Aug 2013
(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
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......
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......
