The truth whispers,
‘’a happy heart can’t discriminate
between a crow and a cuckoo’’
making me an example
as I’m quite happy
from top to bottom,
so unmindful to the conflict
between macro and micro
as all is well to my swelled generosity.
My mirror is happy
so blissful to reflect the same images
of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide.
My bed room is also happy
in making innocuous adjustment
among its ever-changing components-
authorized and unauthorized
or open and hidden
and dutiful always to cover
my demand up for extra-amusement.
My spiritual master withdraws happily
his imposed prohibitions
on my free movement
and leaves my free domain
saying,
‘’I’m truly needed to an unhappy only’’.
Pijush Kanti Deb is a new Indian poet with around 261 published or
accepted poems and haiku in around 90 nos of national and
international magazines and journals [,print and online] like Down in
the dirt, Tajmahal Review, Pennine Ink, Hollow Publishing, Creativica
Magazine, Muse India, Teeth Dream Magazine,Hermes Poetry Journal, Grey
Borders, Dagda Publishing, Blognostic Black Mirror Magazine,
Dissident Voice Journal , Indiana Voice Journal Aji Magazine Calliope
Magazine, Leaves of Ink Magazine and many more.
His best achievement so far is the publication of his first poetry
collection,’’Beneath The Shadow Of A White Pigeon’’published by Hollow
Publishing is available on AMAZON.
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
www.facebook.com/Artvilla.com
robin@artvilla.com
editor@artvilla.com
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
poetry
All Of That And More – Poem by Ron Olsen
All Of That And More
by Ron Olsen
Popped the top
Poured it slow
Against the side of the glass
Forming a perfect head of foam
Hitting my tongue
Tasting the past
Taking me back
To a slower time
In so many small towns
We knew them all
They were our youth
My big Pontiac
Nearly off the snow covered road
So many times
Driving blind
On instinct alone
And the grace of God
Seeing us through
To maybe get lucky
On a Saturday night
In the frozen north
Through the haze
We’re there again
An ancient bar
Salted peanuts and purple pickled eggs
In Lake Henry
St. Martin
New Munich
A few others
Names forgotten in the fog
All the same
A big Catholic church
A John Deere dealer
A beer hall
And a house or two
Pull another tap
The boys at the bar
Draining it dry
Telling lies
Laughing hard
Before the band stopped playing
And the sun came up
And the girls went home
And Izzy locked the door
I drain my glass dry
And the past dies again
A time we could understand
A time we could feel
Enough time, for you and me
To drink our fill
And maybe die behind the wheel
Or, if we were lucky
To cheat death one more time
Thinking we were so much more
Than we really were
Only we really were
All of that and more
©2015 Ron Olsen – all rights reserved
Los Angeles – A Poem By Ron Olsen
Los Angeles
by Ron Olsen
She sucks you in
With glamour
Gold
And glitz
With whispers of wealth and fame
They answer by the thousands
Overachievers
Approval seekers
Ladder climbers
Feeling a need
To be somebody
Or at least try
I arrived
Turning right
Off the ribbon of light
Feeling less than connected
Flying off the Hollywood Freeway
Down onto the land of moving earth
Disconnected from the soil
No longer weighed down by the gravity of the East
The heaviness of well-considered thought
Floating somewhere above the sandy soil of the Valley
Without any need to think about why
Never mind
That’s just the way things are
Here on the edge of the ring of fire
With too little rain
Only the hot Santa Ana’s refrain
To remind you of weather’s call
That with the sameness
Sometimes it’s there at all
L.A. doesn’t welcome you
She dares you to stay
If you can handle
The lack of connectivity
As the ground shifts beneath your feet
And your thoughts float away
A social register replete
With no one to meet
For any real reason
Other than seeing and being seen
For the full and meritorious value
Of maybe getting someone famous
To give you the time of day
Or perhaps gain fame yourself
If you’re tough enough
Smart enough
Strong enough
To hang on
To keep from flying off into space
As the ring of fire shifts once more
©2015 Ron Olsen – all rights reserved
Poem – “One True Belief” by Ron Olsen
One True Belief
by Ron Olsen
You
Me
Us
Our struggle is meaningless
For those who truly believe
In their one version of the truth
The New Testament’s revenge
A pipeline’s purpose
Fuels a climate change denier’s anger
Crying out for more and not less
Of that which hastens our demise
As they wait for evil to blanket the world
They know it’s sure to happen
It’s a certain thing
For those who truly believe
In their one version of the truth
For centuries running
They have seen the end coming
It’s just over there
Almost in sight now
With absolute certainty
That they are right
Once again
Even though they’ve been wrong before
Every time
Time and again
And then time again
They’ve even set dates
Only to be wrong
And still they believe
In myth over metaphor
Interpretation over fact
Having more impact
On government and culture
Than any of us knows
Creating the certainty
That only self-fulfilling prophecy
Can deliver to the collective mindset
As the approach of Armageddon
Makes caring meaningless
To those who truly believe
Making us
Irrelevant
Our struggle childish futility
In their eyes
Even while we hold the keys to salvation
For those who dare admit
That we might succeed
At pulling ourselves from the fire
For those with the courage to believe
That we might not be irrelevant after all
That we might be our only best hope
Even as God whispers in the ear
Of some enlightened fool
Who, after a pint of his favorite brew
Sets yet another date
For the rest of us to burn in hell
And demands that his local congressman
Must do the same
© 2015 Ron Olsen/all rights reserved
Ron Olsen is a Los Angeles based writer. More of his poetry can be found here.
Poem: The Great Obliviators by Ron Olsen
The Great Obliviators
by Ron Olsen
Stuck in Afghanistan
Without an exit plan
While drones fly
Where no soldiers need go
All this after
Vietnam
Iraq
Pakistan
And now Syria, too
We were warned this would happen
The glorification of war
Never-ending militarism
Not to be questioned
Or risk being accused of being less than American
Ike told us it was coming
Back in 61
The “rise of misplaced power” he said
The Military Industrial Complex
Now it’s here
Eisenhower, knew war
Those who now make war do not
But they are locked in
Not about to let go
As imperial America
Bites down
On the world
A pit bull in every yard
An urban assault vehicle in every garage
A gun in every drawer
Pepper spray in every purse
To fend off neighbors
Against the oncoming imagined apocalypse
ISIS beheadings
Plastic sheeting to cover your windows and doors
Smallpox in the mail
Sarin in the subways
Hijackers on our planes
The necessary threat
Without it, there is no fear
And without fear, no motivation
Without motivation
No public funding
Keeping the prophets of fear
In power
Cash fat sociopaths
Caring only for themselves
Gutting the middle class
Keeping the nation at war
To satisfy the greed
Of those whose greed knows no satisfaction
Only the need for more
© 2015 Ron Olsen – all rights reserved
