Scientia potentia est

News literacy project


Could I possibly implore you
Oh ye of little sense
Not to fall for every
Schemers
Ploy, as you peruse the
Internet?
Really, I’m not the only one that thinks, you
Are coming off half cocked
Claiming insider information
You most assuredly haven’t got

The ‘truths’ you’re privy to online
Have to be weighed with common sense
Evidently, in which you’re lacking-
Or you’d have thought of this yourself.
Really, I’m not judging-
I just absolutely believe, that when Sr. Francis Bacon
Said, “Scientia potentia est”- he knew
That knowledge can only be power, when your
Sources are correct.

Written for Chelsea Ann Owens Terrible Poetry Contest call for An Acrostic directed toward someone you detest.

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Bukowski

bukowski said,,
he had a bluebird
in his heart….
he said,
he tried
to drown it
in cheap whiskey-
to smother it
in the smoke,
of a myriad
of hand rolled
cigarettes.. yet,
in the end,
he told us,
he knew,
that it was there.
and he knew-
it was a bluebird…

still i wonder,
just how deep
he had to sink
into the quagmire
of his own
scarred psyche-
how many nights
he had to lay awake
staring into
the cold, black,
eyes of self-
before he heard
that single blessed note…
before it broke thru.
before it rose above
the mire of
life’s melancholy
melody…and when it did-

when at last,
it broke thru,
his delusion distilled,
and for the first time
he held it close
late at night
in the dark
when no one else
was around-

was it then
that he realized
it was never
really a bluebird
that he was trying
to drown
in cheap whiskey
or to smother
in the fog
of yet another
hand rolled cigarette?
was it then
that he realized
it was never
really a bluebird
that he desired
to hold ever so tightly
to himself
as he drifted
off to sleep
listening to
the bittersweet song
that only he
could hear
alone, in the dark
when no one else
could see?

and if it was then,
did he weep?
i for one
believe he did….

Posted in response to Chelsea Ann Owens Terrible Poetry Contest call for bastardized poetry. (Well, that’s not exactly what she called it….) Mine is not a parody, but rather a response.

If you have never heard the poem, I highly suggest you allow Bukowski himself to speak it to you. It will be worth it. Even if you think you don’t like poetry.

Much farther than that


in my minds darkest hour,
i saw him standing alone,
rumpled clothes, unkempt hair
a smile that said “believe in me”
radiating from his worry lined face…

i strayed from my plan
and hit the curb,
nearly screeching to a stop-
he asked if i was going far,
i told him much farther than that..

we talked and laughed
and sang some songs
he mentioned i no longer looked sad-
i couldn’t contest that- so instead,
i told him i had set off to end it all
but he’d made me rethink my plan.

he told me he had been there too,
very recently in fact
as he slipped the noose about his neck
he decided, just this once
to give himself a chance..

now we travel together
for however long it will last.
both of us on the run-
he from the clutches of the law-
and me from the jaws of death..


Posted for Friday Foto Fun, and Girlie on the Edge’s Six Sentence Story. Prompt word: Contest.

Vernal Haikuz

Photo by Levi Guzman via Unsplash


Grace, Charm, and Beauty
The three graces escape me
In mud covered boots
              ***
To me, spring cleaning
Means finding out what’s taken
Root under the fridge
               ***
Giai’s hot flashes
Window panes on roller skates
Her prerogative

Shall I continue?
There are more where those came from.
I’m game if you are.

Written for Chelsea Ann Owens terrible Poetry Contest. This weeks call is for springtime haiku.

Opposites Attract


Art by Vincent Giarrano


He isn’t my type.
I’m a mover, a shaker, a rocker, a punk.
He’s a brainiac, a nerd, a techie, a geek.
I live for the crowd, the chaos, the smoke, the applause.
He lives for the scholarships, the level ups, the test scores, the hacks.
He trips over my amplifier cord, opens his mouth, and music pours out:

“Awkward to a fault-
Contents of a graceless life
Spewed across the floor.”

This Haibun/Senryu is written for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday #synonyms only, words poets choice. The Photo Prompt, is from Mind loves Misery’s Menagerie. The word: Applause was supplied by Eugenia, at Brew N Spew Cafe. And the word: Type was supplied by Girlie on the Edge’s Six Sentence Story prompt.