"kalamazoo" poems
Before dawn I ride through dimly lit streets
Mid-September and the air is cool and damp
Students wait at the bus stop – some talk, some text
The moon, in the last sliver, courts Venus
Together they drift as if hand-in-hand while clouds slip quietly past
Ghostly with gray shadows
Cross-town Parkway to Kings Highway
The sounds of industry growl
The River Valley Trail
Pulls me from the road
Along the Kalamazoo River, the fog creeps across fields
The sun’s first rays warm the sky
On the river, mist swirls as dawn approaches, gold threads twisting upward
Near Galesburg, another commuter joins me
The conversation makes the trip a bit shorter
The rooster crows twice this morning as we ride past
The last stretch along L-Avenue through quiet woods and fields
Glimpse a deer or a coyote, a rabbit, or an owl
As we climb the final hill of our ride
The mist billows incandescent in the sunlight
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 2:03 AM UTC
****** a ***** in Timbuktu
Rode her all the way to Kalamazoo
Told to ***** to blow my kazoo
And I'd shove my finger in her tutu
I wish all of this we're true
The only ******* I get say moo
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
I had an Indian Fakir come
To stay, from Uttar Pradesh,
I was doing a friend a favour,
I don’t, as a rule, have guests,
I couldn’t make out a single word
He said, and so my friend
Provided a written commentary
To guide me, in the end.
It seems he was naming my furniture
It’s something that they do,
In places that are incongruous
Like the depths of Kalamazoo,
And he wanted to give them English names
So he asked my friend’s advice,
In case I couldn’t pronounce them,
Well, at least the thought was nice.
My armchair became Albert
And my settee Gunga Din,
I suppose he thought it would be okay
As it was from Kipling.
The tallboy was called Gerald
And the wardrobe, simply Joe,
The polished table Cheryl
And the kitchen one was Flo.
I’m glad that he wrote them down because
I can’t remember names,
Just that the bed was Susan
And the kitchen sink was James,
Some of them were portentous like
Ignatius, for the desk,
While each of the kitchen chairs was given
A name that ends with -este.
Celeste, Impreste, Doneste and Geste
And then of course, Ingeste,
I couldn’t remember which was which,
My friend was not impressed.
We bade farewell to the Fakir
And the Wardrobe flapped its doors,
And rumbled out a ‘Goodbye my friend’
From between its mighty jaws.
Then voices rose in a chorus from
Each part of my tidy home,
The names had given them each a voice,
It was rowdier than Rome,
The voices were accusatory
Trying to lay some guilt,
And Susan said of the Wardrobe, Joe,
‘He’s looking up my quilt!’
‘How could I help it,’ Joe replied,
‘I’m at the foot of the bed,
You’re flashing me with your silken sheets,
It’s doing in my head!’
While Albert grumbled in voice so deep,
‘Do I have to be a chair?
Each time you plonk on my tender seat
I’m gasping out for air!’
Then the kitchen chairs were out of place
And James was choked with suds,
The carpet, name of Emily
Was sick of traipsing mud.
It seemed that the polished table top
Was scratched, and she was mad,
The desk disliked my keyboard so
To each, I answered ‘Sad!’
‘You’re going to have to get along
I won’t put up with this,
Until that Fakir came along
This house was perfect bliss.’
I did away with their English names,
Replaced them with Chinese,
But they couldn’t speak a word of it
So I brought them to their knees!
And peace returned to Grissom Place
Just as I thought it would,
I made it plain to Wardrobe Joe
‘You’re just a lump of wood.’
While Susan smooths her quilt right down
And tucks her sheets right in,
And James just blubs, he’s full of suds
As I nap on Gunga Din!
David Lewis Paget
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 7:40 PM UTC
Well
not so sure I think or feel
but it was a hot day
the kind to make your skin melt
and you want to take it off
so your bones can breathe
but ****** is illegal
in Kalamazoo
so we must be polite
to the locals
eat the bacon fat like good people do
love air like lemonade
bitter and delicious
refreshing in the right circumstances
loving the smoke
so sensual
in and out
controlled and contorted by lips
pillars billowing
cliched
but so **** fine
thick and formless
it disappears
but for a moment
it's yours
theirs
yummy
wrists crack like silly skeletons
jumping around
clowns in the heavens
what are you saying
my dear boy(s)
you think you're in love?
I think you're in
for one hell of a ride
if you're into
cremating your dignity
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 11:01 PM UTC
(Type in “Robert Frost”)
Whose woods these are, I have no clue.
I should be in Kalamazoo;
I made a left instead of right
And saw Costco and a J. Crew.
My GPS must think it strange
That my cell phone is out of range.
I’m already late but I don’t care;
Once again, my plans will change.
I know that I’ve made a mistake.
I’ve passed two Sears, a Steak-n-Shake,
three Wal-Marts, and a Lowe’s or two,
A small bread shop that smelled of cake.
I drive and drive in my red Jeep.
I pass a farm and start to weep.
The only things I see are sheep.
The only things I see are sheep.
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 1:11 AM UTC
There's more to this little brown bottle than the sunshine within,
and if you search across the hills of Kalamazoo
you'll find the meaning of gold.
Cheers to this:
the smell of barbecue and grass
and the taste of oranges drenched in ale
and sunlight.
As the fire crackles
and the flames move like the flags we claim,
I can hear each individual string
on a friend's guitar
as they tell a story of an everlasting summer.
When it's cold
the sun smiles and burns
as the sound of cannonballs piercing aqua blue waves
washes through your body
clad in pink
skin,
and fabrics
seen from many
and any
wandering eye.
As the hi-hat sizzles,
so too does your soul,
and that's why you can't help but
dance dance dance.
But just like any season,
this friendly brown bottle
is a moment in time.
Winter must come,
people must go,
but somewhere in the recipe for your favorite drink
are all of their names
glistening in gold.
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
Cool are the streets before sunrise
I pedal my daily route through downtown Kalamazoo
Past the Art Institute and Civic
And out through Riverfront Park on the Valley Trail
Across the river on M96 I head east toward sunrise
The road is slightly dampened by the dew
And the trees on each side of the highway stand tall
Framing the sun as I make the first curve slightly east-north-east
In symmetry, the sun lies between the trees
Above the road, floating round, brilliant
Just inside the zone of a photographer's eye
The sun, the road, the trees, the mist – all ablaze in orange.
A dangerous time to ride so close to traffic
The lenses of my glasses scatter the light in condensation
I pedal hard to pass through this section
And ride into Galesburg stopping at the lights
Passing through town out Michigan Ave
I cross the Kalamazoo River but stop for a moment in stride
As the cold air nudges swirls of fog to dance on the surface
Lit from behind by the rising sun, golden, quiet, ghostly into the distance
Out onto my last few miles where the road is rough
It climbs out of the river valley up two hundred feet
Into winding country roads away from most traffic
And closer to the farms and woods
The air is now heavy with the dampness of the woods
There is only the breeze I bring with me
I crest a hill after a long climb but I do not coast on the slight reprieve
As there is new and old roadkill serviced by carrion birds in the mist
I am at my destination on another beautiful morning and I think
What wonders have I seen that my peers miss in their race on the highway
What smells of wild garlic, split oak, and musk of raccoon, skunk, and possum, and sweat
What satisfaction I have as I shower off the cold, and insects, and ride from my skin
August 20, 2013
Kalamazoo, MI
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
By the order of something or another
Came from the village in between
Passed onto the royal subjects
By the buzzing of the bees
Princess Pantry would attend
The vast masquerade ball
Where wine, larger, and lemonade
Would be dispersed by waterfall
Jolly Jasper was flabergastered
When he was invited too
He now had a chance to wear his party hat
He'd pick up in Kalamazoo
His dancing partner would be
None other than Sombrero Sam
Who'd been dancing the Samba
Since she was in a pram
The Tulip Twins will bring party favors
They'd picked from the garden that day
Where their exploding Snap Dragons
and Popping Pansies
Are bound to blow the guests away
Plus their homemade whoopie cushions
With all the sounds that they secrete
Are sure to leave the party guests
Without an appetite to eat
Between all the snickers and the giggles
From those that are there by chance
Will be oblivious to the Royal Procession
As they continue on in dance
By the order of something or another
Came from the village in between
Passed onto the royal subjects
By the buzzing of the bees
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
I once met a man from Kalamazoo
Who bore on his arm an anchor tattoo
One day his lover
Ran off with his brother
Whatever was the poor man to do?
He sat down on a bus bound for Georgia
But somehow he wound up in Maine
And there he said ***** it."
He pretty well blew it
And got on a boat bound for Spain
When the captain was making his rounds
He saw the man grinding coffee grounds
And he saw the mans ink
And he stopped to think
"Is that man a part of the crew?"
That's when the captain's daughter came up
And asked the man if he could spare a cup
When the man met her eye
He nearly did die
For the beautiful woman he spied
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 11:43 AM UTC
I have in my hand , the very dollar bill , was a cash settlement for postage stamps in Chattahoochee Hills , same bill that fed the Kitty at a strip joint in Dallas , bought a Charms Sucker at a bowling alley in Texarkana ! Helped pay the rent on a duplex in Santa Fe , went toward the water bill in Reno , Nevada. On its way to New Orleans , handed off by a trucker in Abilene . Handed over to a **** dealer from Chattanooga , wound up in a offering plate in Kalamazoo , Michigan !
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
With the reception I'm getting from you
I might as well be in Timbuktu
It's a growing feeling of deja vu
All my words you misconstrue
I tried to explain till in the face I'm peacock blue
One of these days your gonna get whats due
And life, on you is gonna chew
And spit you out like rancid stew
Then maybe you will feel bad for what you do
Treating me like a pair of old brown shoes
Walking on me until your through
An apology is overdue
Don't give me that look you know it's true
With you every thing is a hullabaloo
I think I'll find someone new
With them I'll move to Kalamazoo
There my life you can't askew
©Pauline Russell
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
He was an Uber driver
From Kalamazoo
Who went on a rampage
But who knew
It was something
That an Uber driver would do
Even one who apparently
Was missing a *****
He dropped off a group
In record time
Which conveniently left him
Next door to the crime
Where sadly he was about to
Lose his mind
As police investigators
Were forced to find
Six in total
Were about to die
And no one’s figured out
The reason why
He would shoot perfect strangers
Bye and bye
But he certainly did
And that’s no lie
Now the crazed driver
Is in custody
Why did he do it
I don’t know (search me)
It was so inexplicable
That it’s hard to see
His rational or reasoning
Which would be key
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 5:34 PM UTC
In America, nichts neues. Death stalks street corners
like a lurking cassowary. Blood the National Color.
Random acts of madness practiced from ambush.
General lack of civility. Shout each other down.
The Other is out there being otherwise. Fear.
Arm yourselves! Disarm yourselves! Dead anyway.
Impenetrable, crystalline, indestructible ignorance.
Nothing to be done but hold on by sitting tight
until the next blasts of rage rend the night.
~mce
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC
Sitting in the dining car of a 1996 Amtrak rail car clamoring for the next available outlet.
Across from me is a bohemian mistress who looks like she just wandered into the car from the 70's.
Out of place in this time and type of train. She sits silently reading a a favorite work from one the the greater unknown Inspirational-ist's.
An occasional giggle fills the air from a joke only she knows and understands. Disregard for the rules and regulations around her. Oblivious to the others in the car snacking on sandwiches and slurping up their pops.
I notice though. I sit and can't help but look at her. There's a wonder and awe about her persona. A pull towards her careless aura. It's intoxicating.
We hit Kalamazoo and like a hiccup she's gone.
Out to dance towards her next spot. Wherever that may be.
Still I sit. Waiting for my charging to be done
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
the location is a library between Oz and Timbuktu
with sections dedicated to Atlantis, Narnia, Kalamazoo
rummaging through the directory, notes tucked in my shoe
then, Off on the way to Makkah to pray, I've no time to waste in true!
