"chapin" poems
"And the older I get, the more I'm sure
That more by itself never was a cure
Some days I've got nothing to show for except
Walking the dog and walking the floor"
Mary Chapin Carpenter
<><><>
*it's been twenty years plus
who can remember exact,
the last time I had a full-time four-legged
companion to share my bed, greet my head with
wagging tail, and joy incessantly, overflowing and drowning me
with face lickings and hugs of a topsy turvy twisty body,
and smiles and curdling yowls of deep throated
cries of obvious joy and the
first thing I'll do when the nectar of next
life's staging begins to commence will be me to get
such a dog as heretofore I remember as an unadulterated purest joy,
I'll still walk the floor,
long walks, yup, outdoors, early morn,
and late afternoon day settling setting endings,
dog and me, freshly bathed, settling in to watch
some British crime and ****** mysteries sleuthed and
solved by folks I'll never meet, but whose company enjoyed
over the distance of an atlantic sea and about seven feet,
and maybe dog curls up next to me, by my pillowed
head, or between my happy to snuggle legs,
don't matter much, dog & me,
will discuss an alternating
rotation satisfying our
mutuality,
and even when I still walk the floor, which be a task for evermore,
he can walk beside me if he chooses, cause choice is
what's it all about*
with a true companion
nml
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 5:19 PM UTC
My head is reeling
What a feeling
Bass line pounding through my brain
Skull is cracking
Quite nerve racking
I need something to help dull the pain
Images horrific
Pressure is terrific
Listening to what the station plays
Eyes are burning
The world is turning
It's like it is the end of days
I need to spend some time relaxing
Getting my music back into my head
Listening to ABBA oldies
followed by David Gates and Bread
An afterword or two by Chapin
With The Carpenters along as well
Will help me clear my mind of what's there
And take away the images of hell
KHEL, hour of power
The station of the hour
Killing my braincells by the day
Hard Rock bottom feeders
Rotten Singers, silly bleeders
I don't know why I stay
Thrash and Metal
Brain won't settle
My head is almost set to burst
Glass and Glitter
Makes me twitter
I no longer think disco was the worst
I need to spend some time relaxing
Getting my music back into my head
Listening to ABBA oldies
followed by David Gates and Bread
An afterword or two by Chapin
With The Carpenters along as well
Will help me clear my mind of what's there
And take away the images of hell
Hey There DJ
That's what the kids say
I do it just to help to pay the bills
Super sonic
I need a tonic
To help me swallow down the pain pills
Every morning
Without warning
The pain begins in my head
Metal grating
Music hating
I guess I'll feel alright when I'm dead
I need to spend some time relaxing
Getting my music back into my head
Listening to ABBA oldies
followed by David Gates and Bread
An afterword or two by Chapin
With The Carpenters along as well
Will help me clear my mind of what's there
And take away the images of hell
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
I used to be a golfer once
But, now I am a hack
I swing around a waist of jello
I only play the middle tees
I used to play the back
I only use ***** that are yellow
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
I used to have a short game once
I used be real good
(Where do you think you might have lost it?)
I used to have no fear at all
I knew all that I should
(Is it with your sand wedge, where you tossed it?)
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
I used to split the fairways boys
I used to sink the putts
(What ever happened to the feeling?)
I can't hit a **** fairway now
I only hit wide cuts
(It's enough to send my mindset reeling)
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
Now, I am afraid most days
I can't hit it off the ground
I only hit well when I drink some
I know each tree out on our course
I know the ball hits tree bark sound
I only play good when I've got ***
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
I used to be a golfer once
I wish I still could play
I wish so hard for that sweet feeling
I once was good
But not today
If I could find Diablo, I'd be dealing
But, my game is up on the shelf
And it's funny
How, I play only by myself
No money
I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play like myself
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC
2016 Museum of Modern Art Party in the Garden - Inside
Vera Ellen **** is an American fashion designer who is mostly known for her dresses. But most do not know that she started out with a higher education at Sarah Lawrence College.
She had a bachelor degree in art history. The founder of Vera **** Bridal House has become one of the most successful entrepreneurs. She was able to fulfill her dreams with a college degree. She is one of the world's most successful business tycoons that learned about entrepreneurship. If you want to have a degree in design or fashion, and at the same time explore business, then following Vera Wang's career path might be something you can consider. According to Rasmussen, **** has an estimated net worth of $115 million.
**** grew up with Chinese roots but she was born and raised in New York. She initially graduated from Chapin school in 1967 and then attended the University of Paris. Afterwards, she went to Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County and took a degree in art history.
What many do not know is that she competed in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. She was featured in Sports Illustrated, 1968 edition. When she did not make the cut for the US Olympics, she set her sights on fashion.
With her background in art, she entered Vogue as an editor immediately after graduating from Sarah Lawrence. She was the youngest editor in the publication. She moved on to Ralph Lauren 17 years later. At the age of 40, she became an independent bridal wear designer.
With her experience and education, she now works with renowned fashion designers and designs for the likes of Victoria Beckham, Ivanka Trump, Avril Lavigne and Kim Kardashian.
She does not limit her designs to wedding dresses alone. She also ventures into the realm of evening wear and retail.
