Newest Quatrain Poems (302)

Last year expired to sounds of Auld Lang Syne,
The bells of Christmas past are heard no more,
A 'New Year Toast' is raised with mulled red wine,
Before December bills come through the door.

New resolutions made with fervent mind,
So sadly most are destined not to last,
And in such broken promises you'll find,
A mirrored image of a failed year passed .

Act kindly to a pauper on the street,
Is all your spare cash for the bargain sales ?
Give help to some old pensioner you meet,
Or will it be another of your fails ?

Though '21 it was a trying year,
We must dig deep...for coping skills to delve,
Farewell old year, I doubt we'll shed a tear,
I couldn't wait to hear the clock strike twelve.

I send you all good tidings with fine cheer,
Straight from the Em'rald Isle across the miles,
May all your Covid worries disappear,
And future frowns may all revert to smiles.

White and cold from the faraway land
You stand high and bold without end
The wind and the the sun come to touch your lovely peak
Eventhough they sometimes come in shriek


Oh... what beautiful mountain you are
You are not that far...
you always make us feel high
Eventhough we can not fly

The sakura trees are on your feet
They line where i usually meet my pete
And we walk together by the river bank
And watch your snowy peak while i am thinking about pete's money in the bank

In-person meetings suspended
Conference rooms closed to use
By keeping a 6-foot distance
everyone stays apart—not aloof.

Blues, folk, rock concerts rescheduled
Museums closed to showing art
Theatre not performed on stages
Citizens asked to do their part.

Flattening-the-curve approach required
But when our leaders fail to lead
people are driven to poor decisions
and takers feed upon their greed.

Shelves in stores stripped to empty
Essentials horded, stock-piled away
Preparing for the worst to come
Hoping to be spared anew each day.

Public schools closed until April
Red Sox Opening Day postponed
Weighing decisions to self-isolate
with every day to be spent alone.

Boston Marathon moved to September
Walk for Hunger canceled complete
Needs in air still hover, linger though
movement ceased beneath our feet.

With tents as makeshift hospital wards
first-come-first-served policy goes out the door
Triage decisions necessary to be made
disproportionally impact the poor.

Forego cavalier, casual attitudes
Avoid need for imminent, acute care
There are vulnerable people everywhere
Covid-19 travels through touch and air.

Individual freedom temporarily bartered
to provide better protection for everyone
Embrace physical-distancing as one way
war against this pandemic can be won.

© 2020-03-14

A thousand islands in the sea

I am an island, all on my own,
Eroded by the oceans foam,
God’s heaven temporarily on loan,
Like a grazing sheep, free to roam.

A thousand islands in the sea,
A plethora of souls isolated like me,
I am a chronicler of my times that’s been,
And some of these things my eyes have seen.

I find you in the mornings,
Like honey from the sun,
Rays shining through the blinds
Will fate today opt to be cruel or kind?

You whisper sweet reveries, of times you have seen,
And use subtle tricks to ascertain which way I will lean,
Insidious mind games, you plot to win,
Permutations of loss, loss through the wages of sin.

I am an island,
Destined to stand alone,
Aloof from the continent of fellow men,
But on the island is the ever moving scribe’s pen

So should you find me in the orchards in May,
And not having anything with my voice to say,
My words will be recorded in all its various stages,
As Bukowski said “Man’s soul or lack of it will be evident by what he can carve on a blank page”.

So sorry I was to see your pain,
Now things can’t be the same again,
So sorry was I to hear the news,
Fate is chosen, you do not choose.
So sorry to hear, a betting man will lose,
Men are betting, by praying in his pews,
So sorry to hear, if proved right you gain it all,
If you were wrong there is nowhere from which to fall.

So sorry to know Pascal’s Wager,
Its logical to bet even if insincere,
But there is a voice which may say,
Your insincerity will not gain you a place here.
If you bet and are proved right,
Happiness is the net gain,
If you bet and lose, you are no worse off,
So believe, even if you have to feign.

So sorry to hear the news,
You can bet and not lose,
But there is a sting in the tail,
If you are insincere you will fail.
So sorry to tell you,
God know public face and private mind,
There is only one way to get to heaven,
And that is by being and doing kind things. 23/03/19

“The argument that it is in one's own best interest to behave as if God exists, since the possibility of eternal punishment in hell outweighs any advantage in believing otherwise”. Blaise Pascal,

There is a state between happiness and sadness
That is a basic human emotion
It provides a relief from life's stresses
And stimulates a mode of deep reflection

To be happy all the time come what may
Is nothing other than a fallacy
So live your life as it unfolds each day
Be honest to yourself most sincerely

Face the good and bad with equanimity
Coping with the bad times may be tougher
Know that all things will pass eventually
And subsequently you will be stronger

I knew your silhouette and I can not stop thinking,
I learned to dream and I'm small the way I love you
you are indispensable even within what I do not think
You go beyond the deep and the intense.
I walked in your paths, I climbed your skin
I defeated who oppressed your love
cross the limits of your heart
there is nothing that makes me retreat.
Become mine, leave more than a few minutes inside of me
Stay away from what bothers your happiness
I knew your silhouette and not thinking
that dreaming of a way of life is the best thing I learned.
I love you

In your company,
I discovered a calm.
A sense of freedom,
Without any harm.

The starry skies
The moonlit night.
Oh, let's just sit back
And gaze this pleasant sight.

I take up my guitar;- full of blue promise,-
As I remember you;- how much I miss;-
To find a chord,- (a favorite of mine);-
And strum down soft and think of first love's bliss.

As I work my way across the blues scale,-
Notes caress the air in sound's subtle veil;-
(In what was just before a hollow box);-
And maybe in the next world love won't fail?

I'm not drinking tonight;- my head is clear;-
When desire is gone,- there's neither love nor fear,-
(I used to drink alone most ev'ry night);-
To dream the dream of you;- when you were near.

Well,- love is true,- and love there still remains,-
In ashes now;- burnt by an old flame;-
(Caress of blues;- that now softly turns to jazz);-
I tell myself that first love's cut can heal again.

Many loves have come and gone;- yet there are none;-
That set as true in night as first love's sun;-
None I remember were as true as ours;-
My heart transported,- as my hand doth strum.

If tears were left,- then maybe I could cry;-
And lose my disappointment to the sky;-
(As jazz turns to blues,- then softly back again);-
If for just one night, you would now with me lie.

Though over time your memory doth fade;-
It's all I have;- the memories we made;-
As each new chord hangs softly in the air;-
This I recall;- as each blue note is played.



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