#parks
After a hard day of sewing,
And shrugging off aching bursitis,
Rosa Parks clutched her ticket
And claimed an empty seat
In the middle of a Montgomery bus
Rosa knew two things the
Driver 's brain could not process
When he ordered her to the back:
Her seat was hers by purchase
And she owned an unalienable right to it.
With courage as strong as her rights,
Rosa calmly declined to budge.
The officers who came to arrest her
Could never have dreamed
They were unleashing the storms of change.
Boycotts, trials, freedom riders followed
That re-opened the flood gates of freedom.
Pastor King called her the hero she was -
This work-weary seamstress
Who knew precisely where she belonged.
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 12:12 PM UTC
Ambient sounds on a spring day.
The rain falling upon rose petals,
At the edge of a crooked park.
.
Sunlight rises high in the sky,
As the day's clock starts to run.
There is not much to do here.
.
Except wait for death.
.
.
A poem by Garry Ventura
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 6:44 PM UTC
Can we be together,
On July 14th?
At the perfect palace park,
In some kingdom far away.
Six years from now,
We'll be in Boston,
Strolling down the shores.
Hand in hand,
I'll trace my finger over the ring,
I placed on yours.
Together forever,
Separated never,
The same word,
Written in different fonts.
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 12:08 PM UTC
Like a treed squirrel
with no fear of capture.
Like a failed terrier
with two feet on the ground,
giving no heed to heel.
I fall victim
I am subject
to my nature.
May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 1:16 PM UTC
The air bites crisp this early part of the day.
Workers wrap up warm as they set out on their way.
As cyclists and joggers set the pace.
The sun has yet to grace us with its golden face.
My husband and I,
accompanied by two energetic grandchildren, whose boundless energy I envy.
Make our way to the large green fields, the children playing in a frenzy.
Here gulls, ducks and swans,
meet at the water’s edge.
Their squawks and calls,
loud and pleading to be fed.
First, the boys take the chance to play football between the rugby posts.
Their enthusiasm is to be the one that scores the most.
With grandad as the referee,
they tackle and run, laughing and shouting, that’s number “3!”
As I sit and observe from a bench, dogs run playfully and bark.
Sunday morning and families are making their way to the play park.
Families as large as four or five, walking, talking, laughing, toddlers ahead, racing on bikes and scooters.
Suddenly!
A long misguided
kick from one of our penalty shooters.
“Oh, no!”
The ball lands with a splash in the middle of the river.
Causing the water to ripple and shiver.
How will grandad get it back?
He walks
keenly following its track.
Luck is with us!
The wind changes course and blows the ball to the side.
Grandad bends and retrieves it for his boys with patience and great pride.
In the distance, trains chuff, chuff and toot, toot,
as they cross over the bridge.
I wonder where their start point was,
Scotland, London or maybe Cambridge?
Before we have reached our destination, the sun has broken through the clouds,
and the day warms.
People have increased in their numbers,
like bees multiplying in swarms.
Everyone is glad the sun has come out to play.
Jackets come off, sun cream goes on and families continue on their way.
It’s a perfectly leisurely and wonderful day.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
This *****
Artificially awake
Lydia
apples 20 years have passed
oranges i want a do over
manhole cover coins
savage glares across the 4 wheeled property lines
young moms not giving a **** that's alright
kiss of sun hidden from
anxious from blue oak , it's ridges pluming in the dappled twist
and floundering wave, wiggling wave of oak leaves green as frogs.
ponytail suzy, *** from galaxy sci-fi
i brought up a cup while it was empty there,
but so distracted by my own trembling effort,
every hair a furry hood, every fatty fixture of my face a rebounding basset hound
tennis shoes up to my neck, dumb naked in my greenery,
already old somehow, the window closing,
the permanency of parks, like a stilletto in a limosine,
green fixture of my white blinded attempt to see tomorrow,
tourist .
thoughts of Sylvia
, my gaping awe at the feminine,
and its green garden.
-cbrander
Jun 26, 2022
Jun 26, 2022 at 12:26 PM UTC
In life’s rearview
Rosa refused to stand
Nelson paid the price for his land
King’s dream was shattered by a bullet
which birthed more bullets for the chocolate man
Until we said NO MORE!
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 11:05 PM UTC
There's still
a part of me in London-
I left it in my dingy block
on Deptford High Street.
