Best Barges Poems

she leans back and points bare toes at clouds
chains creak their rhythmic squeak, hypnotic loud
taken aback, her hair sails slipstream flung
downstream freedom for a moment...

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Winter Sonata 11-29-23
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Winter Sonata

In grave allegro solo grey gathers,
Strings of winter fantasias
Brewing staccatos of frozen fall remnants,
Downbeats for the first movement
As shivering sleet wipes away...

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'Twas the night before Christmas, I’d forgotten the sprouts
So I sent out a plea to the local boy scouts
I’d remembered the crackers, the turkey and...

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I could not paint a better picture,
Than the one in front of me,
Of twists and turns of the canal,
Bordered by endless trees.

A warm day with...

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Invisible ladies! You see them ev’rywhere,
In sensible raincoats and Margaret Thatcher hair.
Standing at bus-stops, watching the bus go by:
Waiting at crossings,
Letting the traffic splatter mud...

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River Findings

The Ohio winds around hills
and streams down the hollows
passes steel mills, brick yards and scrap yards.
It carries tug boats, pushes barges, and hauls
black coal...

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I had a horse named Suzie Haus when I was twenty-one.
I had wanted her since I was seven, the waiting was finally done.
She was the...

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A blank crisp canvas before the summer’s sky
As the rainbow of palettes begin to start their cry
With Aquamarine, a reflection of the ocean blue
Followed by...

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The Scots, by God,
They drove them out,
With a single Yorkie
At their heels a' yappin'
The Hobyahs tried to fly
Their arms they were a flappin'

Some managed to...

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...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries...

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...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries...

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You know a cellphone discharges
Electric cars swamp like barges!
You can't make a case
For drivers who face
Assault a battery charges!...

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A lightning-fast swing, 
a blinding slap 
and a few seconds later – a dull thunder of the leaving thunderstorm.
A numbness of words;
a dumbness of feelings;
a...

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I've been meaning to write for a long time. 
but sometimes 
my words willingly remain hostage 
in my heart. 
Not wanting to be heard.
Covered and...

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The great expanse of the Mississippi
just outside a sleepy little ledge-locked
town in western Wisconsin called Maiden Rock,
is where we like to picnic in October.

Above the...

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