Friday, April 29, 2016
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
The Scheme
The Scheme
----
Gone is the ear splitting quiet that did enthrall
And corrupted by
Angry voices on lifting breezes—
Deer in the woods loudly sneezes—
Jazz fusion from late sixties.
Country, exurbia, bows to suburban crawl
Offending my eye
With noises cities exude—
Electrical hum so rude—
Famished fauna search for food.
Embrace power outage; the forced silence it brings
Appreciate those
Whispers floating down the street—
Bird glides at a bite to eat—
Rocking chair with tea and treat.
Generator spits and interrupts everything
Salutes life we chose
Light pollution pours like rain—
Fidgety squirrel bolts insane—
Lost the life I sought to gain.
My future’s unwritten, and when I sleep, I dream
Of our conveniences bowing to nature’s scheme.
By Rick Bylina
4/27/16
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Give Me Chocolate or Leave Me Be
Give Me Chocolate or Leave me be
------
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah
blah-blah.
So goes the day without the energy—
To write great words to inspire mankind,
Or wash dishes so cockroaches don’t roam,
Do laundry or crawl naked like a sloth,
Or do the chores on a day that’s sunny
Till the earth, pull the weeds, and plant the
seeds.
Oh yeah, chop down some trees to heat my home.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah
blah-blah.
My good wife likes to list chores aplenty,
Advises often with words that remind,
“When you go shopping, buy me a blue comb.
And then skim the fat off the chicken broth.
Mail my friends. Drop that Facebook enemy.”
Her list of wants far exceeds my needs.
By Rick Bylina
4/26/16
Monday, April 25, 2016
Seasonal Evolution
Seasonal Evolution
------------
As tax day ends, nature sends exhausted
hummingbirds?
I hear, not see, their quick fly by as they shout,
“It’s Spring.”
Helicopter outside my window—smile so absurd,
Never have I heard them sing, but hum an unknown
song.
They shoo dull Juncos to arboreal summer forests.
Smartly away from southern heat to breed and to
rest.
Vibrant Grosbeak flits to his cooler mountain
retreat.
My alarm clock now is the Cardinals’ harsh morning
tweet.
Oh my Carolina Wren with scolding voice so loud
And tiny Blackcap Chickadee standing bold and
proud
Will you drive me into debt with your big
appetite?
Why don’t you harvest more bugs at the edge of the
night?
Shrill tweets, love songs, and territorial
squabbling
My southern birds are here to stay; this much
shall endure.
And despite the Blue Jay’s metallic ting-ting,
ting-ting
Morning’s sweet cacophony, rings outside my screen
door.
By Rick Bylina
4/25/16
Sunday, April 24, 2016
My Grandson Alex
My Grandson Alex
Jumping and leaping
Crawling and creeping
Bounding and wriggling
Bouncing and jiggling
Skipping and hopping
Jumping and bopping
Smiling and winking and dancing
around
Grinning and twisting, both feet
off the ground.
Laughing and giggling and yelling
and more
Climbing and falling kerbang to
the floor.
Rolling and turning and punching
and kicking
Throwing and catching and
dropping and picking.
Stepping and stomping and running
and racing
All the neighborhood pets he is
chasing.
Pushing, punching, bending, bucking,
always on the go
Calling, singing, shouting,
cheering, joy from head to toe.
My Grandson Alex is living proof
for all the world to see
Perpetual motion does exist,
especially when you are three.
Al Manning
Friday, April 22, 2016
I Thought I Saw a Snowflake
I Thought I Saw a Snowflake
-------------
You need to understand and know
That, yes, in April it can snow—
In Rochester and Buffalo
In Boone and Winston-Salem, too.
Earth rotates an Arctic vortex
Slips its mouth to lick old Tex-mex
Gets southern jet stream to relax
Throws us moisture from L-A-X.
By Rick Bylina
4/22/16
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