it’s the annual who’s who of birds
and in most years the winner is clear
one trillion years straight the owl has won
with not a challenger in sight
but in this year’s who’s who
the show’s not at night
and you know who slept through the show
the winner this year is the owl of light
the morning dove takes home the dough
Tag: poetry
association potion
tails or heads?
heads have hair
hair covers skin
skin is an organ
organs have keys
keys open doors
doors slam shut
shut rhymes with tut
tut was a king
king trumps queen
queen was a band
bands have horns
horns protect rhinos
rhinos eat leaves
leaves change color
color needs light
light as a feather
feathers warm birds
birds have wings
wings played on USA
USA has borders
borders sold books
books teach people
people love dogs
dogs have tails
tails or heads?
sun soul
the soul of the sun is strong and bright
bear beautiful light
yield mighty delight
yet give to the night
spark passion and vigor
bring warmth to the heart
have infinite faces
but never an edge
and forever shine, always in sight
jumbalaya jam
potato chip forest dandelion greens
teriyaki chorus bumblebee dreams
avionic seasons sugar maple schemes
patriotic parties lucky laser beams
barnacle oatmeal arbitrary foam
paranoia pixies scintillating tome
cordless cabbage bark punctuating gnome
eighteen artichokes rummaging alone
mountains of magma
comets of kaboom
coronal mass ejections
blistering the moon
each knee animal
honest sonic knock
fared a fooling folly
sold a soaring stock
peanut butter caviar
watermelon whisk
java llama petting zoo
with a lemon twist
juniper jumping jack
super berry crayon
marigold maverick
jambalaya jam
ticks to tocks
how does a tick turn into a tock
forty-three thousand two hundred times a day?
does it know how to walk, talk, learn, laugh, and leap,
or does it only know not to stay?
is it the gears within, grinding with grit
or the pendulum’s beautiful sway?
is it the springs that are sprung, abruptly undone
that kick the seconds away?
is time just a thought, on the surface of naught
and the clock just a rhythmic display?
a heartless dimension, one of invention
no care for the world at bay
or is every tick that makes it to tock
a reminder that life if okay?
where’s tad?
where’s tad the toad?
i haven’t seen him in weeks
he left some food on the stove
and now his kitchen reeks
i checked all his logs
not a trace of dear tad
if he doesn’t turn up
no joy can be had
a call to miss lily
surely she’s seen tad
but she’s missing too
and empty is her pad
a stop at the school
where tad tends to study
no sign of the guy
where is my buddy?
a stroll by the farm
where lily likes to play
but empty is the place
minus eight bales of hay
last stop’s the swamp
where the two tend to roam
and what do you know
two toads in the loam
gumdrops
my pet alpaca likes gumdrops
especially the ones with lots of extra sugar crystals
and double extra especially the green ones
to him, the sound they make when they hit the floor
is like a parade of exuberance
amplified by the sense of nothing else matters
that gummy gel glistens bright on the dusty floor
like khufu at high noon
or the luxor on saturday night
his hooves take a spin and head lurches forward
as his trunk tries to keep up
his bubble gum tongue rolls out like tape
coated in anticipatory glue
his thick white fleece flows in the air
as he arrives and gobbles it up
wire talk
we send notes over wires all day
sometimes the notes dash through the air
and phew we can read them from our palm
our pockets buzz with new notes
sometimes the notes are from strangers
who want us to give them money for who knows what
remember the fax?
how magical that a note could teleport like that
it’s nice when we can send one note to many people
except for when we do it by accident
that video of cats falling off tables was not for you
i always sign my notes with my name or my initials
i dont even know why i sign the notes at all
the machine says they’re from me
it’s nice to be able to ignore notes when i want
although that feels weird
you wouldn’t do that in person
good nature
the wind whispers, and the meadows listen
the trees croak, and the stream glistens
songbirds play a tune, and the old man whistles fondly
the sun glares high while the shadows fade
tall grass waves at the hills
the buzz of cicadas cuts through the humid air
the woodpecker’s knock fades to a tap
the breeze turns chill
the sun simmers with violety glow
the trees breathe a sigh
the stars, a dim lit sky
night laid bare with no moon
rest well, good nature
parrot blabber
hello! please sorry my english
i’m a parrot of many few words
just simple ones to go by here now
are you give me your papaya?
please forgive my clumse
i also wobble a lot
i grew on ships as a tot, hello!
the seawaves still give me sick
ohh noo. what was i say?
please forgiven my words
i learned english from a seal
he taught many few words to me
and was much better good at art
so i beg this pardon for me now
do excuse my tongue, hello!
i’m a parrot of many few words
and i need your papaya to eat
kevin berardinelli 