"tivoli" poems
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle
The rabbits beneath the deck,
Even the pesky deer who eat the shrubbery,
Sea creatures, living and spirits of the dead,
Lying on the paths and in the creeks of Silver Beach,
All inquire:
Was it better wherever you went?
Were the:
Bears, hiding in the forests outside Berlin,
Eagles, double headed, of Russia
Herring, fried, creamed, wined,
From the vendors on the docks of
Helsinki, Riga, Visby and Tallinn,
Salmon, smoked and cured in Stockholm,
More impressive,
Tastier than our striped bass,
Island cohorts of yours, who waited patiently
For their chronicler to return?
Did the Little Mermaid and her Dolphin
Guardians of the Port of Copenhagen
Welcome you more warmly than your friends,
The ospreys, lizards, turtles and owls
Who overwatch your steps and safety
When hiking in Mashomack Preserve?
Are the interlacing tidal creeks,
Woodlands, fields, salt marshes and the ragged,
Irregular but charmed coastline of this cherished island
Any lesser than those of Scandinavia?
Are the sea-going ferries that transverse the
Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Finland,
More poetic than the Menantic or the Lt. Joe,
Who carry you swiftly home to us?
The National Geographic people say that in
Tivoli Gardens, The Amerikaner (ha!) waffle ice cream cone
Is one of the ten best in the world.
Guessing they have not made it yet to the
Tuck Shop for some Moose Tracks!
Were you unaware that our isle settled before
Peter the Great ever envisioned creating the grand
Boulevards of his capitol, St. Petersburg,
Route 114 was a traveled forest path,
By settlers and Indians, not serfs.
Of the Treasures, the Gold Room of the Hermitage,
The Amber Room of Catherine's Palace,
Wrote not a single word, we observe.
Your attentions, they did not deserve?
The answers all, self evident.
Here, surrounded by the gentle breezes of
Long Island Sound and Gardiners Bay,
Sweet and salty flavors of the Peconic atmosphere,
Words unlocked, from your eyes to the page fall,
Smudged by joyous tears, for the muses of the island
Have embraced you yet again and rebirthed
Inspiration, within their comforting, sheltering grasp.
Silver Beach
July 22, 2012
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
In Lisbon, we blended
ended the day with spectacular culinary
Shopped and hopped side to side
In Dublin, we vented
as the whisky and Guinness was **** good
Shipped the hire car to Galway
In Italy, we invented
dropped coins in fountains of love we already held
From Florence, to Milan, to Rome, to Bologna
In Paris, I rented
alone in protests and hippies at Place De La Republique
Dreamt of you as they skated
In Romania, I persisted
up on the icy Tranfagarasan highway traps
I saw a bear and it had your eyes
In Stockholm, we insisted
As the Vasa sunk on tables of *****
Pecked on the trains and shied away.
In London, we protested
It was an ordinary day and the flowers didn't bloom
The Thames was gloomy and stale
In Oslo, we transmitted
The reindeer meal and cranberry was a disaster
The gloom followed us to southern skies
In Copenhagen, you were sorted
Smiled and amused by the Tivoli gardens
The night became day and the wind withered
In Amsterdam, we did what we did
Stored the memories on the reclaimed lands
Free-spirited in love and in eternity
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
She's back,
said Dalya,
the skinny Yank dame
is back, and shares my tent
with her perfume and talk;
her tales of whom she's had
and whom she's slept with
and how much they spent
on her and why and where.
Benny met me by the bar
in the Copenhagen base camp,
beers and smokes
and burgers and fries,
and me telling him
about the dame
and what she says
and does, and o that perfume
enough to drown in,
and he laughed
and said he heard
the Yank dame was after
the Aussie guy who
he shared a tent with
and the Aussie guy
was hot for her.
The base camp speakers
were pumping out Deep Purple,
high guitars
and bellowing vocals,
and Benny said when will
you and I get together again?
and I said
as soon as the dame goes
or leaves or shacks up
with another.
We went into the City
and saw some sights,
the Tivoli Gardens,
the Little Mermaid statue,
and had a few more beers
and smokes
and he kissed me
and it was a hot kiss,
and I wanted him,
but there was no where to go,
so I just carried
the image of him
back to my tent
and where I,
well you know.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
The darkness of the night lights up with brilliance
I stand in awe, for such beauty before my eyes
'Il tocco dolce della morte', 'The sweet touch of death' invades my form
Beauty beyond comparison, for feelings of such is surreal
Flashing colors zig-zag across the night sky,
making me feel more alive than ever before.
And I inhale the sweet, sweet scent.
Of the coming rain about to fall upon my form
The tingling sensation comes along slowly
Till finally it takes control of all within
Then.. Raindrops begin to fall
Fist slowly, then soon, covering me in all its glory
And I smile, arms held wide, taking all it sends forth
Eyes towards the sky, I watch as the darkness turns to light
Colors brilliantly flashing, turning all into a painting of majestic glory
And slowly I whisper..
'Il tocco dolce della morte'
'The sweet touch of death',, yes.. Has invaded me once more.
© Donna R Tivoli
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 1:47 PM UTC
What am I doing?
Ahhh, yes..
Moving towards the land of destruction.
I laugh.
Open another bottle
Pour the golden liquid in the tall glass
Clink..
Ice moves back and forth
I watch as the liquid lovingly caresses the small cubes
Bobbing up and down
Only it's your hands I see,
remember.
Eyes unfocused,
head starting to feel slightly dizzy
I still grin, a smile, like a secret is hidden deep inside there.
Is there?
'Chuckle'
The sound forms and passes through numb lips
Bruised, from the memory of yours
I close my eyes..
'Go away'
I whisper to the silence
But it does no good
For your smell still lingers
In each pore,
it seeps through
Tearing at me
Making me.....
Hard, I bite down on swollen lips.
A promise made
A promise broken
Like me.
You took,
I gave
You loved,
I caved,
right in..
To your majestic charms.
Oh how the mighty has fallen...
What am I doing?
Ahhh, yes..
That's right..
I'm moving towards the land of destruction.
© Donna R Tivoli
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Her explanation
Best explains,
She’s living rent free
Inside of his brain
A mere distraction
That always remains
The motivator of
His outrageous claims
She’s been vetted
A thousand times
All they’ve come up with
Are imagined crimes
“Lock her up,”
His base always chimes.
She’d be rich
If they paid her in dimes
I guess we could have
Anticipated
Him calling for her
To be investigated
For spying he says
Kind of belated
They used to be friends
But now she’s hated
He’s talked in the past
About giving out pardons
But when it come to her
His attitude hardens
It’s like the war
Of the ancient Spartans
Not like a stroll
Through Tivoli Gardens
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 11:46 AM UTC