Linda
Thursday, March 25, 2021
Saturday, March 20, 2021
Wednesday, March 17, 2021
Irish Dreams
Had I the light of the the sky,
I would weave it into your eyes.
Show the whites whiter, the green brighter,
Irish eyes to match the glow of the day.
Had I the warmth of the sun,
I would press it onto your heart.
Help it beat steady with great regard
For mankind in a friendly Irish way.
Had I the art of tongue,
I would lay great tales thereupon
Of history's old and laughter bold.
Let the Irish call you out to play!
© Imbler, 2018
Wednesday, March 10, 2021
Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi of Ariel Chart for publishing
my poem.
https://www.arielchart.com/2021/03/my-reactions-to-wm-shakespeare-as-puck.html
My Reactions To Wm. Shakespeare As The Puck Of All Time
and his public never even said thank you for his having saved Rome,
at least not while he was strutting and breathing.
Willie Shakes, you hobgoblin!
Linda, make a note to self to write a thank-you note for this past weekend’s party.
Picture here; Lady M walking along her lunatic, stony halls
as she sheds increasingly larger numbers of skin cells,
and those off-center pieces of her mind with every step.
Wills, you mischievous fairy!
Even back then you found a chance for mayhem and bedlam.
Picture here; the horror,
and tastelessness (no pun intended!) of Tamora’s final meal.
She, then dying, with the essence of her two sons on her breath.
Wild Willie, cannibalism? You’re such a jester.
And, I’ve never trusted anyone with insincere flattery that lay on their tongue.
Picture here; Juliet starry eyes (vb.) herself into the night from her balcony.
Romeo and Jules, the bones of their inauspicious love destiny
buried under Capulet’s golden stone.
Mr. Shakespeare, you imp, were you just (Puck)ing with us?
Because I never had to abuse myself to prove my love to anyone.
Picture here; Posthumus’s needless suffering,
he, needing to tone down the fire of his green-eyed dragon
while testing his true love’s true love.
Shakey, you are a real sprite, to set him up for such a game.
When passion slips into jealousy, all heck’s bound to break loose.
Tuesday, March 9, 2021
Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi for publishing my poem
in Ariel Chart.
Aberrations, Impersonators, and You, The Circumnavigator
An aberrant, bizarre day,
laid out in an odd, uncanny way.
In the morning,
robbed by menacing thugs,
those mad, elemental wrongdoers
who always proposed thunder.
Their violent appearance
should never have escaped your notice.
In the afternoon,
you caught the attention of a kind, cooing impersonator,
ploughing across a clay path
while insisting on clean feet.
In the future,
use your beforehand knowledge
to avoid joining those choosing to misunderstand,
and by yourself, judge how well the days burn.
Look inside, seek divine behavior.
Loosen the temporary holding switch
at the train yard’s edge,
controlling the momentary convergence of bright spots,
then follow a shiny spread of…..
pursue the bright snapshot of……
the detailed oscillation of your one lonely thought.
Hold that thought,
and you’ll actually stumble over belongings lost,
including that strange thing,
stored in the opposite cabinet of your psyche,
and you’ll be more thankful than you have ever been.
Monday, March 8, 2021
Thank you to Akshay Kumar Roy for publishing my poem
in Lipi Magazine.
My Castle In The Clouds
It all comes back to what we were taught as children.
As for me, that was to never diminish anyone.
This translates as:
Refuse bitterness for those
who bear wrath against you,
for no other reason than your soft-natured presence.
Refuse to join the bandwagons of false souls
who whisper their ridicule for your beliefs
into their palms.
Tears and fire are contrary strangers,
So:
Keep you banners hemmed and flying,
and dance upon the hills and sing upon the streets
along with those unseen gods.








