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Ode Angst Poems | Ode Poems About Angst

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Details | Ode | |

Ode to a Woodpecker

The ladder backed pecker,
like a prison uniform.
Caught-up in exposing
the truth beneath the bark,

of the poet's apple tree.
We prefer ourself in spring;
with tiny little flowers,
and the fruit of possibility.

Yet, if not for the woodpecker,
tapping holes into poems,
we might not ever see
the flesh and blood of raw meat.

I will climb that ladder back,
escape pre-decreed standards.
Tap into that syrupy mixture
and suck-out truth from hard wood.

Yes, lessons from a jail bird.
A pest in the Avian Kingdom.
Wisdom from the little rebel,
beat-out of a tree.


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 5 Final)

This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you 
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead 
lover’s silken skin…
I know now  you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred 
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow 
me into our karmic destiny…

On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree, 
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of 
me…
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally 
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were 
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…

I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…


Details | Ode | |

Welcome To My Life

I'm dying in this slow decay of the senses.
Senseless agony consumes my mind.
Eating my soul until I'm gray.
Gray like the leaves at your funeral.
The day the color faded and beauty went away.
The sky is falling, 
But, only on me.
As the Heavens are calling,
They tell me to leave.
But don't put your faith, your faith in me.
Don't trust fate,
For nothing is meant to be.
The slow silent squeezing of my petrified soul.
I left my heart with the sugar,
In the bottom of the bowl.
The wounds of the mind,
Based solely on the knife.
Look for my flaws and you'll always find....
Welcome to my life.


Details | Ode | |

Letting Go

Two precious little memories
Two sweet little angels
Watching over me from heaven
Who were not for this earth
Never had the chance to grow
No first step, no first word
Never to know life’s ups and downs
No future to behold
Judgment impaired, mistakes made
No turning back time
Will ever change the course
It has to fallow thru
Rest in peace my babies
God will take care of you
You were to tender 
For this rough world
We never had the chance
 To know each other
You are in my thoughts
I will see you in heaven


Details | Ode | |

Mysterious Crush

Mystery person, you haunt my mind
Which is torture at times,
Mystery person, you're hard to find
But that’s fine, your voice is beautiful like golden chimes.
You can pretend I'm just a creep.
Your beauty is beyond compare
Those lovely eyes say a thousand words
Truth is I think of you before I sleep.
Your beautiful locks of brown hair
They're so beautiful it's absurd


Details | Ode | |

Musings of Mother

"I shall be telling this with a sigh" Robert Frost My thoughts they roil like waters dark in the abyss of blackest night with memories of mother’s book marks of Longfellow read by lamp light. She called in the room around me the patter of other small feet, her gentle voice fetched angels Oh, rhymes how they astounded me like lullabies soft and so sweet. All fearsome shadows, she’d dispel Maxine, my queen read Tennyson and the Charge of the Light Brigade a little girl dreamt of caissons roll and thunderous cannonades. To be so brave the small child mused mother’s small, precious, heroine what would it take to stand so strong without father, and not confused What words where the linchpin to right mother’s tell tale wrong. Such sad inspiration*.. mother but a champion you were born. You’re adored before all others yet, tears bring memories forlorn. So, dreams stream on of Mother Goose three kittens and their mittens. My visions of your fleeting smile return almost every night, and your spirit comforts, lightens sights, if only for a little while.


Details | Ode | |

Childeren of Heaven


Wait for hope, another sunshine,
Screams un opened, ache suppress,
Tears hold in eyes, cry less whine,
Penniless life eked out with depress,
 
Roving on the way with shoeless feet,
Spent dreadful life in great poverty,
Staring at shop for seeking of Sweet,
Sleep tight in roofless sovereignty,
 
Playing in downy mud, and quag,
Whether it's a winter or summer scorch,
These innocent child utter no nag,
Pass rest of their journey with single torch,
 
Being empty pockets and hands,
No mean to them for which they can,
Buy things of choice and colorful bands,
Scenario, the same for all poor clan,
 
Their life is full of burdensomeness,
Where no calm or rests exist,
Dawn to dusk with onerousness,
Embrace the hurdles, thorns and curvy twist.

