Leprechauns in Pop’s Fedora | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

For years leprechauns lived
under Pop’s fedora.
They danced jigs on his head
when he wore it

and hid in his ears
when he took it off
to scratch his head
then jumped back up

to dance a few reels
when he took it off
for another good scratch.
Leprechauns dancing

confused my mother.
She thought Pops
had ringworm or lice
and should see a doctor.

The attendant said no
ringworm or lice but said
Pop might look odd
wearing a hat in his coffin.

Visit Donal at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.



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Yo Yo Yo | A Poem by G.S. Katz

It’s the urban version of
HO HO HO

so YO YO YO

Yo Happy Holidays

YO

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Thoughts While Waiting in the ER | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

You thought you knew her.
She thought she knew you.

Neither was true
but this happens at times

at Happy Hour on Fridays
after a long week of work.

The rapport was strong.
Amazing, you thought.

She might be someone
you’d see more than once.

She had a nice apartment
or maybe it was a condo

a big double bed
with a canopy yet.

You slept soundly until
the key in the door

and from the other pillow
you heard a whisper,

“He’s not expected
until late next week.”

Visit Donal at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.

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Human Spirit | A Poem by G.S. Katz

You always remind me
Of your faith in people
Sometimes I have to think about it
Then I agree

It’s all we have
Each other
We can get lost
Then found

Friends, lovers, strangers
It’s all possible
Thank you
For never letting me forget

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To Leonard Woolf | A Poem by Naduni

Your great judge
The unbiased
White-souled gentleman
Sits in the bar
While my ancestor
Doesn’t understand that
He’s ‘acquitted’
The white jargon of the white law was
Alien to Silindu,
The wild bull, to you.
You said he made love
Like an animal
Did you witness? (If so, not very gentlemanly of you!)
Couldn’t it have been the wild cry
Of my great-great-grandmother’s pleasure
(Since my ancestors insisted on pleasure for both)
Silindu, my ancestor, the bull to you,
To me is the epitome of patience, far-sightedness and innocence
That bore your colonization with forbearance
My native culture,
My tradition of cohabitation,
Utter folly, taboo and immorality to you
Oh! To you and the natives who imitated you
To me is the veneration of individual freedom,
Freedom to love, freedom to live and freedom to leave
When one wants to

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Holiday Music | A Poem by G.S. Katz

The best thing about the holidays
Is January 2nd, when the annoying holiday music in the supermarket
ends and we go back to sincere elevator music…

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A Female Bird Speaks | A Poem by Naduni

My bird husband is making
A nest, said to be, comfortable
For his babies who still sleep in
My bloated belly
He is so little, and cute
But not weak mind you
When he opens his sharp beak
Every bird becomes weak

While my loving bird husband
Orders lovingly me to rest
While he builds the nest
For his babies that carry on his
Proud family name,
I perch lazily on a towering, dark tree
And doze and doze the whole day
After all what else can I do
I am a female bird mind you,
So I can’t build a nest
Not even for those who come from my own body
It is against nature
If I undertake the work
It would create such chaos in our little bird world

When he’s done I will lay the eggs
And idle till the next season
Then I’ll have to find another lover and lie
If I give up this work
Which is going against the nature,
It would create such chaos in our little bird world

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