The Hearing of Judge Kavanaugh

Salacious allegations now may seize
and rip Scalia’s spirit as it falls.
Inside, bold lies may bend us to our knees 
and rattle glass that shake these hallowed halls.
Lead voices at the hearing speak of law 
yet minutes into speech, a sentence shrill: 
malodorous, her laugh; demonic scowl: 
Her urgency grows stronger as she howls.
She reads from Weiner’s laptop: “There’s no cheer
but tempered with behavior not so nice.”
There’s yearbook nonsense, ice cube fights and beer 
unlike her Bill exempt from all his vice. 
The witch corroborates her vision’s haul:
she is that evil come this morn to call.


The Spider Woman’s Waltz

Blue Moon
“The Spider Woman’s Waltz”

She dances in my head as in a dream
and raven are her eyes as onyx blown.
As Autumn steps into her bleaker scene
chill mist is in the air; cold-to-the-bone.

“Oh, waltz with me”, said she; “Our time is brief
and through the hills and valleys, dancing, go!
I’ll bind your webs of old, remembered grief
and in the quiet moonlight’s golden glow.”

The music of the spider woman’s waltz
reminds me of a heart once in your care.
Now wilted, waste-filled memories repulse.
Old love’s forgotten and my branches bare.

Was on a night like this her glancing gloom
did overtake my soul; my heart entomb.


We are All Immigrants

We all are immigrants from Africa.AmericaFlag

Your skin is white while mine has darker tone.

Yet, heart to heart, we’re all America

and with that hero’s pride, our flag is flown.

We all are immigrants from Africa

and celebrate a wondrous mix that glows

from coast to coast in our America.

Red, white and blue are colors that we know.

We are a nation honed with Freedom’s hand

for every soul that lands upon our shore.

Come, legally,  and there will be no ban:

the rule of law still reigns upon our land.

All citizens who care cause us to win.

A love of freedom binds us all as kin.



Life’s a Beach

Flamingo (2)“Life’s a Beach”
Hello, you hula-skirted palm tree’s sway.
I hear a ukulele’s wistful song.
It’s borne upon the breeze that floats my way
as shiny shells in water roll along.
The scent of seaweed and the cry of gull
beneath the yellow sun that glistens where
the rushing waves of water stir my soul.
My footprints find a soft reception there.
A dram of seaside air _a brew sublime_
a rippled shoreline I cannot resist.
A booming surf, my wanton friend, divine.
My heart is with your windy, sky-blown kiss.
Hello, my love of many youthful days.
Life’s still a beach so many blissful ways.

“Love is Blind on Such a Night”

“Love is Blind on Such a Night”
Was on a summer solstice such as this
when drunk with idleness, old Bottom napped.
Awakened then, his new reflection kissed
two donkey ears, a toothy grin, a sap!
“Hee haw!”_ a screech, as his reflection frowns
but through the eyes of love, Titania sees
our hero, Bottom, with a kingly crown.
So, love may tilt upon the bless`ed breeze
with lofty dreams and sprightly attitude.
Old Oberon’s pretensions give us flight
for all the fairy pleasures in a brew
as comedy of errors fill the night.
That love is blind is surely ecstasy:
old Shakespeare knew of love…and you and me.

“DaVinci’s ‘Mona Lisa'”

MonaIt’s all about her look; a placid guile.
We know her well; that enigmatic glance.
Suggestive are her lips; a warmth of style.
She teases us; her eyes a bit askance.
A reticence enhances lady’s charm.
Anticipation in his mind may leap.
Expectancy has power to disarm.
A popular diversion pastimes keep.
The world still favors subtlety of sex.
DaVinci must have known his buyer’s dream
when he took brush-in-hand.  His Mona’s hex
elusive as her curving lips now seem.
She hesitates, and most agree with me
Time’s still not taken all her mystery.

Botticelli’s ‘Allegory of Spring’

Botticelli’s ‘Allegory of Spring’botticelli-primavera
The painter’s brush gives voice to Greece and Rome:
Poliziano’s poems depict just how
the pagan, Venus, with her loving om
now stands with Cupid’s arrow over brow.
When Zephyrus germinates his girl with air
then gentle Flora has her flowered fling;
inseminates imaginings so fair
that airily her vines awake to spring.
Three graces waltz and turn in harmony
as past and present to the future bow.
As Botticelli paints, sublime and free,
our Mercury fragments the forming cloud.
“‘Humanitarian’, this Venus play”
or, thus, the Pope defines her in his day.

Berthe Morisot’s ‘The Cradle’

Berthe Morisot’s ‘The Cradle’”

Her baby girl; her sleeping child is here

and breathless mother watches as she dreams.

Her tiny mouth moves just to share the air;

in twinkling innocence, her young face beams.

An angel’s here; her sleeping star is near.

All nature listens for the slightest sound.

And all the world is silent just to hear

each moment of her beating heart resound.

Her precious daughter yawns and then she sleeps

and all the realm of nature cannot best

this miracle.  She slumbers as she peeps

with mother’s gentle sway, her babe’s at rest.

Outshines the stars, this being full of grace

as mother rocks her cradle mid the lace.A Baby




“Aubade” Red Poppies

Bright dawn, aglow with rosy blush-ablaze
appears our dainty bride; a powdered fey.
She blows a fairy dewdrop stormy maze
that plays o’er misty flowers blissful sway.
This sparkling day sends light to kiss the face
of groom who grows beneath the shadows low.
She blooms a brilliant hue; a purple grace
as beds of violets bewitch her beau.
The moon has slipped away beyond the night
as early beams entrance her wedding guests.
They turn their heads to greet the waltzing light
adorns the periwinkle’s silken vest.
Triumphant, golden march, as morning breaks.
A mystical reunion re-awakes.

An AUBADE is a morning love song or poem about lovers separating at dawn.  Also defined as “a song evoking daybreak”.

Birth of a Hurricane


It’s steamy in the southern Keys tonight.
Her air is thick. She tastes of salty fog.
A quiet’s fallen with no birds in sight.
Her ocean swells; she’s pregnant with resolve.

Her palms turn, twist and wave a hula skirt
fall quickly back as wind subsides beneath.
She hesitates; a flash begins to flirt;
as light’ning promises some stiffer teeth.

Expectant, gray light pushes down our beach:
a rising, higher tide begins to form
of something coming just before the breach.
A quieter wind wavers ‘fore the storm.

She’s here! She’s pushed a new-born screaming child;
she’s grown a full-blown wind to squall awhile !