Shahid Hussain Chouhdry


Details | Ode | |

Military Veteran Lamentations -Our Boys, V-Day 11-11-11


America…
wet behind the ears
our boys
soldiers screwed beyond their years

healthy “Kens”
displaced from their “Barbies and Babies”
KILL ‘EM ALL!
programmed to forget 
about what ifs 
ands
or maybes

SEEK AND DESTROY!
when deployed, "Boy go!"

Erase your youth 
Ken
now you’re real damn men!
geddem’ G.I. JOE!

the present is your rifle
so don’t blink about the past
enemies are better dead
so spray them AK’s fast

ATTENTION! 
now Private
grab the phone and tell your Mom
you’re comin’ home insane (or in a box)
like our boys in Vietnam!


Details | Ode | |

Humanity Calamity Insanity

Institutional reformation inside of this nation 
Prisons have risen to the ranks of solicitation

Politicians in formation line up for their vacations
Due to a prisoners isolation

The ideology behind this hypocrisy
Is some kind of demented democracy
And a continuing demagoguery

Oh the humanity
A convicts calamity
Thanks to political insanity



Details | Ode | |

Ode to A Healthy Prisoner

Just breathe in the clarity
Clarity of the whole
Whole or negativity
Negativity eating your soul

Head for tomorrow
Tomorrow always waits
Waits for enlightenment
Enlightenment heals mistakes

You are where you’ve put yourself
Your “SELF” now reminds you of shame
Shame brought on by acting out thoughts
Thoughts a conscious shouldn't retain

Give yourself an apology
An Apology you deserve to have
Have some faith in your timing
Timing bleeds wisdom in man 

Bless your self and live righteous
Righteous spirits rise above 
Above all if you are kind
Kind souls conquer hate with love

Poetry brings torment to a halt
Halt all your never-ending thoughts
Thoughts are forbidden evil hiding
Hiding light inside divine spots

So please write down your own deep thoughts
Thoughts penned will conquer your inside trap
Trap your life up in your cell  all alone
Alone you shall stay smelling your crap~



please don't be offended by the last line~ 
I felt it was necessary to get my point across~


Details | Ode | |

Mandela's grave

Remember ninety-five
When we felt free
We felt alive
We hugged and kissed
Rejoiced in freedom
Rejoiced and sung
Songs of freedom

Mandela walked 
As skeptics talked
But he walked on high
And touched the sky

He loved and he gave
The spirit of the brave
He forgave and reconciled
A sad and battered child

He gave us hope
He gave us life
He freed us from our thoughts of strife

He crossed the divide
Of crossword puzzle blocks
And gave us the clues
-	We threw down our rocks

But here we are now
Tectonic plates crash on our brow
Where is the hope gone?
Where is the future that we had won? 
As we slipped from meritocracy
To simple mediocrity
We look around
And all we found
Was our hopes dashed
Dashed to the ground

Our children suffer, forlorned 
Whilst louts with shovels shovel the gold
Of our future that was pawned 
For the few our future was sold

And as the fat asses
Roam around in masses
Eating the hay that was made when the sun still shone
Eating the food that the cattle had won

But brayingly they still prance around
Relishing in their new wealth found
As the baby dies hungry and cold
And the baby is buried in hallowed ground

Remember back in ninety-five
When we all felt thrilled –
Alive!
Remember the victory songs
Of how we would right the wrongs
But now we wrong the right
As for gold and wealth we fuss and fight

And in his cold and lonely grave
Mandela turns
And weeps
As his long road 
Stops
At his grave


Details | Ode | |

COMFORT ZONE


Change has a way of changing things
Why all this swirl
Of crazy flings
To cause mad twirl.


