"touchdowns" poems
the angel amongst us
~for Alexander, master splasher~
*flexibility is important when poetry writing in a warm tub and a long day ahead is scheduled; so willingly accept the autocorrect
for I am both an experienced poet and bath soaker and
believer in wondrous mystery and unexpected fumbles
that lead to to miracle touchdowns
~•~
the two mathematicians examine the angle, measure the degree of difference at intersection and bless it with an identity,
calling it by its name,
perhaps obtuse, perhaps right, perhaps both
two sets of eyes examine the angle,
study its ****** expression
the old man says:
see the angle on the clock formed by the big handle on the twelve and the little hand on the eight?
this is angle of eight o’clock:
time to stop the splashing and start the get-readying
for we have miles to go before the ocean can say hello!
little angel says angle no go
and slashes the water with both
hands to establish the firmness of his views
and change Einstein’s time from present to future
the angle depends on the perspective of the viewer
the old poet comprehends leaving a warm tub is a regretful thing
but he measures the degree of difference at this
intersection
of time and bath and blesses it with an identity
“time to go”
the angle of my angel is now 2 pointed arms, pointed straight up,
at the twelve o'clock,
as he stands up in fevered protest,
my arms sweep his little legs to
a point at eight o’clock,
angel, commenting on his swift flight
disputes the grandfathers physics
"no go now,
now go later^"
though the angle is unchanged
the perspective of time and space
(and traffic),
yet differs
one sees an angle,
the angel sees time
eternally folding in on itself*
that is the angle amongst us
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
My eyes they start to close
as my mind does drift away
I slip from conscious thoughts
to a dreamworld without delay.
I dream of slaying dragons
and of basking in the sun
oh this dreamworld that I go to
is filled with wondrous, merry fun.
I am the king of dreamworld
I can do whatever I please.
I can drive a lamborghini
or I can sail the seven seas.
I can speak another language
and throw touchdowns for the Saints.
Oh dreamworld, oh dreamworld
you are so much more than great.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 7:05 AM UTC
Superb Owl sat in front of his TV.
The more he ate, the more touchdowns he'd see.
The more he drank, the better did his team.
Let's all share Superb Owl's superb scheme!
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
Ever wondered about my style?
What I admire and what I deem vile?
Well, gather around, I'll let you see
Who I am, through what else, but poetry?
My favorite flower is a cherry blossom.
As for food, bread is awesome.
I spend much of my time on Twitter.
I like birds, the ones that flutter.
My favorite author is Ms. Anne Rice.
Her book, "Memnoch" is very nice.
My favorite poet is Aleister Crowley.
As for artist, that would be Dali.
I like Reggae straight from Trenchtown.
Most of all, I like System of a Down.
Philip Wesley is my favorite composer.
If I may be so bold, Chopin, move over.
My favorite film is Sweeney Todd.
By my top director, who is slightly odd.
Johnny Depp is my favorite actor and hunk.
I'm not a fan of touchdowns and dunks.
A big interest is Nutrition and Health.
I'm against Corporations and Banks, with all their wealth.
I like Documentaries and things that make me think.
Carrot juice is one of my favorite things to drink.
My favorite painting hangs on my wall.
The artist or name, I have not a clue at all.
I like eating cherries and playing pretend.
I like talking to those I consider a friend.
I like dancing at raves, even on the stage.
I like my job, though it's minimum wage.
I'm good without gods, I bow to none.
No political party, with that, I'm done.
That about sums me up, I hope you see
My likes and interests described to a tee,
In the fashion of the rhyme scheme A and B.
Did I mention the fact that I write poetry?
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
Some want to be remembered
for their touchdown record.
Some want to be remembered
for their body count.
Some want to be remembered
for their brilliance.
But I want to be remembered
for my kindness.
I will admit, I look back and remember the boy who always scored the touchdowns that always made our student section roar and fill with happiness.
I will admit, I look back and remember the girls who told funny, yet repulsive stories about their adventures of sleeping with random guys.
I will admit, I look back and remember the brainiacs and how they could make something as minuscule as a piece of gum a deep conversation starter.
But I will also admit, that looking back they have no significance to me.
Looking back, I remember the people who were kind above all else, I think of those people more frequently and hope they are doing well.
I remember those people and admire them for staying positive in a world so hopeless and full of hate and negativity.
I remember those people and feel a little less alone and know that they would be there if I called.
I wonder if those people are out in the world right now, spreading even more positivity and making others feel a little less insignificant.
I aspire to be remembered by kindness.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 1:33 AM UTC
A striped field on the screen.
Late Sunday afternoon--
preaching your adored game.
The tackles, the tight end, the safety,
the touchdowns, the fumbles and field goals.
All your precious babble
into my ear--then gone.
Burly-beef-boys charging
are not in any way my motive.
