Laying Low

“Laying Low” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Laying low,
avoiding the rush.

I remember those forgotten,
the chosen few.

Many directions allowed,
because of  life given.

In the river,
i see the path abruptly end.

Many times walked,
unnoticed or blocked.

Looking up,
i remember.

-SWB

It’s Memorial Day in the United States. Even if you are not from our country, please remember someone today that gave their life so you could have a chance at yours.

Mossy

“Mossy” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

SWB Bad Poetry at it’s best:

Mossy,
in the morning a little bit glossy.

Slick,
it ain’t gonna help you light a candle wick.

Slippy,
nothing giving that super tight grip.

Green,
well … it’s usually green.

It’s a slick mossy rock,
you expected more?

-SWB

We decided to compliment your “case of the Mondays” with our “case of bad poetry” ….. enjoy. You gotta admin – the pic is cool, though.

Rocks Of Life

“Steady Ways” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Rocks of life,
perceived rules within.

Maybe just something to lean on,
ridding the conflicts within.

Ways of the world,
flow past these rocks.

Never held back,
never blocked.

Pains of the paste cleaned away,
not able to turn back stay.

Leaned on for rest … they’re use never second best,
clearing stress cleaning life emptying mess.

Rocks of life.

-SWB

Blue

“Blue Life” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Skies blue,
red occasional few.

Never seen below,
but controlling many a tide.

Floating through life,
free of all anguish.

Glowing with guidance,
a creature followed rarely.

It’s free mind,
never staying behind.

Never restless, never lost,
happiness acquired without any cost.

Hands out reaching to distances unknown,
always making its current place home.

A blue life it seems would be sad,
a blue life always rejoicing to be had.

-SWB

Once The Living

“Living Was Once” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Living was once a thing,
treasured by all.

Then we forgot,
forgot all.

Waking to light,
was savored by the mass.

Leading a life,
helping the less.

Living was once a thing,
that all beings did.

Forgetting about self,
remembering all others.

Lifting a finger,
giving an arm.

Powering a light,
for many without sight.

Living was once a thing,
that we all remembered.

Raising children,
for families distraught.

Feeding a void,
that should never be empty.

invigorating a need,
by planting a seed.

Living was once a thing,
that we all once did.

-SWB

Natural

“The Leaves” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Natural to listen,
voices in the leaves.

Songs being whispered,
within the trees long wise.

Command to all,
how to avoid the fall.

Wind giving wishes to the crowd,
honoring those spoken aloud.

Natural to think,
ambition speaking wild.

The worlds amongst the branches,
living unknown, seeming complete.

Passing to the right, blind,
talking reality to those unseen.

Working the words from times prevailed,
wondering the thoughts from mistakes.

Natural to all,
natural to fall.

-SWB

Taking The Path

“Guidance” (c) Lawrence A Capozzolo

Taking the path to a place unknown,
nudging me far from home.

Too many turns into new,
forgetting friends too few.

A railing to guide in the dark,
clearly working out direction.

Hearing sounds of the journey alone,
wondering with blurry sight.

Wishing the path would end in light.

-SWB

Falling Ahead

“Late Fall” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Falling ahead,
i though it was over.

Instead another color nova.

Waiting until late,
until summer thought it was here.

Behind and coming around a corner,
born a second color fall for all.

Ended we thought,
but right we were not.

Golden-red still falling,
continued lost in the storm.

The beauty in colors saved,
a reminder of nature’s beauty paved.

Delayed colors in light,
putting a bright day before the night.

-SWB

The Flow

“Life in Liquid” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Waters keep life remaining,
breathing the flow.

Dropping from on high,
much growing in mystery.

Everything dependent,
in clouds life beams.

Wet though the night,
nature sprouting robust.

Beauty in May,
crystal streams cut the path.

Life is clear,
with water near.

-SWB

 

Colors

“Red” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Red bird on it’s perch,
living the life.

Singing it’s song,
adding sweetness to the air.

Blue wings,
gliding in the day.

To many today,
colors point the way.

Red bird seeing everything,
one thing doesn’t mean one bit.

In flight day or night,
everything is beautiful.

Nothing judged,
nothing scorned.

Red bird in it’s delight,
though a prism it’s eyes see bright.

-SWB

Snowy Pine

“Snowy Pine” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Snowy pine,
how cold and sublime.

The sun is out and be told,
this extended cold is getting old.

The delicate white floating into sight,
tests my might to keep the positive in life.

Cold covered branches,
would be warmed with nice hot matches.

This snowy bliss is crap,
i consider to be much amiss.

Snow pine,
in no way do I claim you as mine.

-SWB

Bad poetry of the day, and an ode to Phil’s prediction of the extended winter we experienced this year.

Blooming All Around

“In Time” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Blooming all around,
maybe noticed in this sleepy town.

Light in color,
adoring the weather.