Another part of me still
remains in St James Park,
somewhere in the flowers
and another somewhere in
the markets of Camden Town.
I don't think it'll ever leave.
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 8:59 AM UTC
The parks are now empty of all but the trees.
The rot in the woodwork has made itself clear:
the virus reveals a more wicked disease.
If we watch each other with growing unease,
more sinister shadows may draw themselves near.
The parks are now empty of all but the trees.
The nurses and doctors make no guarantees;
their furrowed brows are not at all insincere.
But the virus reveals a more wicked disease.
While some may not fret at a cough or a sneeze,
our day-to-day life shows a mask more austere:
the parks are now empty of all but the trees.
The wealthy can shelter on yachts overseas,
far-flung from the whims of our mad racketeer,
for he, too, was borne of this wicked disease.
But Justice may not brook the fraud she now sees,
her blindfold being repurposed as protective gear.
The parks are now empty of all but the trees,
and the virus reveals a more wicked disease.
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 2:36 AM UTC
Caution tape where
Children once played, once laughter,
Now only kenopsia.
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 10:43 PM UTC
This day I remember
As me and
A friend
Hung out at park to
Look
And take pictures of
The statue festive
Taking pictures of
All the statues
What good times.
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 9:12 AM UTC
Even as the golden embers of the Sun
sweep the rough surfaces of wood,
the rays command the light to twist,
to show the perfectly imperfect portrait of life.
Even as nature's breath let
the crisp autumn leaves sway with the air,
you don't cease your own little dance
within the children's sandbox.
Even as your eyes crinkle along the edges
with your nose crunching like a flower bud,
you seem as if you were Touch-Me-Nots
that found its way to become a Sunflower.
Even as we align like a seesaw
with weights that drift us apart to a distance, but
bring us closer to the equilibrium,
we would always be close but never quite there.
Even as I see you the way that I do,
even if my words won't reach you,
I write all these to let other seedlings know
of a special flower called *you.
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 10:17 AM UTC
Ripples riddle the mirror,
Below, faint shapes shift
Elegant forms float here and there,
Little legs thunder, leaving a gentle wake
in lieu of turmoil.
The air is thick, the sun falling,
Already lost behind billowing storm clouds
Etched chaotically on the horizon.
Invisible but for the ubiquitous light.
It is the dragonflies time,
A darting zip and an effortless flutter.
From surfacing **** to towering Reed,
Searching for something we can only pretend to know.
Determined housewives, faces set,
Arms pumping and hips swaying
Their Anatidean waddle so fitting
Their quacks, a wall of stereo.
A lone rusted sign warns of gators,
but of signs, there is that one alone.
No rogue bubbles or beady eyes,
no ticking of swallowed clocks,
no suspicious splashes.
nothing.
My battery is now as low as the sun,
and my pen is as empty.
A not so subtle poke in the ribs
from a universe in protest of the
bad poetry being inked.
c'est la vie
or as we say in English
**** it
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
Go to the park with me
Lie in the grass on the ground.
Stay out until dark with me
And watch the sun go down.
Before the sun goes away
Let’s watch the clouds above
And look at them to see
Images of things we love.
Let’s be on the lookout for
Rainbows out of nowhere.
Let’s remember to cherish
All the glory that we share.
Go to the park with me
And let’s roll downhill.
Then watch all the birds
And listen for a whippoorwill.
Let’s take advantage of
This beautiful day we see.
Let’s count our blessings;
Let one of them be me.
I hope you feel as grateful to
Have a life of love and beauty.
Let’s look upon enjoying it
As a kind of welcome duty.
Go to the park with me
Like a loving Jack and Jill.
Let’s make our memories here
In this park, on this hill.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 5:26 AM UTC
the tree casts shade
like sundial
for each blade of grass
in hopes of praise
from green fingers
with no reaction
the neglected tree
sheds its leaves
in protest
in late summer heat
i regret the day
I never thanked the tree
for its shade
while i read
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
Theirs a daisy in my tea cup.
Theirs a sun set setting high.
Theirs a river running past me.
And the deer are striding by.
Their are feathers stuck inside the tea ***
and their are a few in my cup.
We remember, or at least most of us do.
The lesions we were taught
about a people who are now few
fewer than the patches of grass in our city parks
fewer than the smog less city's that
have wilted our daisy hearts
Now we've gone and built our world
on top of their prairie plains
we gave them land to live on
but reservations aren't the same
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
All those laughters
Are not always real
All those faces in a park,
Wrinkled and weary,
Laugh in a circle,
Devoid of happiness,
No sign of a crinkle,
Eyes without light,
Devoid of life.
Their happy sadness echoes,
On the streets, in apartements,
The dismal vibes reach us
Yet they emanate the fake sentiments.
Stoop a little and evesdrop that circle,
They deceive emotions, black and purple,
All you hear is a shouting troop,
We know the truth of a laughing group.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
On a bench at the park, in
The last light of day,
I wring and fling my tongue
Like a brush full of paint --
I beat it and the dusty words
Fly from the old red rug.
The splatters and droplets
She uses to paint a smile, gorgeous
And colourful, and she wraps the
Rug in her own, wringing
The dust out of both.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
Puckered lips.
'How should I move' and 'where should she meet me'
Forth on. And I don't. And she won't.
Unconventional.
We're ****** love. Smitten.
Frost-struck fools.
Your hand didn't find mine when I lost my footing,
And you won't understand why people don't come here,
The place where none should stand
to fall.
No response. Unkept, godless silence; pray, pray, I am prey.
That was it, wasn't it?
An exclamation point to a run-off
sentence; we refused.
She'll pray to the gods
We'll later become
And I'll never sip on something pristine as
Lavender tea lemonade.
She said the stars converse as we do.
Shining. Laughing. Slowly dying.
I'll go to your back, then your head to my chest.
Hearing you: softening
Jabs to whispers.
There, a heavy light settled along the edge
Of our spot, our unencumbered field of obsidian
And crafted blades of grass.
Of all the things I can be,
I can't be the last to go.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful place,
so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like
blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible.
And when I leave, you will finally understand,
why hurricanes are names after people.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Imagina un mundo sin guerra
Imagina un mundo sin luchas políticas
Imagina un mundo sin racismo
Sería un mundo aburrido,
un mundo sin desafíos.
No hubieramos tenido el placer de a
John Lennon
Malcom X
Mandela
Albizu
y Parks
conocer.
Seguiriamos creando ídolos de proceres inútiles.
Por lo tanto,
gracias por la lucha,
gracias por la valentía
gracias por enserñarle a la humanidad a que no se rinda.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
We had blown through half the ***** and the drugs were nowhere to be found in this oasis's of debauchery and bad decisions .
Bone had thrown his usual temper fit and with his spoiled rich boy roots showed his *** in the worst possible way till someone finally shut him the **** up.
And after the ****** off dude had knocked my sometimes friend most times pain in my *** sidekick out.
Looking to me in half spent rage and ****** knuckles asking now what the **** are you going to do?
Well I'm going to have another round and play the jukebox now that someone finally shut that ******* up what you having amigo?
You mean your just going to sit there and let me get away with what I did to your friend that way.
Who that guy in the floor I don't know him.
But you came in here together **** you been sitting here drinking for at least five hours and your telling me you don't know him?
Oh that guy sleeping in a pool of blood in the floor?
Yeah stupid .
Nope never met him but he 's alright sometime when he's not ********* then he's well less a ***** and more just a regular ******* .
What are you ******* with me ******
The burly man asked as pure anger flowed like the Rio grand within his eye's
Some people have to build the rage up like some strange volcano to inflict damage on others and some are just ****** off by design.
I wasn't sure of this man's type I just knew it was to dam hot to hit the highway and the cervasa was cold the music was right and I had no intention of leaving before my buzz kicked in.
What's to stop me from just kicking your *** like I did this ******* jackass gringo you tell me what's to stop me from taking your money and rolling your *** right out of this place?
Mexico still bleeds of the past and it's people still show that passion for a good fight that at it's base is the true nature of man .
Not to be some violent nut but the passion for life at it's sharpest and most dangerous edge .
Well my friend I can think of a few reasons and probably none will be that pleasant.
I'm done with your games ****** .
The man moved forward fists clenched ready for round two I suppose
but his eye's sure were shocked when he found a barrel of a gun placed firmly between his eyes.
Now I told you this wasn't going to be pleasant sure you could have sat your angry *** down on a bar stool had a drink or two but no you had to play the ******* when I was just trying to catch a good buzz I swear some people have no manners .
The room went dead silent like some cheap spaghetti western right before someone was about to get killed minus that weird *** music so I guess it wasn't that silent at all as one old man turned his head then just went back to his drink like I don't give a **** as long as he doesn't bother me or make me stop drinking.
Oh **** ****** don't pull that ******* trigger the man said his rage had turned more into a look of fear or maybe just a look of he just **** his pants honestly what's the difference well minus the smell.
with a gun in one hand and a beer in another I called the bartender down .
Mix me a mist and coke barkeep please.
No Whiskey just tequila senior .
What ! I replied in a fake sort of shock .
I swear no whiskey No women what kind of bar is this place I swear do I have to shoot somebody to get a bottle of whiskey ?
No no ****** the man at the end of the gun pleaded just get him some ******* whiskey Goddamit he yelled at the bartender.
Really you don't have to be rude oh I'm sorry what's your name I been to busy holding you at gunpoint you must forgive my manners.
My names Gonzo I enjoy killing my liver hookers but only in moderation like a good Christian and ballroom dancing .
The man at the end of the boom stick lost all fear at least for a second.
Really ballroom dancing?
I'm kidding bout that one amigo but I do enjoy watching a good pole dancer high five to that I mean I would give you a high five if I wasn't holding a gun to your head and all .
Um you ever going to tell me your name bud?
I looked at this now downright scared shitless man who seemed to have a real issue with sweating from the strange puddle on the floor.
I swear you pull a fully loaded pistol on someone and point it to there head and everyone just acts so serious people are so strange these days.
Bill the man with a sweating problem replied.
Bill ? Really what Mexican is named Bill ?
I mean I come all the way down here get into some wild west kickass trouble and I find the only Mexican named Bill .
**** you Machete you ruined my whole experience of what this was supposed to be like.
Sir. the man tried to speak up behind the bar.
Don't interrupt me barkeep I'm on a dam roll here duh who you thinks writing this story imaginary person I created within my own demented mind.
You see Bill when I come across the border I expect a few simple things kick *** ****** cheap drinks and badass people like yourself named Razor or Spider Or El Nino or some sort of **** is that raciest sure put labels on what we have here amigo but I come for a kickass time in Mexico and you really well you just killed it so I hope your happy.
I'm so sorry but please don't **** me Bill Replied .
Sir the barkeep spoke up again.
Okay what bartender being my whole trip has been ruined by Mexican Bill who honestly I feel if not for all this gun and life or death **** we could have a true connection but not like in a gone fishing on that mountain **** were those two cowboys corn hole each other or maybe they just played corn hole once is fine I mean its not like I saw that movie and cried at the end cause duh I would never go see that in some cheap attempt to get laid by my teenage stripper girlfriend yeah don't ask.
Okay barkeep what the hell is it.
Well sir were not in Mexico.
This man was clearly more drunk than I for he didn't know what dam country he was in.
Amigo are you sure you know what your talking about.
Well yeah the barkeep replied your in Busch gardens theme park .
Well that certainly explains the ******* roller coaster and why that woman near it slapped me when I asked how much for a ******* boy do I feel embarrassed.
I knew I shouldn't have had that acid before leaving the house .
I did think it was strange that Germany was within walking distance.
So after nearly giving Mexican Bill a heart attack who was actually was Canada Bill once made me feel a little better because honestly just for Nickleback and Justin Bieber was grounds enough to pull a gun on him .
We sat enjoyed some drinks as Bone laid passed out in the floor and said I don't want to go to school every time I kicked him cause I'm a true **** for a friend duh like you hadn't figured that out.
We laughed we rode rides we beat some dude up in France just because he was French .
And in the parking lot as we said are goodbyes.
I stood there and said you know Bill it's been great sorry bout the whole thinking I was in a foreign country and pulling a gun on you and stuff.
It's cool Gonz sorry about all my ****** music we pollute your airwaves with I know it's like being prison ****** by some dude called Harley .
Well I got to go and Bill you stay crazy and by the way go take a ******* bath cause you **** your pants and it smells worse than Taylor swifts crouch okay .
Yeah the city landfill doesn't have **** on her .
We parted are ways drunk and behind the wheel like good Americans .
And if that ****** you off just wait till my next write.
Duh it's just a story *******
Stay crazy hamsters .
Your captain
Gonzo
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC