"Climate Change Hastens Advances" another today's poem (satire trigger alerts)

Climate Change Hastens Advances

 

Cooperative militarizing of the arctic

is succeeding and proceeding apace -

brilliant human triumphs bloom there

 

Strategic landmasses for launching troops

universally to the Northern hemisphere

are a panacea of peace and security for all

 

Thawing of previously barren, icy lands -

a surprising windfall of convenient prospects

will manufacture positive versions of events

 

Peace missions and projectiles will be aimed

to enjoy shorter quicker courses and replies

when any hint of things going awry is suspected

 

Artic bases are ideal for quelling dissent

among ever-troublesome populaces

who keep eyes upon pasts not futures

 

Our leaders will now be able to wallow

and bask like fierce beasts in arctic sun

sure in their knowledge of global controls

 

As we replace with intense mobilized hope

the former weak-kneed namby-pamby ism                            

Our putsch of total combative desire will climax

 

in a diasporic aura of good feelings and warmth

like a woman relaxing and enjoying herself

and a man in pleasure before girding for battle

 

if each of us hews to its proper rung of the hierarchy

it will conduct us into a winning new world where

endless battles create endless spasms of delight

 

 

dawn after rain - today's poem

dawn after rain

watery thought pools

in thin reflective puddles  

mirror fox gray skies

the usual thing - another poem for today

the usual thing

 

daylight accompanies woodpecker noise through cracked-open windows clearly sharply across fields and meadows where horses later shake their manes against rising day

 

disintegrating selves position on ramparts sieging every particular of individual identity as wind rustles tall prairie grasses whistling slightly in passing

 

day deteriorates    human noise abides  aerial     highway

interference like radio static    it coping-saws time to fit

erstwhile pilgrim activity    amidst see-sawing snow falling

 

technically abandoned      left to rot       like a Studebaker in rain       rust and mildew and vegetation     whipsaw the proceedings       investing      wreck with abandon  

    

a    stage     five      disaster  area      freeforms     explosively         uneven         tottering      tragedies

of form        stop time fallen         hysteria      blooms

 

not       wish           glaring           vagrant         flagrant  indifferent              unnatural           weasel like            nothingnesses             drift         

'treble geezer' today's poem (each stanza a haiku)

treble geezer

 

though a physics whiz

Einstein wasn’t a ghastly

gentrified boxer

 

much like masterful  

gorillas glorifying

glitterati golf

 

proof in the pudding

was in the preparations

and ingredients

 

today's poem: "bean sandwich #9" (number 9, number 9)

bean sandwich #9

choice crusty bread

beans baked benevolently

we hanker for more

Today's poem "Is Jurgen's Lotion made in Muncie or Kokomo?"

 

Is Jurgen’s Lotion made in Muncie or Kokomo?

 

No, but car radios were in which one, along with

Mr Mustard but I know I am you are wrong about it

cornfields differ from Lebanon about the same as

 

Crawfordsville and that lotion which isn’t made

glider rockers on the Ohio as Tell shot arrows

up by Fort Wayne somewhere in  buses and RVs

 

with pioneer dudes riding around in horse carriages

with 19^th century watermelons grown down on sandhills

Hoosiers anything they put their mind mining coal to

 

is masterpiece basketball from the past strawberries

flat bottom land roads no traffic in any direction

lapsing into the engine noise ricocheted everywhere

 

train whistles blowing 500 miles once a milk bottle

yearly extenuating Benjamin Harrison and Jimmy Hoffa

Brazil on down to Bean Blossom and the WPA lakes

 

snow covering State Park card tournaments weekenders

on Mars Hill the topographic maps read themselves

a kind of stalking antique map in stifling humidity

 

in full effort sugar maple camps sap runs boil

100 miles of high school wind farms past the old bend

a thousand bats in rock jacket patches flying nights

today's poem - "Unclogging Stink Holes"

Unclogging Stink Holes

-all work is ennobling

 

With a pole I muck the sewage holes

as sound slurps sweetly in and out with my labor

I heave, sweat, grimace, and grunt

until suddenly a great onrush begins

sewage sucking out and releasing

to relieve itself down into the stink hole

 

My groaning, knee-weakening work slowly ended

I take my rest: smoke, nap, and croon

 

Although all today’s pressures have relaxed

tomorrow I must return for more reaming

with more rigorous churning actions

using the pole I clean after each messy use

to make it smooth and ready for plunging

 

It’s hard work, sure- but very rewarding

a boon to those leery of doing strenuous,

foul-smelling work alone in the dark –

I can do it to convenience my clientele

and it makes me glow with a guilty pleasure

as I work resolutely in desolate shadows