"balboa" poems
I can't tell
If I'm looking at
the New York City skyline
Or into your eyes,
Contemplating a bright future
With you and I;
I can already tell that
You're something along the lines
Of one of a kind.
But I was just another Philly boy.
Blessings don't nearly encompass
The satisfaction that sets in me
When your voice
Pierces my eardrums;
You keep my heart warm
In the face of any blizzard storm,
If my heart was a compass,
You'd be my true North.
If God charged you for beauty,
Then my darling, you'd be poor.
If love is a path, then baby,
You're opening all the doors,
and when I hear your voice,
My whole being is begging for more.
They have to make a sixth borough
Just for how big my heart grew
While you've decided upon me.
I've dreamt of your angel wings
Taking us over the Verrazano bridge
Countless times;
Time Square wishes its bright lights
Could one day rival your smile,
I'll race Rocky Balboa
To the top of the Art Museum steps
A million times over
To prove that I'll go any length
To hold your hand.
I was just a Philly boy..
But then I found my Queen of Queens.
I can now walk like a king, knowing
That your fingers are interlocked with mine.
I can love myself,
I can love my world,
I can love my faith,
But most importantly,
I can love you.
Let's paint our towns red.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
"Boo"
The echo of you is in my mind
My gigantic, magnificient friend
Who society left behind...
What made you? Why did you?
How could you not know?
How much we all need you -
Did we not let it show?
Did you not see the love
In the smiles you grew?
If I could go back...
If you only knew.
That dark, lonely morning
You felt so alone
No one to rest with
No one to phone
The thought leaves me cold
And so angry with you
If I could go back...
If you only knew.
I see you at night,
Dancing and smoking
I know any day
You'll tell us you're joking
Back with a bang
In a nightclub queue
If I could go back, Olly,
If only you knew.
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 25, 2010 at 7:59 PM UTC
Nothing scares me anymore.
I have been hurt to the core,
Hated by so many people,
For the spoils of my hustle.
I have lived in darkness,
And experienced sadness,
Waddled in disappointments
Victimized by false statements.
I have seen evil humans
Been attacked by demons.
One thing that's certain,
I will never ever give in.
Like the wet monsoon rains
And old locomotive trains,
My lines are uniquely powerful.
And for this, I remain grateful.
In spite of my misfortunes,
My name's not on these gravestones.
Like the mighty balboa tree
I stand strong and free.
IB-Poetry ©
15/12/2018
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 5:48 PM UTC
Poker faces on Balboa,
the rainbow as our chips.
An orange glow blows past us in the thick, salty air.
Golden blue sea water carrying itself our way,
in tall graceful strides.
A vulnerability shared.
Just for us.
And the only thing I can think is:
Can I keep you?
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:46 AM UTC
I've had the same view
here in the city
for awhile now
the banks of the schuylkill
the art museum
rocky balboa himself
its been 6 months
the same window
the same view
so many lights
always on
occasional cars
I can hardly see
last nights snow
littering the ground
7 stories downward
one hell of a fall
the glass is too thick
don't worry
no cleanup today
only me
watching the snow melt
and the cars pass
and the life
of everything
drudging slowly onwards
as it has for six months now
here on the banks
of the schuylkill
the tempo is all off
a terrible pace
in a terrible place
Kerouac did a year
up in New York
6 months more
then maybe I'm out
of here
on the road
to mexico
cheap liquor
and cheaper love
the heart beats
quicker there
stooped up in
some backwards
bordello
paying dime a dollar
for another round
then off to san francisco
where the beat stomps
and stutters under that
spotlight
or maybe the blood red mesas
of el paso
where the young broads
dark as honey
can taste just as sweet
but only just a while
its that thrill
you long to have
one more time
breaking a sweat in
the backyards
sneaking love
under fences
and desert floors
just to be anywhere else
where the beat is quicker
than here
I'm growing deaf to it
here in the doldrums
here in the city
of brotherly love
on the banks of the schuylkill
watching the same view
from the same window
as rocky balboa stands tall
moving faster than me in
that forever celebration
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC
once captain
fore thorn
that soccer
made her
calling such
a crown
then in
Balboa as
she lately
resides a
homophobic and
Gold Pride
hence a
bride and
a southern
school maven
in heaven.