A sign of life,
entering with all it’s might.

A small dot drifted,
into the ground it was sifted.

With a growing smile,
it traveled for a mile.

Sitting still,
it took in the thrill.

Growing wide,
All amazed with what’s inside.

-SWB

The Digger Effect

“Digger” (c)Lawrence A Capozzolo

Archaeologists? Public utilities workers? Construction types?

What’s this about?

It’s about “Digger”, a ground hog that thinks he’s protecting our garden basically by eating it.

Digger stopped in with his parents a few years ago. They looked cute together all munching on my 2 1/2 foot zucchini. Actually it was one of the twelve growing at the time, so honestly I really didn’t care too much. I wanted to leave them alone, as I figured they would go away after getting their fill, but I did need to get some tomatoes for pasta sauce. Well, as soon as I opened the gate the parents fled instantly – they’ve been around long enough to know how to bolt our of the garden quickly. Unfortunately Digger was young enough to be clueless. It was sad seeing this baby of a ground hog scared stiff watching it’s parents run down the hill. Digger had a look in his eyes that clearly said, “Mom …. Dad …. ummmmm ……. I think you forgot about me.” I seem to remember things happening like this when I worked in malls in the late 80s.

After his parents made it all the way down the hill and out of sight … Digger scurried around to look directly at me with his eyes basically saying, “please don’t eat me”. He was about the size of my fist at the time. A few minutes later with me not making much of a move, Digger seemed relaxed enough for me to approach and get a chance to guide him out of the garden. Even when I tried to nudge him out, he stayed still … he was comfortable enough to eat a bit in front of me, but not enough to follow my encouragement towards the exit. I decided to leave the entrance open and hope that no deer would come into the garden and damage it. I was thinking his parents would come back to take him home.

When I checked later that night, Digger was still in the garden and in the same general area – no parents had shown, even with no people present. I physically nudged Digger our the door with my hand little by little until he was in the grass. He didn’t seemed stressed and actually sniffed my shoes a few times. After a while with me watching him from our sun room, he decided to explore down the hill where he noticed his parents going last. I figured I’d see the three of them together later the next day.

Well, no parents the next day, and Digger was foraging himself … he seemed to get along OK. At some point I knew he would pick things up and survive … probably meeting with his parents in the process. I was wrong … I’d see him every day out in the field, with no family … they seemed to have abandoned him. This seemed sad, but I guessed it was just part of nature.

One day a little while after all of this happened I was sitting at the entrance of our sun room, I heard a noise in the flowers next to me. It was Digger. He, so slowly, came over to me and started sniffing my shoes (he did that once on the garden before I guided him out). He then sniffed the other one, put his paws on my leg and looked up at me – almost if to say “thank you”. He occasionally showed up in the yard and seemed to recognize me and my family. More than once I’ve seen him walk past and next to our dog. They really didn’t seem to mind and almost seemed to know each other as sort of friends.

Digger has hung around our house for years now …. causing no damage (believe me, we check). He always seems to stop and look at us as if to say “Hi” and go about his business. He has slowly become part of out family (I’ve even seen him sunning himself once on top of our dog – it was amusing). Our original dog, Brandy is really relaxed, so I’m not sure this will continue of the new retriever sees him … but we’ll see. You never know what dog communicate to each other about their other furry friends outside.

This almost reminds me of a very old show called Grizzly Adams. The animals in that show easily existed with the humans around them …

Maybe we can learn a bit from the?

-SWB

PS.  We’re pretty sure that Digger thinks he’s a dog now. He looks at people like they should toss him treats. Also … he doesn’t like Phil (he was irritated with the length of winter this year).

A Really Big Tree

“Really Big Tree” (c) L Capozzolo

It’s a tree …
a really big tree.

It’s got roots …
that grow low and slow.

It’s a tree …
a really big tree.

It’s white ‘n gray ‘n stuff …
and it’s got no fluff.

It’s a tree …
a really big tree.

It’s got no leaves …
and it’s full of bees.

It’s a tree …
a really big tree.

It’s nesting a bird …
a big fluffy nerd.

It’s a tree …
a really big tree.

It’s going to fall to the ground …
and make noise all around.

It’s a tree …
a really big tree.

-SWB

Contender for the worst poem ever … or the next top 40 song that will make me a million or so (someone got some beats for this?)

A Winter’s Plight

(c) Lawrence A Capozzolo

A winter’s plight,
surely no one’s delight.

Season’s confused,
mother nature amused.

——

A Pennsylvania challenge … four seasons in month,
“hold my beer”, said mother nature … watch me do that in a day.

After a month trying to keep winter at bay,
miss nature appears to intend for winter to stay.

I see the sun and warmth,
confused by the frost in the ‘morn.

Why can’t PA,
have a normal every – other – day??

-SWB

Pic (c)2018  Lawrence A Capozzolo