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i think of summer solstice as
a reminder for God to let the
earth back down

it's not supposed to
stay up there forever—

that's what kids are for...




s jones
Jun 2024



.
How many wonderful canine companions
have come through my life, I hesitate to count,
each one a dear friend that brightened my
daily existence, taught me lessons no human
could, faithfully loved me with committed
devotion and asked for so very little in return.
Yes, it is true, dogs are man's best friend.
As I near my own ending, reflection has become
a daily preoccupation. Of course, I miss and
lovingly remember my departed human family
members and work hard trying to recall their
human forms, all gone now for over fifty years,
I've mostly forgotten their voices, and their
features beyond old fading mostly black and
white photos. As I will forever honor their
memories, so do I cherish the memory of my
canine family members, there were seven in
all, I just counted them. Six Boxer dogs and
a big sweet giant Rottweiler, who looked
like he might eat your face, but instead
always preferred to lick it.
Piano notes drift in the
rainy evening,
like sadness from a
clock.
You were the color
in my dreams.
The paint on my
canvas.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgXtR-Z6G9s
Check out my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recent book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems.
I watch the
parade of
trivialities line
up like
hemlock,
like mad dogs
yipping at
my ankles.

I'm too
crafty for them.
I laugh and
yawn
and watch
my cats play with
an electric fish.
Check out my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recent book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEncp495668
clouds roiling   blood blue
a day of mouths feeding mouths
i feel subpoenaed

furrows   being turned in the earth
mouths feeding mouths
my thoughts   stimulated

birds and their young
mouths feed mouths
nourishment
3 x haiku style poems
born of one and then splintered for mood
Locked out of every building down the block of trust
Left in my torrential downfall to rust
Knocked off course by a simple gust
A visual SOS is a must
But follow the flair I launch daily at dusk
And stumble across a cold and lonely husk

©2024
Looking back, it seems to be.
Loving relatives, at the
  age, of about three,  
Taught me a prayer,
   to say upon my knee,
And set upon the
 tribe, for me.
Making sympathy hard, for
    other tribes, to see.
A struggle, even now,
    to break free.
May we find a way
  "My Plea"
2
Humans became the dominant of every kind,
When they turned from muscle, to using the mind.
And to their apex, they started to reach,
Giving up instinct, and learning to Teach.
These notes may be the longest, thing I ever write on this site. This poem is dedicated to a teacher who got me interested in poetry. Ninth grade English class. MS Babttista had just on a Friday, announced we would begin a study on poetry, the following week. Our assignment was over the weekend, to write a poem. I was upset, I was a budding football player and poetry was for girls and sissies. There was still about 15 minutes left in class, so I wrote the poem #1 below and tossed it on her desk. When I arrived back on Monday, while she was picking up my fellow students poems, she handed mine back. On the top was an "A" with the note "Nice read, thanks for taking the time, to make it rhyme. See me after class. I was glad and surprised by the "A" but worried about meeting her. After class she asked how I was able to write it so fast, and did I just make it up. I told her I had never tried to write a poem in my life. She said I might just have a future. She then handed me a dog eared copy of the poems of Robert Frost, and told me it was one of her favorites, and she would like me to have it. He is my favorite to this day. As all of you know, I'm not and will never be a good poet, but she started me searching for good poetry. Poem #2 is my effort to thank her and all "Teachers". You will know now that my "tag line" on many of you fellow trying poets, was "plagiarized" from a former beloved teacher. But, I consider it the highest of praises! Please keep writing. Thanks for reading, Denny R. Allison.
.......Death just takes us.....
Our virtues and our vices
                So long!
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