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 8:32 AM UTC
Salted air
Blowing through chestnut hair
Sitting near on the pier
Glowing honey eyes
Reflecting the sun
Goosebumps on pale thighs
Inside of me silent cries
The need to keep you warm
The coldness drew in
You froze me out
A shadow of me remains on balboa
-JCM-
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
Hey, i dreamed of you last night. i just never thought that the dream i had would be the only way for me to see you. um, i was wondering, if the stars ever lined up in the shape of your name, will you ever love me again. No, well um.... im sorry i guess, i tried my hardest and spent to my pockets were nothing but lint. All for someone who never seen me for me and forgave me for my sinful sins. i never thought you'd leave me for a guy i use to call a friend. but thats not all true. you know Rocky Balboa always said "The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows." And you know what he's right. because the one shine of light and one glimpse of color was when i was able to say " baby you are my world"
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
For Rod McKuen
The gentle singer of our youth has died
The poet of empty Sunday afternoons
And solitary strolls through Balboa Park
Among lovers and Frisbee-chasing dogs
Of laughing with shipmates while cleaning rifles
Because we knew more than the armorer
About dreaming away from learning war
About pretty girls laughing in the sun
And a chansonnier in sweater, sneaks, and jeans:
The gentle singer of our youth has died
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:59 AM UTC
“All the great sadnesses, great temptations,
and great mistakes are almost always
the result of loneliness.”
-- José Saramago, Margaret Jull Costa
In the end we all become graves,
our differences united by the same
neglect of weeds and immense
necropolis whose swathed residents
observe from quiet encasements.
Beyond our mounds will spread
giant limbs of balboa, tapping
like trapped hangers behind closet
doors casting macabre shadows
across plastic flowers and dirt.
Visitors and memories are decimated
by time until all that remains
is a hovel of chiseled stone.
History becomes an illusion
of mystery, like that black dog,
there -- just beyond Aiken's bench,
sniffing out with such diligence you
would swear it was seeking the birth
certificate of God, until it ***** its leg
and ****** on the concrete instead.
~
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 1:41 PM UTC
I left because…
I couldn’t take the beauty anymore
In absence of a soul to share it with:
The park more lovely than I’ve ever seen:
A delicate new moon
Against a veil of sultry clouds,
The blue becoming green
On buildings grander than belief –
A eucalyptus pining for the stars,
A bronze conquistador in dusky hue.
In absence of a thought of what to do
I had to leave,
And my heart burned
At that sad fact –
And yes, I cursed myself for the courage that I lacked,
But I simply couldn’t take it anymore
Bewitched, beguiled and bothered was the theme
Of a play I left suspended entre-act;
The actors took the stage when I had gone
And played on love’s enchanted tangled weave;
But I dragged on home as one without a goal
A dream –
I left
For I couldn’t take it,
No not now,
Nevermore.
When beauty’s incarnation steals the stage;
When nature robs the breath within my heart,
The simple chore of breathing is just that:
A chore –
And I left:
Couldn’t take it anymore
I was bereft, beaten, broken and no longer
In that solitude no longed-for one can feel.
You might think that walk would only make me stronger,
But I cannot take such beauty anymore –
Yet it’s only with such loveliness I’ll heal.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
Superman on kryptonite,
Why because it makes me feel alright,
Like rocky Balboa going into a fight,
As a try to save the world I die,
No obvious signs I'm hurt alone I cry,
I fight to survive but don't care if I die,
If in the end no one cares why even try.
