Observed on the Morning Commute

On the crosstown shuttle, just standing room
by the time she got on in the morning rush
and each day he rose from the seat he’d claimed.

Face flushed, she acquiesced.
It was a ritual dance
they practiced with natural grace.

Though the ride was rough, the waft of her perfume
was worth it. He needed no more thanks, nor did he get it
for she was as reticent as him.

A knight of bold deeds and chivalry for the duration
of this ride to the city, the shy smile made her his lady
as surely as a scarf bestowed.

Too soon the crosstown trip was done;
real life reclaimed the starring role.
They will meet again tomorrow,

same time, same perfume.

Man or Ape

Torn
between being a militant pacifist
or a boring reactionary
I read the news and weep.

Lineage
has little to do with it;
the dinner conversations
are always heated.

Ever
attentive to detail, there are nit pickers
in my history, necks stiff
from keeping their eye on the ball.

Sometimes
blinded by the light, we get down
but we seldom get it right
in this half-jungle tundra

of sinew
and synapse
and a fleeting emotion
that would bring a tear to your eye.

On the Wings of a Setting Sun

Atop the hill day makes its goodnight cry
in flame-red hues of myth and mystery,
Divine creation with a  breathy  sigh
burnishes earth in golden artistry.

Would I were that speck in majestic flight,
the wing’ed sparrow soaring high above
unfettered by melancholy twilight
nor taunted by the specters born thereof.

To feel the rush of wind beneath such wings,
to coast on currents warm with fading sun,
What makes the faith that lets the caged bird sing?
What wisdom lets a finished day be done?

Last vestiges of sun slip from my gaze
as melancholy turns to words of praise.

A New WordPress Blog

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The Peaceful Pub came into existence in 2004.  It began with five members and by the end of the year we counted our blessings for the twenty additional poets and writers who had joined together at the Pub’s fireside. We celebrated every new member and every new post.  It was a great source of joy, camaraderie and some pretty awesome poetry and prose.  In May of 2005, there was a ‘great disaster’ and suddenly all of our efforts were wiped out by a ‘massive server hack’.

Pubsters are a hardy bunch and the group became a family. They/we did not quit. In fact,
The Pub flourished in spite of the ever-changing platform. As years accumulated so did our membership.  It sky rocketed; 2007-2011was our heyday. Even when Facebook began the death knell for forums, we maintained almost a thousand members, until this, our thirteenth year, when the decision was made that enough is enough.

Don’t forget, Pubsters are a family and they are not quitters. The result is a new blog.  It is a multi-faceted blog authored by a group of loyal and talented Pubsters.  I hope you will stop by to imbibe of the literary libations and to offer your support.

The Peaceful Pub