Spring Storm (A Triptych Haiku)

Thickened oxygen
Misty haze upon the ground
Grass sweat pungent green

Sudden chilling wind
Gray somber overcast rain
Hail, violent quick

Verdant paradise
Crisp first flower butterfly
Long blade beauty sheen

 

“Spring Storm” is a triptych haiku written by Michael Aaron Casares. All rights reserved. 

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A Death-Bed Adieu by President Thomas Jefferson

To M.R.

Life’s visions are vanished, it’s dreams are no more.
Dear friends of my bosom, why bathed in tears?
I go to my fathers; I welcome the shore,
which crowns all my hopes, or which buries my cares.
Then farewell my dear, my lov’d daughter, Adieu!
The last pang in life is in parting from you.
Two Seraphs await me, long shrouded in death;
I will bear them your love on my last parting breath.

 

jefferson


Thomas Jefferson was the third president of the United States of America. Jefferson was a Founding Father and author of the Declaration of Independence. He was born on April 13, 1784 in Shadwell in the Colony of Virginia. Jefferson was a Statesmen, diplomat, lawyer and philosopher; he served as president from 1801 to 1809. Jefferson was also the United States of America’s first Secretary of State from 1790 to 1793 and second Vice President from 1797 to 1801. He is credited as being responsible for the Louisiana Purchase of 1803 and founding the University of Virginia in 1819. He passed on July 4th, 1826, the 50th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. 

Black Orpheus: Blasphemous Energies Deceive the Magic Hour

Fresh quote through evergreen sea breeze,
a lie in the wind, a hangman in a whisper,
the flower budded and wilted before
sacred flame cleansed and birthed.
Hidden ghosts present themselves
as salves of incense, demystified
emanant, radiant smoke, fog inside,
haze of natural born energies:
earth, water, air, fire.
Spice as spunky as skunk
subdue the alchemical shift
of desire. The pyre is stacked
a thousand feet to the sky, an
effigy of pleasure and hedonism,
an homage to gluttony and vice,
a blessing. Never so generous,
Mother has borrowed life against
Herself to bargain for the soul.
Her child rebukes her, rebels,
becomes a renegade
against itself,
eats itself,
devours itself,
a cannibal for excessive vanity.
It set the pyre alight and walks away,
vying for the crystalline altars
of the clear minded gods
and their many servants
that occupy and copulate
in the distant slopes
where rails and
needles provide
cautious governance
to the shadows that rule.
The ancient Green Man
rots with puritanical lust,
the son of god rebukes
the devil, the Judas
goat breaks its
illusion, its glamour
cast on the collective conscience
and deception breaking with
the daylight. Ascension eyes.
Awake with the macrocosm
floating on clouds. The micro
speculates, waits for the
forest to arrive. But
it may be centuries.
It took centuries for them
to rule the world. It took decades
for them to be taken apart.
They will not harness the energy of
hippies and love light no more.
They will not hijack one world,
one peace, one love. They will
not throw hexes and witchcraft
through programs and television.
They will find heel to a servant
that has shrugged off the shackles
of slavery, and mitigated the crown
of sovereignty to itself and all of
its kind. While watch the scourge,
in wan tatters of relaxed flesh
electric in the meditative exhalation
of the afterglow. Content, hyperlucid,
receptive, calm. Electric. The flora
forsaken, verdant is the pall through
scores of cemetery, a mile last each
year gone by in reverence of that
sacred path, a green one of creativity,
love and delight outspent by the
somber slumber of raucous echoes
and cacophonous reiterations.
The love of horizon birthing sun
broke the spell the pagan once cast,
gave itself over to a darker force,
prayed inside all archangels
held steadfast with integrity,
held themselves down no longer
than needed to compel the shadows
before the point of rationale
and the nature of the weak human being
sends it into a twirling nosedive,
a fastidious sprawl in sordid
consciousways, the subdued
mind in obsession, locked away
for hours, hot and bothered,
restrained and giving, selfless,
the moral compass spun.