It's a new day today,
For the first time I feel better than okay,
An uphill battle still lies ahead,
Yet im smiling thanking god that I'm not dead,
Round 15 I'm still standing with a chance to win,
Anything is possible if you're willing to go the distance
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 11:08 PM UTC
From 2015 - for Rod McKuen
The gentle singer of our youth has died
The poet of empty Sunday afternoons
And solitary strolls through Balboa Park
Among lovers and Frisbee-chasing dogs
Of laughing with shipmates while cleaning rifles
Because we knew more than the armorer
About dreaming away from learning war
About pretty girls laughing in the sun
And a chansonnier in sweater, sneaks, and jeans:
The gentle singer of our youth has died
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
Drink in your feelings.
They go down like thick and grainy cough syrup,
And come up like thin and boiling coffee,
Suffocating your breath like *****
Let them choke in your mouth and nose,
Strangling your better judgement and your hopes for better thoughts.
Drown in your self pity
She doesn't love you: never did.
You can't say she's gone when she was never there.
How many times must you throw yourself into the middle of heartache, like a courageous fighter into the ring.
You aren't courageous, only stupid.
No Rocky Balboa are you, just a love sick boy full of too much hope.
Why Are you testing your good fate?
Is she worth it?
You may think so now, but you have far more life ahead of you.
If you haven't realized by now, she isn't good enough for you and never was.
You would give her the world if only you had the means, yet she wouldn't give you a second glance.
But yes, you have little past to state that you aren't hopeful. Maybe someday girls will like nice guys, and God willing you will love them too.
Now get off to bed, to school, to practice, to your home, to your dog, to whatever life takes you to. You need to live your life
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Dr. Seuss used to live in my city,
Where the trees are triumphant truphaloos.
Acid rain falls to make you more witty,
and the world shakes with the weight of your dues.
"Still, laugh along with everyone," you'll say,
And the ground will tremble beneath thy hooves
So with that turn to see the palm trees sway,
and chuckle when the sky above you moves.
Yes, Seuss' friends don't wander in the streets
they're far too busy strolling in the woods.
The smells of all Balboa take their seats,
So now, make the exchange, and drop the goods.
I see the world now through a dead man's eyes,
so now upon the world a new sun dies.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 1:45 PM UTC
Igor Goldkind and John Kingsmill will perform TrypTych: The Third Act of Creation in its entirety at tonight’s Art and Poetry event in Balboa Park around 7.30 pm
With authors Tomas Gayton, Jim Moreno, and Chris Vannoy. People’s Choice Poem Performance Awards follow featured readings and performances. DJ Gill Sotu will provide music and sound throughout the show. This interactive arts and culture experience will include beverages, snacks, and plenty of time to mingle. Bring a snack or beverage to share and get in free. Info: 619-957-3264.
* When: Friday, November 10, 6:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m.
* Where: San Diego Art Institute1439 El Prado,
San Diego, 92101
https://www.sandiegoreader.com/events/2017/nov/10/poetry-art-at-sdai-fri-sept-22-gayt/?et=219255#
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
They say I can't
They say I will not
I am a bamboo tree that resist the howling wind breeze
I am a cactus that survives the hot desert degrees
Can't crack my soul that is hard as steel
All the hateful words trying to break my knees
I feed of hate and to reach the glory I need
You can't break a man who has been beaten down to the highest degree
Rocky Balboa once said that life is not sunshine and roses.
it will beat you down to your knees.
the strongest man will get up and fight to the end time.
I heard this quote more than once till it became a part of me.
The wave will drown anyone who stands in the way of my dreams.
Fight me if you can and i will get my glory even if it means my demise.
I own the elements of surviving failure in order to succeed.
This is me and this is who I am.
Never give up til the day I die.
I have a dead heart that doesn't pump or allow to breath.
Hate me world i will be waiting for the sting of the bees.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
Spielberg had his scary jaws
Hitchcock filmed his crows
Lucas serialised Star Wars
As rocky balboa came to blows
Tarrentino pulped his fiction
Oscar Schindler built his ark
hammer house scared us shitlees
pet cemetry had left its mark
Di caprio sailed with his lover
Gone with the wind,was just a sham
Titanic would never ever recover
633 squadron aimed to break a dam.
