My mother didn't have a television
nobody did
because their weren't any
until someone had a vision

to bring radio to life

radio singers and soap opera players
circus acts
and vaudeville comedians

all came together in one box

After that there was only one
thing left to do
and that was

go to the moon

fearlessly, groundhog
muttering, languishing horse
recovers, unchained

Bus stop Linda says she's 69
I said a 68 would do
She laughed then flew

Asian girl in hippie clothes
and boots-attire

Pretty girl in bunny boots
a look..desire
escapes me as I follow
Her footsteps elude me

and notice
A familiar face
Still looking so young

No

It can't be her
that was thirty years ago
and realize a mistake in identity

and move on

Black girl looking ****
like a movie star...

Sometimes somethings end
just like a romance novel
forever happy

Run, lift, hop, skip and jump
Now's the time to have a fun thump
All men take off with their dames
To see who's best at the Olympic Games

a nine line poem with one less sound per
line as the lines just move on down
like counting crows on a hot
wired pole just five more
to go, is this so
easy. not as much
as you might
think it
is

Love
Love is
Love is being
With
You




ll

Love
Love is
Love is being
Being with
you is what
Love is
Love

Third grade rules. They sound simple and really, one does not
have to be a brainiac in order to understand them. Although one learns them in the third grade, they remain valid though the rest of one's life.

Rule#1:  Making something you want yours.
In order to make something you want yours, simply spit all over it. Trust me, no one else will want it. And it will be yours for the rest of your existence.  

Rule#2:  Making someone it.
In order to make someone it, simply take your index finger and poke the person you want to be it. Then say "You're it". Then, they will be it.

To do it with someone you want to be yours. First, spit all over them. Then make them it. Then you can do it with the one who is yours. Do you see now how simple life can be just by applying the rules of the third grade. I hope I have helped clarify things for the better of everyone. There is no need to thank me and have a great summer.

your poet

Experimental
Haikus for hire they said
as if poems could talk

Poems are lazy they
lie down horizontally
sleepy poem, sleep nice

About a month ago I had asked politicians to take the power
of cannabis sales out of the hands of criminals. Now, all of a
sudden, I am taken for some drugged-up *** smoking  loser
who only wants the whole world to be ****** on ***. People, I
can assure you that nothing is more further from the truth. But,
that is what politicians do. Tell lies and distort the truth. The facts
remain. All I want is for criminals to have less power. And the only
way to make that happen is to have all *** sales be government-
controlled, which would create a surplus of dollars for everyone.
That is all I am asking. For more power to the government. And less power to criminals. If this is not clear to you by now then, see
a doctor right away and get the mental help you so desperately need.

A Poet

Crackers and water
Steve eats them, thinks there must be
more to life than this

upon the blaze that lights desire
for lovers here, a worthwhile fire

Love You  copyright 2012 by David Ehrgott
  
Love You

Love you
That's all I wanted
was to

Love you
That's how it started
Let me

Love you
You don't let me know
When to

Love you
I thought I knew
When I could

Love you
I guess I missed it
Honey

Love you
Is all I wanted
was to

Love you
g' head and take me
Honey

Love you
I only wish
that I could

Love you
more than just wish
I wish to

Love you
I hope my wish
come true to

Love you
and that you will
love me true

I couldn't love you more than
I could. I shouldn't love you more than
I should. I wouldn't love you more than
I would. I can't love you more than
I can. I don't love you more than I do.

So we're here again
To learn to do what we love
oh, the irony

Up on Boulder Hill they gather
to celebrate what really matters
finally, a winning football season
as higher and higher glows a worthwhile fire

The bonfire for the team

a girl
a pretty girl
as pretty as her curls
\pretty as the posies
on her p.j.'s
or the smile on her jeans
or her skirts
\but more than pretty
the love she has
for me
her one and only
daddy

Flying by
Where does it go?
Where it stops
Will we ever know
\Going round
and rounder still
To the other side
of the mountain hill
\Landing now
With band in hand
Can finally say
I am a man

expectant pike laughs
oafishly, snowdrift bragging
apologists eat

THE PODS
A Memoryrhyme
a capella
  
I Pod
You Pod
We Pod
She Pod
He Pod
They Pod
Her Pod
His Pod
My Pod
Your Pod
Their Pod
This Pod
That Pod

I took the photos of you off
My mirror today
I came to terms with being fifty
You are not too young for anyone
And I may or may not be too something
It's not about a difference in age
It's about living a different life
One of happiness or
  
Escaping darkness
  
Not in this life
Not for me
No more trying

Their hands were so fast
as they waved goodbye.
We thought he'd be a good guy.
Why were we so high?
  
It was gone before he got there.
There wasn't any money left.
Nothing left for health care,
except for over there.
  
They called it a bailout.
Look closer!  They're not bailing, they're buying!
We'll save you IF, you let us own you.
Give us a piece and we'll keep you from dying.
  
No, No, No!  It's nothing like that.
You can still practice capitalism.
Just give us a piece.  You hear?
China has been living that way for years.

I asked my sister
On the fourth of July
Don't be your mother
Please! Just! Die!
  
Don't hang around
For forty-five years
Crying " I'm dying"
And then still be here
  
Don't be a redhead
Don't be a *****
If cancer has killed you
Then run to the switch
  
Not funny nor odd
Nor even queer
She did me that favor
In one simple year
  
copyright 2008 1 Armed Poet

**** 'em then forget them
That's our motto
Three today, more tomorrow

implacable tall
old azalea screaming
ardently floating

Thirty-five years to find the fifty
Thirty-five years to find just fifty
Thirty-five years to find those fifty
What did our government due
  
Thirty-five years to find the fifty
Do the math, it's just plain silly
Thirty-five years to find the fifty
Give the government its due
  
You can't feel anymore.  Safer?
You can't feel anymore.  Safer?
You can't feel anymore.  Safer?
When government gets us *******
  
They need a lot more time now
They need a lot more time now
Three point seven million years
To catch the other bad guys
  
They sit in their disguises
In a robe on courtroom benches
With their lawyer clad-ed henchmen
They sit in their disguises
  
Can you call up the police now?
Can you call up the police now?
The Chief is sitting quietly
Protecting family ties
  
Anybody out there?  Save us!
Anybody out there?  Save us!
Save our country, save our babies
Give us mob free lives
  
Forty-seven years of mobster torment
Forty-seven years of mobster torment
Fifty years I've no enjoyment
I may as well just die

Bills, Browns, Chicago Bears
Broncos, Bengals, Buccaneers
Raiders, Ravens, Rams, and Redskins
Giants, Eagles, Texans, Titans
Falcons, Jaquars, Jets, and Dolphins
Niners, Vikings, Pats and Lions
Seahawks, Saints, The Colts and Chargers
Cowboys, Chiefs, The Green Bay Packers
Cardinals, Steelers and The Panthers
Now, it's time to watch what matters
Hope you have an awesome year
I'll be watching with my beer

Bury me in Alaska
My dear old friend
It won't be in vain
It's how I wish my life to end
  
Grind up my remains
And feed it to the bears
There, in Alaska
Not someplace colder
  
Not in Aroostook
Not in Maine
Bury me in Alaska
It won't be in vain

I have the fear that
Someday they're going to hunt me down
No real sense in leaving town
  
They all know me
or better than to jam me down
No sense changing that
  
Yeah, they know me
Too many years here
No sense in running
Too many years here
No sense in looking back

Always
                                        One little word
                                 For two people in love
                                               Always

Peter Boyle was a ***** old thief
And he took me for three million
Just before he died he came to visit me
Just to brag about it
He said "Hey DaveE Ha Ha Ha
I took you for a sucker.
No, just kidding!
You're my only friend
Since John Lennon died"
Then I remembered times with Peter and John
And how we did brainstorming
That one time
Just kicking back
And talking about things
And smoking each other's packs of cigarettes
And laughing
  
Just last winter I saw her face
The girl with the golden tan
Hope I see that woman again
Working for the pizza man

Down on Atlantic Avenue
The archaic boys at Rocco's
are ready to rumble
  
Three blocks down
at the 7-11
The swishee machine is broken
  
Silence rules
The salty ocean breezes
Unable to turn the darkened misery clouds away
as the tour bus heads home
with melancholy

Can a blind man
Become a poet
How can one write
about the things
they have never seen

Could a deaf man
Write poetry
How could he express
the sounds of things
He has never heard

Would a dolt even think
About writing poetry
and if he COULD put down
on paper what he feels
Who on Earth would ever listen

There's a professor at Harvard
Who teaches poetry
left, write, upside down, and sideways
but, she was never
Write for me

I felt the pain of
a burning man dying as he
haunted my dream

Out of the slammer
In three short weeks
Bed rents paying for drunk driving

In one strike
In a split second of time
Heaven turns into a hell

If you were gonna
Then you would have.
But, you didn't.
So, you weren't.

one little poem
can heal a hurt
one little poem
in the pocket of a shirt

a shirt that's ripped
with a spot of dirt
has a poem in its pocket
that could heal a hurt

a hurt can't heal
if a heart can't hear
the words of the poem
that create the cure

the cure for the hurt
it begins with a verse
but you need to read the words
so the cure can be heard

be heard all ye poets
check the pocket of your shirts
and speak of the poem
that can heal a hurt

a hurt can be healed
by the power of a verse
one little poem
in the pocket of your shirt

Love
I want it
I have to have it
I need it to grow
Give me love
It's what I need
I need to grow
Grow with me
Please

Darkened winded whirlpools
Tearing up farms and homes
Swallowing whole towns

It's the nature of spring
A week of rain, then some sun
to Make things grow

friend
I dreamed of you
  
that you came to see me
and for an hour or two
  
my fantasies played true
as we tossed and turned
  
we made one from two
and now I am lost

Poor Willie Williams
Waiting for the train
Traffic Cops stole his money
It's a sad story; it's not funny
  
Poor Doctor Williams
Awake in Lincoln Park
Arrested for his scribblings
"We don't like your kind" they bark
  
Carlos won't you come back
Give this old town a haunt
They crapped on paradise again
Your town is full of greed and sin

Love only in love
Don't love in hatred
or for sport
as if it were a game
to play

Love only in love
it is not a contest
love is not something you win
it is something to have
something to hold

Love only in love
It is not something to -
purchase. Something to own
It is yours
Only when you give it away

Love only in love
Do not waste it
Don't throw it away
or toss it to demons
(Those that attempt to control)

Love only in love
And you will then know
Only love

Little killers
one, two, three...
Learning all the letters

Little killers
one, two, three...
guessing for the answers

Killing sibling's learning man
A game once we did play
You learn to spell or die
Okay?  The old fashion way

conspirator chirps
Adonis drifting brutes ooze
somnolent sunny

I am a lonely sole
No one is ever there
to talk to, or ask
A question or two
  
From my window above
I see them
Backgrounded by the traffic's din
So empty
Their lips silent

Cowgirl
Locked-up in the joint
Rough riding, when you could have been dancing
No stars to gaze at now
Nothing!

As the sun sets over the Hackensack
Bums drink their old English behind Costco
Where the river flows
  
It snakes upwards towards the USS Ling
A World War Two submarine museum
Where a *** is nesting there
Along the river in a cardboard box