for a would-be "poet laureate of the blogosphere"

To be a virtual poet laureate's no mere virtual honor
to be the emperor of ice cream is no mere dairy dream
if poetry's what one finds when losing one's way how's the runner
(turtle or hare) to pace her sprint? how strange our journeys seem



Responsive to Rachel Dacus's "hat in ring" post.

Mayur

The majestic peacock struts & preens
even though not sporting Levi jeans
don't tell me a winsome stride's unique
to pert sloe-eyed humans in their teens

Capacity

Is it an audacity to praise an audacity? perhaps
is it perspicacity to glimpse perspicacity? perhaps
this world is dubbed a mystery because it transcends comprehension
can we gain capacity to measure capacity? perhaps

A consideration

If ignorance is bliss
nigh nirvan is this button
it nils whatever is
it kills sans blood or cuttin'
you've neither need nor time
to waste on viewing this?
come click joy's paradigm
if ignorance is bliss

FarmVille

I remember how girls would play house
grown men today cultivate FarmVille
if a preferable addiction to sauce
in some suburb of do-no-harm-ville
with dramatics from Cecil B. DeMille
do they plow to the cadence of Straus?
everyone's gotta find a way to chill
I remember how girls would play house

a Tukaram verse (on words)

Words are the only jewels I've got
words are the only clothes I wear
verbal victuals sustain my lot
logos the sole largesse I share
quoth Tuka "behold the Word! God is He!
through words is his worship performed by me"


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[English tweaked & versified by yours truly, working from a version quoted here]

rubai occasioned by an intellectual exchange

The status of the river is never quo
the stillness of the cloud is a constant flow
that tale is best retold from start to end
whose gist (alas) is a thing I've yet to know

rubai from a Clarington Avenue seat

I sit at the foot of Clarington on a railroad track   & listen
from Highway 10 sounds an ocean of cars   slow April windshields glisten
long out of work am I out of luck?   a vernal breeze wafts delicate
the thing I've sought I have yet to find   ergo I have yet a mission

rubai responsive to a tweet

You can say that again (so to speak)
in Italian Chinese or Greek
what we find is an endless expanse
of unknowing the thing that we seek


responsive to @DAVID_LYNCH: "Sometimes it's difficult to put in words or even think what it is that we are all looking for."

The bug

The bug amid the experiment   am I  
as snug as a bug in a rug   (the saying goes)  
what need to breathe   a nigh-predestined sigh?  
like any surrendering bug   I twirl my toes  
& think things!   each conjecture (might I suppose?)  
marks a pawn's stroll   on a chessboard few descry  
planets swirl   a hidden stream (like clockwork) flows  
the bug amid the experiment   am I

[Poem occasioned by encountering an] Owl box

Movie starlets in a prior existence?
if such trans-species reality TV
continues beyond this owl-box instance
could a spy-cam nab Paramatma's wide sea?


======

inspired by Molly and Babies Color Camera

Not a sparrow falls

"I believe it! although it's insanity"
quoth a sparrow (who fell by the will of God)
how might such things go for humanity?
who may oft expel "by the will of God"
as an adage (held amid breath & thought
as its meanings meld luminous & fraught)
fraught with paradox (showing urbanity?)
"I believe it although it's insanity"