Eastwood never been unforgiven
et never did return back home
The long short and tall of it
Private Ryan was never alone.
exorcist the omen, scary movies two
hills have eyes,spit on your grave
Elvis Presley's film Hawaii blue
Aliens predators,King Kong on a tower
Papillon catching Hoffmans butterfly
As the triffids begin to flower,
****** and the ****** shower scene
the beauty and the beast
Snow White and Hannibal lector
Joining us for the annual feast
Having breakfast with Tiffany
Dancing on the African queen
Spartacus oh Spartacus with
Tom hanks brilliant mile green
John Wayne died at the Alamo
The film an all round total flop
Eddie Murphy made millions
as Beverly Hills finest cop.
Little shop of horrors
blues brothers darken pair of shades
My personal view is
Toy story was the best film ever made
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 11:47 PM UTC
Sometimes I fall
Sometimes I break
I never allow myself to stay down
I pick up my pieces and complete this puzzle
A lot in my future - bright ways, for me are at stake..
I might once wear a frown
I take in positive energies
I blow out the negative poisons...
Like Rocky Balboa
I never take my eyes of the light
I get back up
I stand back up, tall, and continue to fight
I give the relaunch of my positive and bright
future Human endeavors
I tune my brain
Like musicians in the Grand Symphony
Orchestras playing a meaningful and cheerful musical drama
I make them proud
Both my father and mamma
For the words "can"and "Will" are fused within my psychic
I never stay at stages that are lower...Never!
In the ring of life
I arise and spit in challenge's faces
Not weakened by doubt
Or my Insecurities
I win Triumph's belt
I feel the wind of opportunities.
Fill my soul.
To better Mankind, Myself, my life, and the surrounding communities...
I am a part of a bigger and more beautiful
Brighter, lighter, and more profound army of Boxers..
In the ring of life
Nothing can stand in our way....
As we are here for reasons bigger than our egos could ever imagine...
United we are one..
Divided we fall..
As we form, together, as one all powerful and united force...
The Continuing and Progressing Earth and Spirit
Called "Evolution's Dragon."
Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 7:50 PM UTC
My mouth is bleeding
And my knuckles hurt like hell
I am whispering under my breath
And punching the air
I touch my nose and flinch
That's gonna take awhile to heal
I've been waiting 3 years to see you
How does that make you feel
You should see the other guy
He got taken out by ambulance
I walked through those **** double doors
That place was called "Renegade 9"
You hit me straight in the nose
It sent a chill down my spine
There's blood running from my nose
I can feel it's warmth on my lips
I am dizzy
I didn't even know the guy but he looked like he could pack a good punch
So I started flirting with his girl
That got him real riled up
He was at least 150 pounds heavier than me
My head is pounding
My ears might bust
I think I should probably rest but my legs won't stop moving
I felt like Rocky Balboa
I felt like Muhammad Ali
I was the next world champion
Or the next accidental death at the bar down the street
I lived 50 miles away
I am walking home
I am smiling
I am running
This is my life
I am alive
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
I hear the leaves fall atop Spacebus
Wonder who else is dying.
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 9:07 PM UTC
When Rocky Balboa returned from Russia, he'd been cheated out of his money, he didn't have a penny.
I was at his estate sale and I bought his Lamborghini.
But Rocky followed me home and said that he was ready to attack.
He said he'd break every bone in my body if I didn't give the car back.
Rocky was with his son and he was trying to prove that he was a tough guy.
I kicked him in the nuts and his son was shocked because Rocky started to cry.
Rocky's son thought his dad was as tough as a gorilla but he turned out to be a wimp.
He lost a lot of respect for his dad, now when he looks like him, he thinks of him as a chimp.
You may believe that Rocky is tough but he's not.
Rocky turned out not to be as tough as he thought.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 6:58 PM UTC