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The Poem (Pome) of Spring

A Desolate End

Malory's aunt condescended her excuses and banished her to her room. For present, Malory sits sullenly looking outside at the bright clouds, and despairs. The outside view provides no escape from her captivity. She sees her friends outside playing soccer, joyfully kicking the ballback and forth, across the field. She turns her back, she cannot stand looking, her confinement is two hours longer. In the heat of her emotions, Malory glances outside to see a hot air balloon, rising directly above the house. She thinks about what she'll do when she gets out. Will she shout thanks to the Heaven's? No, she never was very religious, even though her aunt had always had the famimly sit down after dinner and read psalms. Maybe she would just run. run. run. Run away from this place people considered her home. She wasn't at home ever since the Break she had stayed here, in this clad walled house, more of a prison really.
              After her escape she skirted the house and took off through the burned stubbles of the corn field. She had nearly been caught by her aunt who stood near the house waving a broom menacingly. Malory ran deep into the forest, pausing once to catch her breath, but then hearing the not so distant yells, running farther deeper into the woods, that choked her image from the house.
             The night was growing cold and the ground provided little comfort for a bed. No blankets, save for the leaves and dew drenched grasses. She was hungry. She was hungry for many days until the end.

Buffalo Bill's

Buffalo Bill's
defunct
      who used to
      ride a water-smooth silver
                                               stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
                                                                                 Jesus
he was a handsome man
                                       and what I want to know is
how do you like your blueyed boy
Mister Death?

-e.e. cummings

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A short sentence paints a black and white illustration.

Battle on the High Deserts

A lonely soldier stumbled through the desert. His parched throat held him silent. His shrunken stomach told of the last meal he'd had. He was camped near a massive boulder which provided some shade. That is for him and, "the boys", his fellow soldiers who had borne the suffering of heat and famished bellies with him. They had travelled many miles through this lonely dessert, with no sign of life, save for one chameleon. After dinner that night the boys decided their was certainly no substinence in chameleons. Sleeping in the heat of the desert sands proved a trifle uncomfortable; all the modern conveniences of home gone.
                            By morn the sun reflected off the shining sands, creating an explicable heat. But alas the poor heat-stricken soldiers stumbled on watching the sun skirt the hill and eddy upward. They were all beat.

A Yarn and the Skipper

A yarn and a skipper
went to sea
to see what was to be seen
the skipper was brave but the yarn rolled away
that curious yarn of the sea.

Falling into Winter

The leaves flutter in the
wind.
The wind bites my bare nose
and travels down my back
causing my hairs to stand on end.
Crickets are chirping
out their eulogies
in the graveyard.
The grass is dry
but its master, the earth,
is frigid.
A few lions piously poke their heads up from the grass,
they have little roar.

Farmer.Writer.Goodlife: A New Rhythm

Farmer.Writer.Goodlife: A New Rhythm: College started and I was afraid. It is a whole different world, a lot of friends I have made. All summer I hit the grindstone studious ...

Farmer.Writer.Goodlife: Natures Orchestra

Farmer.Writer.Goodlife: Natures Orchestra: The trees whisper in the wind their bark is healthy and brown'd The birds chirp in the trees their happy resound Nature plays its qu...

Canello

The gurgling highway twists and bends,
above a washerwomen shakes a tattered rug
out of the top window.
Customers scramble to get the winning lottery ticket, hopeful.
Hopeful for a new car, maybe a break from work or a new apartment.  

Chimneys rise above drifting black ash
staining the deep blue sky.
Puffs of cloud drift listlessly 
above.
A red cloaked hunchback 
hobbles through the vendors wares.

Labor on the Vegetable Farm

The zucchi's struggle through the fields
they pick the few
the zucchini harvest yields.

They endure the hottest heat
for in the field
black plastic they meet

Now they'll throw melons in the hot sun
watch you head
be attentive till we're done.

The melons are of the sweetest kind
on breaks the workers
they may dine.

Fiestas we have on weekends
old movies, food, and friends
all tired, its hard to stay up till the movie's end.

Natures Orchestra

The trees whisper in the wind
their bark is healthy and brown'd
The birds chirp in the trees
their happy resound.

Nature plays its quiet melody
Storms rumble in the west
like a snarling felidae.

A lightning bolt hits the ground,
barb wire snaps in two,
The Angus cattle run away.
They will not go through
The flames that lick the sky.

A New Rhythm

College started and I was afraid.
It is a whole different world,
a lot of friends I have made.
All summer I hit the grindstone
studious in my room all alone
Essay after essay
I struggled like dog with bone
two classes I passed with flying colors
however math I skewed
I hope next semester
that class I can elude.