Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
108 · Aug 2024
Amelia
I travel forever to the end of time
leave a spy glass inside this rhyme
I fell for you in a newsreel at 10
brave and boyish I fell in love then.
You were always on my distant horizon
but the yearning was always poison.
Amelia, you disappeared from sight,
broke a million hearts that night.
You were my constant north star
always so close and yet so very far.
108 · Jan 2023
Batchelorette Party
All boozed up on Chardonnay,
   swapping virginity lost stories
   drinking from ***** straws and
   holding ****** as scepters while
   ropes of ***** crown our heads.
   We puke and cry and wear our
   hideous bridesmaid's dresses at
   the wedding and catch the bouquet
   and send the married couple off to
   a honeymoon in the ****** Islands.
108 · Mar 2022
Family
They always say
you're not supposed to fight
in front of your kids.
Everybody fights
in front of their kids.
That's family.
108 · Sep 2022
Ready or Not
Children pick flowers
  in lazy summer fields
  rage hiding in hours
  innocent one yields
  counts to ten ready
  or not here I come
  daddy's pistol steady
  warm in noon's sun.
108 · Oct 2021
Angels of Mercy
I wandered so off course I didn't
  even recognize myself. A stranger
  I feared. What was I willing to
  destroy? Was anything sacred?
  Children? Wives? Family at all?

  I gladly sent the church to hell.
  Empty platitudes and all the rest.
  I never trusted holier than thou.

  I was saved by angels. Women who
  cared enough to approach my heat.
  It was warm but sometimes caught
  fire and burned out of control.

  They showed me my north star.
  I found my way back home then.
  No happily ever after. Never.
  Regained a foothold with my kids.
  That was enough. We love on and on.
  The angels still come around.
108 · Apr 2024
PTSD
Thunder storm
or war torn?
There's anger
in the chamber
no love lost
with a stranger
remind me to keep
track of every sin:
I'm trying
I'm lying
I'm crying
I'm spying
I'm flying off
the handle again.
108 · Jul 2023
Dismantling My Life
I write my essentials so as not to be forgotten
   by the time my funeral service and the casseroles
   and my cold ashes in some anonymous jar are an
   afterthought while the living move on as we do.

   Know that I was born March 23, 1949, at 5:32 am
   in Cincinnati, Ohio. Named William John Donovan
   the second. Firstborn son, 2 older sisters. I'm sure
   I was shriveled like a prune and PTSD after the chute.

   I lived a typical baby boomer life in that time.
   A whole bunch of hi jinks and other mistakes marked
   my time. A million laughs, a billion grins and pain
   and regret, etc. The scale is centered as far as I know.

   I'm now 69 (oh how long I wanted to say that) and I'm at
   a delicate place. I must dismantle my life. The **** collected
   is monumental. It's precious to me, only me. Proof of stuff
   I did at school, sports, work and clothes that defined me.

   Books are my essence. They map my life more than anything.
   I pile myself into boxes. I drop them at Goodwill. Goodbye.
   Soon I'll be empty enough to disappear. Please read this
   prayer and put me in a special place inside your heart.
108 · Mar 2021
Goodbye, Cincinnati
There was an easy way into your heart.
There's no easy way out. You thought it
was forever but there's no such thing.
You don't need to hear it or even fear it.
We ****** goodbye in your dorm room.
I went to Boston and was reborn again.
Pepper your deaf Dalmatian ran into the road and died. I buried her in the grave our marriage shared.
108 · Sep 2022
I Hate Love
I hate its expectations
demands and frustrations
tired drools and snores
and all the ****** bores
wandering eyes are trouble
divorce broke kids in rubble.
Thanks for birthing me!
   Without you I'd be a spot.
   The only thing I ask is
   reduce me to my essence.

   Rid me of peacock verbiage
   and self absorbing preening.
   I know I've suffered in
   ways known only to me.

Let me be rejected by
City Lights and Beats
quiet as a Xmas mouse
dead in morning sheets.
108 · Oct 2023
Rag Doll Death
I lost my wedding ring
it fell into the mud
with all the other ones
our horror of blood.

