what is a turbinado
and how did it get in my coffee?
this question stirs and
then dissolves
my mind needs a mulligan
just one day that doesn't
crash test my brain
and blow out air bags
or leave me punch drunk
from the rope-a-dope news
a la Ali with me praying
for the bell
can we go back to simpler times?
like Nixon Vietnam and
the National Guard opening fire
on students at Kent State?
OK no bad plan
Manson no no not that
either good god no
'38 and Kristallnacht
gaaah! There's no end!
Rawanda Cambodia Sri Lanka
the Armenian Genocide and
The Terror of the French Revolution
this is not going well
my poem not yielding up
the calm surface of Haiku –
Old Pond blooms with scum
fine no headlines today
no nervous sounds of clicking
like the tiny claws of squirrels
scrambling across the shingles
I'll just read about science
this piece on no my god
Murder Hornets
and they are orange too
like stinging lights
behind the eyes
of a four-year long
concussion
The Sunday Muse
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qbit 
I love every word of this one. It’s perfect in its mad, uneven tempo, its surreal use of image, and its total encapsulation of the current mood–who isn’t looking back in history for comfort that these things go away, these “four-year-long concussions” right now–and who isn’t taken aback by all the evidence of every human historic crime scene waiting to be found. I particularly liked “.. no headlines today/ no nervous sounds of clicking/ like the tiny claws of squirrels/ scrambling across the shingles..” –made the hairs rise. Excellent piece, qbit–spot on and full of juice.
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Thank-you so much!
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I should fess up … I put the turbinado in your coffee this morning! Mine too. I needed that sugar high to match the skyrocket high I got from the poem you wrote. Cheers.
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So it was *you*! LOLOL!
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I think we all can relate to the feelings that are so perfectly displayed here Qbit! You have out done yourself!! I love love love this and am heading to the store to get me my own coffee with a turbinado shot!
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sensei reads qbit
seeks mastery over self
opens mind hard way
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ROFL!!!!
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BTW, that is a terrific Haiku. Just sayin’
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I found myself actually chuckling at the litany of disaster you found while sipping your morning coffee. We have lived through our share of calamities, have we not. It did not escape my notice that the “hornets were orange too”. Nice little political comment there. Kudos for this one, and a big Bravo too!
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Lol!
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“Old Pond blooms with scum.” I love it. I so relate to this poem……seems as if the human experiment has failed. Should we not have evolved by now? The four year long concussion – yes. I feel like I am emerging from an abusive relationship. Yet I still hear his voice……gah.
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Yep.
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A Health Nut dobbed the bottom of your cup with massive amounts of turbinado. But that won’t hurt you now and hen, perhaps a sugar high. Reading sciences is the least harmful of all the above. This is a nice write, fun for a while. Oh ues, Nutella will leave a nice chocolatey taste and all will be well.
..
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Mo’ Nutella!
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Ahhhh, sugar! Ba ba ba ba ba awe honey honey. Sorry, can’t help myself sometimes.
A four year concussion. ! Indeed.
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Lolol! That was great.
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Love every word of this. I’ve been with you in that four year concussion. Thank God for poetry, for art, for the best in people we stumble upon because hate gets the biggest headlines.
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Outstanding poem, q! We need to create “the good old days” ourselves.
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