers
Bereft
of
Every Emotional Baggage
Release Rumors And
Rumpaging Rage
Not Only And
Exclusively On
Rare Occasions
You Know What ?!
I'll Inspire Thy Insightfull-Ness
Loch Thy Leisure Lake Luckilly
Clean of Creamy Caleidoscopic
Conundrums
You
Wonder
Wonderful
Ponderish
POETẼSS
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC