"gawker" poems
Burns Creek
Climbing Chimney Rock.
Dad and David Scoville
In their mid 30s,
Two men out to prove
Their bravery,
Their derring-do.
Nervous,
My Mother,
My brother and I,
Five and six,
Necks craning,
Wait and watch;
Dad moves up and up
Clings to the top.
Inept and six,
I stand below,
Admiring my Father's
Fearlessness.
I am nearly blind,
The myopic, thick-lensed gawker,
Peering upward.
The men climb down,
Victorious,
The day’s challenges
Vanquished.
Heading home,
Choking dust.
Old land,
Deep ravines,
Rattle snake domain.
My father's old Ford
Bumps over red scoria,
Billows burning dust.
Ancient land,
Cindered clay,
Open grazing land,
Dry and hot.
Memories churn
From sixty years ago.
Feb 2, 2022
Feb 2, 2022 at 9:08 AM UTC
Oh how the mighty have fallen,
Fallen from their self proclaimed heights
Built upon cracked and half crumbling foundations.
And I stand before myself to gawk at the pitiful sight.
A shameful disposition amid the rubble, self admission.
How wise I was before!
How wise was I before?
Beg I ask myself, knowing of course the answer.
Not wise, not wise at all.
But did I see it coming?
Could I predict my own end?
Had I knowledge but chose to pretend?
Perhaps...
Somehow I feel another me.
Beside the Crumbled and the Gawker.
The old, outspoken, grey-bearded me
Stands there and shakes his head.
He knew all along it would come to this, said all along.
And all along I did ignore.
Pretended not to hear, but somehow heard.
Knew he was there, probably right, but I didn't care.
Deep in my subconcious mind did these inner me's converse
In a place outside of time, outside of space.
Somehow I recognise these words I told myself.
The unhealed man should not choose to build upon himself.
Time can not heal the wounds hidden from the light
Hidden out of sight. Left, to be an empty space
Covered over, but not erased. Never erased
But soon forgotten, until the Time of Rumbling
We all have such holes I know.
All have built upon ourselves and forgotten (or ignored)
That lies and misdeads lie beneath us,
Holding us up as we reach always higher.
Because of time, we have no time.
Because of fear, we have such fear!
We choose to build upon ourselves,
Not to heal, not to see whats clear.
But our future has long been spoken of,
By that older, white bearded self
Who, all knowing but outspoken,
Warns us of our doom.
So I urge you, as a crumbled man,
As a man gawking upon his crumbled self,
To tend to your soul, to resolve your wrongs,
Before building once more yourself.
To be healthy in pureness of pure exsistence.
To breath fresh air of honesty and truth honestly,
And to reach for selfless love, self-lovingly.
Then and only then, is it right to build again.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 6:10 AM UTC
transmitted ****** talks
(partially presented pablum pertaining
particularly - president ***** (PAC -
******* action *** mitt tee)
portfolio ******* philandering)
baneful boorish boastful bullheaded
Brobdingnagian beastie boy balks.
conspicuously cavalierly crudely curtly
cavorts, capitulating, claiming,
championing crying chauvinistic
concupiscence, ****** cupidity caul
king crooked cowboy cakewalks.
Donald daringly, dastardly, defiantly,
demonstrably, deplorably, deprecatingly,
devilishly, divinely dumbfounded,
duplicitously desultory, debauched, duckwalks.
eccentric effrontery, egregiously enervating,
excitedly exculpatory, extremely evil eyestalk.
"fake," faultily fervently fiendishly flagrant
fool, frightful.
gaffe galling, gamesome gawker, generating
gerrymandering.
harboring hectoring heinously hellishly
hideously horrendously horrible hulk.
ignominious illicit ilk, imbecilic immodest
immoral impetuous, impishly impudent,
incarcerate, incinerate indecently, indecorous,
iniquitous, intently intolerant, irascible
irksome, itching ii incite iv iiiiii ix *********** izards.
jowly ******* jackdaw jackknifing jaywalking
jumping **** jilting jinn.
knowingly keeping kryptonite, ***** Kardashian
kvetches, kris kringle ken kool, kissing kitty,
kosher kumquats kippered, k-nine kooky korps,
kowtowing ku klux **** kinsfolk.
legal leafstalk lawlessly locked, lacerated,
lambasted, languished lost lively lust,
limped, legal levity limited.
menfolk made macho mission. many moons
monthly mandate marked maybe mars,
mercurial maladroit monkey manumission modified
modus mystifying maze moonwalk.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
Every morning when she awoke
From her nightly repose,
There upon her doorstep lay
A single, crimson rose--
A rose as fresh and as fragrant as any
She'd ever smelled or seen.
She put it in a vase each day,
Wondering, "What could this mean?
Is it a secret admirer? Or could it
Be a secret gawker?"
Then a thought occurred to her:
"I hope it's not a stalker!"
She tried waiting up all night;
Her vigilance was in vain.
Every morning a new rose appeared
Despite wind or rain.
She figured that a surveillance camera
Would clarify everything surely.
"But maybe it's better left unsolved,"
She said to herself demurely.
So on and on the mystery of the roses
Continued year after year.
She was curious as to how long her secret
Admirer could persevere.
One day her neighbors noticed a pile
Of roses at her door.
Something wasn't right, for that
Had never happened before.
They entered her home and what they found
Caused them all to start:
Their lifeless neighbor lay on her bed
With a red rose over her heart.
- by Bob B
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 9:33 PM UTC