Painting of Oblivion

The canvas is uniformly white.  
As a screen depicts nothingness
And there is immobility.
A red dot appears
When a mass of void moves
Into life in the form of a life
A beast or a man?
The mystery is no one knows.
Why this randomness occurs

The scent of the sonnet

I was watching a TV program about Hercules Poirot
the heroine in
the plot had no **** and wore an evening dress with aplomb….
Clearly, she had not sat on a carpet
in the forest of spring, where the animal of love roams it is
green as spring grass has a pink underbelly that looks like a purring
cat or a puppy that softly barks. It droplets of scents
that makes lovers enamored for a day or s
there is always a tomorrow of regrets for some.

If the woman with small **** happens to sit on a carpet in
the glade she will fall in love and pad her bra
and that is so why should she not enhance her lack of this
bagatelle when there are tringles of love in the air
and if this does not help, there is always divorce
a more lonely man is satisfied with a triangle

The forgotten
We forgot to buy a loaf today, but there is an apple **** in the fridge for breakfast tomorrow   we will feast on cake and think of the daft woman in France, whose name I have forgotten
Putin was offered a 30-day break from warring, and he gracefully thanked Trump for his interest and accepted the offer, but first, the underlying cause had to be negotiated
Trump was flattered; he didn’t get the whole loaf but had to accept a lemon cake, Putin and Lavrov are both masters in chess, and the West, who do not understand what Russia has said
No NATO in Ukraine quarantine Russia has had enough from the West’s false promises, that’s, but Zelensky, the fraud has to go, a new election held and a spring will arrive in Ukraine

A Lizard Sonnet

If you travel to escape the small lizard on your back
You will eventually be outside your parents’ house
Only they have long since go
Someone else lives there; perhaps a child sleeps in your bed
Dreaming your dreams
You walk down a street where you used to play
But no one knows, and the sense of loss overwhelms you
Swallow hard not to cry because your memory is untrue.
You left to get a small-minded town, poverty, and screams
In the night, but it was worth going back to remember what
An awful place you left.
I have a small lizard in the kitchen; I have tried
To **** it because it is grey and without redeeming colors that
Could make it into a pet, but it is too quick and hides in corners
I can't reach so it can live for now.

Refugees
I know of a forest where all trees are equally tall
and the distance between them is strangely wide
is so they can get the same amount of sun and
rain will fall evenly on plants and mossy ground.
Trees grow fast here  next year, harvested
and a new sling planted.
For the birds, rabbits, and foxes that had made
a home at what can be called a new estate will
have to move or find shelter in the old forest
that is full of thorny bushes in deep shadows and
and ****** boars that never had a bath unless
caught out in the rain
Nests will be too near others, and there will be squabbling
rabbits and foxes have to make new burrows
and they will be snubbed by the old dwellers who
will call them lazy or, even worse, the new rich should
They have shiny fur or colorful feathers and will
not be sent a Christmas card that year.

Syria’s new rulers
I’m going out to buy two onions, flowers for my wife, and a box of red wine for no one in particular; since I’m the only one in the house who drinks wine, I guess I have to drink it myself
The checkout woman looked like Assad’s wife
Which made me think of the thousands of prisoners in his dungeon; they have disappeared. There could not have been so many; after all, perhaps it was a hall lined with mirrors.
The Alawites, Druids, and Christians, not that are murdered by the thousands, many hides in the Russian base, not the newspapers say anything about, now that Brussel has blessed them

Strewn thoughts

Seven days of cloud bursts
Untold, loveless days
Only April showers are romantic
If not falling from a brow
Behind a white cloud, a sunny day
Spilt diesel on wet asphalt
Does not a rainbow make