My name is Duncan,
A close cousin to the pumpkin.
Let me be your jack-o-lantern
I promise I can frighten.
BOO
How’d I do?
Did I scare you?
Watch what you say
For I’ll make you pay
By showing up one day,
To take you away . . .
Happy Halloween!
Image: Pixabay
Spare your staff,
Hold your curses,
Let me take half
Of your silken purses.
I’m just a lowly citizen
With mouths to feed
By the dozen;
My reason is not greed.
Allow me to go free
Leave you to your rest
All I ask you to agree
Is to let go of that treasure chest.
Image: Pixabay
The tall ships sailed
Outward bound
Fated to find a new world
To be conquered
Land ho!
Much to see, o!
Round up the bands
Of natives and their lands
Create new brands
Under the explorer’s commands
‘Tis a new world order
With a rebound border
Survival of the fittest
Along with a long list
Of those willing to enlist
To put up their figurative fist.
Image: Pixabay
El Niño
Gone loco,
Upset La Niña,
So no buena.
Category four
A lethal score,
Mother Nature,
Such a player.
Making waves
Like mad raves.
That’s her way,
We get no say.
Image: Pixabay
Guerilla tactics
With the same dynamics,
Out of control,
They’re on a killing roll,
One after the other,
This is truly war.
They’re desperadoes
Showing they won’t be cowed,
Displaying their bravados
By ramming through a crowd
Of innocents,
Forcing their dissonance.
Time to shed the politics
Register both citizens and aliens
To identify ISIS and other lunatics.
Weed out the barbarians
To stop this downward spiral.
This is now a matter of survival.
[In reference to the Bastille Day truck massacre in southern France today.]
Image: Pixabay
Another terrorist shoot down
Receiving undeserved renown
For yet one more action of hate
Sealing innocent people’s fate.
One after another
Alone or with others,
They come and go as they please,
Festering like an incurable disease.
From San Bernardino
Now to Orlando,
Random, yet not random
Acts of doom.
No guaranty
Of any kind of security
Though such is the reality,
The more reason to seek solidarity.
They appeared as a gift or purchase,
One wonders if mostly done by impulse,
Too much stuff for not much purpose
Other than create a first-world surplus.
All take up space,
Always in my face
For use only once in a while,
Not enough to justify the pile.
Off they go,
Time to let them flow
To those who can use them
And would find each a gem.
At one time they were a good buy,
Now I have to fare them good-bye.
Energy I must muster
To help me declutter.
Karina Pinella 
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