I Hate The Wait (Weight)
I get up in the morning
And want to stay in bed
Oh, so nice and warm
Like fresh from the oven bread.
My day is oh so busy
I wish that I could stay
In the quiet of my house
If only I could play.
Relax and play like Children do
No matter where they are
Never worried about being late
Or looking ahead too far
My body won't sit quietly
I need to get there now
No time to chat, I now must go
All I can say is Chow
I hate to wait
For time to pass
Time to eat
To get some gas
Tick Tock of the clock
I look into the sky
The numbers move so slowly
I wish that they would fly
The weight won't move at all today
And the wait is way too long
I am doing the best I can
To help move time along.
I can not control the numbers
On the clock or on the scale
I need to remember that they are things
And that I will never fail.
Time will pass without my help,
The scale gets thrown away
I will learn to breathe these words,
I will to learn to say to say:
Say the words that matter
In soul, In Heart and Voice
I have enough, I do enough, I am enough
For each day is a choice.
Caught in the Arms of ED
YOU MIGHT THINK I AM STRONG
The Gaul of La Laguna de Paca
Out of the eight poems provided here [all previously unpublished], four are Poetic Prose, a few Visionary [what I call Vsionary anyhow], a few Free Verse, and a few with more form and structure, more closely to the Auden style of: stanza, metrical rhythm, and rhyme. In saying that, I do believe all the poems are conveying a rich network of meaning, some of them painfully close bond between pleasure and destruction. They should appeal to the senses and create images in our minds, for poetry is just that kind of language that most complexly and effectively qualifies.
Three Poems: The Monkey Man of Lima, Plus Two More
What Hides behind the Minute?
Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists that we examine the deceptive clarity of our actions and the goals that motivate us. How does one actually get from "A" to "B"-and is there ever really a "B"? What color is the white space between "A" and "B"? Upon closer inspection, surface realities reveal themselves to be porous and fragile, layered with textures and grains that lead the eye on varying pathways. So what are we to do in a world of newspaper narratives that instruct us toward tidy endings, murmuring that such endings are possible and even inevitable?
Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems]
Grandpa's House [The ole Real House]
San Francisco [Almost a Sonnet]
(The city by the bay of Northern California, near which the Pacific Ocean resides; the year is 1967)
Have you ever experienced infatuation with someone you know is not a good match for you? Or how about an interesting relationship that roots itself deep in your memory... Here's my double take on someone who caught my eye years ago and invited me to play footsies in a work cafeteria. Although nothing ever involved from this infatuation, he has never left my thoughts.
Learn About Love From Poet Rumi
Learn about love by reading poetry by a long dead poet named Rumi. No need to look for ancient texts hidden in caves...Search the Net.
Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain
I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one deeply loved. We come to accept the death and adjust our lives - rather begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive. Somewhere in the grief process, we make the decision to survive and then we are emotionally enabled to build a different kind of relationship with our deceased loved one.
I WANTED TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF FLOWERS A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.
The King and Delka & Moiromma: the Cold Planet [Parts 25 and 26]
Stone Beds [A Poem and an Advance]
Stone Beds [Pompeii's surge]
Infected Ideologies [a Poetic Portrait]
the disease of extremism is infectious-; whoever cannot think of their child growing up without it is part of the phenomenon! (the choice of the day). fanaticism,-- with a powerful ideology are seeds for suicide! murder: giving reasons to rage!... ask: leninist che hitler bin laden they will show you to a noble act of death!... (that is what they say). throw out: poverty, the disadvantaged- save the ideology, that is the infected, the choice!?
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a hearth afire.
Mechanical Poetry; Part Two
What do you do when you want to write poetry? I hope your answer is "I start writing." Even writing a bad poem is better than waiting for the "right words." You can always throw it away, and the process has begun. You'll start to find the words sooner than if you had just waited. Here are some more ways to get started.
A Ship to Remember
Hammers. Timbers. Iron. Steel.
Welcome to the Town of Feeling
Happy, Sad, Mad and Glad, Moved in down the street
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca [four poems: see in Spanish and English NOW!]
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
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