log poetry...prose commentary


Tuesday, September 27, 2005

A Spectator of Life and Freedom

Only three feet something
Stamps his feet
Sumo style

The girls
Hold hands and
Skip their best skips
Round and
Round and

At his leisure
Sans inhibition
And without preference
He chooses one
Taking her by the hand
They dance
Full of joy

Joy so pure
The mountain air
Colorado fall

For all their coolness
And color
They cannot extract the
Same smiles
From us—the circle of adults
Standing in still participation
In the celebration
Like statues when viewed
Next to

We see the girls
That they
Are mesmerized
By centrifugal force
Pulling pastel dresses
To the extreme

The boy—
Breaks voluntarily
Pulling a treat
From his left pocket
Though his M&M may fall
He will still eat

Social conventions
Convict him not
Control not
His eating
Nor his dancing

They don’t mind Miles Davis
But they
Hope the next one is fast...

As they frolic with uncontrolled laughter...

We chuckle

We laugh courteously
At life in motion

As if it were a one-liner
And not the panacea
We all long for

Some of us laugh as the senile do
We know something is cute
We know something is perfect
In these
Small footed moves
But memory fails
And we complicate the recollection
Of a time
When we
Danced carelessly
Amid pointing grown-ups

Deep inside
Some of our chests heave
With sobs instead of chuckles
Lamenting lost opportunities
To dance

They did not know it was their last dance
When he pulled her close
Kissing her nose
Or was it her lips?

I don't know
I stood behind her
A spectator

Of life and freedom

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Sunday, September 18, 2005

"My Poems" (An Autobiographical List of Works) by: Anonymous Jones

My first words were
Red roses
And violets?
Well, They’re violet
But I was just a babe
And, thus...
Thought them blue

I went to church
And entered into
My beach motif
I wrote one called
And another about starfish
Thrown to the sea
By a boy
Like me

If you’ve ever
an F-W-D
cheesy e-mail
That rhymed…

that was me
(Still honing my craft
In my early teens)

You may have seen
On teachers’ walls
Or on ceilings of spots
Where you had your teeth cleaned

In high school
Teachers read
My name
At the top of pages
Penned by poet’s
Made famous
Years before my time

I tried to explain that
I don't find it a
When I

On behalf of
The uneducated
Or those too
Lazy to ask the question

I’ve been too
Shy to claim

One set of works until now…

Those God quote billboards
Should really take
My name
In vain

Why Didn’t I
My poems?

I’ve been writing

For years and not seen
A single royalty check

Who’s missing out
While whoever else
Makes millions
Without fretting


(art by kerns)

this is an audio post - click to play

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

The Do Brothers (A Limerick)

Can Do

Should Do
And Does Do
The Do brothers
Numbering three

All live in a town
That is full of dry ground
Near a city
That sunk
In the sea

Is a middle class man
Who lives
In a house
With six rooms

He lives with his wife
And two dogs

But no child
And Can always
Has extra

To eat

Should also could
And he knows
It is good
To offer himself

Though he’s full of desire
Helps price is much higher
Than what Should Do
Is willing
To spend

Does Do
Has means
To help those with needs
In the city
That sunk
In the sea

Does Do
Does do
While Can Do is too
To share
What he has

And while Should Do just waited
And felt obligated
Does Do
Got up
And did

While they share the name Do
Only one of them does
And the others

Do nothing
But be

this is an audio post - click to play