Strange winds can change the pulse that strings
Why must change break
Moments that cling
Status quo stakes.


Range can describe the stormy flings
Why break good stuff
That stir and sing
Nice fluff that puffs.



Leon Enriquez
04 August 2014
Singapore


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 4)

You regret your foolish disclosure, as you confessed to be a cold hearted lover for she was 
lost of hope n’ sacrificed herself from this crest for her love for you consumed her totally, 
though her broken heart, in the care of the angels choir, now sings reforged in the fires of  
immortality…
You lived your life in the garments of a scar around your heart, covered in bark, thrombosed 
to the love of another, it now cries in virtue n’ chastity from the sentient tree that consumed 
your ashes n’ dust in the grave at the top of the crest by the sea…

I give to you Poet my blessing, so you can relinquish your guilt n’ pain of love’s abandoning 
from the bed of blame you made of your grave, for your quill is at peace till your 
homecoming into this world, my sweet poet come back to me…
For time was your crest from this day you have leapt, you are forgiven my love so rise, let 
go your purgatory n’ perhaps one day we will meet once again as your soul escapes the 
gravity of captivity, now owlish n’ wise let it fly to our destiny…

Though not a word is spoken in these moments of conjuration from a lover long gone in an 
age of castles n’ quests by the sea, it stormed all night n’ I remained by your grave side till 
sunrise n’ the flame in your eyes became the Immortal’s fire to reforge a tarnished heart, 
for your tortured soul now understands n’ through the flames your mind will follow…
Now I see the picture you have painted in the illusion of the rainbow n’ I sense the birth of 
humility n’ grace as the sun breaks through the storm clouds, for your poem of remorse 
finally rests n’ you my love are reborn with angel wings to ride mother earth’s breath…


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 1)

On a windswept hill crest by the sea there is a lonely ancient sentient tree that seems so 
figuratively familiar to me, I wonder why this can be n’ who my heart longs for when
I’m here n’ why love gives no guarantee…
Though I visit here frequently, today I was summoned, beckoned by the branches of this 
solitary tree swaying in the breeze, to this charming yet purgatorial space...

I knelt down upon this strange magical place n' was carried away as my fingers traced an 
owl’s feather to my face n’ wondered why I loved n’ despised this fateful place…
My body shivered, internally tingling n’ with grace, some kind of enlightened knowing I could 
not erase n' like the sentient tree that cradles you within, I sensed your ethereal embrace…

Silence ends where you begin, I heard the likes of Aeolian sing “Oh my Immortal”  n’ your 
poetic voice disturbed the chaos in the winds of my mind n’ there within returned the 
memory of your handsome androgynous face…
I said… “Come let my hands play upon your skin” n with my thoughts gathering to replay a 
scene across time of broken hearts n’ love’s abandoning reflected in the fire of your eyes n’ 
a touch of a feather upon my face…

I’ll never know your name or how many tears were cried in the oceanic depths of your 
pleasure n’ pain, though the salt I can taste in the tempest of this darkening day as the wind 
heralds your scent n’ presence unto me…
I’ll never know all who walked hand in hand here before me or where each discarded shell 
has been as the seasons flew away, yet I now know why a thousand Halloweens were  your 
destiny n’ you summoned me to transcend my mortality n’ the meaning of silent words at 
play this day…

Our ancient bodies lay together here beyond mortal touch, though in my present existence I 
no longer recall our names, they are lost in my many lifetimes yet kept in the Goddess’s 
providence…
Though no longer you feel my touch or pleasure n’ pain I'll plant a flower as a blessing on 
top of our grave, above the waves, where your soul is a slave to this sentient tree cradling 
your ashes n’ bones returned to dust…


Details | Ode | |

Ache

I ache for your face so close.
I can still smell you.
Taste your breath.
Feel your fate
Entwined with mine.
This time to come our hardest part
Yet we will bear, abide, adhere
For all our sakes.
Guilt aside i shall value
The moment we had
And close my eyes and relive
Our reflection.
Over and over.
Until our future says no.


