"trudy" poems
fischers rap
on a hot tin roof
bristol creek pools
over rock and seed
english wolfhound (and the barkbuster)
stroll pine lane
vibrant colors
of a cool spring
in cob yellow and
forest green
field mice squander
in cotton wind
goats and ferret
hold seven hour trim
raven and ****
meddle and forage (on a splendid fiaker goulash!)
crickets and frogs
hidden
in swollen grey logs
creepers fill the
cut stone walls
coy wolf high
on a frayed white rope
eagles perched
at trudy’s bend
catamounts laze
on a snow base cedar
(pared arbutus bent
through a failed ground rock)
brush spider spins
a timely web
brown bears fumble
at the spirit jamboree
quizzical squirrels
crack their nuts
as pillow clouds float
over telegraph trail
12 point dances
on talus and scree
hen hawks float
in a big hard sun
clydesdale and coach
trot copper smith road
(glancing down
on finch and the warbler
whistling through
colander row)
lavender fills
the peat soil box
mountain cats
guard the heavenly gates
black eyed ridge
is wide and open
the country squire hails
this fruitful land
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 12:18 AM UTC
Trudy.Lends her heart. Kind. You shouldn't mind. To a friend who's beyond distraught. She tries. Guides. Often lies. To protect herself from the world. Lord. The mask, she wears, it's a disguise. Inside, she cowers in fear. Oh dear. Layers. Trudy. Outside. All you'll see is Happiness. A joyful judy. Bright light. Inside. She's Fearless. Fighting. Completed and undefeated. Misleading. Deceiving. She cries, although she tries, she finds it hard to get by. Trudy. Trust. Happiness. She'll find it. Blinding. Guiding. A bright light. Find her. Don't mind me. You'll see. She needs. You. Under. What she hides. At first glance, she'll lie. A trance. You'll have to pry. Try. You'll see, she's not like you and me. Trudy.
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
Rock n’ roll music, Folger’s, and paint-smeared hands.
Dresser drawers filled to the brim with undeveloped camera film.
Blue bonnets and overgrown grass, pecans and crunching fall leaves.
Dirt roads and river-rocks, typewriters, polaroid cameras, and feather-quill pens.
Those hand-me-down blue eyes and brown ones that are “sometimes hazel.”
Crystal clusters and Lord of the Rings.
Countless mosquito bites and play-pretend games in the clubhouse.
Early-birds and night-owls.
Trudy; and Randy Hayes.
“Don’t touch everything you see,” and “If you say you’re bored, I’ll find work for you to do.”
Sweet tea and okra and southern dishes blackened and drenched in cheese or gravy.
Grandma always burned everything to make sure it was fully cooked, and to her, it was never burned, just “well-done.”
Cigarettes and carpentry and cookbooks. Wild blackberries and birthday parties at the lake.
Sleeping in all day and staying up all night and procrastination.
Shepherd's Pie, potatoes, and four-leaf clovers.
“Nil Desperandum. Never Despairing.”
I’m from a whole house that eats eggs for breakfast, and I’m allergic to eggs.
And trees as tall as buildings and buildings as tall as trees.
“You should never take the lord’s name in vain,” and “Jesus loves you, so you should love others.”
Day-dreams and stargazing and thunderstorms.
“All or nothing,” and “There is no try, only do.”
Old family pictures in dust-glittered frames.
We are crystals. We have facets, each one makes us who we are.
With only one window of our lives to express, we’d merely be glass.
I am a part of each of these things just as much as they are each a part of me.
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 12:36 AM UTC
Trudy the Trout
Having been spawned one sunny day
Sparkles rainbow colors
As she frolics in the lake
Spends time in school with friends
Learning to survive
What parts are safe to nibble
When the man throws out his fishing line
When Trudy's not in school
How that sweet fishy loves to play
Swimming among the hidden treasures
At the bottom of the lake
One day she swam up to the top
Curious to have a look
Grabbed by a hawk with her last thought of
This here can't be good
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
We loved you
Pumpkin pie
And you
Bahzie boy
My bridge to the
Equine kingdom
Mitten, you made
My wife like cats
Begins a tragedy of three
A tale of other kitties
Stanley wandered too far
A tragedy of traffic
Babad not as far…
Both waited for us
No one wants to die alone
But still, we’ve been blessed
Goldie, I’m glad
You loved me
Little dog with
A heart too big
Thank you, Sue
For trusting us with Trudy
What a lucky man I am
To garner such love and trust
And of course, biggie guy,
He who once was named Hunter:
Gunther.