Your urgent concern to inform of
the game I'll never know.
Terminology spat,
your message lost in clouds.
My eyes are attentively listening,
but only to your charming presence.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
SPRING IS
Rainbows and flowers,
Umbrellas and showers.
Easter eggs and bunnies
And bees making honey.
Green grass and daffodils
And hiking on new trails.
Gardens and fishing poles
And leisurely strolls.
SUMMER IS
Sunflowers and kites
And kids riding bikes.
Sunshine and shade,
Hot dogs and lemonade.
Sandcastles and waves
And long lazy days.
Home runs and sliders
And flying new gliders.
FALL IS
Long walks and sweaters,
Touchdowns and headers.
Red leafs and golden,
Soon to be stolen.
Pumpkins and costumes
And witches on brooms.
Turkey and dressing
And family blessings.
WINTER IS
Snowmen and scarfs,
Getting warm by the hearth.
Ice skates and hot chocolate
And gloves in your pocket.
Trees all alight
And cold winter nights.
Santa and sneezes
And little baby Jesus.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
Turning the pages of Sunday’s paper,
eyes spilling tears upon reading
of the ambush killing of a local cop,
and elsewhere, cops as killers,
the horror of the murders
of twenty angels and their guardians
at a small-town school,
people just having a holiday party,
going to a movie,
people attending church, for god’s sake.
I make my way to the sports section,
that fantasy-land of touchdowns,
home runs and slam dunks,
only to find stories of drunken outfielders
and homicidal/suicidal linebackers
wielding pistols
followed by a half-page ad
for the Guns and Gear store,
urging me to get in on the deals—
an assault rifle, only $649.99,
semi-automatic pistols from $319 to $549,
all the ammo a person could need
to shoot up a school, a theater, a mall, a business,
a synagogue or mosque or church,
even an army base.
My sorrow vinegars to frustration and anger,
that my letters to so-called representatives
must be written on thousand dollar bills
to even get a reading,
answered by a staffer’s reply that says nothing,
and, in the end, dear god,
I’m left with prayer and poetry,
the children of necessity, drowning in futility.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
and rustled the paper
and went straight to
the sports section and the
box scores where statistics can be
compared relative across generations
completely missed the obituaries
the Editorials
the Advertisements
because
Batting Averages Yards Gained
Touchdowns Home Runs
Saves
are comparative back through centuries,
Editorials and ads are slanted.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 2:52 AM UTC
For the rest of 2018, I'm going to take the time off to take care of myself mentally, physically, and psychologically. This year has been insane, in both the literal and figurative, but there are times when life just feels like you're being drained and there's not motivation to do anything. That's what I'm going through right now. Life is just hard. And I know that there is some space in the darkness, and maybe, I'll reach that stage, but right now, I can't. As ironic as that is to my own morals and values, it's even harder to admit that to myself. Let alone to others. I hope that you're doing better than I am, and may God bless you in all aspects of your life. Take care of yourself; take care of the people around you. Most of all, follow your passions, and your drive and discipline will take you beyond your goals. And you'll score touchdowns. Peace. SWord out.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
Stepping on carpet
(climbing onto rock)
We stare at screen
(I cast my spell...)
I CAN conquer man's demise.
Touchdowns
convert to gazing into the scripts of our souls.
Stagnant and somber,
you are inches away
I am in floating in space
I sit on couch
(or sitting on active volcano?)
and stare at blank walls
(or cotton candy sunsets?)
And I grab your hand
and we float out the window
(much like Peter Pan and Wendy)
and we are Icelandic campers
we are North African monkeys grooming each other
we are Alaskan sibling salmon, swimming to the exact spot our eggs once resided
always against current
teasing the brown bear
we are slipping penguins
the sea lions watch our transition
from awkward wobbling
to graceful gliding
figure eighting
between icebergs
We have so much energy that the gulls
might bet on us melting the bergs
we are gas and light and air and water and mother moon
we are so much more than this cancerous room
I know it. You know it.
Instead we groan at fumbles
and pile plates high with lays potato chips
layered grief stuck between tongue and cheek
Goodbye my dear friend.
I know you heard me.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 10:30 PM UTC
i never thought of myself as someone with school spirit
but
i'll spend my fridays
decked out in purple
dotted with black and white
i'll dance in the crowd
while the band plays us out
i'll work on losing my voice
while we head to the tailgate
i'll work on numbing my feet
while we dance to knock-off dj beats
i'll jump to my feet
when our team takes the field
i'll join in on the cheers
when our band shows up
i'll worry about my voice tomorrow
cuz right now
we're losing it over touchdowns
i'll worry about my clothes tomorrow
cuz right now
we're laughing while the rain pours down
i'll worry about it all tomorrow
cuz right now
we're dancing under stadium lights
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC