Today’s poem was my inspired poetic response to David’s “Sijo”, ‘Of all things, or: Bridge to nowhere’. >> https://skepticskaddish.com/2025/03/28/of-all-things-or-bridge-to-nowhere/ Over at Weekly Prompts, since it’s the last weekend of the month, “One Day” is again the monthly Prompt! To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here
One Day, or:Bless My Soul
Beneath our feet, there lies a common mound Between our ears, the winds of time hear no sound Below our eyes, the promised land cannot be found Within our hearts, we share the lost and drowned
Beyond our souls, the world’s burial grounds Belong to the hounds, who run the battlegrounds
I slyly lookup In silent amusement At the old chiseled face Of my Grandfather clock And I see his shaky hands of time Are too bleak and meek To strike the midday chime
I slowly close my eyes Overused muscles are cramping Weakened bones feel brittle This complicated mind is tired And my dream needs to sleep Before I can write another rhyme
Dear followers and friends of my poetry website; wishing you all, a happy and creative “WORLD POETRY DAY” … “Let the earth bear witness” – – William B Yeats (1916)
when I swim at the surf beach and dive deep down the eerie fullness of my silent surroundings enhances the volume of those submersed thoughts floating within my mind
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Wednesday Challenge is Ragged. Please visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here As you might gather from my poem, I am feeling very “ragged around the edges” … I have been hectically busy preparing for the ‘Clunes Booktown’ Festival this weekend …
Am I The Pilot?
What motivates me? To walk so many miles Despite the aches and pains
What compels me? To write every day Despite my crusty old brain
What drives me? Over life’s valleys and mountains Despite yesterday’s hard rain
Will I still be the pilot? Of tomorrow’s mystery flight Despite missing tonight’s plane
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Hungry Crows” (a Pantoum) is in this week’s edition. … To read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/hungry-crows/
Hungry Crows (a Pontoum); is my metaphorical interpretation of the ‘infamous’ White House meeting between President Zelensky and President Trump
A Pantoum, Poetry Format
Stanza 1: 4 lines, ABAB rhyme scheme
Stanza 2: Line 5 (repeat of line 2 in stanza 1) Line 6 (new line) Line 7 (repeat of line 4 in stanza 1) Line 8 (new line)
Stanza 3: Last Stanza (This is the format for the last stanza regardless of how many preceding stanzas exist): Line 9 (line 2 of the previous stanza) Line 10 (line 3 of the first stanza) Line 11 (line 4 of the previous stanza) Line 12 (line 1 of the first stanza)
“My Back Pages” Lyrics by Bob Dylan
Crimson flames tied through my ears Rollin’ high and mighty traps Pounced with fire on flaming roads Using ideas as my maps “We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I Proud ‘neath heated brow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth “Rip down all hate,” I screamed Lies that life is black and white Spoke from my skull, I dreamed Romantic facts of musketeers Foundationed deep, somehow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Girls’ faces formed the forward path From phony jealousy To memorizing politics Of ancient history Flung down by corpse evangelists Unthought of, though, somehow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
A self-ordained professor’s tongue Too serious to fool Spouted out that liberty Is just equality in school “Equality,” I spoke their word As if a wedding vow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand At the mongrel dogs who teach Fearing not I’d become my enemy In the instant that I preach My existence led by confusion boats Mutiny from stern to bow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats Too noble to neglect Deceived me into thinking I had something to protect Good and bad, I define these terms Quite clear, no doubt, somehow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
When you walk into my home You cannot help but notice That all the walls are adorned With photos and various pieces of memorabilia
And if you venture out the back door Into my verandah and courtyard area You cannot help but notice That the fence and walls are also covered With more pictures and Tullawalla scriptures
Today’s Throwback Friday poem was written in March 2022, and appears in my third book, “Until Eyes Hear Sound”, Chapter 1, Little Creatures and Birds, page 6
Innocent Millipedes
Please Mr Shootin’ Putin Do not roll your tanks of destruction Over the innocent Mr & Mrs Millipede Millipedes were the earliest animals to breathe air And make the move from water to land They date back 428 million years Now people of the world cannot hold back their tears
Did you know Mr Shootin’ Putin That Millipedes are fairly timid critters Docile decomposers that live in the leaf litter Of forests all over the world! They aren’t flashy or fast And they follow the motto “Slow and steady wins the race” Millipedes are peaceful They don’t bite They can’t sting And they don’t have pincers to fight back
Please Mr Shootin’ Putin Do not roll your tanks of destruction Over the innocence of creation
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 