Poetry Corner
Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2020 12:20 am
I am posting some of my retinue for friends or curiosity hunters. New ~ since covid. Recent ~ new but before Old. Please add some ya own!!!
New
Part
Isometrically
for lack of an understandable word
this minute yields only this
yet if I call it a poem
it may not run away
Hypothetically it is linked
to a grand panorama of pens
scribbling riches.
Yet I arrive at alas
as though at best part two.
...
to start again is fascinating
because it is caused only by
the curve of courteously refusing
a sinking heart or perhaps
knowing something more is there
then again part one
It is by not making much of all this
such moments have passed before
or was I waiting to be wise enough
to find a way
to say.
I am careful in admitting
it will be brushed aside
just as though it were
never written.
Perhaps
my message
it that it is
good to like
shaking away
a sinking
heart.
Do Not Cry
(for Saoirse)
Too familiar with tears
No matter what you say they fell
And yet you shrug they might as well.
The tears they fall like breathing
While you hang your clothes
They fall while drinking tea
While reading a book
You wipe your cheeks a lot
While following the paragraphs
While watching cars,
While adjusting the curtains
While greeting friends
Who likewise mind their own away
As they fall
It’s just a breeze outside
It’s just a breeze outside
That came inside.
Too familiar with tears
No matter what you say they fell
And yet you shrug they might as well.
Recent
The Don't Look Book
Don’t look around when you are down, don’t look.
Don’t look for help it’s never found, don’t look.
Don’t look up the mountain for hope in the spirit, don’t look.
Don’t look for a place to go to find a friend, don’t look.
Just keep your eyes straight down and hang your head, don’t look.
Don’t you go looking at the beautiful plants and trees
don’t you go playing like you were born free
just remember you will never win
there’s the door but you ain’t get’n in
your dreams are broken and it’s much too late
empty hands, empty shell
broken heart, dark horizon, dreamless sleep
hopeless sunrise, empty day
no one called, no mail in there, don’t look.
Nothing to find in any book
nobody cares so don’t look.
Give it up, ain’t no peace
it’s all disaster and it can’t never be repaired
there’s nothing here and there’s nothing there
the scales of justice are never fair
it ain’t even better up there
nobody knows what it all means
there’s no answer, there’s nothing to find: Don’t Look!
The Four-Storied Heaven
Blind, who could see,
So named by a mindful dad,
Was cross-legged in the storied pagoda
Still at first
He moved to stretch
But announcing shadowplay outstretched itself, too
As though caused by him;
So that he refused for a time.
One less swarthy and you might have said
Fear of Karma.
He remembered reaching the second step on another day,
And pulled his foot up more firmly into his lap.
There is no butterfly effect, he mused,
No sonic boom from a fallen thread.
I Dated the Three Faces of Eve
How brutally kind;
Your mega-faux pas ~ you keep
That offbeat social mistake to yourself!
But love, the vocabulary lesson.
where is my kisses?
Repossession Floozy a hard land of no man
Sinecure the cliche highway
Starch of high strung
Trooper word vagrants
Waltz
She smiles coyly
Like the secret of Delaware baseball mud
Sitting Bull’s grave.
That picturesque 2nd wink of my betrothed,
who runs the show and never shows her face.
Old
Grandmother
I was about to say
that I got everything I needed done
yesterday but
then I remembered grandmother.
She cultivated sunshine.
It was like cooking a turkey
it went on all day.
Her patience with being old
would frustrate me
but her dear smile
overwhelmed me, too.
So, we would sit
she would cultivate sunshine
while I watched Winchell Mahoney
followed by The Mickey Mouse Glee Club
pushing the little button
that made the rotor channel change
on her neat TV.
Then late in midday
she would slice off pieces of the sun
and serve them,
sweet and tender,
to the sparrows.
Book of Genesis
In the beginning there was Jack
Ker - o -auc
and the landlord saw that it WAS good.
Banging the doors
on the Interstate
can't jump out, Jack,
at 90 mph.
The cheap hotel
another lunar landing
was just to the conscience.
And on the second night
the good landlord
gunned down JFK
as the Beatles' plane was landing
feeling high without mercy
on Orwell's Love Field..
HAIR was shown at the Nixon Theater
as the MK-Ultra PTA passionately laced
flowers of love
with LSD/sarin for
the tie dye commune,
and on the third day on a rising sun
when everyone wished
that the clock turned back
Sally rude, rude sally
said may I intrude Mr. Dali
and Bob Dylan slithered forth
with holy ashes
as derelicts tried to lick him
and Bremser banged the table.
and on the fourth night
wax discos waved a magic tangerine
before the host of Harlem Allah
and they sayeth whoosh
that's white man's fruit
we don't believe in a magic tangerine.
The children of the Aquarians
was foaming X-files at the mouth
was foaming X-files at the mouth
and went to sleep
so hungry for their souls
that they tapped their feet
to the sound of rats chewing
their way through Burma.
And they almost spoke out.
But on the fifth day
Political Correctness arose
the skinheads came
as the kids tightened their thongs
a grinning throng
they all breathed together
in strung out crimson leather
and the only conspiracy
as you can see
come back dry
from a chilly sea.
while on the sixth day
a boy scout whistled from Starbucks
he had a petition that made no sense
It seemed to be a plan designed
to steal Social Security
without scaring the seniors.
And the Messiah
was a long time coming.
But the seventh day
was the day of rest
for Mr. Patrick Buchanan.
New
Part
Isometrically
for lack of an understandable word
this minute yields only this
yet if I call it a poem
it may not run away
Hypothetically it is linked
to a grand panorama of pens
scribbling riches.
Yet I arrive at alas
as though at best part two.
...
to start again is fascinating
because it is caused only by
the curve of courteously refusing
a sinking heart or perhaps
knowing something more is there
then again part one
It is by not making much of all this
such moments have passed before
or was I waiting to be wise enough
to find a way
to say.
I am careful in admitting
it will be brushed aside
just as though it were
never written.
Perhaps
my message
it that it is
good to like
shaking away
a sinking
heart.
Do Not Cry
(for Saoirse)
Too familiar with tears
No matter what you say they fell
And yet you shrug they might as well.
The tears they fall like breathing
While you hang your clothes
They fall while drinking tea
While reading a book
You wipe your cheeks a lot
While following the paragraphs
While watching cars,
While adjusting the curtains
While greeting friends
Who likewise mind their own away
As they fall
It’s just a breeze outside
It’s just a breeze outside
That came inside.
Too familiar with tears
No matter what you say they fell
And yet you shrug they might as well.
Recent
The Don't Look Book
Don’t look around when you are down, don’t look.
Don’t look for help it’s never found, don’t look.
Don’t look up the mountain for hope in the spirit, don’t look.
Don’t look for a place to go to find a friend, don’t look.
Just keep your eyes straight down and hang your head, don’t look.
Don’t you go looking at the beautiful plants and trees
don’t you go playing like you were born free
just remember you will never win
there’s the door but you ain’t get’n in
your dreams are broken and it’s much too late
empty hands, empty shell
broken heart, dark horizon, dreamless sleep
hopeless sunrise, empty day
no one called, no mail in there, don’t look.
Nothing to find in any book
nobody cares so don’t look.
Give it up, ain’t no peace
it’s all disaster and it can’t never be repaired
there’s nothing here and there’s nothing there
the scales of justice are never fair
it ain’t even better up there
nobody knows what it all means
there’s no answer, there’s nothing to find: Don’t Look!
The Four-Storied Heaven
Blind, who could see,
So named by a mindful dad,
Was cross-legged in the storied pagoda
Still at first
He moved to stretch
But announcing shadowplay outstretched itself, too
As though caused by him;
So that he refused for a time.
One less swarthy and you might have said
Fear of Karma.
He remembered reaching the second step on another day,
And pulled his foot up more firmly into his lap.
There is no butterfly effect, he mused,
No sonic boom from a fallen thread.
I Dated the Three Faces of Eve
How brutally kind;
Your mega-faux pas ~ you keep
That offbeat social mistake to yourself!
But love, the vocabulary lesson.
where is my kisses?
Repossession Floozy a hard land of no man
Sinecure the cliche highway
Starch of high strung
Trooper word vagrants
Waltz
She smiles coyly
Like the secret of Delaware baseball mud
Sitting Bull’s grave.
That picturesque 2nd wink of my betrothed,
who runs the show and never shows her face.
Old
Grandmother
I was about to say
that I got everything I needed done
yesterday but
then I remembered grandmother.
She cultivated sunshine.
It was like cooking a turkey
it went on all day.
Her patience with being old
would frustrate me
but her dear smile
overwhelmed me, too.
So, we would sit
she would cultivate sunshine
while I watched Winchell Mahoney
followed by The Mickey Mouse Glee Club
pushing the little button
that made the rotor channel change
on her neat TV.
Then late in midday
she would slice off pieces of the sun
and serve them,
sweet and tender,
to the sparrows.
Book of Genesis
In the beginning there was Jack
Ker - o -auc
and the landlord saw that it WAS good.
Banging the doors
on the Interstate
can't jump out, Jack,
at 90 mph.
The cheap hotel
another lunar landing
was just to the conscience.
And on the second night
the good landlord
gunned down JFK
as the Beatles' plane was landing
feeling high without mercy
on Orwell's Love Field..
HAIR was shown at the Nixon Theater
as the MK-Ultra PTA passionately laced
flowers of love
with LSD/sarin for
the tie dye commune,
and on the third day on a rising sun
when everyone wished
that the clock turned back
Sally rude, rude sally
said may I intrude Mr. Dali
and Bob Dylan slithered forth
with holy ashes
as derelicts tried to lick him
and Bremser banged the table.
and on the fourth night
wax discos waved a magic tangerine
before the host of Harlem Allah
and they sayeth whoosh
that's white man's fruit
we don't believe in a magic tangerine.
The children of the Aquarians
was foaming X-files at the mouth
was foaming X-files at the mouth
and went to sleep
so hungry for their souls
that they tapped their feet
to the sound of rats chewing
their way through Burma.
And they almost spoke out.
But on the fifth day
Political Correctness arose
the skinheads came
as the kids tightened their thongs
a grinning throng
they all breathed together
in strung out crimson leather
and the only conspiracy
as you can see
come back dry
from a chilly sea.
while on the sixth day
a boy scout whistled from Starbucks
he had a petition that made no sense
It seemed to be a plan designed
to steal Social Security
without scaring the seniors.
And the Messiah
was a long time coming.
But the seventh day
was the day of rest
for Mr. Patrick Buchanan.