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 1:12 AM UTC
Luscious western wind comes daily to kalamazoo
She told me she was my mistress
I took it as all kool
Kool wave rider
In his older years
Still got it mamaa
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
I went to see the doctor
he was full of doom and gloom
he said I need to see the doctor
that is in another room
So I went back to New York City
because it's been so many years
and I looked up at all the buildings
and my eyes just filled with tears
Then I headed out to Vegas
just to see what I could do
but it was way too much money
so I got on a plane and I flew
Then I fell into the ocean
and ended up in Kalamazoo
so I drove to Carolina
and I listened to Dr Wu
And then I went back to the doctor
and he said he didn't know
and I said it didn't matter
so he told me all was well
So I called up the preacher
and I told him all is lost
he told me not to worry
then he tallied up his cost
Then I left for Mississippi
but she was there no more
so I went to California
with the cold and rocky shore
So I found a new profession
and I bought a brand new car
then I felt like drinking *****
with some tonic at the bar
And then I walked into the nighttime
and I swam from shore to shore
until my body couldn't take it
and then I did it some more
So I went back to see the doctor
and he asked me where I'd been
I said I walked across the nation
and it was all because of him
Then I felt like I was falling
and that was when he shut the door
he told me everything was broken
and that he could do no more
So I went to find another doctor
just to see what he would say
and he told me I was dreaming
but I didn't have to pay
Now I felt like God was calling
so I looked up in the sky
and he told me not to worry
but he didn't tell me why
So I went back to Indiana
and I found all of my friends
and I gathered all my family
and I said this is the end
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
Paris was okay and
Firenze was fine
Bombay was super
we had a hell
of a time, but the
jewel in the crown was
when we set right down
in Kalamazoo.
Everything new but the pace of the place,
restful, like eggs
over easy.
To please me
she played me
Tchaikovsky,
I
listened intently
which meant
she too
was pleased.
To tease me
she did
what
great lovers do
when they set up together
in Kalamazoo.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Things down past Flagstaff got nasty, no doubt,
more heat coming in than was getting back out.
It was maybe the 20th year of the drought;
valley fever came in, pretty much won that bout.
Gas prices went north, cooling systems went south;
things go **** up, you get down in the mouth.
Finally, unable to take any more
they pointed it north, ended up at our door.
We're already full; not a thing we could do;
fed them a meal, took a woman or two,
told lies about work up in Kalamazoo.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 8:27 AM UTC
threads borne onto wind like
spiders fly
off to Kalamazoo
or Greensburg
try
to make a home of substance
more centrified
like a cocoon
all cozy where
the grass is green the water sweet
the creek near
flowers grow wilder than in any envelope
of valentines
oh Bryan randomly Ohio I chose
to take my duffel pack to
open it
on the main street the boulevard
put out my sign
heart in need of healing
and await
see what happens
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
She must know how i feel when my time under the Kalamazoo sun has finally reached its purpose.
That when the end is in sight
the tears that fall are the last memories of my love for her.
With each drop comes happiness
cloaked in a blanket of melancholy
streaming down my face.
That when she looks up at the star lit sky searching for the awnsers in her life,
she sees my shooting star, finally making her wish come true.
*This love never changes
This love cannot be broken
This love is endless*.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
Me and the guys have been around
quite a long time
Hung out with women
most of our lives
It's now come to the point
where me and the guys
Would like to apologize
From all of the things
we've been sneaking around
Which ya'll probably know
but haven't let on
Thinking we've pulled the wool
over your eyes
But to you it's no surprise
All the times we've forgotten
to take the trash out
That's the funk from the trunk
but don't know what's the sound
And those nights you thought
that was just a bad dream
We really forgot to put down the seat
When we have that blank look
like we're lost in our thoughts
We're really sitting there
with no thoughts at all
And to save time and water
we believe a few squirts of Febreze
Can be more than a wonderful thing
That part when we say
we have to work late
It's true but only because
we slept at our desks all day
If that has you scratching
your head wondering why
When you're asleep we play video games all night
That's just a few
Of the things that us guys do
Believe me there's more
But we don't want to scare you
We're pretty sure
that if all it you knew
You'd ship us all off the Kalamazoo
I'm not sure about you
but I'm willing to bet
Like me that you're glad
We got that off our chest
All in good fun life keeps you laughing
So lets all just pretend
That none of this really happens
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 9:05 AM UTC