Goose (an acrostic poem)

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Getting aggressive during play fighting

Oblivious to the dangers at hand

Outside the air was turbulent with drama

Such that the only thing you could do to get out of the spinning rut was eject from the situation.

Except that damn glass ceiling got in the way, killing any hope of promotion

Range (an acrostic poem)

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Risking it all on a forty-footer

And as the basketball left her hand, the clocks went to all zeroes

Now it was now all physics, the skill was already committed

Google clutch, and it would show this shot if it goes in

Everyone waited seemingly forever as the ball bounced on the rim once, twice…

Thor (an acrostic poem)

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The lightning and thunder are at his command

His hand holding a spinning Mjolnir

Outside he looks like he is as calm as the eye of a hurricane

Reality was the true storm was raging inside

Chance (an acrostic poem)

Converting luck into action

He tossed the spinning dice from his hand

And as they flew through the air, probabilities spun with them

Not collapsing the distribution curve until done with their dance

Cascading all possibilities into a single outcome

Everything random transforms into fate

Technology (an acrostic poem)

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The mathmagicians cast their spell of logic

Electrical and mechanical design engineers took that energy and gave it physical form

Constructing a simulacrum of silicon and glass

Handing it off to the whisperers of binary

Now they coded in the soul and function of the new beast

Ordering the chaos of all the possibilities of this new creation

Lifting it from an inanimate object

Obscuring the line between animated and animator

Giving the world a new fascination that

You can hold in your hand

Bones (an acrostic poem)

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Been shaking the pair in my hand and wondering

Obviously the way they land is random

Now that wasn’t an appealing thought

Every ounce of him wanted to believe in luck, that now was his time

So when they came up snake eyes, he knew he had been right

Tool (an acrostic poem)

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The hammer felt so good in his calloused hand

Only that didn’t seem enough for this task

Opening up the metal box he reached in and pulled out a larger hammer

Looking at his source of frustration he grinned and went to work “fixing it”

Liberty (an acrostic poem)

 

Leaving the chains behind is just the start 

It means helping the formerly enslaved stand up 

Being there to lend a hand in moving forward 

Enabling them to not only survive but thrive 

Reach for those hands across the divide 

Trust that the world will be better in the long run 

You can help bring justice for all 

 

 

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Banana (an acrostic poem)

 

Be tropical, my friends, and call on Saint Belafonte

Allow me to give you a hand with your breakfast to go

Now I know you find me appealing

Ah, but I can be slippery when I’m underfoot

Now come, Mr. Tallyman

And tally me, ‘cause daylight come and I want to go home

 

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