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  Sep 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
Nat Lipstadt
(Inspired by and dedicated to John Edward Smallshaw, and his "Spice")


I am a summer-man,
Because I'm blessed to sit by the sea.
Let it and the other two Musketeers,
boon companions to me,
Sun and Wind,
erase my discomposure as I
reside in the Poet's Nookery.
Let them have almost
all that troubles,
but not all.

I am a summer-man.

On the bay, on the beach,
I see birth, I see death,
osprey nests, carcasses of
mussels and horseshoe *****.
This, somehow reassuring,
the cycles,
this circularity,
the tides and inevitability.

I am a summer-man.

Student of languages seasonal,
Peaches, plums, cherries, poetry
and loving Woman.^
This, the  summer alphabet-soup
of my multiple tongues.

I am a summer-man.

Sancerre and Pinot Gris, super cold,
Paul Simon, Nina Simone,
with proper aging,
getting  hotter,
Salsa and Afrikaner hints,
super louder,
Even "Still Crazy After All These Years,"
that-who-wud-be-me,
chills outer.^^

I am a summer-man.

When ever this lad's writes appear,
it proves once again,
there is no truth that his  
name was once Dr. Seuss
In a prior life, even if
each is signed by
Ogdiddy Nash


I am a summer-man.

Disrespectful of the calendar,
if I can, try to make
summer season stretch-marks from
May to October.

I would add April,
but the IRS is already
****** at me.^^^

Though the cherry blossoms of May
now gone away,
the lilies of June
arrive, but but for a week or two,
soon, like my mom, withered away.

Acorns in August^^^^ have arrived too swiftly.


This summer, beloved,
and love of summer,
deep-rooted.

Season of my Peter Pan Poetry Galore Festival.

A love,  incapable, impossible, of ever
growing old, ever growing cold,
it cannot wither.
It is summer heat reminders exposed,
how it misses its man,
that hide in the flames of
the teasing, popping, reminding
Winter fireplace's crackling popping
^ See "The Summer Alphabet of Woman (I Speak Woman)"
August 23 2013

lipstadt-man

^^ See "Made the bed backwards"
August 24 2013

^^^  See "Caesar Has No Authority Over The Grammarians"
August 22 2013

^^^^ See "* Acorns in August (Sonata for Summer Cello and Fall Piano, No. 3)" August 19 2013

——————

* Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel

April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again

June, she´ll change her tune,
In restless walks she´ll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight.

August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I´ll remember.
A love once new has now grown old

————
Tonya Maria

Tonya Maria  I am a summer-woman,
Because I'm blessed to sit by the sea.
I too display the summer season stretch marks.....
The sea, my lover, owns every inch of me......
Ivan Brooks Sr Sep 2018
Daybreak some mouths open to eat
And some open to host only flies.
Some mouths open to gossip or speak  
Falsehood, vulgarity and evil or lies.

Some mouths open only to do both
Yet they accomplish nothing from it.
Some open to display a bad tooth
And emit an odor that smells like ****.

Some mouths open but say nothing
Coherent and productive and actual,
Yet will go poking in nearly everything
Saying something that isn't factual.

Daybreak, some mouths stay closed
Opting to be neutral and say the truth.
These mouths may be mute and bored,
The price of gold these mouths are worth.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
3/9/2018
Shut up if you nothing to say... say s neural mouth.
Ivan Brooks Sr Sep 2018
Everyone of us will die someday
Death cares less about personality.
For the appointed ones,it's on the way
Death cares less if you rule a country .

Or possess fine clothes and blings
For those destined for today,he'll come
Be ready if the club of death swings,
Prepared or not,you're going home!

So weep not for me when I'm gone
It's not a bad thing to sleep forever.
It means my brief time here is done
So mourn me not my dear daughter.

For yourself cry hard and be prepared
For a visitation from death's hands.
Be brave,be strong and don't be afraid,
To depart from your ancestral lands.

Fear not death, death's fear just passed
Those who live very well will die
So does the poor, hungry and stressed
Soon we all will be on the other side.


© IvanBrooksPoetry
31/8/2918
I can freely talk about death,especially since the death of the fear of death.
  Sep 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
Blesseur
What a struggle, I want to live in the mountains.
These cities are overwhelmingly dense
packed with billions of incompatible personalities
Perpetual petty battles between religions, nationalities, colours...
It’s all nonsense in my ears, evil nonsense.
‘We’re right, they’re wrong’
Shut up!
Seeing eye to eye has never been heard of
That’s how it has always been.
Will we always be divided?
Yes? Maybe? No?
Oh god no
My bags are packed, my toes point to the mountains.
Ivan Brooks Sr Aug 2018
Thank you hello poetry
for making me feel worthy.
Here I can write
And can freely create.
I need no validation
and self-promotion.
It's a unique platform
or a stage to perform
On my own ,to rewind
Time or say what's on my mind.
Here I always feel fine
Once I have the available time
Here I shake no hands
Match to no bands
But when I make a mistake
Somebody wide awake
Inboxes me and respectfully says
You might want to take a look at this
I seriously like this
So I honestly pray
each and every day
to stay
And be very active
And have another perspective
I feel connected
Here ,I feel respected
the emotion, the hype
Just my place and my type
For completion of this process
to other platforms, no disrespect
from poets here, I get more respect!

© IvanBrooksPoetry
29/8/2018
My flowers to hello poetry
Ivan Brooks Sr Aug 2018
On the battlefield of life,
the good and the bad are inseparable,
the lifestyles of the rich and poor incomparable,
the willpower of the determined unquenchable,
the combined forces of God's blessings and hard work unstoppable.


©IvanBrooksPoetry
29/8/2018
The title says it all
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