The end wouldn't come.
***** to death by many
rag doll kissed by some
just a **** for a penny.
108 · Aug 2020
Cursed Mirror
I live inside a mirror today
where everything's reflection.
Kiss my shadow's shadow.
Break my heart. It shimmers
in  puddles wrinkled in wind.
You only break a looking glass
and suffer 7 years bad luck.
I curse you with all my love.
108 · Sep 2022
Swimming in a Riptide
I splash in the waves with my kids.
Sun and surf and family. Beautiful.
I venture out in deeper water. I'm
swept out to sea in a riptide. It was an
innocent kiss, small desire, a tiny sin.
Storms destroy everything in a blink.
108 · Jun 2023
Back Stairs
The party was on fire the
  music was beating our hearts
  and we were courting on the
  the back stairs alone together
  and we held tight and soared
  into an impossible place and
  rode the beautiful beast as long
  as we could buried in my lies
  a grave stone in our eyes,
funeral choir played Our Song.
108 · Apr 2021
Bailey-Boushay House, 1992
Your breath rattles in a fragile chest
the heart feebly clanks to push blood
when there's a bit in the aorta. You're a
young man in an ancient failing body by
an unknown disease. You lean on a cane
slumped in a chair waiting for a miracle
that won't come for you. You're a skeleton.
We fear death. We fear you. I fear ignorance.
Bailey-Boushay House provides exceptional and compassionate care to people with ***/AIDS as well as end-of-life care for people with ALS and other complex conditions.
108 · Sep 2021
Gossip Queen of Alcott Lane
Crown of bobby pins and scarf,
   she hoists a beer bottle scepter,
   dime store paste royal necklace,
   moth holed sweater Queen's cape,
   her well worn lawn chair throne.
   She keeps watch from  her tower,
   surveys her realm on Alcott Lane.
   Nothing escapes the queen's watch.
108 · Jul 2024
Trailer Trash
I'm wearing Camo shorts
a wife beater undershirt
I'm 75 run 2 miles a day
ignoring arthritis  hurt.

I live with 2 dogs, blind cat
and the wife of my dreams.
Our happy hour from 7 to 11
Franzia romantic as it seems.
108 · Dec 2024
BYOB
I'll come for you
I bring a bottle
and ****** or two
loosen the throttle
set fire to the bed
sleep in splendid ash
wake you give me head
I always pay with cash.
Bring Your Own *****
107 · Nov 2021
Alchemists
Dad dropped bombs on Dresden.
   I was born into wars aftermath
   first born son his namesake I
   had to endure his brutal wrath.
   Light the flame do your magic.
   Mix your powders into elixirs
   for me to shoot or snort and
   sing praise to almighty fixers.
107 · Oct 2024
I Broke a Thousand Hearts
I slit my wrist a million times with pieces
of the broken heart's razor sharp deflections
in my attic room Penthouse desire increases
illusion of an endless tunnel of reflections.
mirrors on walls showed me every angle
my naked drunken midnight freedom dance
with my Irish too small little dangle
always chasing the mirage of desert romance.
107 · Nov 2023
Light Unseen
The light we never see
our life not meant to be
remember the forgotten
grapes of wrath rotten.
Seeking a Promised Land
struck dead by God's hand.
107 · Oct 2021
Soldiers of a Lost War
We gave you all we had because you needed us
and answered the siren's call of glorious war.
Outnumbered and outgunned we lost our comrades
and hills and limbs and minds. Pieces of us came
home to never heal and burden loved ones forever.
107 · Feb 2021
Loveless Marriage
I love you, but
not enough to *******.
What is that about?
Loveless marriage is
something I never heard
until you said something
about possibility and I cooled
towards red hot poker ***.
Now we both **** ourselves
like monkeys in a monkey tree.
107 · Nov 2023
Prostitute
When I first saw you
I'd loved you forever.
We danced in Pompeii
died welded together
under blankets of ash
statues of our history
witness carnal cash,
*******'s mystery.
107 · Dec 2022
Red Queen
I drag my broken soul
down your rabbit hole
looking for a red queen
lavish and in between
sexes not binary
my lovely fairy
smooth and perfumed
Love always doomed.
107 · Oct 2022
Suicide Pose
The river ran backward
   the day you suicided
   posed lifelike in water
   yesterday's undecided.
   The books left unread
   words still left unsaid
   dead praying for dead
   no more fear or dread.
107 · Nov 2023
God Awful Alone
I'm god awful alone with friends.
Why? What piece of me is missing?
Is my world always just pretends?
Married again and again dismissing
cracks in my mind the shrinks deny
the quacks follow Freud 'til we die
over and over they ask only "Why?"
no answers to questions always lie.
107 · Oct 2021
Unsung Heroes
The invisible gears hiding in plain sight
who keep our world moving smoothly despite
neglect. Doorman. Barista. Waitstaff. Mechanic.
Receptionist. Host. Pizza delivery. Painter.
Lawn care. Trash Collector. Plumber. AC repair.
Nurse. Janitor. Mechanic. Clerks. Stokers. Cooks.
Maintenance. Apartment Manager. Sales force.
Middle management. Secretaries. Teachers.
This list could go into infinity and I know
we'd all fit into a group at one time or so.
All I ask is each day greet the faded ones
with sincerity and let them into your thoughts
so that they'll never have to be forgotten.
I think that is my greatest fear. Death
without a footprint in the world.
107 · Jan 2021
Mad Hatters
I always want what I don't have
  and don't want what I have?
  I'm a dog chasing my tail
  'til I can't move any more.
  I sat with parrot like shrinks
  saying what do you think?
  A simple answer for my confusion.
  I think we're all mad as hatters.
107 · Aug 2021
Poet City
She seems happiest working in the dirt.
  She looks like a gypsy. Wild midnight
  hair, coal eyes and autumn's complexion
  smelling of earth, grass and dying leaves
  she takes my breath away and bends my
  knees as I beseech her to hold me close.
  She lives around the corner. I live in
  poet city where nothing is as it seems.
107 · Sep 2022
Betsy Winters
I try drawing you from  old memories
   but don't get your eyes right. I can't see
   the body that destroyed my earnest vows.
   I can't feel your warm young ******* and
   ******* that grew so hard by my caress.
   I can't see us dancing naked in the dark.
   I wish I'd kept the photos. I cremated you
   in an ashtray drunk mourning our death.
107 · Mar 4
Kill Pinocchio
Sometimes people
spend their adult hood
getting over their youth
children treated wood.
107 · Dec 2024
American Dream
We all thank our sacred gods
we're living the American dream.
Our slums are better than the others
less disease more milking mothers.
Irish, Italian, German, English all
came through Ellis Island hoping
for tickets to a better maybe place
looking for the better opportunity.
107 · Feb 2023
Blue Lips
Birds cawing. Rats gnawing. Cats clawing. Craving.
  Bells ringing. Choirs singing. Dead bringing. Score.
  ****** faking. Thief's taking. Mischief making. Under.
  Alice small. Alice tall. Red Queen's fall. Floating.
  Birds cawing. Rats gnawing. Cats clawing. Craving.
  **** cawing gnawing clawing faking or OD. All work.
  Fists punching. Fingers touching. Lips turn blue. Bye.
  Tears spilling. Sobs drilling. Graves filling. Grief.
107 · Jul 2022
We Regret to Inform You
The **** tumbleweeds blowing
in the desert wind kept flowing
always lost in the darkest nights
spent angry fragile tattered kites
in the mad howl of the hurricane
right on the edge of going insane.
So many dead war's broke waste.
Macho boys brave in drunk haste
just numbers, penciled in to die
sent in letters for mothers to cry.
107 · Jul 2021
Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath
She suffered out loud in poetry.
He punished her with his many
lovers who never read a poem.
She punished him with suicide.
Poets slit throats with razor
sharp lines and metaphor.
107 · Oct 2021
Ghost Love
She had a toddler. We hooked
up in a club and I met
her folks and workmates
a week later and her kid.
I had my 2 kids I neglected
****** kept my guilt at bay.
I knew hers was a desperate
failing impossible ghost love.
107 · Feb 2021
Love's Terrible Lies
You'll promise love.
You'll stay strong.
Almost like being free.
You broke my neck to ****
the pain and I hid my heart
from love's terrible lies.
I have nowhere else to go.
I can break vows and crucify us.
107 · Jul 2022
Ancient Ruins
I turn a century tomorrow.
All my friends died long ago.
My face is melted candle wax.
My body is a question mark.
My hands are crooked claws.
My kin won't visit anymore.
106 · Jul 2022
Closer
Come closer into the light.
  I need to smell your beauty
  to quiet demons in my head.
  God's tears cleanse our souls.
  Come closer still, touch me,
  calm my tremors still my hands.
  Closer hold me closer and we'll
  transcend broken in our world.
  Dance closer, watch the stars.
  Hear death's music ever closer.
106 · Jul 2023
Childhood's Curtain
Adults

  Keep the awful truths from
  the children. Hide them behind
  a velvet curtain and sing sweet
  songs of innocence 'til daylight.

           Children

  We eavesdrop from the stair top
  hearing the adults in their cups
  spilling the beans on every ****
  thing we are "too frail" to know.
106 · May 2022
Drunk Grandpa
Drunk Grandpa has a phone
and texts me concern
warns me of his mistakes
hopes that I can learn
where the mines are
buried I keep my legs
he means well I love him
he begs me to hope, pray.
Dear, Rylee.
Syd was just a crazy spark
LSD flash of lightening
at midnight in Eden Park
got too high frightening
left his acid laced mark
on apples over ripening
Pink Floyd born in dark.
Poem For People Who Are Understandably Too Busy to Read Poetry

A poem by Stephen Dunn




Relax. This won't last long.
Or if it does, or if the lines
make you sleepy or bored,
give in to sleep, turn on
the T.V., deal the cards.
This poem is built to withstand
such things. Its feelings
cannot be hurt. They exist
somewhere in the poet,
and I am far away.
Pick it up anytime. Start it
in the middle if you wish.
It is as approachable as melodrama,
and can offer you violence
if it is violence you like. Look,
there's a man on a sidewalk;
the way his leg is quivering
he'll never be the same again.
This is your poem
and I know you're busy at the office
or the kids are into your last nerve.
Maybe it's *** you've always wanted.
Well, they lie together
like the party's unbuttoned coats,
slumped on the bed
waiting for drunken arms to move them.
I don't think you want me to go on;
everyone has his expectations, but this
is a poem for the entire family.
Right now, Budweiser
is dripping from a waterfall,
deodorants are hissing into armpits
of people you resemble,
and the two lovers are dressing now,
saying farewell.
I don't know what music this poem
can come up with, but clearly
it's needed. For it's apparent
they will never see each other again
and we need music for this
because there was never music when he or she
left you standing on the corner.
You see, I want this poem to be nicer
than life. I want you to look at it
when anxiety zigzags your stomach
and the last tranquilizer is gone
and you need someone to tell you
I'll be here when you want me
like the sound inside a shell.
The poem is saying that to you now.
But don't give anything for this poem.
It doesn't expect much. It will never say more
than listening can explain.
Just keep it in your attache case
or in your house. And if you're not asleep
by now, or bored beyond sense,
the poem wants you to laugh. Laugh at
yourself, laugh at this poem, at all poetry.
Come on:

Good. Now here's what poetry can do.

Imagine yourself a caterpillar.
There's an awful shrug and, suddenly,
You're beautiful for as long as you live.
106 · Apr 2023
Retired
Walk the dog.
Feed the hog.
Shake my snake.
A nap I'll take.
Wine at seven.
Dream at eleven.
106 · Jun 2024
Life in Pieces
Birth to Death is life.
On a pinball machine
bounces off bumpers
into brand new clean

gone a new you
no stretch marks
summer of love
**** in Eden parks.

I did French leave
I abandoned you
I went to Boston
built a life new.
106 · Oct 2022
Old Poet
The old poet poses with his worn out lines.
    He's near 80 and written everything that matters.
    Loves, lost loves, betrayals, redemption, children
    recovered from his own disasters. Lines repeated
    they're frayed of their own weight, Autumn's dust.
    Stay with me and view me in Winters graveyard.
    I'm an old poet with a young man's heart pleading
    for an honest appraisal of my balance sheet.
106 · Jan 2022
We're All Strange Fruit
I've got no time for your suffering.
   I've got no time for your struggles.
   No time for your ugly riots and burn
   down your hoods. My own destruction
is at hand drunk in Bond Hill with a
failed marriage fights and failures
strange fruit rotting on the tree
I called you all ******* below
you called me down and I went into
the white cotton fields in your dark mob
and picked with ****** fingers and said
"You're strange fruit, I'm strange fruit,
   we're all rotted fruit hanging from trees.
   You set me free. I share your despair.
106 · Jul 2021
March 23, 1949
Evicted from your womb
into the mad carnival
of French clowns and
sideshow barkers who
pass me around and
forever toast my birth
promise shadows as time
just gets away from us.
Long days, years fly by.
The family flies in to be
by your bed as you die
and buried in your tomb.
A shout out to Bill and Melinda
the philanthropic magic tricks
20% ROI African sterile vaccine
baptism by shots black eugenics.
I am old and ripe to be deaded.
Save me from your mathematics.
Next page