In the red corner - me
in the blue corner - life
this isn't a fair fight
there was no sparring or training
I had to come out swinging right from the bell
absorbing every jab that life throws
just waiting for the knockout punch
still dancing and going toe to toe
throwing haymakers left and right
I try to keep my guard up
hoping somehow to win by decision
side-stepping punches
ducking and weaving
uppercut uppercut uppercut
I dropped my guard, and there goes my mouthpiece
ding!
saved by the bell
I still have a few rounds to go...
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots
And Brussels in a cake,
Carrot straw and spinach raw,
(Today, I need a steak).
Not thick brown rice and rice pilaw
Or mushrooms creamed on toast,
Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed,
(I'm dreaming of a roast).
Health-food folks around the world
Are thinned by anxious zeal,
They look for help in seafood kelp
(I count on breaded veal).
No smoking signs, raw mustard greens,
Zucchini by the ton,
Uncooked kale and bodies frail
Are sure to make me run
to
***** of pork and chicken thighs
And standing rib, so prime,
Pork chops brown and fresh ground round
(I crave them all the time).
Irish stews and boiled corned beef
and hot dogs by the scores,
or any place that saves a space
For smoking carnivores.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:58 AM UTC
I wrote a tribute to Maya Angelou in 2010 that I would like to share today in memory of a great poet. Please excuse the dated references.
I Know Why the Twitter Bird Tweets
The free bird leaps
on Google’s back
and scrolls down page
till the browser ends
and dips his wings
in Facebook rays
and dares to claim the internet.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow page
can seldom see through
his lists of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his claws to tweet.
The Twitter bird tweets
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tweet are read
on the distant hill
for the Twitter bird
tweets of freedom
The free bird may watch tivo'd Glee
And order up some good Chinese
and laugh as Sue Sylvester drones
On and on of kids off tone.
But Twitter bird stands on the grave of tweets
Getting “trends” for Trick or Treat
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his claws to tweet.
The Twitter bird tweets
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tweet is heard
on the distant hill
for the Twitter bird
tweets of freedom.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
The saddest thing in life is wasted talent
You were my biggest challenge
To not only have you fall in love, but to keep you fallen
It is not easy
If only I could see we'd turn into a tragedy
*We forgot why we loved each other in the first place
But remembered each other's mistakes*
What would it take ?
My words don't mean anything anymore
And about you... I'm not sure
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
How can poetry be written
Without
You
By my side?
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
i will always associate back flips
with my first "boyfriend" in the third
grade who has probably now grown
up to be the type of guy who takes
pictures of himself shirtless in the bathroom
mirror and tells his girlfriend that she's pretty
but not quite as pretty as he is.
i will always associate playgrounds
with my elementary school sweetheart
and hearing my favorite love song and
him walking five steps behind and defending
me when he thought i needed it.
i will always associate the rain
with wet tables and standing up
and laughing with friends and talking
and being wrapped in someone's arms
for the very first time and hearing "i missed you."
i will always associate "almosts" with the guy
i never really realized i wanted until it was too late
and seeing him walk around holding the hand of the
girl who wanted him when i didn't and seeing him kiss
her the way he wanted to kiss me once upon a time
and with ******** up really really irreparably bad this time.
i will always associate short time periods with the two weeks
when i belonged to someone I never expected to want,
when he kissed me like i mattered,
when he held me as though he would never let go
and then told me we should "take a break" and
come back to us when the "time was right."
and i will always associate happiness with these times
when i was loved and wanted and needed for just a little while
and believing for just a moment that i was special.
and you know what else?
i will always associate failure with the entrance of something better
i will associate failure with a narrow escape because if it were meant
for me to have then i would have had it but it's not so i don't.
i will always associate life with beautiful complications.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
I am now fifteen
and I am now afraid
that one day I'll look up
and all of this will fade away.
I am now fifteen
and I am insecure
because everyone around me
expects me to be sure.
I am now fifteen
and nothing here makes since
except his arms around me
and except for his sweet kiss.
I am now fifteen
and to be as honest as I can be
something tells me one day I might
be wishing again for fifteen.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
The world is full of
wanna-bes and
used-to-bes and
almost-wases.
And the world is crawling with
naysayers and
false speakers and
people who never speak at all.
The world will never run out of
cookie cutters and
fakes and
exact replicas.
But every once in a while,
if you're lucky, really truly lucky
you meet a dream catcher or
a dream weaver or
a dream creator.
And every once in a blue moon,
should all the conditions be right,
you meet someone who is not afraid.
Someone who will hang their feet
over the very edge of this dismal world
look down into the dark expanse
take your hand
close their eyes
and jump.
And that person, my dear,
is you.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
I don't know how to write
of someone who has given
me so much when I have given
so little in return so I will say only
I hope you are happy, today and always
and I hope you can forgive my
every little screw-up: now and in the future.
I love you more than I have ever shown
and more than I have ever felt
and more than you have ever known.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC