Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I'm still fond of little Reno
Taught school there for 2 years
Coached a little basketball
Met a Turkish psychiatrist

Not too far from California
Tahoe in the winter
Truly, a beautiful sight
Then on to San Francisco

Taught Julius Caesar there
Dr. Cohen says it's a warning
Brutus even worse
The noble Romans all deluded

Not a teacher anymore
Disability
Washed a few dishes
Drive my son to work

                           Reno!
Korean hot *** for dinner
Really delicious
Get him home safely
Sadness hits like bricks

Together, troubled together
One peaceful night (please!)
Snow on the ground
3 sleeping sons

He's gonna be a driver
Freedom, fear, freedom
My boy is growing older
O ye protective spirits!

                  hope ...
Another night I'm wasting,
According to the billionaire news letter,
Bowling with CL and JR.
A sleek new bowler's cap,
A broken in pair of bowling shoes,
I found while thrifting.
JR made a joke,
"They look like Al Capone's lost shoes."
And I guess they do,
So whether I dress like an English bartender,
Or an Italian mob boss.
That's up to you to judge,
Because I'm wearing my new bowler's cap,
My all American pool shirt,
And Al Capone's lost shoes.
Some of my best nights, cheers to my fellow bowling fans!
I have an American diner kind of life,
Like a menu full of cheap food,
That's the best you've ever had.

A big stack of pancakes,
A slice of cherry pie,
All for $10.99.

That's how I'll keep living,
With the holes in my pockets,
And my cheap diner food.
I let my friend read this and they told me I write with the soul of a grown man. Hope everybody had a great day today!
WORDS! WORDS! WORDS!

I hide in a book
( in a nook )
as adults look for me

I hide in my book
( in the big bay window )
invisible to all adults

or a brush
makes my bed a tent
the torch reads the book

the book
my magic carpet
the smile of Scheherazade

I dive into the words
come up again at the last page
gasping for breath

asleep on the book
my head
amongst words

talking now
only in fragments
the burnt book
It's a nice day in Paris,
A chilly afternoon.
At a tourist cafe,
With an Italian Painter,
Chatting about the French language.
"Why would you write about Dan's Amour?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well it's Dan's thing, seems personal to him."
"No, no, I wrote about dans amour."
"Yes that's what I said, Dan's Amour!"
Sigh
Another poem painting onto the world of, "The Gray Man Of Paris," I like these little light hearted ones.
Have you considered,
AI might not be outpacing us,
We as a people,
Might just be slowing down.

Becoming more reliant,
On robotics,
That we've made so many,
Our mistakes are catching up to us.
This goes out to the kid who spent twenty minutes trying to show me the weakness of human work.
Next page