Tagged: john ashberry

Poem: Poet Philosopher

Let this be my manifesto to be tacked upon cathedrals and posted on digital walls where everyone in the world goes to look at what isn’t happening to them. It has thusly been decreed that He is I and I is He – another way to say that I is We, and He and You...

Poem: Scandal

IN MEMORY OF EUGENE KONIK, born February 27, 1936. R.I.P.   And although I don’t share your candid misanthropy I understand and I am sorry. Father who left us all too soon I understand and I am sorry. Our species, the one you claimed to despise, having peered inside yourself and all around the carousel, having...

Poem: Ochocinco

A contrite Chad Johnson apologized for showing disrespect to a judge, a white lady in Florida. The former NFL star best known for a peculiar and unknowable fetish with his own number had slapped his attorney on the ass in court, just as he had slapped countless male asses before in end zones and sideline...

Poem: The Tree Regarding Himself

If there is nothing so lovely as a tree, what, in idle moments,  Does a tree gaze upon for pleasure?  The bird, yellow and daft?  The squirrel, dancing from trunk to branch, a ballerina on the bark?   Modesty, Mommy Nature says, is our greatest virtue. Recognize how small and insignificant your roots and branches and...

Poem: On Being a Bolivian Monkey

Rain that slickens the sturdy palm,  fruits that aren’t yet ripe,  Harpy eagles intent on digging talons and razor beak into  simian livers — these are the concerns of a brown capucin, dancing in the canopy, high above the mud of Pachamama, who bequeathed the trees and  everything else  to those who dare to climb ...

Poem: Target

To not be the object of scorn, Ensuring that like the wren flitting from branch to bush one never stays still enough To be hit squarely Where it hurts forever. That, of all things, is the vaunted ideal Professed in halls of academia and glossy sheaves of luridly illustrated imagery. Experience tells us so. But...

Poem: Measuring

A cup of solace, blended nicely with a pint of remorse  Stirred together with a whisk made of weathered telephone poles Like the ones we saw as children, driving across the Great Plains In the back of a too-small car — never wondering if we were there yet because the counting and the waiting and...

Poem: Much Ado

Should the gratuity be fifteen or twenty per cent? And does the fixation on such matters say something Deeply troubling About the man who would care to cogitate The difference in dollars, paper money, symbolic trinkets — when, in a hospital and upon A battlefield, and in a classroom filled with yearning minds, and somewhere...

Poem: The Activist

Reserved for the privileged. Frustrated. Grass roots effort. Personal journey. Workshop. Access to resources. Conscious eating. Nurturing your nature. Community-based. Dialogue. Facilitating. I’m passionate about… This society. Holistic. Our own truth. Left behind. (You know, you know.) Access to information. Access. Healthy joyful life that radiates. Support our local Farmers. Businesses. Reframing. Impact. Wellness. Low...

Poem: Syllogism

If it is true what they say Then surely this must follow Like a trained dog lurking at the heel of his master. You, who take offense at the vagaries of language, the cracks and crevasses where imprecision allows victims of low self-esteem to imagine offenses that were never intended Nor existed — You, you...