"bemusedly ruminating"

Forget
the balm of barometric exuberance.
This night
no longer young, dissipates.

Recall
the dewy welcome of sun-quaffed green.
Yesterdays
revive severed umbilical dreams.

Peruse
the present with fleeting acumen.
Today
ceases yet emerges again tomorrow.

Ignite
the kindling of autumnal reticence.
Perhaps
genial kindnesses shall spring.

.

Rewriting Memory

I’ve said it many times, over, and over again
Guilt is a needless load to carry forever
The solution comes in asking for forgiveness
Or you else can’t go on happily with new endeavors

And though it’s all in the past you never forget
Understanding that there are life lesson which never end
You must also learn why and how to forgive yourself
To heal and move forward when making amends

Amidst amber warming glow,
And kiss of breath upon my cheeks.
Calmness comes to take a pew,
Fights chaos, in the peace it seeks.

Butterscotch yellow, on vibrant green,
Cutest daisies dot imperfect lawn.
Despite the dandelion weeds,
Drawing societal scorn.

Yet the cockles of my heart,
Stirred by bird song's melodic grace.
Don't compare to amber orb,
Warmly smiling upon my space.

"show you"

Seasons are a fractal,
repeating the same geometry
in ice as it does in leaf.

To 'show' the fall is
to witness collapse;

I would rather you feel
the centre of gravity—
the stillness in the marrow

that knows descent is coming
but does not flinch.

.

I was born in a village already screaming.
Where gunfire spat dust into mouths of children.
They said don’t come back to school—
as if knowledge itself had been shot in the chest
and buried behind blackboards.

On the way from school, our last day there
A helicopter flew in the air above us,
spreading papers. I gathered them like fallen feathers,
Although illiterate in the grammar of bullets.

Rewriting Memory

Blink…I blinked slowly and the years went by
faster than anything I could have imagined
Reminiscing about those old wistful days
envisioning the now and how it happened

In dash a lot of memories come back
like a bright flash of lightning lighting the road
Every synapse and neuron quickly firing
triggering minute details hidden in code

Any relationship between
the following poem and living persons -
namely the writer of these words
ranks as purely coincidental and fictitious
crafted about fifteen months ago
and reposted again
today April 26th, 2026
once again shackled
and linkedin to feeling
absolute zero impetus
nevertheless he suffers existential blight
covered head to toe
in black and blue bruises
linkedin wherein
yours truly (himself) did self flagellate,
less for religious reasons,
than cuz he felt contrite

It never rains in
Manhattan
During the
Spring
Yes I can do without the
Rain
I must say that I am
Enjoying the Good weather
That we are having every day
In Manhattan
The Central Park
Brings back to me
Good memories of child hood
That now is gone forever
Out of my mind
I am no longer a child
Anymore
I am an adult now
I live across from the
Central Park
In my small apartment
It is like a shoe box
24 hours a day I hear
The noise of traffic