(Inset sadness here)
Chessy taught responsibility
With insulin shots at 6 & 6
Tristan y Isolde
(Stanley and Zolda)
Operatic lives lived
As comedy/tragedy
And, et-hem; yes
Even you, Ms. Berry
Past denizens
Of Chateau Flobo
Let’s not not leave out
The current cohorts:
Free spirit, wild child
Lucky Ducky
Biggie boy found you
You adopted us
Ms. Black-in-the-box
Moved herself in
And Fred—well,
Fred is just being Fred
They all found us
Not the other way around
From a big family,
We’ve loved/love a big family
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 7:24 PM UTC
we're standing on the pavements taking pictures of our lives
pretending we are frozen every second passed in time
but what if we instead project the daily as it is
the broken up confusion and the sense we make of it
put everything in places they were always meant to be
and justify the cause for such decisions made by thee
let not the fear consuming all make way inside of you
rebuke it in the name of faith you carry tried and true
don't let the voice of others tell you what is right and wrong
you have a mind unshakable when rooted deep and strong
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 8:32 PM UTC
The red sun blazed like a fire ball though the gloaming just like she said it would ,
then danced like firelight in the branches as it was ,
It was from this you appeared .
Smoke .
,
smouldering embers choked by flame ,
untill it’s fumes take over ,
smothering.
My ,
Black lungs wheezing gasping for breath .
My body and clothes Linas perfume ,
to you’re beautiful aroma I cling .
My hand reaches near so to be warmed by you’re flame ,
and Linas hand reaches out from the gloaming to touch mine ,
warmly
Inches from the the fire .
From Lilly pads she appeared ,
her white wet dress showing off her shapely body reflected against the flames .
How I had awaited this hour ,
consumed by her perfume,
my lungs burst. ,
Wheezing,
breathless ,
intoxicated by her perfume .
Reaching for each other’s hands ,
her eyes reflecting endless forms of beauty,
we fall to where
the Lilly pads lay ,
down to the waters deep
take us hand in hand we plunged deep into its waters .
The red sun suddenly lets its rays surrender to
it’s. night ,
onto crimson waters where the Lilly pads lay .
Blackbirds to many to count ,
rendered song ,
Opening blue skies ,
just for so long ,
we looked up one more time to see ,
that our souls lost in Lilly pads lay ,
would softly return to song .
(2019).
Trudy and Marv hand in hand lovers from a distant land ,
heard a blackbird sing ,
she looked down “ the roses are so beautiful here “
She said .
(
Jun 7, 2019
Jun 7, 2019 at 9:22 AM UTC
The day we got a discusting cat
You see when my grandmother lost her two cats
Named mitsy and Trudy, she was so devastated as can be
So my cousins Mark and David found a cat on the side of the road
And decided to give it to my grandmother
And mind you, it seemed a good idea
Yeah at first the cat looked very cute
But after a while it was horrible little thing
You see my brother picked it up
And it **** all over him and I was thinking serves you right for picking him up, mate
And then my brother put it down and went to the bathroom
And washed the smell out of his hands
And the cat tried to jump on me, but I said to the cat **** off
You are a timid little beast, you deserve to be taken to the bush
And sent to greener pastures,
And yes, we'll sing born free to him
Or ding **** the cat is dead, you see
I **** on people and he scratched and bite
Yeah he was a horrible nasty, very discusting cat
And the moment we got rid of the cat, the family were saved
Thanks for small mercy's
Sent from my iPhone
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
If u believe
Youll see me
Knocking...
On your heart
With poetry's kiss
Just whispering
"Merry Xmas"
Dec 25, 2019
Dec 25, 2019 at 4:51 PM UTC
Trudy sits sipping cocktails
Watching the passers by.
The girl with the Botox, false eyebrows to match,
The ****** old codger, with his hand on her ******
They swan right on past
Ignoring the view.
No-one knows why
She's invisible to you.
But she doesn't care, she points one finger in the air,
She'd rather look at the sky.
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC