Friday, October 30, 2026

Motherhood: Poem

 

Motherhood

Where do you work? –

At the snack distribution factory

And the laundry fairy.

Also, as Uber driver

And a therapist handler.

All before noon –

A referee, a nurse, and a chef

Because it is cool.

Besides, the hot girl

Is a money manager and the elf,

Taking care of business and self.

She trained to work

For internal and external use.

No need to keep out of rich

For husband and children.

Hot girls are for professional use. –

Intended thoroughly

Unfold the directions

For continuing education

In the area of neighborhood

With sweet and kind motherhood.

Tomshinsky@2026

Rude Lady: Poem

 

Rude Lady

I am a nice person.

If you see me

Calling someone out,

It is probably justified.

When I run in

With not-a-nice lady on the phone. –

Why did she call me rude?

I told her the truth.

She was not raised right.

She knows how to fight,

Rude and disrespectful,

Will not take you to the safe places.

Scammer faces

Climb high fences

To be rude and disrespectful.

Tomshinsky@2026

Thursday, October 29, 2026

Folklore Verbal Art: Essay

 

Folklore Verbal Art

One night, the stories went visiting. In the old days, stories did not always stay in books. Before Guttenberg invented printed books, and the scribers copied the stories in dark caves with a candle fire with a goose feather and ink, there were people who could not read. These stories were not written. They were told verbally. Sometimes stories come from the hidden places of folklore, mythology, and legends.

It was an ancient tradition. When one night, the stories went visiting. After all the work was done in the harvest season, people knocked at the door. As usual, they did not give a name. They were dressed in masks and costumes. They gave a rhyme, or a song, or a small act right there, at the doorsteps at the porch’s light.

The old stories survived, they were carried door to door, month to mouth, through the dark of the evening. The elderly of the families took the stories inside and continued to sing folklore songs and ancient stories to youngsters at the table. The legends passed from one generation to another verbally and survived centuries a part.

An anthropology, “folklore as verbal art” term refers to the oral, literary forms, a tradition such as myth, legends, proverbs, riddles, and folk songs. They are transmitted by word of mouth, distinct from material or customary folklore. William Bascom, a prominent American folklorist, proposed that in anthropological usage as folklore can defined as “verbal art.” This term was invented to distinguish the literary aspect from folklore form of cultural expressions like folk costumes, dances, or ritual.

The Judeo-Christian Bible reveals its oral traditional roots as well as medieval European manuscripts that are penned by performing scribes. Even the geometric vases from ancient Greece mirror Homer’s oral style. One night, the stories went visiting. From newborn lullabies to ancient ceremonies at the funeral, we are surrounded by folklore verbal art. Tomshinsky@2026

Melodies and Memories: Poem

 Melodies and Memories

When you are missing

Someone the most,

You know the best

That a butterfly and the weather,

A cardinal and the feather,

Or a song

Can feel the sign to belong

Like a gentle reminder

And the universe secret finder.

Out of the blue,

I think about you.

Sometimes, a little bird,

A gentle melody

Like the true love memory

Never fades.

Beautiful melodies

Like best memories

Live forever in tending hearts.

Tomshinsky@2026

Sunday, October 25, 2026

Forest Friends: Poem

 

Forest Friends

Forest friendships lays
In the most unexpected ways.
Sweet and cheerful little footsteps
Gentle hearts hop and run
Without any headphones,
Just use the senses and little time.
Little honey boney hops.
Bambi looks for friends to play,
And a hungry fox is on a hunt for prey.
Here comes a night
When the deep woods
Welcome the bright fool moon light.
Forest threshold
Always howls some secrets.
Inside the hollow tree
Live a tiny squirrel free.
There is a snail
On the forest trail.
Friends of forest
Are the small wonders.
Every marvel awe and ponders.
Tomshinsky@2026

Friday, October 23, 2026

Poet Is Not a Job: Poem

 

Poet Is Not a Job

A poet is not a job.

There is no time to sob.

Oak acorn is not a tree

But autumn makes

All the leaves look like flowers

Because every season has powers.

Do I have a five-year plan?

I am learning to open a can.

I want to identify birds

By their songs,

Collect beautiful stones

That reminds me of oak acorns.

A poet is not a job.

I do not have time to sob.

Paper, ink, and ideas that pop up

Make a story come up.

This is the job to be about.

Tomshinsky@2026

Thursday, October 22, 2026

Flip Flap: Poem

 

Flip Flap

Flip, flap, and fly.

Get well soon and fly.

Give me a big kiss.

It has been coming for a long time.

Flip, flop, and fly.

Please, do not cry.

Keep your eyes dry!

Just jump and fly.

For everything is its own time.

Let’s fly!

You can bring me down

Anytime,

When the time is right. –

Flip, flap, and fly.

Tomshinsky@2026