"gino" poems - Hello Poetry

An early evening gust broke the back of the day's blaze Still 90 degrees at eight in orange haze Sweat runs down my neck Through the gorge between my ******* The wind lifts my linen shirt runs its hands along my sides reviving memory of Forest Park of a blanket in the grass Where the pines trace so many faces Crackling popping kids stolen matches, running screaming victorious! Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk That whole afternoon I spent hammering caps Noise really makes us kids really especially annoying Mom wants us out! Gone! All of us! No needs. No excuses! No cookies! No slices of bologna! “No more Kool Aid! Out now! Out!” That evening I tried to dismiss the itchy sweat of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits at Gino's family picnic When some kid (I don't know?) between the rigatoni and the sweet corn Some kid tosses a sparkler into box of fireworks I don't know? whether to cry or laugh I was pretty scared Rockets going off across the lawn and onto porch Craze of colors through the trees Some at eye-level horror! But the sight of Aunt Nedda diving under picnic table Stockings, garter belt upended Capsized beyond her caring of uplifted dress Some images just stay with you, ya know? July 4th always lands for me on a firework's ***

0

Jul 3, 2018

Jul 3, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC

elizabeth-balise

July 4th Memories that Last

An early evening gust broke the back of the day's blaze Still 90 degrees at eight in orange haze Sweat runs down my neck Through the gorge between my ******* The wind lifts my linen shirt runs its hands along my sides reviving memory of Forest Park of a blanket in the grass Where the pines trace so many faces Crackling popping kids stolen matches, running screaming victorious! Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk That whole afternoon I spent hammering caps Noise really makes us kids really especially annoying Mom wants us out! Gone! All of us! No needs. No excuses! No cookies! No slices of bologna! “No more Kool Aid! Out now! Out!” That evening I tried to dismiss the itchy sweat of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits at Gino's family picnic When some kid (I don't know?) between the rigatoni and the sweet corn Some kid tosses a sparkler into box of fireworks I don't know? whether to cry or laugh I was pretty scared Rockets going off across the lawn and onto porch Craze of colors through the trees Some at eye-level horror! But the sight of Aunt Nedda diving under picnic table Stockings, garter belt upended Capsized beyond her caring of uplifted dress Some images just stay with you, ya know? July 4th always lands for me on a firework's ***

56

Was he a disciple or just a friend of Jesus So many to choose from it carries on through the ages Whether you hail from the sunny realms of Brazil as Juan Or lead your life on the bus tops of Paris, showboating to the tourists as Jean you are always just John Did you see that goal on Sunday in Barnsley from Pedro crossed in on a sixpence by that guy on loan from Bristol Parading as the next man to steal the footballing thrown from Beckham Just a council house kid from the block down in Peckham again, just John Kissing the Blarney stone an excuse for his gob the banter the laughter hiding the rile in his job that day in Ireland that Sean always dreams of going back would be heaven, to find the girl he should have once loved again, just John The shores of Naples looking out over the sea Ischia, Procida, Capri, the place he’d rather be behind lays dormant, Vesuvius once angry Pompeii, Herculaneum destroyed in its fury now time to spread his net and look for new shores only Gino knows it’s time to open new doors again, just John No matter where you are from there is somebody like you just struggling along troubles brew in every corner of this planet don’t think it’s just you who really cannot stand it again, just John Difficulty is rife no matter where you seem to look your boss is a grievance and you wish them long gone but it’s not just you, it’s you and every other John so I’ll say it again without a look in the mirror I know your stress my friend because I am that man yes that is me I am just John

0

Oct 5, 2015

Oct 5, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC

john-bartholomew

Just John

Was he a disciple or just a friend of Jesus So many to choose from it carries on through the ages Whether you hail from the sunny realms of Brazil as Juan Or lead your life on the bus tops of Paris, showboating to the tourists as Jean you are always just John Did you see that goal on Sunday in Barnsley from Pedro crossed in on a sixpence by that guy on loan from Bristol Parading as the next man to steal the footballing thrown from Beckham Just a council house kid from the block down in Peckham again, just John Kissing the Blarney stone an excuse for his gob the banter the laughter hiding the rile in his job that day in Ireland that Sean always dreams of going back would be heaven, to find the girl he should have once loved again, just John The shores of Naples looking out over the sea Ischia, Procida, Capri, the place he’d rather be behind lays dormant, Vesuvius once angry Pompeii, Herculaneum destroyed in its fury now time to spread his net and look for new shores only Gino knows it’s time to open new doors again, just John No matter where you are from there is somebody like you just struggling along troubles brew in every corner of this planet don’t think it’s just you who really cannot stand it again, just John Difficulty is rife no matter where you seem to look your boss is a grievance and you wish them long gone but it’s not just you, it’s you and every other John so I’ll say it again without a look in the mirror I know your stress my friend because I am that man yes that is me I am just John

34

Sr_gino I want you my Bezellé, Lips like morphine I'm high off your speech to. They tell me I like you no I'm just like you Busy all the time and my girlfriend left me...now I reach for any drink cause they understand me ya know.. I fall so hard for your accent I try to play it grown but all I want you to do is listen. Can't feel I'm here your there not erected.. We all have our obsessions Sometimes..sometimes. You drink to let go I'm here oh I know.. Give me time again We all have our obsessions Sometimes...sometimes.. ...sometimes I wait to see if your gunna text good morning like the olds days... Looking at my phone like one day he gone text me. We all have our obsessions... Sometimes...sometime.

0

Nov 29, 2014

Nov 29, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC

Xelle

Sr_gino

Sr_gino I want you my Bezellé, Lips like morphine I'm high off your speech to. They tell me I like you no I'm just like you Busy all the time and my girlfriend left me...now I reach for any drink cause they understand me ya know.. I fall so hard for your accent I try to play it grown but all I want you to do is listen. Can't feel I'm here your there not erected.. We all have our obsessions Sometimes..sometimes. You drink to let go I'm here oh I know.. Give me time again We all have our obsessions Sometimes...sometimes.. ...sometimes I wait to see if your gunna text good morning like the olds days... Looking at my phone like one day he gone text me. We all have our obsessions... Sometimes...sometime.

18