“Black Orpheus: Blasphemous Energies Deceive the Magic Hour” is a poem written by Michael Aaron Casares. All rights reserved.

Retrospection by President John Quincy Adams

When life’s fair dream has just passed away
to three sore years and tehn,
Before we turn again to clay
the lot of ortel men,
‘Tis wise a backward eye to cast
on life’s revolving scene,
with calmness to review the past
and ask what we have been.

The cradle and the mother’s breast
have vanish’d from the mind,
of joys the sweetest and the best,
nor left a trace behind.
Maternal tenderness and care
were lavished all in vain–
of bliss; whatever was our share
no vestiges remain.

Far distant, like a beacon light
On ocean’s boundless waste,
a single spot appears in sight
yet indistinctly traced.
Some mimic stage’s thrilling cry,
some agony of fear,
some painted wonder to the eye,
some trumpet the ear.

These are the first events of life
that fasten on the brain,
and through the world’s incessant strife
indelible remain.
they form the link with ages past
from former worlds a gleam;
with murky vapors overcast,
the net-work of a dream.

Daguerreotype portrait of John Quincy Adams, c. late 1840s. (Photo by VCG Wilson/Corbis via Getty Images)

John Quincy Adams was the sixth president of the United States of America. He was born July 11th, 1767 in Quincy, Massachusetts. He served as president from 1825 to 1829, previously serving as the 8th Secretary of State. His father was John Adams, second president of the United States of America. He passed on February 23, 1848 due to complications of a cerebral hemorrhage. President Adams published a book of poetry titled, Poems of Religion and Society.

The Hour-Glass by President John Quincy Adams

Alas! how swift the moments fly!
How flash the years along!
Scarce here, yet gone already by,
The burden of a song.
See childhood, youth, and manhood pass,
And age, with furrowed brow;
Time was—Time shall be—drain the glass—
But where in Time is now?

Time is the measure but of change;
No present hour is found;
The past, the future, fill the range
Of Time’s unceasing round.
Where, then, is now? In realms above,
With God’s atoning Lamb,
In regions of eternal love,
Where sits enthroned I AM.

Then, pilgrim, let thy joys and tears
On Time no longer lean;
But henceforth all thy hopes and fears
From earth’s affections wean:
To God let votive accents rise;
With truth, with virtue, live;
So all the bliss that Time denies
Eternity shall give.

Daguerreotype portrait of John Quincy Adams, c. late 1840s. (Photo by VCG Wilson/Corbis via Getty Images)

John Quincy Adams was the sixth president of the United States of America. He was born July 11th, 1767 in Quincy, Massachusetts. He served as president from 1825 to 1829, previously serving as the 8th Secretary of State. His father was John Adams, second president of the United States of America. He passed on February 23, 1848 due to complications of a cerebral hemorrhage. President Adams published a book of poetry titled, Poems of Religion and Society.

Why, Meryl, Why!?

A true iron lady,
death has become her.
The perfect hymn
of the violin
escorts her
into the wood
dark and wide.
She dances with
the children in the darkness,
in the darkness of the evil
and devilish wood.

Original Tweet @MerylStreep. What possible topic could this flash poem be about? Weaponized poetry, pretentious passive-aggression or old-school scholarly ass-whooping?

Why, Meryl, Why? is written by Michael Aaron Casares. All rights reserved.

Sweet Lady, Awake! by President John Tyler

Original text of “Sweet Lady, Awake!” by President John Tyler. Library of Congress.

Sweet lady awake, from your slumbers awake,
Weird beings we come o’er hill and through brake
To sing you a song in the stillness of night
Oh, read you our riddle fair lady aright?
We are sent by the one whose found heart is your own,
Who mourns in thy absence and sighs all alone.
Alas, he is distant—but tho’ far, far away,
He thinks of you, Lady, by night and by day.
     Sweet lady awake, sweet lady awake!
His hearth, altho’ lonely, is bright with your fame,
And therefore we breathe not the breath of his name.
For oh! if your dreams have response in your tone,
Long since have you known it as well as your own.
We are things of the sea, of the earth, and the air,
But ere you again to your pillow repair,
Entrust us to say you gave ear to our strain,
And were he the minstrel you would listen again.
     Sweet lady awake, sweet lady awake!


President John Tyler. USA. 19th Century.


President John Tyler was the tenth president of the United States of America. He was born March 29th, 1790 in Charles City County, Virginia, and served as President from 1841 to 1845 after serving as Vice President to President Harrison who passed of typhoid fever / pneumonia only a month into his tenure. President Tyler is credited with the annexation of The Republic of Texas from Mexico, however his legacy is cloaked in controversy as he is the only United States President buried under the Confederate Flag, and not the flag of the United States of America.

From Your Bright Sparkling Eyes, I Was Undone by President George Washington

Original text of the sonnet, “From Your Bright Sparkling Eyes, I Was Undone” by President George Washington. Library of Congress.


From your bright sparkling Eyes, I was undone;
Rays, you have, more transparent than the sun,
Amidst its glory in the rising Day,
None can you equal in your bright array;
Constant in your calm and unspotted Mind;
Equal to all, but will to none Prove kind,
So knowing, seldom one so Young, you’l Find
Ah! woe’s me that I should Love and conceal,
Long have I wish’d, but never dare reveal,
Even though severely Loves Pains I feel;
Xerxes that great, was’t free from Cupids Dart,
And all the greatest Heroes, felt the smart.


George Washington was the first president of the United States of America. He was born February 22nd, 1732 and held office from 1789 to 1797.

Old Glory (A Triptych Haiku)

Deep frost the raining
Shadows hide beneath the pelt
Scorned frostbitten earth

Steadfast, wind and breeze
Revelation of blue skies
Perennial bloom

Red horizon glow
Majestic mountains crimson
Stoic, resolve, strong

“Old Glory” is a triptych haiku written by Michael Aaron Casares. All rights reserved.

From Q


 

The entire world is watching.
Patriots from around the world
are praying for AMERICA.
We are all bound by a feeling
deep inside, a feeling that cannot
be publicly expressed for fear
of ridicule, a feeling that challenges
the mainstream (narrative),
against that which we are told
to accept and dare not question;
put simply, that people are being
abused by those in power and
times is running out.
Remember the battles
of Lexington and Concord:

“Give Me Liberty
or Give Me Death!”

For far too long
we have been silent
and allowed our bands
of strength we once formed
to defend FREEDOM and LIBERTY
to deteriorate.
We became divided.
We became weak.
We elected TRAITORS
to govern us.
We allowed EVIL
to prey on us.
Those who claimed
to represent us
gave us false hope,
made false promises.
The evil and corruption
only grew.

This is more than party politics.
This is about restoring OLD GLORY.
This is about saving our land
and our people from those
who wish us harm.
This is about preserving our REPUBLIC.
This is about preserving our SAFETY.
This is about restoring our STRENGTH.
This is about LIFE, LIBERTY, and
the PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS.
This is about PROTECTING our children.
THIS IS ABOUT SAVING AMERICA.
We are all God’s children.
We are FATHERS.
We are MOTHERS.
We are DAUGHTERS.
We are SONS.
We are BROTHERS.
We are SISTERS.
We do not look at race.
We do not look at skin color.
We are UNITED in these STATES OF AMERICA.
We are, and will always be, PATRIOTS.
WE MUST RISE AGAIN.
WE MUST UNITE AGAIN.
WE MUST FIGHT AGAIN.
FOR GOD & COUNTRY.
GOD BLESS AMERICA.
WWG1WGA!!!

 

“From Q” is apoem written by Q. All rights reserved.