Spontaneous Poems

Ode to my cigarette
as i crush it out
as told to my figurement
it's load is 2.8

Oh, cigarette, I pout,
I'll throw you down and stomp you out;
But first, little fag,
I think I better have one last drag:
(su-u-u-ck)
Ahh - Never mind!

He told stories set to music
Work songs
Love songs
Money songs
Drink songs
Born in Clarksdale, state of Mississippi
1917 saw his first breath
Sung a lotta spirituals
Two blind blues men
Led him to his musical path
Took himself to Memphis
The bars & clubs
Guitar pumpin to his voice
Moved up north
Detroit way
1948 & Sally Mae took his hand
His music flowed
His following grew
This man had genius in his blood
Sittin on his stool, rappin his songs
In his homburg hat & sharp cut suit
Some English bands picked him up
His blues were hot
And he was cool
Like a Crawling King Snake
Stalking you

R.I.P. >>> J.L.H.

The cunning bear paw
always seeks out the salmon
through feast or famine

The sun was shining brightly
And I could hardly wait
To raise my bedroom window
And gaze at God's estate.

A breeze was blowing gently
As it brushed the clouds away
All nature was enchanting
On this lovely day.

My eyes fell on a little bird
With a dainty yellow bill
Who sat gaily chirping
On my windowsill.

I smiled at him benignly
Held forth a crust of bread
Then quickly slammed the window
And smashed his little head.

--Unknown

Chasing trains of peace:
How along the night may fall.
Give in to promise of dawn,
Or heed the fading call?
Fast trains won't wait
For even heads of state.
As one hesitates: It's gone!

fears drift up
through balconies
of unquenchable
insaitable
lusts
forming within
building, bubbling
to a crescendo
till I moan
four scoop banana split with double hot fudge please


Doug .... or should I say DOUG


Morning Let .... you gonna eat that cinnamon roll?

You cannot have my cinnamon, Doug
Nor can you have the roll bit.
But here's a pen my hungry friend,
Will you please autograph it?

I'm really enjoying all the poetry here.
Oak man's was so touching, especially the last lines.What a tribute to Mr. Hooker.
Edgar's is always refreshing,
Cavier's cameo about the bear created a picture of the wilds.
Equus,

His lust overcomes,
his guilt.
He wants me back
to make up for the time
when he chose
religion
over sex

(and no, I am not telling who he is - just read an email from him and composed this poem)

...and so, you are coming together?

Actually Letty, upon rereading, I see there is a double meaning in my last post about always following your heart/instinct/goals in any situation, good or bad. And on that note...

Haiku!
Bless you...

RAIN, THOUGHTS & DRIVIN'

She was walkin
He was drivin
It was rainin
She got in
Thank you Joe
No problem Mae
Evening spring, seven o'clock
Getting dark now
Switch the lights on
Heavy shadows under street lights
cut the windshield & the wipers
Slapping, sweepin off the rain
Mirrored faces,
Quite relaxed
Silent voices,
Gentle eyes
Joe & Mae
Known each other 2 score years
Two good friends
But never lovers
Both had pleasure
Both had pain
in the arms of various lovers
After forty weary years
both had silenced lovers hopes
Turn the corner
Nearly home
End in sight
But wait
Could they make a happy couple ?
Is it time to move the goal posts ?
Open up a brand new book ?
Questions both could think about
Joe pulled over
Parked the car
Thank you Joe
No problem mae
She disapeared inside her building
He drove away into the night
Bravery don't come easy
When old wounds have yet to heal
When nerves of steel have turned to tissue

I think I can say what 'deep' is John.

At least to My satisfaction:

When I say your poetry has such DEPTH, what I mean is, I have to think through layers and layers of

politically correct replies,
diplomacy,
frivilous and casual thoughts,
socially graceful answers,
all these pretensions- and others,

then, you strike a chord right on the nerve of reality.

So, then- perhaps those who look for a 'package' done up in socially correct sentences, may not grasp the soul of your writing.

(I said all that to say this-)

WHAT A SOUL FUL POEM, JOHN!

I face a night of deepening time
Where souls will learn , at last to rest
For when there comes the final climb
I clutch my DETERMINATION to my brest

No word of kind or tender sent
No chance to speak and share in voice
There's only bent in painful chores
Till God shall know, I repented my choice.

And in the Flight to Glory, sweet
I see the children-- gathered home
New trails to find, new sunny street
So- hear me. I cannot succumb.

Jackie, your comments on that last poem I posted are most interesting enlightening in fact.

I can write something such as that quite quickly. No great planning, it just comes out of me. Read thru it once or twice and make a few changes, end of story. Humanity/reality in a nutshell & if I hit the right nerve, that's great. The sting in the tail, the rude awakening perhaps. As you noted, not socialy correct, but then I'm not always exactly socialy correct. Write it as I see it, so for the reader it's a case of WYSIWYG



Reading the poem you've posted Jackie, it has a very haunting feel to it. Rising out of fear , lonliness but with a strong will to better and happier times. It's a very strong piece of writing
,

Cav, I do think you have something very special. I enjoy brevity when it's powerful, and yes, almost haiku.

And Gautam's poem is the same way. I guess this means the Gautam and I won't do lunch.

er, I meant THAT...see? all shook up

Well, it was technically haiku

Jackie's new avatar is cool....love that pen and ink feel.

"Why Thank you , you cavalier caviar 'fancier'!"
It is an avatar I may keep. It gives me a feeling of mystery.

:wink:

Oldandknew, I sincerely hope you know that I am aware that you are a distinguished gentleman of gracious manner and perfect social correctness. A man of charm, wit, intelligence and handsome bearing.

It is when you write... you do not plot it or varnish it, it is just deeply understood by those who have 'been there, done that'.
Even I understand WYSIWYG.
Perhaps I see more than some.
Thank you for reading and feeling my intense efforts.

Other poets in the earlier pages of this topic have written some great lines, I have had fun reading them.

What you see is what you get.Yes, I suppose so.