A Month of Haiga – February 2, 2016

Today I thought I’d look at

modern reality

The bike/walker’s path that goes from Arco to Torboli in the Trentino portion of Lake Garda passes along the river Sarca and goes through  Arco’s Industrial Zone.  The photograph was taken near the end of this past summer and is of the Dana Holding Corporation‘s factory which is one of about 8 small plants …


For the full post and haiga click this link:    A Month of Haiga – February 2, 2016

The Circus – Free Verse – December 5, 2015

dirtworshipingypsy: fortune teller. early 1870s

Fortune Teller, 1870s

The Circus

read your cards
o, fortune-teller
will the circus
for yet another year …

and she said

new excitement
new perception
wins the world with
brash deceptions
called virtual circuses
and video games

and then she sang

world of sadness
world of shame
hobbling with a Christmas cane
Circus poster
invites one and all
but no one comes.

© G.s.k. ‘15

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
…  write a poem of 60 words or less about Circuses …

In Reply “Can bards commit a greater crime” – Free Verse – October 17, 2014


Ah what gloomy times are these –
But are they worse than yesteryears?
Was woman ever seen with more respect?
Or was she hid behind veils and chastity belts –
And as they burnt her at the stake
Who’d have thought that ’twas a mistake?

Oh great men of ages – profiteers!
With holy titles and knightly gear …
As they saddled into the Holy Land
Did they still their steely blades?
Or did they raze whomever they met –
Knight or child – Christian or Mahometan.

Travelling throughout the world in time –
Enslaving – conquering – killing all …
These noble creatures of our past
Have left us, their children, quite aghast.

Though your words and feelings do you honor
And know I that ours are indeed times of shame –
Still might not a poet remind the world,
That the lilies still grow sweet and free,
Though they labor not for man – they thrive!
And, yes, that blackbirds still sing their lullabies
Disregarding the whims of miserable men
And these dark grim times.

(c) G.s.k. ’14

This was a spontaneous poem (so it’s rather rough around the edges) in response to a friend who wrote:

“Can bards commit a greater crime
than speak sweet words at such a time?”



Panem et Circensis – Three Word Wednesday on Thursday – August 14, 2014

TavernThe brave free thinkers of the world,
Wished to eradicate self-serving avarice
But the mercenary culture of the times
Refused to budge or to be swayed …
“This isn’t a battle for the squeamish”
The wise man loudly stated …
Consuming chips and hamburgers
At his favorite fast food restaurant …
The mighty plastic king of commerce
Played with his rubber ducky in his bath …
“I need to have more money …
To keep the world afloat”
He cried aloud piteously
Sending for his minions
Who set about producing
A new series of commercials
Thanking everyone for consuming …
As the poor looked outside the shop windows
Perplexed and sorely wondering
Why they were failures of the system,
The politician shouted:
“Eradicate these buggers!
These useless parasites
They’re ruining our economy
By not buying as they should!”
A flash of heat lightning shot through the air,
As the climate changed its course,
Creating tropical storms
In the middle of New York …
Les Baer and Lockheed Martin
Counted up their bloody profits
Whist prophesying their fear of revolution
In the great heart land of that desert …
The evening news brought glad tidings:
Of yet more rumors of war,
Of civil strife and disobedience,
Of rape and plunder,
Glorious religious revivals,
Murder in the school-yards …
(etcetera and etcetera …)
Whilst the people watched on in silence
Panem et circensus a complete success.

3wordwednesday banner


Eradicate, verb [with object:] Destroy completely; put an end to.

Mercenary, adjective: (Of a person or their behavior) primarily concerned with making money at the expense of ethics; noun: A professional soldier hired to serve in a foreign army; a person primarily concerned with material reward at the expense of ethics.

Squeamish, adjective: (Of a person) easily made to feel sick, faint, or disgusted, especially by unpleasant images, such as the sight of blood; (of a person) having strong moral views; scrupulous.

Don’t blame the sinner

Don’t blame the sinner.
If the saint went wrong,
Each one to his own
Final fantasies,
Of eternal life,
Of hell or paradise.
Born inside our heads,
Is private property.
Each one to his own
Wayward devices.
So what more can I say,
This and every day:
Don’t blame the sinner
If the saint went wrong.

Don’t blame the system
If your stuff breaks down.
That’s because it’s shoddy
Like everything else around.
Who’s to blame but us
We want everything for nil
And then we sit and moan
When nothing really works.
It’s a gyp-joint paradise,
With 5 minute goods,
That melts before your eyes,
In a polluting mound,
Filling up all our fields
Or burnt off in a pyre.
So what more can I say,
This and every day:
Don’t blame the sinner
If the saint went wrong.
Don’t blame the system
If your stuff breaks down.

I was wondering if there might be anyone who could add a verse to this little ditty?  If you’d like to have a go…just add your addition in the comments!

Opps…just discovered I was too late for the grid…better luck next week.  I’ll leave the badge up ’cause I did write this for them.

Everyone, have a nice day!