Alex Poems

Roots - For Alex Haley

Pensile clouds of a new Truth loom.
With them are selected versions of
Extinct grief.

Looking through the yellowness of a
Dog’s eyes, this aura of Truth, pervasive,
Sours my palate.

What say the bulletins and tabloids
In their speech potency?

Have they recoiled on the sudden encroachment
Of stale seas
Or have they rolled out drums for Haley’s ROOTS?

Between Kamby Bolongo of watery essence
And

Hey Alex

Hey Alex you were just a number
Used and abused into a slumber
All those tours hoping you would blunder 
Slicing your brain like a cucumber

No Gordon you don't know
I'm the stronger person which I can show
Your so weak I can get you anytime
Your my next statistic in the line

Alex your out of my head
All you want

Alice, Alex; Amber

It’s not often we’re together
you and I
within this unconscious soul,
drugs;
alcohol last time we met.
And, as before,
always,
we’ll fight
the two of us
like squirming ferrets
in this gray sack
she calls her mind.
Who will prevail before she wakes?
The one that doesn’t 
recognize
the child she bore?
The one that spits and shouts
at everyone comes near?
There was a third,
we buried it some time

Now He Belongs To The Ages

"You're gonna face trouble if Navalny dies in prison, 2021"—President Biden

Martyr & Saint
1976-2024

By tempting fate, speaking truth to power, he languished in icy confinement
This courageous proud Russian was a bold soul of staunch refinement

This tormented martyr, and prophetic sage, silenced and confined to a cage
Continued to fight his tenacious battle, while we heeded his words

the alex Jonsess

The Alex Joneses among us

As we are coming up to Christmas, which is a feast 
for the advertisers, and it is impossible turning 
or switching on the radio or TV without getting an earful of sentimental songs flung at morning tired 
adults before the first cup of coffee 
PS. There was a time when one

Alex Jones

Antagonistic
Lying conspirator
Earsplitting
Xenophobe

Judgmental jerk
Offensive
Naysaying
Empty-headed
Spreader of misinformation

Written August 8, 2022

A Poet Tree

Eye candy of literacy
Sit with me under the poet tree
It's colorful leaves with windy wet dreams
Glowing growing holy wise sandy seas
Raining sonnets psalms songs of gold
Beige yesterday, neon now, future silver soul
Of foreign of home
Of saint sinner some other zone
This black leaf is Emily
So dark smart sharply bleak
The red leaf rouge and profound
As Alice Walker's

Smart Alex

Alex Smart was no fool.
He knew he was smart and cool.
He had deep dimples,
And not a trace of a pimple,
Because it was his first day at school

Tribute For Alex Trebek, Host of Jeopardy

In Memory of Alex Trebek
Host of Jeopardy 11/8/2020 R.I.P.


J- Jubilant and jovial 
E- Elegant, eternally entertaining 
O- Optimistic and how orderly
P- Patient plus poised
A- Amicable and assuring
R- Relevant and Ravishing 
D- Dashing and dignified
Y- Youthful to the end


I know many of you who watched Jeopardy and will miss him.He was a first class person. A man

Rip Alex Trebek

All across the U.S.
From the east to west coast
Folks are mourning the loss
Of the “Jeopardy” host.

He was there on our screens
More than 35 years
In a job few would choose
As their hoped-for careers.

Always steadfast and calm,
Never ruffled or down,
He was king of the hosts
Though he needed no crown.

At the end he did share
With us all his

Dedication To Alex Braes

The early hours of a Wednesday morning in a small country town.
An 18-year-old boy struggles to sleep
He had pain so bad 
all he could do was weep 
he, knee was so painful
he had to go to the hospital
his father took him there
once there it seemed 
nobody was to care
the failure in regional hospitals
is undeniable in

Tribute To Honnold

Right foot into this little dimple that you can toe in on aggressively so it’s opposing the left hand, then you can, like, zag over across to this flat, down-pulling crimp that’s small but you can bite it.
[From Honnold’s climbing notebook.]

For me, the most transcendental feat –
your smeared soles at Freeblast Slabs,
your shoulder jammed into

Call Me Alex

She looks in the mirror,
ungrateful of what she sees:
full hips,
decent chest,
curves in all the right places.
Long beautiful hair,
bright blue eyes.
A feminine face,
feminine all the rest. 
A frown on her lips,
mind full of thoughts. 
"What would it be like,
to swap places?"
She grabs a scissors,
and puts her hair up.
Closes her eyes,
and snip.
The ponytail falls to her feet.
She

Her Voice: For Alex Lascelles

For a lady who had a twinkle in her eye and one of the most powerful reading voices I have ever heard...

When Alex Lascelles
Did the readings at church
Her deep ancient voice
Like a dignified drum
Sounded like God

by Gail

The Epitaph of Mr Alex Wanton Wells

He was born Alex Wanton Wells -
A healer of the incurable and a remover of spells,
Died chasing his insatiable appetite for quails;
He’s not there, for he kicked the pails!

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