Plume of Cockatoo Press: Plume of Cockatoo Press

Plume of Cockatoo Press

Plume of Cockatoo Press

http://sites.google.com/site/plumeofcockatoopress

The Seeds of the Rhozidichichron

In Memory of My Grandmother

Bertha Wallace Farr

"Rhozidichichron seeds, they ripen not,

nor do they thrust and heave up to the sun,"

my mother's mother dreamed.  One night she shot

bolt upright in her bed.  "I am the one,"

she thought, "for the annunciation of

a secret that was sealed like the tomb

of that boy God, descended from above,

who placed that seed that ripens not."  Her womb

was in her mind that dark of night.  She wrote

it down and then she fell asleep.  Perverse!

When morning came, she looked down at her note

and saw the secret of the universe.

The Dreamtime universe may be a game,

but God puts seeds in mothers just the same.

Copyright - Robin Ridington

October 14, 2008

Plume of Cockatoo Press: Robin Ridington's Homepage

Plume of Cockatoo Press: Robin Ridington's Homepage

http://sites.google.com/site/plumeofcockatoopress

The Meltdown

Here's a new sonnet on the current economic crisis.

(Copyright 2008 Robin Ridington)

The Meltdown

The dismal science economics is

or is it are?  Them perps in suits and ties

shut down our sunshine.  Is Tireseus

depending on their truth or on their lies,

or simply on the simple way things are?

The Dow is down, reflecting Adam's fall

from Heaven's grace.  The Serpent in a bar

says, "Have another drink, and here's to all

the bozos who invested in the dream

of ponzo, gonzo, Morgan Stanley.  Piss

on them and on their progeny."  The scheme

collapses, lapses, detumescent hiss

of smiling serpents and economists

whose dismal science sadly is remiss.

Robin Ridington  - October 7, 2008

Robin Ridington's Homepage

My homepage is http://sites.google.com/site/plumeofcockatoopress

It has some more clips from The Poets Don't Write Sonnets Anymore