Poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley
put into art of fire of red and black of the shadows by Peter Tunney as found at the Wynwood Art Museum, Miami

We are who we are. Tested by fire, by a history of challenges, and we will give in to no one, for we have earned our freedoms and will not give them up.   No matter what we have to do, no matter the obstacles we will have to  overcome.  We will face them without fear of retribution, revenge and unjust punishment… for we are masters of our fate, and captains of our souls.

Rum raisin ice-cream is the best… it originated in Sicily in the 1930’s … where raisins were soaked in a local wine and mixed then into gelato.  When it was brought to the United States the local wine was replaced with rum… what a great upgrade from the old to the new.

Rum Raisin

In the back, furthest from the door
is the special treat I came here for,
Beyond the chocolate and cookie dough
not the vanilla or strawberry of old
or the mint chocolate or rocky road
lies that special treat, yummy and cold.

Like heavenly angels would dream
sweet raisins and rum with cream,
overflowing with richness and icy cold
it tastes smooth and perfectly bold
from Sicily it came here to our shores
and found its way to our local stores.

At the small ice cream shop on main street
of every small town, you’ll find this cold treat.
Just give it a try, in a cup, or better, a waffle cone.
Others will want to try it and not leave you alone.
But, love is sharing its perfect smoothness and taste,
and returns you’re sure to make, with all do haste.

There is a crackling in the air
there something out there
that is reaching across all life
and it’s a cutting sharp knife.

It’s angry, it’s hard and telling.
It’s comes in ugly and yelling,
and it’s as unrelenting as gravity
pulling us down in its depravity.

Power is all that matters now.
Nations and peoples must bow
to devils of the East and West
at the time of their loyalty test.

Else, the four horsemen will rise
as they chase the phantom prize
of power, wealth and adulation
from all of you and every nation.

The end is just beginning
The world is now spinning
in a direction of great turmoil
in a battle for minerals and oil.

Evil must be stopped now
before fields feel the plow
before the seeds are in the ground
before the final trumpets do sound.

It is time to rise up, to resist,
to make arguments and persist
with values and courage unfettered
while reasoned people still matter.

Before the power of evil is too strong
and right is indistinguishable from wrong
in the apocalypse of the four horsemen
and the battles which precurses the end.

Rise up, while we still can
Rise up, and upend their plan
Rise up, with all the power of good
Rise up, let the future know we stood

bravely for them!

Around the age of four and a half it is natural for children to skip, despite it being relatively inefficient compared to walking and running.  There’s no evolutionary reason for it… except it is fun.

SKIPPING 

I’m skipping, just to see if I can
it comes as natural as breathing
as my mind travels back to childhood
as my happiness swells through the
exertion.  

A stick-in-the-mud, says you’ll 
wear out your shoes – is this what his
mother told him once long ago to
tamper his fun, or is it just being
old and grumpy? 

If you are happy, let it all out with
a smile and a skipping hop and slide,
and if not happy, you need it
even more, because you can’t skip
without happy! 

Remember hopscotch, or jump
rope, or wheelies on a bicycle, 
such meaningless, un-measured fun
now possibly beyond our reach, 
but for skipping. 

So when the world gets you down
when the press of life is upon you,
then take a moment for skipping 
and unwind and be a kid again, 
happy! 

Great Blue Heron

STILLNESS

Waiting for the world to turn,
slowing heart rate, muscles burn.
Stalking stillness, silent silky moves.
Waiting until the opportunity improves.

There will be one moment or another
when two worlds will come together 
for the strike of singular survival purpose
 changing lives on each side of the surface. 

Thus for a moment captured in time,
the grace of stillness finds a rhyme 
in the heart of a poet on a fine sunny day,
as a lesson in patience for what comes our way. 

You have no idea how beautiful
you are, how a flight in sunlight
over reflecting waves can soothe
the soul, how perfect the moment
when nature brings us something
rare, something fleeting, and
we have the means to share in
art, photo, poetry, and we capture
the very essence of grace,
a lovely expression of nature’s
face presented to us mere 
mortals, reminding us there
is something more, something
which permits, no requires
our wonderment,  and we
have the power to see,
to feel, to capture, and
share what the world grants
us as our birthright, the beauty
of nature, which is in all of us,
and too often, you have 
no idea just how beautiful 
you all are. 

in Love and War,
which can only mean there
are no rules, and all is fair
in the chaos which follows
what our purpose allows.

And winning is the reason
for the trouble of the season.
But for who do we win?
Is it for love or war we will sin?

For love is a faithful multiplier
and war but an ugly divider
as we do the math of our souls,
contemplating our purpose and goals.

Thus, may it always be the chaos
of love which creates the ethos
in which our spirit resides
and our soul never hides.

They give their very best,
as they blossom bright
and shine for us,
as we experience
their buoyant beauty,
their fragile fragrance,
and we love them for how
they brighten our world;
yet knowing the truth
of time… that they are
for us but a moment and
will be gone too soon,
as their beauty will shed
as the relentlessness of gravity
overcomes stout pliant bodies,
and colors fade from bright
hues of purple and stunning reds,
mixed with startling whites into
dull grays of formerly stately hues
and life-altering brown spotting
finds it way to the surface,
while we witness the arrow of time
carry them beyond those
brilliant moments and flashes
of color, into a fragile
state of disrepair,
but oh the memories,
the memories
of the glory of life.