Best Axles Poems

I took my periodic stroll through the local antique store today.
There were the usual horse collars, clocks and various sundries on display.
Havin' no need fer...

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The eucalyptus sting that burns my nose
And eyes is not enough to mask the tide,
Of eloquent free speech and purple prose,
Delivered from armchairs set side...

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When I was a child ‘bout five to six I used to dream that this were me
I’d peel back frame from toys, take apart their...

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TWO   KIDS   REMEMBERING


There we were

Next to the railtracks in the middle of the industrial heartland of 1950s Tyneside

Martin and me 

Summer’s...

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Here's the deal, folks...
   This is, as indicated, the 2nd HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this...

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Note

(Try to put your best Scottish accent on when reading this one)



Disguarded fae the workplace, rusted red distorted frame.
Mangled handles reachin' oot like a wee...

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My shoulders are well oiled axles,
my fists are cannon balls

I am an uncompromised,
uninhibited,
and unchallenged fresh breath of boldness

I am a statue of fastholding,
chiseled down from...

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Commodities calmly caressing. Calling carrots. Calling capers. Calamity is not an injested window wiper nor a window sill so dare to jump off a pinnacle...

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I was pretty cranky when my spanky new bike was janky.
The frame was too short for my body, too tall and lanky.
The tires too fat,...

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Kansas City nightfall
in a rose-petal garden
Take the Easton & George
to the end of the line
He's been put down to slaughter
turned ash till he rose
To take...

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The engine revs faster,
The transmission grinds as i shift, 
I turn the music up to forget why im 
here, 
Moonlight flooded the ground making 
everything...

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Redding Poem 1
"Oh Noisy Redding"

There at the Thunderbird Lodge in downtown Redding,
I heard the gods screaming from steel axles with rubber
Claws, scratching the timeless asphalt...

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Beneath the city the river fishing is good.

I roam with tackle and pole below those wiggling tapeworms
Wound around the cement underbelly of bridges
Devouring the guts...

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Wagons packed, gunny sacked

                     ...

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The Greyhound reels over creaking axles.
Northern Kentucky puts on weight in summer,
a green mélange thickens,
yet inside our trundling tube, 
joints rattle,
gears burn through paunch and...

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