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Showing posts with label Anne Herrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne Herrick. Show all posts

Sunday, June 21, 2026

UPON THE BEAUTY OF COLOR

by Anne Herrick


Ducks Likely OK As Trump Admin Dumps Hydrogen Peroxide Into Green Reflecting Pool —HuffPost, June 19, 2026


Days after his administration claimed the pool was actually “crystal clear,” despite an unmistakably green hue, the US president acknowledged issues—and, without evidence, blamed foul play. —The Guardian, June 20, 2026



Who doesn’t agonize over color

for a kitchen, bathroom, house siding,

a fence, the front door? Or

even the color for a pool, to make

it bright, enticing, exciting.

So you try strolling down past doors

and walls in Ireland, Italy, Mexico,  

or find yellows in Van Gogh’s flowers

his blues in Starry Night, perhaps examine

the deep and bright reds of Kahlo,

or even view the wide selection

of Monet’s greens. Some study flags,

like the yellow and blue of Ukraine,

the red, white, and blue of the UK,

or, for that matter, of proudly independent

America—the blue perfect to highlight

a very long pool, a tourist attraction

feting a famous president,

and perfect, too, to invite the beauty

of algae, that emerald green 

celebrating warmth, humidity, and sun.

Yes—such is the power of summer energy,

it gifts green to water, and even peels

blue paint, encouraging new tourists, 

ducks, to fly in for a visit hoping it is a snack

of duckweed, while men and women 

in waders, scoop and scoop, day after day,

until the pool eventually becomes dry.

Until, in fact it will lie still in peace

in its comfortable century-old familiar

worn grey coat.

 

 

Anne Herrick has published a few poems and prose in the US and UK.

Thursday, May 07, 2026

I AM THE VERY MODEL OF A MODERN MAJOR-GENERAL

by Anne Herrick


AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News.

 

I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I've information of minerals and anything profitable
I know the constitution, and I quote our rights historical
From Iran to Venezeula, in order categorical;
I'm very well acquainted, too, with my good navy piratical,
I understand blockades, both the simple and impractical,
About strategies I teem with ever changing views and news,
And with many cheerful facts about every missile use.

I'm very good at destruction and anything that’s tactical;
I know all leader’s names no matter they’re fantastical—
like those in space—the squirrels and hypotheticals—
I am the very model of a modern Major-General.

 

In fact, I know what is meant by "bitter end" and "ravelin",
And I can tell at sight a Beretta from a javelin,
With affairs like bombings and boasting I'm very good at,
I also know precisely what is meant by "commissariat",
Yes, I know what progress has been made in modern gunnery,
And I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery—
In short, I've more than a smattering of elemental strategy—
No other Major-General has ever had this capacity.

With my military knowledge, I'm plucky and adventury,
There’s no-one as good as me since beginning of all centuries
Yes it’s true—I know of minerals and anything that’s profitable
I am the greatest model of a modern Major-General.

 

 

Anne Herrick has published a few poems and prose in the US and UK.

Thursday, January 22, 2026

MY COUNTRY FOR A MEDAL

by Anne Herrick


Partially based on lines from Shakespeare's Richard III, Act 5



Cartoon by Ann Telnaes

My medal, 

            my medal!  

                        America undone for my medal.

 

            Forsooth, sire, I will assist you

            in claiming this precious gold

 

Loyalist, I have lain my life upon this medal

I have set seven squabbles to peace—

Nay—I have in fact settled eight.

I must therefore have my medal.  

I will, I must, doom America for my medal.

 

Courageous Sire, it is Norway 

which has undone your gold,

I must find the wretch 

that decreed the providence of this prize

 

Great God of Heaven, say amen to all!

I will usurp, I will slay, this Danish bloody dog

which hath denied what has always been my due.

I will pluck this traitor’s foreign Greenland

and put its gold upon my oval mantelpiece.

 

            On bended knee I needs say, my Gracious Sire 

            that Denmark is not quite where is Norway —

            it is avowedly smallest, in the cold North Sea.

 

Oh, Slave, I will choose who is to blame.

I will push Denmark to weep in streams of blood.

I will save Greenland from Denmark’s yoke of tyranny,

dig far into the bowels of its land,

will cast its destiny with the doomed dome of America.

I know that true hope flies with swallow’s wings,
that it is the meaner creatures that make kings.



Anne Herrick has published a few poems and prose in the US and UK.