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part3)

Yet my soul senses the passion n’ desire of your heart was composed in the language of love 
unto lust that I could never poetically impart, still I know the flame burns with pleasure n’ 
pain for all who find it outside their immortal heart…
I sense the reflected fire of your eyes n’ I wish not to recall the unspoken secrets of your 
poetry n’ the names lingering here, romancing the waves caressing rocks n’ the chant of 
consumable miseries of mortal hearts to rupture into suicide …

I know how your fingertips awakened her virginity when she was your lover in leisure to the 
music of your acclivitous words hypnotising her virtuous seventh heaven of sexual overtures 
n’ into the depths of clitorious pleasure…
She was one of many who summoned the angels of ecstasy by the priestess of your tongue 
that preferred all inamoratas to be kept at distance for their purpose of use was to be your 
poetic muse but she was (heavy sigh) your destiny…

When you dared to indite your desires of others with an empty quill upon her naked flesh 
remembering still their scent n’ taste, she flared with jealous rage n’ you were vainglorious 
for your lovemaking was illustrious as you celebrated far n’ wide…
In her aroused escapade you wished you had braced yourself for her pain as she summoned 
the green demons with covetous wings within her mind, for she would have laid down her life 
for you, though you did not understand this treasure was a love that was true…

For she longed to be your only lover though your fingers of rhyme teased a tongue to 
rhythmically confess your request to crucify her heart in unrequited love n’ her thighs in a 
symphony of continuous casual pleasure…
You declined true love for the endless line of carnal lust with debutantes, bridesmaids n’ 
dames for perfect in everyway to be with you she must, like your poetry symmetrical n’ 
consummate, a figure of flawless beauty n’ face..

To compose in repose your words in kisses upon a page of thy lover’s lips, the idealised 
immaculate perfect place, her face was scared by a trace yet her beauty of heart within was 
a gift given by the goddess’s grace…
She had a long thin line down the side of her face though I know this flaw to be upon your 
soul, it never left your body n’ mind as they turned to dust, where perfection once prevailed 
yet overbalanced without grace for your heart was forged of carnal lust


Details | Ode | |

If only she could see

She's constantly a dreamer,
Fantasy is where she lives,
Reality is non existant to her,
If only she could see.
She only cares about superficial things,
Popularity is her sport,
Boyfriends are the cheerleaders,
If only she could see.
Her mind is put to waste,
A head as empty as a flower pot,
Education is lost on her,
If only she could see.
She makes fun of the "weirdos",
She cannot stand the "geeks",
But those "geeks" are worth knowing,
If only she could see.
The world is 3-D,
It has depth underneath,
There is beauty under the surface,
If only she could see.
Beauty is not just skin deep, 
It runss all the way through,
It's not just looks that matter,
It's how you think and see.


Details | Ode | |

Beloved Companions -part 1-

**This is a special set of poetry written with my friend Justin Connor--we each wrote separate accounts of special companions. The ending verse we wrote together. These poems are meant to be one piece of work. **

