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Showing posts with the label poetry

Little Black Dress

The curve of your back the twist of your hair that intent blue-eyed stare the little black dress and leather sandals your flat silhouette and my love handles I'm so obsessed with  your little black dress and the way it hugs your hips and the gloss you put on your lips then back in your bag beside a trendy fashion mag I'm so obsessed with your little black dress I can anticipate the sound when it shimmies from you and hits the ground. Blake Lively (Pinterest)

My Angel Dee

I miss you so much  I keep reaching for your hand to touch, Hundreds came to pour out their love and embrace who's left with their tightest hug, Harder and harder they squeeze  trying to hold on to dear Denise whose heart they say was the kindest and whose smile seemed to remind us how much we were loved and appreciated now she is gone and we're devastated, Her kindest heart was dealt the cruelest hand and for that I can't understand why as I cry and cry until the well runs dry and fills up again to pour down like rain on an empty street  where I feel left alone until I hear her laugh when I'm called back home. Denise Ann DeBobes (1970 - 2018).

For Jacqueline Marie

To wed my love, a chance at bliss whose odds are fixed in every kiss Life and love held hand in hand, sparkling in  each wedding band The shimmering Sound could not divide, Family and friends stand by our side Work proved an easy place to fall in love, Forever grateful to the Lord above Happy 10th Anniversary, my love! (Weird Long Beard Press)


When my life does expire my poems will roll on like a tire even though the words and thoughts aren't new the arrangements will give people  something to chew on and on as the threads become smooth the next generation will feel my groove  and light their own fire with ditties that inspire  as they roll on like a steel-belted tire. Tire by D.W. Dowling (Meredith M. 1998)

Thank You Lord

Thank you Lord for the ability to make a wrong a right and coffee and aspirin after a late night, Thank you Lord for another chance to run and laugh and for declining the penalty after an ill-advised gaffe, Thank you Lord for treating us all the same and for being impartial to our endless blame, And thank you Lord for listening to my prayer and letting me know you're always there. Ireland Baldwin drinks coffee (Pinterest).

Unre quit ed

Unre quit ed is a bitch A back to scratch that doesn’t itch A nose to pick that always bleeds  A potted garden full of weeds A towel to dry unwashed hands A container filled with rubber bands Unre quit ed is a bitch A gaping wound with no stitch A mirrored ball with no dance A matching top with no pants A drink in hand with no thirst A thinking man’s muttered curse Unre quit ed is a bitch A name I’d say but just can't snitch.

Working Man Blues

When that odd day comes and I'm finally out of debt I shall sit in a soft chair and light up a cigarette I will enjoy a good smoke then I'll let out a sigh as I think of all the days worked and the time gone by The bills will be paid my stomach well fed I'll watch some TV before I go to bed and dream of all the things I have and those I should get and in no time at all I'll be back in debt.

Mourn the Slain

Mourn the slain of every color and domain Oppose the violent and profane and wisdom of the criminally insane Violence begets violence, there ain't no gain Tyrannical politics fanning the flame No common decency to ease the pain Just surging hatred toward fellow man In the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave Nobody's right unless someone is wrong Each one of us deciding who does belong Not a different tribe or religion Blindness stands in way of our Founders' vision that we are endowed by our Creator Who sent forth a lover, not a hater Who stood only as tall as the smallest one and told us to love each and everyone But we keep trucking a different lane At speeds too fast to mourn the slain and foot too heavy to hit the break and a fury too blind to see our mistake.

Loss for Words

Loss for words Planting grass seed for birds Picking up doggie turds Outside in the sun Can not think Ground needs a drink Birds don't blink Kids shrieking with fun Pause to breathe ... Birds starting to leave Kids start to believe New green grass will come. Image courtesy of  Weird Long Beard Press.

February Comes and Goes

February comes and goes Where the days go noboby knows March comes in like a hungry lion  to eat President's Day leftovers nobody's buyin Beware the Ides says Great Caesar's ghost or was it a Hollywood Oscar host? Easter risin like a cat on a spring jumpin upon you like a sudden fling Pollinating flowers into new born buds Sittin on a cooler knockin back suds  The days grow longer with nothing to do The heat presses down on your frizzy hair-do The leaves change and the air grows brisk while Wall Street portfolios mitigate the risk The holidays swirl and smack you like a tornado New Year's Eve ball drops at midnight, wait though ... I haven't had time to change my clothes Another February comes and goes. Dog at Greenwich Point Park, Conn. | Photo: Bob Luckey

The Words

It used to be the words  dripped off my pen like honey, now it seems they're only  in it for the money, They come and go  as they please, proving to be no more  than a tease, At times they'll  disturb my sleep, coming on in torrents that  appear too deep, Moved by the fear that  I may drown, I reach for a pen to  write them down, Then I get the feeling that  they're only using me, waking me from my sleep  to set them free.


What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore - And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over - like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?  - Langston Hughes, 1951 Langston Hughes in Harlem, June, 1958.


