RKS Poetry Anthology: “Beans and toast panic attack at Singapore Shangri-La”

Beans and toast panic attack at Singapore Shangri-La

Newly arrived the previous night at the awesome Shangri-La Singapore

27 hours travelling perhaps more

Could hardly raise a snore

Float half senseless to buffet breakfast at The Line

A quick peek on the way to the table

My goodness this must be some gastronomical fable

Asian, Indian and “International” cuisine beautifully laid out

Absolutely no reason possible to pout

Head straight for chicken congee

Causing me to muse YIPEE!

Observe a Brit with panic in his eye

I’m thinking he’s about to keel over and die

Urging a waiter to guide him to a breakfast he “could eat at home”

Returns with a big grin gone the panicked look and plate loaded high

With The Full Monty

Bacon, sausages, eggs, fried tomatoes, fried bread and black pudding

Despite you are in Singapore Mr. Brit

And nearly had a fatal culinary hit

How can you eat that ****

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Where can those Americans in Singapore be?”

Where can those Americans in Singapore be?

They choke the streets in Barcelona

Making the locals moana

They flood Venice and Rome

Thank God with McDonalds they feel at home

They storm Paris congregating at the Eiffel Tower mouths agape pointing up and down

Some locals begin to frown

They flock about in London searching for a glimpse of the King

Most wearing running shoes walking with a spring

Where are they in Singapore?

Hardly any I have seen and throughout the city I been

Have they already been there and boarded their cruise ship

In time for the midnight chocolate buffet?

Not making sense

as usually they are in throngs so dense

reluctantly I get dragged to The Raffles for a Singapore Sling

I see them now talking up a storm their dress and accents giving them away

They are all in a lineup for the Long Bar for their Sling fling

But at $44USD a pop that price makes my head explode

I’m hopping outta this place like a toad

If you are in Singapore missing your friends from the States

To the Raffles you should go

Comfortable in a nationalist glow!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Spare change required for Harry”

Spare change required for Harry

Ex-commed by Daddy King

Short on cash

Time for Kardashian strategy

But difficult as no breasts to bare

So controversy, scandal, tabloid fodder

Skills limited to paparazzi cultivation

Must be maintained in the limelight

Back in the royal graces your chances are slim

So give it all up and partner with Kim!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Set the alarm”

Set the alarm

Agonizing daybreak

Punch your timecard in the slot of mockery

Distant from the Club Med

Packaged release

Can be cached

When the rat trap salesman and the countess

Frolic in the bathtubs of seedy motels

 While fantasy hawkers crouch behind the armchair teasing pulsating veins

Praise aortas!

Alas it beats

Arduously battling nagging multitudes of cigarettes and

Imaginary confrontations

The ticking of nuclear warhead pregnant

With screaming alarms

Monotonous begging chant

Summoning the high priestess of the pillow

To honour yesterday’s victims

Comforting with several hours of respite

Not warranted and no money returned if not satisfied

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Honeymoon at Saratoga Springs (Circa 1961)”

Honeymoon at Saratoga Springs (Circa 1961)

Well it certainly was quite a day

Let’s go to bed

Wait!

I’ve got to brush my teeth

You already did

Come on why don’t we go for a walk

But it’s two o’clock in the morning

Oh all right

Turn off the light and look the other way

o.k.

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology: “Dedication to a bus driver that will never know”

Dedication to a bus driver that will never know

Blank paper makes as much sense

As the music of the turnstiles

Constant inflow and outflow

Fail to distract the frustration

And the odious comfort of mesmerizing pacing

Brings minimal solace

As

Insanity claps the narrow ledge

Of its opposite sister

Masses of flesh ooze their way

To compartmentalized hopelessness

A man makes love to his whisky bottle

Amidst the red eyed concert goers who mumble by

The greedy chocolate smeared wretches

Who annoy with mimicked telescreened adventures

Eros remains helpless joylessly suffocating

While Thanatos gleefully offers an exit and frustrated young poets

Sit in buses unable to meet the 5 year plan of literature

Futilely attempting to explain all

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Sports: Up the Mekong into the Heart of Darkness: An Evening in the Heart of THE LEAF NATION

Given the conflagration occurring in the Middle East with missiles and drones flying here and there one might say there was militarism in the air or at least on the CNN/FOX/CBC airwaves. My goodness even the Grand Pouba fell as a martyr in the heat of the moment but was no doubt dancing with the Seven Virgins as the Iranian population danced in the streets to his send off.

I had received an invitation into a secret society, a tiny fragment of THE LEAF NATION just down the street.

THE LEAF NATION refers to fans of the National Hockey League team the Toronto Maple Leafs. From whence emanated this term?  No doubt some marketing firm hired by a television network to create an illusion of the presence and power of a “national organization” dedicated to the love and awe of the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey team. How can THE LEAF NATION be a national organization of Canadians when Vancouver, Calgary, Winnipeg, Ottawa and Montreal also have National League Hockey teams?

I was raised in Montreal at a time when the Montreal Canadiens of the National Hockey League were an awesome professional sports team winning Stanley Cups on a regular basis. They have won 24 Stanley Cups in their franchise history. The Toronto Maple Leafs have won 13 and the last one in 1967. Montreal’s last Stanley Cup was in 1993. Needless to say although I rarely watch hockey these days my need for Montreal to excel and the Toronto Maple Leafs to fail is deeply ingrained in my genetics and psychological makeup. A bit like OCD. I can’t stop myself!

The Toronto Maple Leafs have been sputtering about since 1967 and The Montreal Canadiens since 1993 but this year their team looks like a Stanley Cup contender whereas at best in “On the Waterfront” fashion the Toronto Maple Leafs must be croaking in a Marlon Brando fashion, “ I coudda been a contender”. The Toronto Maple Leafs are sinking in an embarrassing quicksand unlikely to make the playoffs. One sports commentator said a couple of weeks ago in the past few years the Toronto Maple Leafs were the team being chased now they are chasing. Given their 4th straight loss last night they have descended for a race to the basement in the standings. Their legs have given out.

So I begin musing as I walk to the ground zero of my invitation during a regional “conflict”. I feel akin to Martin Sheen in “Apocalypse Now” cruising up the Mekong for a final termination of Colonel Kurtz. I am heading into “enemy territory” and query if the three gentlemen attending are to welcome me in an “Eyes Wide Shut” fashion? Or are they wild Montagnards?

Thank goodness none of the three gentlemen attending are in robes holding candles. There is no attempt to conceal their identities. PHEW!

There is a fellow named K2 who claims to be married to Barbie but this is unverifiable. The G is a former Canadian Football League Grey Cup champion. K is our host a man knowing more about cheese than the entire LEAF NATION!

G and K2 are sporting Toronto Maple Leaf paraphernalia and K2 has an enormous mug with a Toronto Maple Leafs logo on it. K is neutral wearing a CANADA hoodie.

As for a foamy beverage I could have selected a Molson Export, the Molson Brewery heavily involved with the Montreal Canadiens, but play it safe and open a Mexican Modelo. All these guys are dentists and if I misbehave and criticize the Toronto Maple Leafs will I be held hostage for a retributory root canal?

As the fireplace spreads its cheerful glow the Toronto Maple Leafs are soiling themselves being outplayed and outshot by the Ottawa Senators.

Wait a minute! The members of THE LEAF NATION are making some disparaging and sarcastic comments about their beloved Toronto Maple Leafs. A consensus develops they will not be in the playoffs this year. WHAT AM I HEARING! THE LEAF NATION, like Austin Mathews, without Mitch Marner (unwisely traded by the Toronto Maple Leafs) is showing serious foundational damage. Am I dealing with a rebel faction of THE LEAF NATION where watching FOX News reporting of the Iranian conflict takes precedence over the third period?

Silly me as I walk home down the street. There is no LEAF NATION. The statistics and my evening verify this. THE LEAF NATION is but a dream and if any remnants remain, they will soon realize watching and cheering for the Montreal Canadiens is the more humane and realistic path forward.

I no longer feel like Martin Sheen but more like Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu ministering to some victims of THE LEAF NATION!

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: LIBERATION DAY: NAKED BEFORE THE QUEEN: LOSING A BODY PART

LIBERATION DAY: NAKED BEFORE THE QUEEN: LOSING A BODY PART

Bob mentioned to me in his law school days one of his professors told his class the utmost honesty was a must for Canadian lawyers. If you ever had to explain yourself just imagine you were standing naked before the Queen! Monarchist dribble by today’s standards but he made his point!

So while watching the Iran hostilities being explained on television this morning Bob removed my cone and to do so my collar necessitated removal and talking about feeling naked. It was if I had lost a body part.

I moaned, groaned, rolled around and had a few intense scratches and soon realized I had not lost a body part instead being LIBERATED hopefully like the Iranians from a murderous theocracy.

My morning walk was exhilarating as the breeze swept my face, no snow becoming caught in my cone and being ready and able to puppy fight although no puppy buddies on this walk.

And my water and kibble bowl a la volonté instead of hand feeding and water drinking with a bowl mashed up near my snout.

The funky cone smell disappeared!

I can roar around the backyard once again without Bob and Fay worrying about me busting a gusset!

Life can be so good as a puppy!