Scarcely a year old, I remember with sad, sinking heart 
But then I smile, because I remember all the good times 
It was the night of Pentecost, our little kitten was found 
My mother, happy to bring in the oddest of pets, 
Curled her fingers around a small kitten, beaming
And there was sunlight in all eyes all the night
He had been crying in the bushes for a place to stay
And he had found one…it might have been destiny
There was something in his green eyes that dazzled me 
Weakening and strengthening my heart all in one I held him in my arms,
A special cat on a special day
Pentecost is his name, and it is here he will remain 
I remember everyone loved him because of his grace
That dreamy eye and soft-hearted face
I remember the first night and many more nights to come
I turned my music box, opened it up and sang him a song
He listened intently and soon was fast asleep
His small colorful multi-marked body breathing deeply
His tiny, white boot legs tucked under his chest
“You’re the best, Pentecost,” I whispered. “You’re the best…” 
Even my father, who was never fond of cats,
Was won over by his embraceable charms
Pentecost would spawn an effort to make him smile 
Stretching out on the floor making sure everyone was watching
Listening lovingly to my dad’s favorite classical repertoire.. 
He would ring around our ankles with his paws playfully 
Causing us to scream in shock and skip away 
He would jump back from the shriek making us laugh up a storm
And look up at all the noise curiously
Pentecost also liked small boxes to squeeze into
I would lift up a cardboard flap to see a whiskered jewel
And he would look up at us and wonder 
Can we make room for two?
He favored no one and was friendly with all
Long and muscular, this cat had boundless energy
One point he’d be at the window
And the next in the laundry, his tail whipping
What I will never forget was how happy he would lay in the grass
I would watch him and pet him, the sun hitting his fur
Gray black stripes and swirls of art lighting all at once
His soft, sensitive ears rubbing against my arm 
The affection was mutual as Destiny knew 


Details | Ode | |

The Unknown Poet n' the Lover with an Immortal Heart (Part 2)

Your hands n’ your caress traced intimately across a mortal’s flesh a thousand years ago, for 
she is a stranger in the dark of my distant karmic past,  though I know her serenading 
immortal heart sings in this body of mine now…
I refuse to hear your long lost name for I’m afraid to know all those who you loved with such 
lust in this place where you linger by your grave, I only wish to see the sweet beautiful 
memories of the love we made…

No!!! I refuse to hear my long lost name for I’m afraid to know all those who you loved with 
such lust in this place!!! where you transcend your grave, for there is a weaver n’ a loom of 
destiny n’ I’ll not repeat that chant ever again by the sea…
From the castle to the crest, to the sea, to the waves crashing on the rocks, a hundred times 
the journey from the womb to the grave I have made while you lay in your tomb n’ your 
soul yearns in suffering to make amends…

I sense you invite me to listen to your evocation in this prevailing wind, it seduces my skin n’ 
ascends from the depths of my soul from beginning to end, an eternal poetic essay of an 
immortal heart’s legend…
By this ocean of our dreams you tempt me to inhale the perfumed scent though I’ll never 
know whose breath it was that I now breathe in as the wind n’ the moon feathers the sea in 
eternal waves…

Along this coastline the breath of mother earth has nurtured many lovers, lifted angels on 
wings n’ called forth mermaids who play n’ sing on the rocks n’ dance in the shadows with 
the ghosts of shipwrecked sailors in their watery graves but it’s been a thousand years since 
my immortal heart heard a poet...
Today this storm blows across the lands of my ancestors, the siren of your poetic beckoning, 
an incantation travelling the sea n’ time heralds the galloping horses thundering, racing upon 
the shore with the chariot of your enchantment never faltering…

Their manes dancing towards the crest  n’ crash upon the rocks nearby where we made love 
a thousand years ago in the soft familiar sand, your poetic voice romancing the sunset n’ 
painting the waves in glorious tones of carnal lust ...
Within the evening storm clouds I can see the rain though I’ll never know the name of the 
lovers whose thirst it quenched with pleasure or who was cleansed of their pain as the blood 
washed from the rocks upon opening Pandora’s box in their mind n’ lost sight of hope as 
their fateful love turned to dust…


Details | Ode | |

Casket

I will cry a thousand years.
Trying to wash away the hurt I feel.
Wearing a mask to conceal.
While I walk amongst all of you
Doing what should be right.
For me there's no tunnel of light.
Just the black,
from my eyes shut tight.
A little is much to much.
Shivering from the touch
That I've longed for all my life.
There's very little you can do.
But, I ask it of you
Light a candle.
Say a prayer.
When you leave,
close the lid on my casket


Details | Ode | |

NIGHT TERRORS

THE BOOGEYMAN WILL GET YOU-LOOK OUT!!
They have said that to me ever since I was a wee boy
Lurking under the sheets,in the closet,behind one's back
Especially at night when we are susceptible to  the vivid
imaginations of our peers' taunting ravings of Unmentionable
crawlers of the dark and fright
I would not sleep with the closet door half open to fill these
frightened pupils of what may hide behind
It would scare me out of my adolescent mind,to know that something
SINISTER would come from the shadows and SCARE me to death from behind
Every little boy or girl would be so sensitive to the Boogeymen stories that their 
elders or friends would tell them,how green and deathly evil their eyes can be 
when they look back at you.Is it purely imagination or something of a twisted and 
macabre sense of humor that our brothers and sisters would like to throw back 
at us..for kicks and thrills,Halloween night terrors of unimaginable thrills
When I was younger,the Man with a Forever Grin,would like to ridicule and 
terrorize me with his Devil-may-bite smile and assistant ghosties who would play 
along for the HELL of it.
I may be a grown man now,my friend,but whenever I pop a HALLOWEEN dvd in 
my player,the mind cannot help but recollect the pictures of Night Terrors that 
forever go bump in the night where I live..
I hope the same can be said of those same Vile screamers that terrorize us in 
the first place..give them a taste of their own WICKED medicine


Details | Ode | |

Unbroken

Can you feel them itching 
Songs begging to get out 
Can see his fingers twitching 
Just moving all about 

there’s music in him 
for that, there is no doubt 
rhythm and words just bursting to escape 
laughter and the sadness 
all his love and eternal heartbreak 

so much to write about 
it’s way too big to contain 
emotions taking over 
like colors on display 

Can you feel them itching 
Songs begging to get out 
Can see his fingers twitching 
Just moving all about 

sending all his wheels a spinning 
manic energy takes control 
it's creating something magical 
as he lets his many talents flow 

all the pain and anguish 
they paint the pages with his tears 
with talk of love and betrayal 
of intensity in loss and fears 
his depth of hurt, it’ll gut you 
bleed you at your core 
it’s a wonder he’s still standing 
how is it he could take much more 

Can you feel them itching 
Songs begging to get out 
Can see his fingers twitching 
Just moving all about 

outside his art, you wouldn’t know it 
just how his internal scars cry out 
but take a look in those clear blue eyes 
you’ll find the wisdom and the wear 
of one whose lived a consuming life 
and known the meaning of despair 

been taken to the brink and more 
then left just hanging there 
had his heart ripped from his chest 
leaving his soul stripped bare 

Can you feel them itching 
Songs begging to get out 
Can see his fingers twitching 
Just moving all about 

but this boy, this guy, this man 
is made of more than all that 
that of which would do it’s best 
to destroy him from the inside out 
no this clever one, he won’t be taken down lightly 

no, not without a fight he… 
he’ll take all the turmoil and the woe 
he’ll make the very most of it 
use it for his craft, the sadness oh so sad 
he twist it into beauty, bends it to his will 
and when he’s done and last poems been sung 
the tears, your eyes are now filled 
for his pain has transformed to such of strength 
and beauty, that never can be killed


Details | Ode | |

GRIM REAPER

Death be not proud for some have called you might and dreadful but though art not so.
Many fear your icy grip but I do not you hold no power nor control over me.
I' am the master of my fate the captain of my desires. 

SO DEATH BE NOT PROUD

It is I who am in control not you. You hold no sway over me vengeful spirit 
My Soul is not yet yours to claim.


