Sunday, August 6, 2017

Sadako's Cranes (InvertedHexaduad)

Sadako’s Cranes

Brightly colored paper
Origami cranes, and we fly
Away with them
From this world’s illusion
Power and pain
Just fall away
And soar into the sun
Of peace and joy
We invest hope our with you, child
Folding brightly colored

© 2017 david w palmer

Sadako Sasaki was only 2 the day the black rain fell over Hiroshima
Ten years later she would die from leukemia, complications of her
Exposure to that radiation. She was told if she folded 1000 origami
Cranes she could have one wish granted. She died after making 644 
Of them. Her classmates folded the thousand in her memory and they

Are buried with her. Her family kept her 644. This is her memorial in Hiroshima.

Paper Lanterns -- Inverted Hexaduad

Paper Lanterns (Inverted Hexaduad)

We always remember
Paper Lanterns floating on glass
Seas forever
Always away from me
Plunge after you
And draw you back 
To my safe shores I would
But free spirits
Belong to God, never to me
We always remember

© 2017 david w palmer
In memory of the victims of the Atomic Bomb detonation

Over Hiroshima, Japan, August 6, 1945, 8:15 AM

Monday, July 31, 2017

Headdesk (Fibonacci Sequence)


Encounters me like
A brick wall, immovable -- these
People are not going to change, nor see reason today
If I can see what needs to be done, then do it. Headdesk banging just bruises my brain.

© 20l7 david w palmer

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Lenity (a Free Verse Quatrain)

Lenity (free verse quatrain)

Not the thunderous pontifications of dictators,
Nor the terror visited upon our cities too often,
Nor advanced weapons systems and missile tests
That move our world and effect lasting change.

Not the weight of monetary gain, nor one percent wealth,
Nor the intelligence behind presidential think tanks
Nor the noisemakers, talking heads, or media celebrities
That shake our world’s convictions nor advance our condition

These are but distractions in a purposeless existence
Jesters in the marketplace of ideas vying for our purchase
Blaring, glaring, daring voices convinced of their own importance
And they will be but yesterday’s news come the rising of next sun.

Not the famous, nor historical, not the man who would be king
It’s the quiet voice of lenity, the gentle voice almost drowned out
That makes us face ourselves and stop and think. It’s the saints
We know on local shores whose moral suasion gravitates the tides.

The movers and shakers who shape the things to come are not
They who bully, legislate, sermonize, philosophize unceasingly.
Look for the gentle man with the heavenly dove at rest on his hands,
The roaring lamb whose life exemplifies the better self we all could be.

© 2017 david w palmer
30-July, 2017
Auburn, Washington, USA

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Cerealogy (A Gwawdodyn - Tongue in Cheek)

Cereology (A Gwawdodyn – tongue in cheek)

Visitors from the Great Beyond?
Or bored frustrated artists bound
For Des Moines, not the stars above?
“Earn coin, Plow it, they will come ‘round.”

Prepare to be invaded, Love
Martian hostiles seek warmth, will shove
Human Earthlings into exile
Living in homes we’re deprived of

They’ve been appearing for awhile
Such sophisticated style
I wonder what they’re here for, though
Ponder their journey, million miles.

Wonder what message they disclose
Why do we live here in repose?
Please, Miranda, not this facound
“On Andromeda, Eat at Joe’s.”

© 2017 david w palmer

“Des Moines,” Capitol city of the State of Iowa, USA (French, means “Of the monks”)
“Facound” from the French and Middle English, meaning eloquent speech. I am being sarcastic here.

Erstwhile Poplars (Narrative Poetry)

Erstwhile Poplars (Narrative Poem)

That line of stately poplars
Defines the main avenue
Up to the great house on this
Dignified, historic, if not dilapidated
Estate; those trees, the last of
The heraldry of the Ancien RĂ©gime
That once defined the closest thing
To caste an American Society has, and
They are the last witnesses to days
Of brighter glory when erstwhile
Industrialists and philanthropists
Tried their hand at raising the sights
Of the poor and displaced among them.
Trouble was, that dream was false, for
The Invitation to better one’s lot was
But a mirage. True advancement never
Was the object, for none of “them”
Would ever set foot in the gentlemen’s
Clubs, nor worship from the front pew
Of the Presbyterian Church, or be
Elected to office in this town, to that Council.

But winds of change do blow and when they strike
Those poplars, erstwhile stalwarts of an inflexible
Social structure suddenly were bowing and scraping
And doing homage to the gale-force winds of
Fermenting reform. The secret to the trees’ survival
Is to accommodate and adjust to prevailing trends
And offer the path of least resistance. And the elements
Believe they are accomplishing something significant.
But movements falter, enthusiasm wanes and the
Hoi Polloi do have miserable lives to get back to:
Children to raise, bread on the table, propagation
Of the next desperate working class generation.
The cause be left for yet another day, and those poplars,
Once erstwhile accommodators to the forces that would
Move them, return to their former stately function
Of dividing lines of property and inheritance to which
None of “them” will ever gain admittance.

The more things change….

© 2017 david w palmer
29-June, 2017
Auburn, Washington, USA

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Epithalamion 3 (A Gwawdodyn)

Epithalamion 3 (A Gwawdodyn Chain)

I rebel against advancing night
Draw you close to kiss ‘neath stars so bright
This our moment may never come again
Dreams may ferment, lovers live in light

Life be captur’d in a snapshot’s plain
Twisting turning paths of life’s refrain
Have made this great crescendo here with you
No innuendo, this our path hath gain’d

Let’s celebrate our love that’s ever true
Found our way to paradise anew
Living, loving kissing sweetly sharing
With your soul thriving ‘neath skies so blue

Bless us Father, as we live loving
For our precious partner so caring
Standing with this sight above, cosmos vast
Let’s ever seek secrets light’s revealing.

© 2017 david w palmer

Epithalamion – a wedding song (the third one I have composed)

Inspired by the song “We May Never Pass This Way Again,” Seals & Crofts