Vera Wang's success stems from her love of fashion. To this day, she still enjoys skating though as a "multidimensional" sport.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
lie still awhile
darling
let your bones
rest
breath in
breathe out
repeat
as my fingertips
trace your lifelines
your body
the conductor
my hands
tingle with the charge
my lips graze your eyebrows
taking the furrow
my lips graze your cheek
tasting the tears of years past
my lips graze your chin
taking the stress
my lips graze your lips
tasting their passionate memories
i leave my mark
my fingerprints
along the outline
of your created form
the sensation of
cool skin
boiling blood
the reverberation of
pounding heart
ragged breath
my hands explore
every inch of your
transfixed anatomy
savoring
my fingers composing
the night song
against your
limbs
allowing your skin
to melt against mine
against my form
until
liberation is found
so
lie still awhile
darling
let your bones
rest
breathe out
breathe in
repeat
as my fingertips
trace your lifelines
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 8, 2011 at 9:34 AM UTC
~for M.C.C. ~
who sang me to sleep,
when my soul begged me for
sweet release,
just was lucky, I guess
*"Mornings here with a coffee cup
Stories in my head, looking up
If the rain holds off we'll be in luck
But we're lucky anyway"*
<>
Been there, done that,
ritualized & compartmentalized
the essences of the routinized,
to measure the days of my life,
as small keepsakes,
charms and tokens on a bracelet,
jingle bo jangle,
when another be repeated,
the telling belling of
a ✅ of satisfying satisfaction,
<>
and I!ve been bone
marrowed & narrowed hell~married,
imprisoned until decisioned,
that no life was no life at all,
(take note! y'all y'all),
and I miss my dog's greetings,
and snoring while I'm wide awake,
always loved to drive too fast on
back country narrow lanes,
in my suburban shrunk
small suv,
with radio blaring, no need for
trucking on the Truckee,
been there, done that..
<>
in the small ways,
in the
small places,
take my slow going days my way,
and not no need
to rent borrowed uninfluenc-ed content
cause I custom built it in,
easy like, five easy pieces,
learned to make daisy peaces,
of the bright nights melding
with life affirming hot sunlight
and there is no bad time,
with a cold blue~ribbon
in my left,
my right grasping two O'clock
on my heart and steering wheel,
driving freedom fine,
Chapin~ Carpenter
on the stereo dial,
no set time,
just anytime,
rain or shine
for me and my poems
to *** together,
like old time,
any fine rhyming time,
together we flashback
to the sweet Release
from jail in 2008
<>
***and break out a new one and clap it onto the clasp
my bracelet of charmed
keepsakes,
like memories of
my old dog, thinking
one more time,
just got lucky***
6/27/25
Jun 27, 2025
Jun 27, 2025 at 3:32 PM UTC
Like Harry Chapin's Mr. Tanner
I live an uneventful life
I have a day job and a puppy
And a strong and loving wife
Mr Tanner was a cleaner
Who sang while pressing clothes
I , myself am nothing more
Than a man who's writing prose
His friends and neighbors
Praised the voice that came out from his throat
My friends do just the same for me
They all like what I've wrote
But, now I take the step
The one that Tanner took
I'm opening myself on up
I'm now sharing my book
My poems, they are my children
The characters are me
I hope that you enjoyed all this
At least the show was free
If you like what was read
And you'd like to hear more
Just look for me on facebook
For these poems aren't in the store
Now, I 've shared who I am
Like Mr. Tanner did before
Now it is time for me to leave
And I hope you're wanting more.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
The bipolar is my burden
Sick and suffering
Lay in bed and lonely
Always ill at ease
Grateful for my father
Help in my sickness
Mr. Harry Chapin
Good things come in 3s
I like French cathedrals
European licorice
Midnight basketball
Please, baby, please
The world is a madhouse
I'm intrigued by mathematics
The cruelty of women
But the wind is in the trees
Jan 1, 2023
Jan 1, 2023 at 10:54 AM UTC
So yes, it's true
I pretend at poetry
all the words rhymes and lines
cliche and morning dew
I wish I could write real music
a song and a tune that sings
my memories fall short of the reason
just a thought
that reticent words may bring
I want to be like Harry Chapin
or maybe even Don McLean
a ballad for all, and answer the call
nothing bad, or evil, or mean
It's just a wish and dream
I go there from time to time
my mind it whispers, then screams
as poetry proof
of my crimes
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
At the Nassau County Medical Center We nurses were put on alert;
A truck hit a small car on the L.I.E. leaving someone in a world of hurt.
Our “John Doe” was being air lifted and we heard the copter drone near.
One look at his face and I knew he was gone from this world of Love and Fear.
Yes, we all knew it was Harry from his unmistakable leonine mane;
The charts had him labeled as “John Doe” but we knew who it was just the same.
The doctors, like heroes, were fighting to bring Harry back from the grave
But his heart had been pierced by a sliver of glass; there was no way that he could be saved.
Had his heart failed him, there on the roadway, or had he been killed in the crash.
I couldn’t feel mad at the trucker who did what he could at the last.
We found a gold watch in his pocket. “Harry F. Chapin” engraved.
A man who had fought to save others but who himself could not save.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC