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Perfect the apple’s trajectory

The sibilant sound of the ripe apple falling off the trees are amplified in the perfect stillness of our homestead at Anten:

Sweet apples in their ripe prime
nature’s rites elegant
Summer brings on its show time:
Hark, plunges eloquent!

When weighed down by their sap
apples’ tender stems snap

They drop in sound sibilant
flight path most fleetingly
in wind stirred up jubilant
by apple subtlety

Amidst silence distinctly
a falling apple’s thud
shall be echoed succinctly
even on grass or mud

Every Summer’s wondrous story
no event purely perchance
but of perfect trajectory
part of nature’s flawless dance

+)
-Anten = a small community by the lake with the same name near Alingsås

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Human sleaze being shook off like fleas

Horrid hearts beat unmanly
what we touch we deplete
Humans clamor inanely
each other we browbeat

Nature in overdue evolution
lashes back in rightful retribution

As humans act abhorrent
our misrule Earth contests
so with fierce fire & torrent
She cranks up her protests:

No longer upstaged!
With storms She howls
Ire flairs enraged
from Her bowels

Humans have turned Planet’s deadly disease
We’re getting shook off like, from a dog, fleas

 

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Movement fills every moment

Small boys & girls darting on bikes
untiringly they explore
in streets, trekking on backyard hikes
“Watch me! watch me!”, they implore

Hover their ‘hood tiny voices’
Each moment full of movement
in Summer’s endless play choices
Movement fills every moment

Fully one with the moment
Life’s ultimate bestowment

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A raw deal

When my spouse was enthusiastically on a raw food diet:

Dicing
mixing
fixing
whisking!

After peeling
with feeling
not done chopping
til dropping

Yes! resoundingly to: drying
No! abhorrently to: frying

Raised overhead her clenched paw
when serves another meal
Joyce to the world: “All go raw!”
She’s got you a raw deal!

+)
-go raw = here: a raw, i.e. uncooked diet

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Din of dim dinner

An exercise in civility?
No, we opt for instant reprieve
devolves in wordy futility
from ‘Holy’ takes decisive leave

Yield to that gut surging pull
again cheaply thrilling
to chomp beyond feeling full
of slumming in swilling?

In what lies the attraction
of gorging & natter
of shattering distraction
din of verbal clatter?

 

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Fulfillment finally

Been rotating with agility
while precisely ‘hanging in there’
in serviceable docility
next to gurgling porcelain chair

Squeezable white roll flowingly gowned
personality tightly bound
gradually becoming unwound:
Can’t handle one more flushing sound!

Then after no more sheets to be ripped
lost in predicament mirthless:
Tossed away naked to the core, stripped
abandoned, overlooked, worthless

But behold! By a tiny child found
the roll’s core now joyfully blown
Dreams of fulfillment finally crowned:
Roll reborn as gleaming trombone!

 

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My beloved wife, a.k.a. indoor racer

On winged feet our ‘indoor racer’
with wild hair flowing, flying
trajects like gun fireworks tracer
eternally she’s plying

Upwardly, leveling stairs
utensils clattering
all with efficiency’s airs
Bystanders scattering

Smoothly she slides round corners
‘smartphonely’ connected
Past cowering bench warmers
on short cuts perfected

+)
-bench warmers = among those her slacker husband

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Not much left to heft

Trashing the planet while we can
ain’t hardly plunder or theft!
With so little remaining, man
not very much left to heft!

No way, not just my opinion
it ain’t me, just take a look:
The Bible commands ‘dominion’
long since read such good a book

Prefer to float on own cloud nine
spouting TV show humor
insisting on rights which are mine
as consummate consumer!

+)
dominion = Psalms 8:6-8

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Beethoven’s 9th

Lifted beyond mind & heart distraught
Unshackled from self insignificant
Saved from lonely fear & scattered thought
Freed from mortal body recalcitrant

Passion’s waves crash on to eternity’s shore
from turmoil, anger & of guilt relieved
Briefly we rest in immortality’s core
not absolved, momentarily reprieved

While only the most clueless among nerds
dare describe Beethoven’s music with words …

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Day of atonement

Here with her cute Grandma looks
she’s a Jewish princess
when in her kitchen she cooks
up a pile of blintzes

Food to break the Yom Kippur fast
though we’ve been eating all day
but in these bright times who’s aghast?
We’re still ‘breaking the fast’, ok?

How we atone with others & G-d:
we’re all chomping, no one winces
Faith yes, but we must nourish the bod
Don’t be bashful: Pass the blintzes!