Thoughts~
It's just a golden oldie afternoon
A time to remember and review
The starlings and sparrows are playing hide and seek
Next to the In and Out bird bath 'neath the Mulberry
Footsteps from my past tip-toe in
As i revel in remembrance of the California Redwoods
Santa Monica Pier, and Muscle Beach
Just a childs snapshot of pure paradise
Where vacations usually always meant California;
Fast forwarding to this day
Wrapped in it's new September hues
Russet, copper, orange, and gold, soon to emerge
Bidding August a fond but much needed adieu
Saying good-bye to the sizzle that turned our land
Into burned layers of dried hay;
I have become infatuated with the new fragrances
My spirit lifts with a gentle abandon
Awake in the new progression of circumstances;
Pain visits me this day as she did yesterday
And serves as a reminder of my not so solid home;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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I Will Remember You (A Psalm)
Lion of the Senate-
Gladiator for all just cause-
Camelots last standing son-
A kind-hearted soul with few flaws;
You became a big part of me-
Long ago when i was very young-
Embracing your entire family-
Since Johns presidency had begun;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Can You Hear Me Lucinda?
I am yelling Lucinda...
Asking you to open up your ears--
For you have been deaf far too long--
For way too many years;
Theres so much that you've missed out on...
With those ears that have been closed...
Can you hear me Lucinda?
All of the rhyme, the reason, the prose? ;
And what of your eyes Lucinda?
How long are you going to just keep looking away?
The truth is staring you in the face, Lucinda...
All of the horrid of yesterday! ;
Is it all just too heart wrenching?
Too much for your broken heart to face?
Can you hear me now Lucinda?
Beyond all of the ruffles, trifles and the frilly lace? ;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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The Bully
S.S. Bernardo traveled the seas-
Oh so high and mighty-he preened-
His long dark curly locks were blowing...
At last, his true character has been seen! ;
Oh-it took so many years...!
As Betty tried desperately to cover his course-
But its been said that too many cooks oft' spoil the brew-
At last-a break in this malevolent force! ;
S.S. Bernardo came calling...
'Cross thirty years or more of deep-deep seas...
Ever vowing to keep that promise he'd made...
Back in the days of a much quieter breeze;
He promised to drive much less unruly...
In order to view my eyes emerald green hue...
He is still stuck on the belief that i am in debt to him...! ! !
Oh Lordy-if he only knew the hell i've been through! ;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Schemer
So what if it hurts me?
You carelessly dancing with the Sun...
Mired deeply in your belicose attitude...
Feeling no remorse of what you have done.
Much as a Basilisk slightly hidden in the tropics...
Whose lethal breath and glance completely destroys...!
Your persona 'tis inflamed with a choleric attitude...
You-who-are so easily annoyed.
So what if it hurts me?
As fear deliquesces my weary soul...
Tormented beyond the pale-Master of no remorse...
Much needed comaraderie should instead be your goal.
Your diaphanous persona has broken my being...
All stuck in a bourgeous cow trodden town...
We are searching for euphonious tones this day...
While your existentialism makes you responsible for schemes we found.
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Driven
I cannot escape this road i live on~
The traffic runs both ways-
Trying simply to cross it-
Only adds more confusion to my days...
It is the same inside of my place~
Trying to choose a condiment that is clean! ! !
Choices of catsup, mustard or mayo-
Are not always- -what they seem! ! !
Laundry detergent smells and makes skin raw~
Wonder about the tooth paste as well-
And what of the creams and bath salts?
It is really too soon to tell! ! !
For it seems a 'gold fever' team, if you will~
Partnered up for a trip 'cross the line-
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Creepy-The Sitting Duck!
So much has been exposed ALREADY-
So many players have been named...! ! !
And your publicity-even though bad-has spotlighted you...! ! !
Into the possible perp of 'Criminal Fame';
To say that you and yours are the number 1 suspects...
On a list near a full page long...
Would be an understatement...
But you continue-to write about doing wrong;
With your oft' hidden intimidating threats...
That are so easily caught...! ! !
It doesn't take a Criminal Profiler...
To see what you are STILL all about! ;
But in your little cruel life...! ! !
You prpbably say-what the hey...
My wife left and had an abortion to boot...
So i might as well spread the misery 'round this day! ! ! ;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Damage Control (From his mouth to Gods ears)
Its an utter break down of words-
Thrown out by a speed influenced mind-
He fancies himself as a master mentor...
While he dishes backhanded threats unkind;
The mentor says no to the Poo Poo platter...
As this teacher is an anal-retentive find-
Cosmic laws do not govern his massive 'EGO'-
While he enforces ties that bind;
Picking the wings off of butterflies-his pass time-
Though vowing that none are ever hurt...!
He's greed infested from the early 1970's...
Seeds of ill repute sprout from his old dirt;
The mentor speaks of God and blesses many-
And includes Christs teachings in his 'ALL'
But the mentor is a two-faced hypocrite-
Filled in his gut with bitter gall;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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Up For Debate?
Listening to that ole' Mississippi beat
And lookin' for clever converstaion-i take a look
So many issues at hand to debate
Surely enough to publish a little ole' book;
I found him in the corner hunched over
Drinkin' his Jack Daniels straight
Talkin' 'bout his Cobalt Blue Chev pickup
Not much at all to debate;
His closely cropped hair's red and white stood out
But his mostly white beard was gone
Same ole' large belly just hanging over his belt
Talkin' 'bout bein' up to no wrong! ;
Talkin' 'bout how he watched her closely!
Parked 'cross from her home for only a moment yesterday
How he wrote about her constantly
And got no where to his utter dismay! ;
'I dream about her constantly'
'When i'm awake she is forever on my mind'
I open my eyes wide to search
It is her sweet face that i find;
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poem by Theodora Onken
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C.B.***2 Wit
..........................He's In The House........................
................ .....In The Attic Frozen Still.................
................Only Moves When He Has To...........
................Waiting To Get His Nasty Fill...........
...............I Hear Him From Time To Time........
............When The Cold Cracks His Base........
............And He Tries To Move His Arms.........
........................Just To Feel His Face.................
..And When We Are All In Bed Slumbering....
..........The Ghost-He Slinks Down The Stairs...
...............Pillages Our Kitchen For Food..............
..................Robbing Our Cupboards Bare................
.....................Some times He Leaves..........................
............. .......Out The Patio Door, He Goes...............
...................But Leaves The Stick Out In View..........
.........................Just To Let Us Know...........................
.............. ......Its Harder For Him Now...........................
.....As The Bay Door Is Tighter Than Leather..........
........But He Manages To Still Slink Around..............
.............To Meet With His Birds of A Feather............
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poem by Theodora Onken
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