I'm worried this won't come out right. I worry that I eat too much and drink too much. I worry that I'm not getting my money's worth. I lie awake at night worrying about not getting enough sleep. I worry that I'll say the wrong things or that I won't say anything at all. I'm worried that people will see the real me and not like him. I'm worried that I'm not as good as I think I am. I'm worried about not enough time and not enough money. I worry that I've made the wrong decision every time I get dressed. I worry that my sons are going to turn out like me. I worry that they will learn as I did, the hard way. I worry that I haven't learned enough. I worry about who may read this and who may not. I worry that the joke is on me. I worry about the outcome of football games even when I don't bet. I worry that I've made the wrong decision at the checkout line. I worry about home invasion and infestation. I worry that I

Pencil Skirts

Bryant Park autumn breeze quaff a half-dozen Long Island iced teas among a swarm of honey bees circling burgers smothered in cheese and girls in pencil skirts above their knees whose allergies to cats make them sneeze while handling lobbyists with grace and ease until happy hour's over and she flees. Jennifer Aniston


Confidence is in short supply even in the wink from a sure ally Whether pulling a rabbit from a hole in hat or pulling a tight sweater over a roll of fat If you got it, you don't have to pretend The outcome is certain, press play, hit send Confidence is the antidote for anxiety as often purchased throughout society It is the bare leg of Angelina Jolie and triple sevens, holy moly! It is the steely gaze of a man who can't be beat and the polished wingtips that adorn his feet Confidence is a soaring note in an emotional song and no need to apologize after it all went wrong It is a trait we seldom possess fragile as a liar under duress It's something we all want to follow to keep safe from regret that may find us tomorrow To know the outcome before the event To be sure of oneself, that's confident. Angelina Jolie, Oscars 2012.

Hawaiian Surf Princess

Kauai, January 2008. Northbound Highway 56. Surf report on the radio. Hawaiian Surf Princess Malia Manuel Point your board toward the next run Waves rolling on Kaelia Beach  where one long day runs free Sea sun glisten off taught brown body and  navy wet-suit top and bright blue bikini bottom Lakey Peterson Shot like a bullet through a barrel Rip the surf and fall like an angel  To rise and ride again  and then return to shore  where I am paralyzed by your beauty Throw your board atop a friend's car  Pop the trunk and rinse your mocha hair Its length, the only excess on your sleek frame Malia Manuel Breeze blows your ethereal mist in my face as you peel your top off your taught back Aloof calendar pose,  "Was doing terrible before you showed up" Board a bumblebee and scatter off   Sunlight kisses your lips and strokes your hair Heavenly statue in the parking lot of Kaelia Beach  Lakey Peterson

One Take

Leap year into forgotten wonder bra commercial  where a young lass’s hair ain’t all that bounces  like a quarter  off a sticky bar or the driving rain off the hood of a car port  in a quaint New England town overlooking Long Island Sound  and the spawn of a million oysters to end up as empty shells on tables amid fables  of barroom romances from a century ago and actors like Grant and Gable  who were able to say more with a wink than a good long Plato think  on the underprivileged and lack of clean drinking water  or vapor in the form of Vader and the force that pulls us all in some precarious direction  or perhaps to the top of the masthead in a magazine  or a vessel of blood drop oozing from the corner of a wolf’s mouth  somewhere in the deep south of Jack London’s mind  behind the steaming carcass of progress and inevitable debt and dirty diapers  that the earth brings to the unsuspecting moms who accept the challenge  in return for fading beauty and eternal memory of all to be

Work's an Easy Place to Fall in Love

I sure as hell ain't no Justin Bieber, but I am fascinated that this "music video" was shot on an iPhone and published to YouTube in the time it takes to fry an egg, although my eggs tend to be more palatable. The days of recording on a four-track and then mixing tapes to play in the car or wherever else you had a "captive" audience are shrinking in the rearview mirror. Thanks to my son, Shane, for contributing his background vocals on this track. PS - Happy Birthday, Mom!

Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001

My lungs burn with the ashes of the desperate, The last gasp stretches across the river and into Brooklyn, From the roof, the triumphant towers' boastful predecessor, Green on St. Patrick's Day, purple for Gay Pride, Red, white and blue on the Fourth of July ... Now black, The Empire State in mourning, The wondrous skyline, majestic, awe inspiring, Raped while I watched helplessly, Now thousands of people all looking to help Thousands of people who can no longer be helped, New York, New York, the city so nice They built the tallest building twice, A master plan destroyed by a mastermind, Newly fueled jets, United, American, Strike the heart of money and American defense, Allies of Israel, enemies of bin Laden and the Islamic zealot, Thousands of refugees on the Manhattan Bridge, I stopped and stared, the Mona Lisa lost her nose, The masterpiece wrecked, the smoldering tragedy, unequivocal, A ferocious bite taken from the Big Apple, The restoration and mour

The Face That Launched a Thousand Ships

The face that launched a thousand ships, I wonder if she had your lips, I wonder if her kiss was gold and who listened to her stories told, I wonder whom she deeply loved and whose tired shoulders she may have rubbed, I wonder who watched her comb her hair and whether or not she minded their stare, I wonder how beautiful she looked in her clothes and how many if anybody truly knows, I wonder what secrets she kept in her heart that set her so many miles apart, I wonder if it was possible to possess such a thing or how it might sound when heaven's angels sing. Michelle Borth