anticipated Albany albatrosses
buried bumpy bugs beyond the bay
creepy curious cats dug them up
dinner for dogs they said in disgust
even the dogs turned up their snouts at the bugs
frenzied finicky felines are crazy they barked
giant crows arrived and devoured the gruesome bugs
helping themselves to six or eight at a time
I am glad these raptors showed up said the dogs
jealousy in no way entering their heads
kilt-wearing albatrosses happened along
lingering close to where their bug stash used to be
mad now, they marched menacing around the meadow
no need to be upset, the bugs escaped, lied the dogs
opportunity to be peacemakers always taken by pups
pacifists and problem solvers
quails and quackers put their six cents in
raising the ire of the miffed albatrosses
sixteen sparrows sauntered in to stir things up too
they had heard there was a show-down
ugly words were tweeted and chirped
verbs and vowels best not repeated here
wrens and warblers were shooed off by the fray
‘xact ‘xchange never ‘xamined or journaled
you are lucky you escaped this melee
zealous birds can become dangerously ugly.
Categories:
albany, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Abecedarian
The trails runs the edge for several miles,
a clifftop walk, it is no great trial,
atop a long precipice of limestone,
where big, black vultures soar, and make their home,
a rugged wall, by ancient peoples known,
so it looms, this stubborn piece of wild.
Atop it a state park has sat for years,
small fences up to calm a parent’s fears,
but you know kids, they’ll always go ahead
and fearlessly peer over that great ledge,
the beauty awes even in their young heads,
like all souls, they’re stirred by the wonder here.
Some metal stairs descend down to the base,
so folks can walk along the smallish caves,
‘hold up the earth’ in a picture they snap,
see Minekill Falls, and walk around its back,
find passageways where Iroquois made tracks,
and Tory soldiers hid in olden days.
It seems so close, you can see Albany,
but when the winds blow you almost believe
that this place is at the edge of the earth,
like some lost land you found after long search,
quite thankful that people have seen the worth
of these tree-clad cliffs in their majesty.
Categories:
albany, america, appreciation, imagery, mountains,
Form: Rhyme
I see you in Albany
yet you pull away from the call
aloft to all those that care
Gone are the fields
once mellow blue
that curved and glided,
that tears at your heart
Try to dream
beneath the trees
Heed the call
Categories:
albany, anxiety,
Form: Free verse
I wrote six poems in my car on my way to school
Put my phone on record, which is my general rule
It only picked up about half of what I said
I am irritated now, for these were the best in my head
Surely you can replicate them said a non-writer
He’s lucky that I have no weapons and am not a fighter.
His attitude irritated me all the way to Albany and back.
I lamented to my animals, Big Bone and Little Merry Mack.
Categories:
albany, writing,
Form: Rhyme
'Georgia On My Mind'
'Hit the Road, Jack' 'What'd I Say?'
Musing through rhythm
Seeing clearly with my 'first'
The 'Genius' from Albany
Categories:
albany, appreciation, blessing, celebration, inspiration,
Form: Tanka
From hills and orchard row to the Queen’s chain
plume the toetoe, the ponga’s silver gild -
in planted grove and fertile dairy plain
droved is the fatted calf and the earth tilled.
White breasted native wood pigeons cooing
leap bearing fruits and leaves to feed among,
and up above in splendid chorus wing
the tui, bellbird, and grey warbler song.
O’ to see that autumn sun’s gentle fade
on the dew shine of fallen crown of leaves,
and macrocarpas betwixt light and shade
when April rains fall its bowers and eaves.
Soon the solstice will a changing invoke
and idle woodfired stovepipes fill with smoke.
Written: April 1996
Categories:
albany, autumn, seasons,
Form: Sonnet
The line of people out the door.
The queue that snaked around the floor.
The building's sleek art deco style.
The carpets' faded plush red pile.
The "Coming Soon" in convex frames.
The "Showing Now" and big star names.
The James Bond pose in poster shots.
The tickets from the kiosk slots.
The heavy doors that often creaked.
The seats on springs that always squeaked.
The fan shaped lights along the side.
The screen that stretched up high and wide.
The smoke that swirled inside the beam.
The shapes and sounds of Pearl And Dean.
The adverts that had overrun.
The trailers for the films to come.
The feature that would come on first.
The sudden pangs of extreme thirst.
The usherette's cool ice cream stint.
The fancy names like Midnight Mint.
The expectations in the place.
The action of the opening chase.
The talking scenes that went nowhere.
The plastic cup beneath my chair.
The glance at watches in poor light.
The stunts and guns and final fight.
The seats that sprung as credits rolled.
The exit doors and night time cold.
Categories:
albany, childhood, film, memory,
Form: Rhyme
I stand on a train to Albany
Whistling a tune out of key
I get many looks
Thrown are many books
As I am trying to sing while I pee
Russell Sivey
Categories:
albany, funny, humorous,
Form: Limerick
In 1914 at Albany the first ANZAC soldier's fleet gathered
And on the transports the soldiers were by orders tethered
She was the Light-house keeper's young daughter so patriotic
Using semaphore signals she spoke to them on youth's topic
It was to the Great War battles fought and won ahead of all
Each word semaphored from ship to shore their excited call
Finally off to Egypt, Gallipoli shores and Western Front they went
There were tough trials of bullet, shot and gas towards them sent
They remembered this girl with her heart felt messages freely given
Their letters and postcards in her mind her thoughts of them still living.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Categories:
albany, remember, world war i,
Form: Ballad
Surveying
northern autumn afternoon
Pitcherelli, ex-marine, body-builder,
Lussier, long-haired father of three dark-skinned children
and myself, sharp-edged loner, ex-lover of a fair share of women
are belly-laughing in the dying sun. Clouds.
The crew, in timber.
Laughing
over recent visits to marvelous cities where
we could not keep ourselves from touching the terminal buds
of numerous exotic trees
and attracting ridicule of stylish girls and tame boyfriends.
Pitcherelli before the Albany bus station
shaking hands with a red pine planted thirty years ago.
Lussier, one hand in a child's hand and the other
feeling scabrous bark of urban woody plants.
Myself among partially shaved heads and leathery aromatic jackets
getting close to the hairy bud of an unidentified poplar or sycamore.
People
laughed, but we laughed best
back on our mountain
under the blackening weather.
Categories:
albany, autumn, body, father, hair,
Form: Verse
Considering all the people there, it’s a big state!
Many members from New York have talent that's great.
Poets hail from Syracuse, Rochester, Albany,
Plattsburgh, Scarsdale, White Plains, or Schenectady.
They may come from Niagara Falls or Binghamton,
or one of the five boroughs such as Bronx or Brooklyn.
From Long Island Sound, to as far west as Buffalo,
the poets from New York are the ones we should know.
These folks can write up a storm of impressive poetry.
Their fanciful works defy comparability.
They live anywhere between Yonkers and Utica.
The numbers of their great poems are a plethora.
So we salute all our members from the Empire State
You are the people everyone can appreciate!
Categories:
albany, dedication, on writing and
Form: Rhyme
CELEBRATING THE LIGHT
Ten minutes and still it won’t change
Late for her birthday party again,
Just like last year
She celebrates forty two years young tomorrow
The 24th of December
Here I have driven halfway across the state
And am again stopped by the same red light in town
Made good time between Albany and Erie
Then down to a crawl at the tracks
And dead stop at this light
My God, the sun’ll be up soon if we don’t get moving
Grey dawn sky parts to reveal even more clouds higher up in the sky
She’ll think I’ve forgotten
Ok - at last the red flashes to green and hey, up comes the sun too!
I remember she’d always say her birthday marked the end of the darkest day
She always joked she was born with the return of the light
Now slip into cruise control and we’ll be there in fifteen minutes
She’ll think her old man’s losing it for sure
But still . . . . . I can’t wait to see my youngest daughter again
She was always the light of my life
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Debbie Guzzi's Contest Celebrate the Light
Categories:
albany, family, light, birthday, light,
Form: Free verse
the Government gives developers and corporations huge tax breaks
but the workers only get poverty wages and public funds they need to take
to earn $8 dollars an hour on which to raise a family
I don't know about you but I think that's an absurdity
we need prevailing wages to be set in the work place
what those companies are trying to pay the workers is a disgrace
Albany get off your rear ends and do the job for which you've been elected
for as sure as you're in that position by the people you can be rejected
you've lost the people's trust and New Yorkers are in an uproar
stop all the filabustering and get some legislation passed into law
Justice in the Work Place that's one of the reason you were sent to Albany
Justice in the Work Place for the workers and their families
Categories:
albany, angst, family, on work
Form: Dramatic Monologue
The Whalers
There is a perfect hideaway
Down by the southern shore.
It overlooks the ocean
Where giant breakers roar
Was from this port, in days gone by
The whalers plied their trade
There was no shame in honest toil
How soon some memories fade.
For they supplied the very oil
To light the settlers lamp
Secluded in the lonely bush
And in the diggers camp
The world has changed, and values to
And thoughts have turned around
But do not vilify the men
Who sailed King George’s Sound
They count with pride among the men
Who helped to build this land
Among them were my forefathers
And by them I will stand.
The Whalers of Albany Western Australia
Categories:
albany, history
Form: Rhyme
Took my truck to Albany last week,
Lost my fan belts,had a flat on the street.
Went to New York,the big apple at last,
Crossed the toll bridge,they took my pass.
Went to Minnesota,clear to the end.
Can't find a load,you are laid over my friend.
Went to Louisiana,trying to get home you see,
Only to find out,I was bound for Milwakee.
I quit making plans now that I find,
When not making plans,I get great home time.
Categories:
albany, adventure, family, funny, social,
Form: Rhyme
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