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Hidden
In response to “Stoic” by Ralph Heather So much unseen amongst your green leaves. In your proud boughs you gather all the creatures that I see with my ears: Squirrels crunch nuts; Blue jays squaw and screech; Chickadees chime in; Cicadas preach; Interrupting the blackbird’s speech. Leaves sway, And they give away the spot where you play A tree is a house, an umbrella and a playground, interconnecting the lives that exist within and around. Ouch, a chestnut knocked upon my noggin! And, I know that if a tree branch crashes to the ground, it certainly makes a sound. Can you see the forest for the trees? Nicola Schneider (Aug./Sept. 2019) Someone Else’s Problem (Dec. 2018)
Our Earth weeps from the piles and the heaps, on the land and in the seas; Plastic mountains and plastic creeks. “It’s just one cup,” said everyone, each. But it all becomes whale sup. And he’s dead on the beach. Seagull is stuck, and not in the muck. The rings on those things, they strangle, at an unfortunate angle. There’s poop on the stoop; Branch attack, grocery sack, Plastic debris flutters in the breeze. Send it all to China! Nah, Let’s put it in space. Let it be free, Not right in our face. We are consuming like fire; A situation most dire. We can do better. We must. I’ll write a letter and I’ll cause a fuss! 
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BASED UPON POE
fear the witches with the spells evil spells! what a thrill of detriment their remedy so smells! how they, wrinkle, wrinkle, wrinkle, in the mighty flare of light! while guitars, that smoke and sprinkle all the questions that dream to giggle with a byzantine punchline: feeling fine, fine, fine, in a court of ironic time, to the insubordination that so foolishly fells from the spells, spells, spells, spells Spells, spells, spells- from the wiggling and the mingling of the spells. (Prompt from somewhere & sometime — walk a mile in another's feet: an exploration of rhythm and nonsense... based on Poe's, "the Bells") ODE TO POET SMURF With a quill and a harp, so witty and sharp. Heralding the crowd, So frighteningly, ferociously louder than loud. Reciting and revelling, the yelling is swelling. Composing for the masses, Truth Poetry he passes. A friend to all, always ahead of the ball. A foe for none, a prodigal son. Appreciating all, even what’s small. Grateful for goodness, mistaken for madness. An innate ability to create positivity. An opulent and radiant shiny bright light amongst dark and dull, dreary life. Realizing impossible is most certainly possible. A kind and creative word-crafting poet, ever so life-consumingly devoted. Finding inspiration in everyday happenings, wonder is found in your goings and comings. Better to laugh rather than cry. No one wants to be that dreary guy. On the sunny side of the street and on the light side of the moon, life is so sweet and he sings a joyful tune. The grass is always greener and we all should be dreamers. Tears become giggles. Be gone with those sniffles. Even dire times are ironically, satirically funny. Best get chummy with crumby. Lean into the curve. Don’t loose your nerve. Animated emotions, emoting, suddenly spewing forth, worth noting. Fountains of fundamental prattling about pedagogy and rhetoric rambling. Political attitudes protrude in utmost rudity, assaulting senses beautifully. Trying to survive in trying times means you’ve got to cross some lines. Scrupulous stanzas simplify frenzied fixations, sordid and complicated dramatic fictions. Political parties, not even pretending to reign in their extravagant spending, or to be guardian angels for folks who vote -- Clumsy folks, putting all hope in hope (and poetry). |
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O POETRY
I'd love to sit and write all day In fact, I would if I had my way! I'd write me some poems that rhyme But only sometimes; not all the time. An alphabet poem or an acrostic Ballad or blank verse, so dramatic Like an elegy, epic or epitaph Full of fancy flight, a tone that's bright and light Cinquains, centos or poems of chance, Clerihew, Haiku, Madrigal, fable or fairy-tale Nonsense verse, hardly terse Iambic, psalm, abstract or realistic, Accent here, no stress it there! Alliteration, allusion, or assonance, caesura, consonance, enjambment Metaphor, apostrophe, O Poetry! Hyperbole, irony – ironic Onomatopoeia, oxymoron, Personification and pun; Poetry is so much fun! I’m so punny Simile, meter Beat Feet Couplet, lyric Light verse, limerick Ode, tankan. Connate connotation Denote denotation Figurative Literal-ly, it's a parody Or maybe an Allegory O Poetry, I feel so free. And that, just there, apostrophe. I may say what I mean, or I may let you guess, You might even think my point I did miss. I might become an animal or another type of beast A different type of person – other than myself, at least. On the shelves, in the library, you may one day see, The Great Anthology, written by me. |
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hot hot heat
we leave the artificial arctic step outside into infinite inferno slam into a brick wall of despair fermenting sweat cesspool -- tastes electric hints of sizzling skunk carcass festering on high noon asphalt -- breaks my heart leaves wilt and blades turn brown and people wilt and brown and grump a trillion cicadas buzz and sprinklers spray pointlessly relentlessly as we bide our time until the cold cold chill Patterns on Repeat You all huffy puffy Me all tighty fighty Both deaf need a ref to de-rev Me all bluey stewy You all grumpy trumpy Both blind cannot find the same mind Both fucky lucky all mucky stucky in this droopy loopy together Daddy professor sonny successor Mommy dearest daughter nearest aggressive oppressive defensive impressive explosive redemptive Love Battle by the Creek red squirrel defends domain on offense now a chase ensues can’t be that bad nuthatches laugh woodpeckers go about their day knocking all the way here life goes on robin announces spring dark eyed and grey juncos peeping in the shadows of the earth squirrels galore, gathering and laughing chittering cardinal love is in the air red croons to his lady she joins him a fine pair crow butts in turkey vulture circles joined by a kettle looking to kill causing chaotic scattering mourning dove laments we can never be who we were before and still we laugh because everything always is until it isn’t |
Spencer Creek Trilogy1. Forest Music
2. In the Key of Creek
3. Awestruck By the Creek (A song for dissonant times)
Battle by the creek: Red squirrel defends domain. On offence now, a chase ensues. It can’t be that bad -- nuthatches laugh. Woodpeckers go about their day, knocking all the way. Crow butts in, causing chaotic scattering. Turkey vulture circles, joined by a kettle looking to kill. Here, life goes on. Robin announces it’s Spring. Dark eyed and grey Juncos peeping in the shadows of the earth. Squirrels galore, gathering and chittering. Laughing. Cardinal love is in the air. Red croons to his love. She joins him — a fine pair! Mourning dove laments — We can never be who we were before. Doggy days indeed. And still -- We laugh. |
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All material is property of Nicola Schneider.
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