Quatrain Poems (303)

The vast night sky, my empty page,
In starlit words I sink,
Moon beams ignite my muse and sage,
And steep my thoughts in ink.

I gazed inside my heart to write,
Where flows a lifelong stream,
I dipped my pen in to the night,
And wrote a morning theme.

My poems they can be dark or bright,
As feelings I impart,
Conveying sorrow or delight,
But always from the heart.

Hear my advice, my poet friends,
In fantasy just roam,
Poetic vision never ends,
So dream and write a poem.

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”.

I was running in Majorca
at some indecent hour
when in the road
I came upon
the ghost of Chairman Mao

The acrylic shorted stalker
stopped me with a bow
I kneed him in the bollock zone
the ghost of Chairman Mao

He didn't take it kindly
a spectral sort of sour
then dropped me with a Kung Fu leap
the ghost of Chairman Mao

I hiked it down an alleyway
but with supernatural power
he relieved me of my running shorts
the ghost of Chairman Mao

So take it as a warning
as a warning take it now
its best to raise a platitude
if you meet the ghost of Chairman Mao

To exist, a living thing must be born
Whether animal, plant or some other
This marks the initial stage it builds on
And heralds its life that follows after

After its birth, there is the growth process
Which requires adequate nutrition
In this vital stage, there must be success
In order to attain maturation

A living thing in full maturity
Displays its species characteristics
These serve to define its identity
In testimony of its uniqueness

Living things are programmed internally
To keep their species continuation
To make this action a reality
They engage in acts of reproduction

Living things cannot live eternally
The process of decay cannot be stopped
Bodies that once were quite firm and healthy
With time they become shriveled and dried up

The action of decay is precursor
That signals the final stage which is death
For living organisms wherever
This occurs when they take their final breath

Invisible air links all living things
Whether animals, plants or some other
Throughout Nature, this message rings
Living things share the air with each other

Food and water that animals take in
And oxygen from the air they inhale
Provide energy after processing
And carbon dioxide which they exhale

From carbon dioxide, plants take carbon
And incorporate it in their structure
This is through photosynthesis action
Which releases oxygen thereafter

These actions are repeated endlessly
Asserting the link between living things
It's a glorious marvellous unity
And the magnificent song Nature sings

Mum what’s a Covid virus ?
My friends are all afraid,
We have to keep our distance,
And it’s so long since we played.

We need to meet so badly,
We’re just sick of being refused,
As we are only six years old,
And really quite confused.

So when can we return to school ?
To learn in our classroom,
To laugh and play together,
It’s not the same on zoom.

Why can’t we visit Granny ?
I’m told she can’t come here,
Each time we speak across the phone,
I hear her shed a tear.

I miss her hugs and stories,
That I’m her hearts beguile,
I remember well her countenance,
Though a mask conceals her smile.

I hope that she’s not lonely,
For that would make me cry,
And yet if we hugged Granny,
Does that mean she might die ?

I pray each night the vaccine works,
To cure the lock down pain,
And make the virus dissappear,
So we can play again.

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

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

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,

In Swat valley in Northern Pakistan
Malala, a young female teenager
Stood against the might of the Taliban
And earned the respect of those who knew her

She opposed their girls' education ban
And spread the issue all over the world
This enraged the terrorist Taliban
Who were determined to silence this girl

They sent an assassin to murder her
And he shot a bullet right through her head
But she proved to be a tough survivor
And became even more vocal instead

For her courage and heroic action
She earned the award of a Nobel prize
This defiant female from Pakistan
Became an idol in everyone's eyes