For Donald
I live a dull life
Behind the blinds
Peering out to see –
Is anyone trying
to get inside?
Watching all those neighbors
Coming and go
Wondering if the police
Are ever gonna show.
The crimes they’re committing
In my mind
Are the terrible most worse crimes
Of all time.
I need a big stick
To beat them all down.
Until I do, they’ll treat me
like some big orange clown.
Still
The explosion landed
In silence
Revealing exactly where he was wrong
And right
In one burst of time
Moment
Thought
Leaving him to sit with
details
Marker
The cracks show –
Spreading
He missed them
At first
Clocking them
Only after
Others
Commented.
He finds
Life emptying out
Contemplating
His time chasing
Time
Until time ran
Out of
Sight
Leaving him
With
All the time
Needed.
Giving him a
Smile –
Clues were
Forever
There
An unfelt
Hand
Pushing.
In Flight
A jet carves a white trail
Through a clear blue sky
Carrying people
Going home
For business
On vacation
To places unfamiliar
Visiting lands
They used to know
Others could be going back
For a death
A birth –
A love
Different destinations
Bodies
In a frame
Of space
In time
Captured
In a moment
Of gazing
Wishing –
Wondering
Standing
All alone
Breathe
sighing
reading
thinking
restless
my mind twists and seethes
trapped
with mindless energy
about how the world
has changed
worrying
speculating
drifting
I wonder
what will come to be
roaming through memories
of hopes
history
half-remembered
dreams
darkness
spreads
across the nation
troubles
rise
around
the world
I struggle
to find the shadows
or how
we
once were
now I find
I’m frankly
a little
out of breath
I need to go somewhere
quiet
and give my brain
a rest
A Poem For The Regime
Paul Vinent Cannon wrote a short poem, “Choices”. I find it perfect for these times and the TACO Regime. I attempted to reblog it but WordPress’s magic fizzled. So I have a link but also lifted the poem and posted it here.
An American Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2)
Choices
Silence
sometimes bidden
sometimes so moralised
well sometimes I just cannot be
silent.
Copyright 2025 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️
Hope you’ll visit his blog and enjoy more of his poems and observations. Cheers
Floofsy
Where is the fur
Where is the purr
Where is the regarding gaze
Maybe out in the sun
Somewhere having fun
Or resting in some shade
Then he arrives
Taking me by surprise
Leaping onto my lap
To tell his news
Through chirps and mews
It’s my buddy, my fur friend, my cat
The Usual Places
The usual places are empty
Our air is still
No soft noises are heard
None are there for a treat or a pill.
Toys are collected and put away
Wondering if they’ll be needed on another day.
Food bowls are cleaned, beds are washed,
Unopened food is given away,
The others are tossed.
Quiet shadows every motion and move
You think of memories
Which help and soothe.
But the faces remain, always there
In the empty space, an empty chair.
Ode to Papi
Trying to catch him is like reaching for sushine in the air
He’s so quick, elusive, it’s just not fair.
Passing us in a blaze of light,
He’s a wingless small animal lifting off in flight.
His burst of speed has no rhyme nor reason,
And seems independent of time and season.
Just as we keep wondering why and thinking where,
He comes back with a purr, his tail in the air.
Michael Seidel, writer 