“Epazote Stalks Serenade Spring”

(March 28, 2019)

epazote* stalks

ready-to-bloom reminds me

must make chili soon

*(Epazote, like most if not all our food plants or herbs is a weed. It grows in spoil-lands wherever its fluttery streamer seeds take early Spring wind. It is natal from Panama to New York City’s Central Park, though in most polite – and sadly untutored sites – it is pulled as the weed it is and left to rot. Better to cut off the seed head (pre-deadheading I shall declaim you, since you want not to draw all the plant’s power to reproduction and keep it in the stem) and plop chunks into simmering bean dishes of which chili is a mainstay. Takes away athleticism anally if you get my drift. Eat legumes remain unmusical, so say its aficionados and Central American and Southern cooks from Texas to The Carolinas. Dry the parts you put not into your beanpots. The seeds, like those from other flowering weeds will float everywhere. Although some say it’s “an acquired taste” and claim Epazote is an analog of turpentine – which is a canard true and flightless – it is full of ascorbic acid…which will not get your high but chase off any attempts at scurvy…it’s chock-full of Vitamin C, in longer words. And it tastes just fine on its own. So, there!)

“Book-Racin’ A Great Game”

“March 28, 2019)

call it book racin’*

fall in and throw a word-wake

world no longer is

*(When I found out the junior high school at which I was sentenced early in the century’s sixth decade I escaped music class by claiming I needed help reading. I got help. Instead of a mere 250 words-per-minute with a miserly 75-percent retention rate I left eighth grade puttering along near 600 wpm with a retention rate broaching 90th percentile’s rare waters. Then I found a speed reading paperback in Mister Fannin’s classrom bookshelf and asked if I could take it home…”that’s what they’re there for, J,” the kindly teacher who saw through my sham at first glance when I took the introductory test. I later found a tattered used copy of the same book – and when I go ‘brary-diving later this year mayhap I will find it again amidst the several thousand friends boxed or shelved in a way-out-back storage room. Then I gladly will share the title for any other young lad or lass who needs to escape a scrape with music…so much like math. I confess right here and now I am so much better at after-math!)

Haiku – 3/29/2019

Anthony Renfro’s Pme {pet Ranting blog (haiku and poetry) is from a North Carolina stay-at-home dad, self-publishing shortstory and novelist scribbler: reader, writer, runner and, one assumes, in his munificent spare time also washes windows/walks dogs. For his supper he will write you a short story. So far when I see an A. Renfro notice or pass his way to mine own hovel I stop and smell the sun-kissed blossoms. You might, too.

One Writer Ranting

Trees covered in white

Kissed by the sun’s warming rays

Bright blossoms rejoice

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Midnight tango


  • Let’s
  • Tango
  • In stardust
  • Where twilight’s flame Soaks breath in ambrosial rain
  • Novae sparkling in moon glow’s cosmic tint
  • Souls exploding
  • Into love’s
  • Ardent glow
  • As
  • Stars ink
  • Silken lines
  • Eclipsing night’s
  • Interlude touch push pause dark to light
  • Like runes embellishing passing milestones
  • Vignette keynotes
  • Become songs
  • That ring
  • True.
  • #tetracyt

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    The wind


  • I listen to the wind as it rocks and rolls,
  • Over meadows, brooks, mountains, knolls.
  • The wind looks to the grass and trees to sing,
  • Stories the sky and clouds to the earth , bring.
  • Ancient fables of seasons that spring,
  • Tales of Mother Earth’s awakening.
  • Flowers breathe into the air.. glorious scents .
  • Gossamer lyrical song-bird presents.
  • Quivering voices enchanting the wind ,
  • Rainbow of imaginings spilling, tinged.
  • Vocalizing haiku- sun struck birds,
  • Draping breaths, ardor stirred.
  • Birds, bees, butterflies, slip-sliding,
  • Down garden paths brightly painting.
  • The wind beguiles my eyes, ruffles my hair,
  • Tasseled zephyr wands bestowing happiness everywhere.
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    “Table Matters”

    (March 25, 2019)

    Be ‘ware of easy

    of any kind, even salt*

    and of course people

    *(Often-times you find additives to table salt – added to make pouring easier. SayWhat? Lessen you got old wounds needing refreshing-ment, who pour salt easy? ‘Sposed to be bad for you that much salt, neh? Then, why do our major mass market media continue to try to get everyone pouring salt on old fake wounds? Beats me. Musta been someting encoded in J-School DNA. I made the mistake of studying journalism once upon a time but I did take advantage of a free-rein on any other courses that caught my eye: grad-school grammer was one example of a course not crossed, but still intrigues. Psychology of Women sewed more confusion than it repaired; Agrarian Myth was like studying the wrong way to read history…and so on.)