Details | Ode | |

The Terrible Cost



Into a place inside the mind
Rivers flowing cascades of time
Violent winds
Melting rhymes

See a colour before my eyes
A song playing softly
The multitudes cried
As a baby was born


My friend died
Because of Viet Nam
People cried
But nobody heard


We saw it creeping
Knowing in time
Death always wins out
Now it’s been decades Bobby’s been sleeping


Time takes the child
Raises him up
Army takes the boy
Makes him a man


Sometimes the boy
Is not ready to be a man
But along comes war
And forces his hand


How many young men
Both living and dead
Living in peace time
Different thoughts in their heads


How many doctors
How many cops
How many teachers
How many mechanics
How many priests
How many artists
How many politicians
How many disc jockeys
How many weathermen


How many fathers
Sending their boys off to war
Knowing when they if they return
Will be their boys no more


Haunted eyed soldier
Stands at parade rest
The names of his buddies
Tattooed on his chest

Till home he arrives
No welcoming band
Just a needle and a bottle cap
And a stone with the rest


Details | Ode | |

Apathetic

Passionless I see each new day arrive and depart.
I shall not falter upon any deed.
I betray not
Why is this feeling plaguing my mind and spirit?
I was never insensible to my deity.
Or ever will be.
Listless I lay upon the life before me and beyond.
Apathetically I continue with a plea.
I will awake. 


Details | Ode | |

Damned Yankees

I could smell the ballpark in my glove
Lose myself in the crooked sky above
Hear the roar of the crowd in my bat
Oblivious to your epitaph called stats
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

So you bought a curse named Ruth
Not to mention 26 Octobers to boot
Did you do it to spite this game
Integrity sold for the price of fame
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

You built a cathedral from which to boast
Helped the Babe exorcise Gehrig’s ghost
Buried Maris beneath a Mantle of shame
Sleeping with a bottle and two dames
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

Joltin Joe swinging that Marilyn clout
The mighty Casey you struck out
Too old for a springtime affair
Welcome Jeffrey Maier
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

Three times a charm in the Bronx zoo
Reggie’s knockin them out, Billy too
Who needs a bookie if you have a boss
You can bet you’re fired after a loss
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

Beware the seduction of pinstripe sin
Immortalized by Jeter’s cocky grin
Four more pennants in five years time
Selling out is winning’s soul crime
Dreaming a dream, called baseball
 
But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

So tell me George, when will it end
Is 200 million a salary cap or a trend
If it’s a general manager you seek
I hear the Devil comes real cheap
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I pray
Damned Yankees

I could smell the ballpark in my glove
Lose myself in the crooked sky above
Hear the roar of the crowd in my bat
Oblivious to your epitaph called stats
Dreaming a dream, called baseball


Details | Ode | |

Old Warrior

Old warrior, in the bar...
Sips on his small, warm beer...
It's still 1943 to him...
And inside he still holds fear...
The world hanging on the edge,
Of uncertainty....
What the future held,
No one could see....

Served his country,
Of that he's proud....
Seems no one any longer cares...
And his fellow warriors are now,
Above the cloud...
Soon he'll climb those stairs...

Vanishing like dinosaurs,
This American-Spartan hero...
Has little left to do...
Ask him about World War II,
He'd be glad he met you...

To show interest
In his sacrifices...
His wounded memories...
His changed life...
His long dead buddies,
His long dead wife...

His mate long gone,
He stares blindly at the TV,
Dressed in the poverty he lives
No one can get inside his head,
Save those so long dead...

He has nothing else to do
Be home alone, with old address books,
Of all his long dead friends,
Photos meaningless,
Except to him,
Time has cheated him,
By leaving him here
In the lonely bar, so dim...

Struggling to make ends,
Six dollars on the bar,
The past in the air,
At home he never cooks,
He just no longer seems to care....

Cigarette smoke in the air,
A forbidden pleasure now,
No one seems dare...
Used to be normal,
Things have changed so,
But not our old warrior,
He'll be the last of his kind
To go...

If today is his last,
That's just fine with him....
His future days will be the same...
The final die is cast.


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #45 / Scribbles

Gray scribbles scratched into black desks
the pent-up hatred of a thousand fiery days
J.Y.’s work is lost, but his rage
radiates and multiplies in our quiet moments