"dunn" poems
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn
What a vision of loveliness you have become
As I watch from the wings sipping a Pimms
A one-sided love affair has just begun
She holds a martini and graciously flirts
Still wearing the fetching tennis skirt
All the boys stare as she climbs up the stair
Every one wishing she could be theirs
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn
Did I cheer too loud for the match that you won?
Was our handshake too long when I told you well done?
And now it is nineteen seventy one
What an excellent wife and mother you've become
But alas not to me
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 3:25 PM UTC
You know they had to do it
I mean, you could see it from the start
You could see it wouldn't last long
They set the apple 'fore the cart
He was redneck country
Driving trucks and wearing jeans
She was old school classical
Jane Eyre type, a girl of means
Her family were descendants
His was only kin
He liked country fiddle
While she liked violin
She liked Bach and Handel
Vivaldi and Corelli
He liked Jones and Jennings
and thought Corelli was spaghetti
She spokes in terms of red and white
Meaning wine...and which to choose
To him one word was missing
And that word was the blues
Polar opposites at best
There was no other way to say
We couldn't see them ever lasting
One hour...'nor a day
She would listen to her Mozart
He...to Ronnie Dunn
They couldn't see it till it ended
We saw it from day one
Two divergent kinds of style
It was wrong right from the start
And in the end, when it was over
She had a truly, Baroque - n heart
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
I watch Laura through our adjoining office window
and pray to any god that will listen that she won't pick up the receiver.
I hope my glare burns the cord that...
******
*Good morning, Mr. Prater. My names is Laura and I'm calling from Vector Supplies.
How are you doing today?*
Her screech of a voice causes the hair on my arms to stand up.
Her laugh should be one of the layers of hell.
Hello? Mr. Prater?
Another customer dropped the call.
If someone with that voice called my home I would demand the manager
and accuse the caller of huffing helium, trying to get high.
She's the worst salesperson in this office.
Frankly, no one is great here.
At least we're better than the northern branch.
The boss, Mr. Leckman, opens the door and slithers into her office.
Laura, I saw that another customer hung up.
I'm sorry, Mr. Leckman. I promise I'm trying.
Try being more perky like I know you can.
Oh **** Don't encourage her you *****
And Laura, you can call me Ted, remember?
Yes, Mr. Leckman. I mean Ted.
Her giggle almost broke the glass of our window,
and if it had, I would have slit my wrists with the shards.
No hesitation.
I'm still watching the horror show,
and that's when I saw it:
He winked.
That ***** I knew she was ******* him.
That's the only reason why she's still here.
Sadly, I was interrupted mid-strangle fantasy when Mr. Leckman,
or Ted, barged in.
Ms. Dunn, get back to work.
Sorry, Ted--uh, Mr. Leckman.
He had shut the door before I could correct myself.
Great. I'm sure I'll get fired by the end of this week.
I need this ****** of a job.
It's one of the few places that doesn't make you
**** in a cup before you sell your soul.
Maybe I should bend over more often.
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
I read a story the other day.
I read the headline.
It said: There is no god and we are his prophets.
We drive slowly on Saturdays.
At night in our home there are noises,
the dull thumps of ghosts.
We used to comment. Now we rollover.
I wake and return the blankets I’ve stolen.
In the mornings there is music.
A kitchen dance of tip-toes and arms at war with air.
The new car with its heated seats.
There’s a pace I like.
It’s microwaved tea;
it’s 11:30 a.m.;
it’s one more chapter before.
I listen to you get ready,
a chorus of tubes uncapped
and capped, of hairdryers
plugged and unplugged.
You sing softly.
I hear this, too.
Beyond this house,
a brook, a mountain, a trout.
Distances mapped.
Plans drawn with
parallel lines, listless and drifting.
Within,
there is no god, and he is love,
and we are his prophets.
You are my practitioner.
And I, yours.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
it rained the day after Christmas and
you said you’d prefer snow.
it reminded me of London
so I kept my mouth shut and pushed your hands
further between my legs.
“eat my pineapple,” I instructed
as the *** coated my tongue.
“carry me through
the tiki bar and do pushups in the empty
space while I brush my lips on your temple.”
we were married on the corner
of Queen and Dunn;
our officiant on one knee, clad in blue knit
I
never thought I’d be here.
across oceans you recessed
further into my insomniac brain.
your eyes are green, right?
turn around:
it’s less romantic if there’s no eye contact.
track our distance across my sternum --
I’ve never been to Azerbaijan.
I took advantage of the fact that you were wearing black
and forgot to outline my
shape in chalk.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
They dragged the river twice
from bank to bank
a nice job for some.
Jimmy Dunn was bloated,full on fish and chips and mushy peas but then he eyed the apple pies and his eyes being bigger than his belly ordered that along with jelly and ice cream.
Leaning loudly on the groaning table and unable to make a start,he farted,then he ate some more, off Mr's Plumdore's a' la carte.
Again, he tried another start to get his day up into gear,but parting from the food laid there was more than Jimmy Dunn could bear,so sitting down with more than most, he thanked his rather pretty hostess in the cafe, by the river Dee,
anyone with half a brain, would not have caused himself to gain such weight and I could see the enormity and the immensity of his big bulk.
Eventually he left his seat and plundered off along the riverside just as the tide was coming in,never saw the banana skin.
They dragged the river twice.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
https://youtu.be/fZSiBj4vCiY
My Carona,
Don't u know we've come a long long way
I've been fearin' that you'd come
When u're around u take our breath away
Bad Carona,
The symptoms surely hurts bud-gets
I'm a part-time worker at a ho-tel here in town
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Oh bad Ca-ro-na!
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Ca-ro-na go a-way!
Bad Ca-ro-na
u've caused some sad
& scary times
Just the thoughts about u brings back an-xi-e-ty
Gyp-sy vi-rus
You're a my-ster-y for doc-tors
U got har-bors locked down so ships can't sail out to sea
U cover sun-light when the times r good!
U treat us so bad-ly we want u gone now!
Bad Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Oh bad Ca-ro-na
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Ca-ro-na go a-way!
Bad Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Oh bad Ca-ro-na
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Ca-ro-na go a-way!
Bad Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Oh bad Ca-ro-na
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Ca-ro-na go a-way!
Bad Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Oh bad Ca-ro-na
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Ca-ro-na go a-way!
Bad Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Oh bad Ca-ro-na
Ca-ro-na!
Oh Ca-ro-na go a-way,
Ca-ro-na go a-way!
© From A Poet's ♥️
3/17/20
Viruses r
Minuses
Bacteria causes
Dilerium
Even a cold
Can wipe out the old
U came down w/ the flu?!
We should quarantine u!
© From A Poet's ♥️
3/17/20
Pray more
Stress less
And my life won't
B such a mess
© From A Poet's ♥️
3/18/20
Homeschooling?!
Who r u fooling?!
I know u!
And that won't do!
That's y u work!
And and chose public school!
So they deal w/
Kids who act like fools!
I'm not stupid!
And you're not Cupid!
An arrow to their heart
Won't make things restart!
© From A Quarantined Poet's ♥️
4/29/20
May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
Here And Now
for Barbara
There are words
I've had to save myself from,
like My Lord and Blessed Mother,
words I said and never meant,
though I admit a part of me misses
the ornamental stateliness
of High Mass, that smell
of incense. Heaven did exist,
I discovered, but was reciprocal
and momentary, like lust
felt at exactly the same time—
two mortals, say, on a resilient bed,
making a small case for themselves.
You and I became the words
I'd say before I'd lay me down to sleep,
and again when I'd wake—wishful
words, no belief in them yet.
It seemed you'd been put on earth
to distract me
from what was doctrinal and dry.
Electricity may start things,
but if they're to last
I've come to understand
a steady, low-voltage hum
of affection
must be arrived at. How else to offset
the occasional slide
into neglect and ill temper?
I learned, in time, to let heaven
go its mythy way, to never again
be a supplicant
of any single idea. For you and me
it's here and now from here on in.
Nothing can save us, nor do we wish
to be saved.
Let night come
with its austere grandeur,
ancient superstitions and fears.
It can do us no harm.
We'll put some music on,
open the curtains, let things darken
as they will.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
AT THE NIHILIST’S FUNERAL
(Hope delivers the eulogy)
He was always so interestingly wrong.
I loved him, in fact for years couldn’t live
without him, he who helped crystallize
what I thought by being so opposed to it.
But it’s time to rejoice.
Some of the invisible roads
that run parallel to the great boulevards
can be seen now; the era of darkness-
as-illumination has passed. It was useful
while it lasted, but how nice to discover
that so few of us count on negatives
these days to preserve what we hold dear.
My friends, if you can think of me
as such, take heart. Meaninglessness
has ended its long run at the Palace.
Already, a few of us mere specks
in the universe have begun
to insist on our importance.
May the odors of lilac and laurel waft
across the river, and float over his grave.
The great nihilist is dead. He’ll rise again
when needed. He always has.
But those of you standing now,
having turned your backs to me in protest,
how right that you honor him so.
It’s the kind of negation that he, I suspect,
would have thought might lead somewhere,
might even have thought was hopeful.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
We met by Dunn& Co
the hat people
on the corner
of the New Kent Road
Helen had a faded green dress on
and was carrying her doll
Battered Betty in one arm
her thick lens glasses
were smeary
her brown hair plaited
what are you going to show me?
she asked
have you seen
the pie and eel shop
up the road there?
no don't think so
well this guy stands inside
the shop by the window
and he takes an eel
and cuts its head off
then slits it open
then scraps out its guts
then cuts it up
into pieces ready
to be cooked for pies
I said
she pulled a face
is that
what you wanted
to show me?
yes it's very interesting
and helps you see
how it goes
and is kind
of a biology lesson
without the crabby
old teacher moaning on
I said
Helen was not impressed
I’ll be sick if I see that
he really cuts its head off?
sure he does
and quick and clean
no messing around
and scraps it
into a bin by his feet
Helen held her doll
closer to her chest
and slits it open?
yes he's a quick worker
one slit and all the guts
are scrapped out
enough already
she said
she put a small hand
to her mouth
I hate eels
I hate eel pie
she said
between her fingers
her doll leaned over her arm
its arms hanging loose
so do I
but it's interesting
to see these things
not to me it isn't
she said
ok let's go elsewhere
I said
where?
we could go to The Cut
and look at the market stalls
and maybe get a drink of pop
and an ice cream
she looked down
at her scuffed shoes
I’ve only got 3d
she said
I’ve got 2/-
that'll be enough
I said
she looked at me
through her glasses
her eyes like marbles
ok but we must make sure
Betty gets a drink too
she said
sure
I said
she can share mine
so we set off
from Dunn& Co
at a steady pace
Betty looked unimpressed
bouncing along
in Helen’s arms
one eye hanging loose
her blonde mattered hair
and I listened
while Helen
talked and talked
all the way there.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 5:00 AM UTC
Ingrid's words
were muffled
when she spoke to me
by Dunn's hat shop
where we said
we'd meet
the day before
her thick lip
(where he father
had backhanded her)
moved slowly
does you dad
wear hats?
she asked
looking in
the shop window
no
I said
never seen him
ever wear a hat
not even to cover
his balding head
she looked
at the passing traffic
what happened to you?
I asked
pointing to her lip
my dad didn't like
the way I brushed
my hair
he said it was
too tartish
whatever that means
she said
tapping her
recently brushed hair
I tried to get out
of his way
but he caught me
with a backhand
I’m going
to the cinema
this afternoon
I said
there's a cowboy film on
and I want to see
how the good guy
draws out his gun
he does it
by crossing over
his hands
could I come?
she asked
Mum might give me
9d for a ticket
as long as Dad
doesn't know
she added
sure
I said
come to my flat
after lunch
we walked down
the subway
to get
to St George's Road
to walk along
to Bedlam Park
to try out
the swings there
and buy an ice cream
outside the swimming pool
(money I'd been given
by my old man
for polishing
his brown brogues)
I studied her
as we walked along
she talking
of her old man's temper
and how he punched
her mother
for letting
his dinner get cold
I noticed her
faded grey dress
the flowers red
against watery green stems
grey-white
ankle socks
black scuffed shoes
her thin hands
gesturing as she talked
and the slight smell
of dampness
as I neared her
the bruise
under her left eye
fading
like the morning sun
where her old man
had thumped her
for something
she hadn't done.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
Understanding you
is a thought I try not to have.
You are like alcohol.
I do not want you often, but when I do, I realize I want you more than I know, and I hold that thirst back.
Like Dunn says,
"If you were whiskey, I would be a **** drunk."
And a **** drunk I would be because you are the one whiskey,
wine,
cocktail,
shot, drink I cannot
reach on the shelf even when
I stretch my arms,
limits, and
beliefs to reach.
You are some kind of mindfuck.
Who am I kidding?
I am
a ****
drunk .
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
I am completely consumed
By this moment I get to spend by your side
This moment that will last the rest of our lives
And I could not be happier
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 12:18 AM UTC