Best Baritones Poems

The Climate Changed
 
"You were the sun
Once I was perihelion
Now you are aphelion!"
Sang the perihelion of planet earth
In low baritones
 
What is the perihelion of planet earth to do now?
A pointless POINT
Wandering in a void
 
Year 2021
The planet earth is all but
Gone`
 
The last climate...

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The ground was blanketed with fallen leaves
that crunched under their feet as they ducked
into the bushes and secluded spots behind thick trees
The forest was their domain the comforts of life
as fugitives in hiding they could survive,
it beat capture  and torture.

Emerging on the path came...

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A TRIBUTE TO ALAN DALE :
     Prince Of Baritones
       (1925 – 2002) 

Long, long, ago, as the story goes, 
A cherry tree had grown next to an
apple tree! 
And underneath them a boy had met
his...

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The rented hall ways so surreal.
Cheerful alumnus ranting sex appeal.
Forgive my dropping a time bomb.
Taking Mother to the prom.
Our student body didn't shake.
All others escorted steady dates.
A proclivity prom, above all others.
Our band encrypted, "The Righteous Brothers".
Bobby Hatfield's introverted eyes, somehow.
Deeply scanned the milk punch...

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I fell this morning-
Stumbled over fear, surrender my bitter dressings
Kissing the distance of sanity 
Defying gravity 
Levitating toward the inevitable 

Plunging into the comfort of solace fed into my spirit as joy becomes mine 
Shoulders lightened 
Released the burdens.
Unclogged empty spaces looking to fill lonesome...

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You'd hear them every morning
Like a band of baritones
The echoes of the horseshoes
Clacking, on the cobblestones
Each huckster with a wagon
Pulled behind a blindered roan
Parading back and forth between
The rows of old brownstones

One would have fresh vegetables
And one would have fresh fruits
Another might have leather goods
Like...

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Who is in the room?
Who owns the room?

When the GreenWoke Tribe
evaluate their strategic platform
for conquering RedUnWoke DiaTribes
what politically scientific purpose
and/or psychotherapeutic intent
for healthy inclusive democracy

[and not merely more wealthy
StraightWhiteMale corporate kleptocracy]

may wake up and win/win thrive?

Not so stuck on playing win/lose
monopoly games
preferred by monotheistic
anthrosupremacists,
privileged competitions
for...

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This jazz pallete weeps with greed 
for the return of some bebop 
and crooning bleeds.
Neon flagships that lit the night
with saxophones 
and trumpets bright.
This bird bottled in country twang
is popping the cork
for some bluesy swang.
Spinning the vinyl under needled arm
baritones ripple 
as nerves are darned.
Shattered...

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Julius Jaggery Jones
Had an ache deep in his bones
Sang the blues for nickels and dollars
In mellowest of baritones.

Julius Jaggery Jones
Seated on street cobblestones
Paid his dues in groanings and hollers
Delivering back alley moans....

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What I appreciate about playing musical chairs

This game is less about sitting around in chairs
and more about the traumatic absence 
of safe secure chairs

And these chairs are silent as a conspiracy;
not the least bit musical,
as curiously advertised.

What I like about musicals

Song and dance musicals
re-image
re-frame sacred...

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DECADENCE

I pinch myself to feel the real
it seems so darn dang surreal
this decadent Dallas life I live
questioning locals who 
miss the thrill

Oysters and wine
culinary fine
no crime
all smooth
this perfect
Bible belt of
Gospel truth

day and night time
rendezvous 
Chase, Chuck & Buck
Budweiser cowboys
watching you
real men with rugged
pheromones 
who know...

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Sung in perfect harmony
to express the way
her appreciation in song
expressions and directions
curved to music
crooned to song
a tenor's rendition
of a baritones affair
she stopped to smooth-out her hair
a glare to the crowd
she smirked than moved closer
only to see who she had sought to see
she sang to him
some...

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As much as I love music,
I’m not sorry to admit
That opera’s the exception,
For I like it not one bit.

It’s not that I don’t understand
The words (although that’s true),
But rather it’s the voices
All the critics ballyhoo.

Sopranos, tenors, baritones -
They all get on my nerves,
Then you toss...

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Friday night is for rehearsal
sac in air, before 
it breaks— breath out
into the soft dew
itching palms on our head.

Soon the baritones will arrive
stuffing music with tonic notes
for me to ride:
the terrors of solmization
& unbridled pitch sounds.

Boys says Sunday without your
mezzo-sopranos is like a 
metaphor of...

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Christ’s high rank, squarely behind it
In man’s life, The Brightest Candle Lit,
Though Bank Robbers celebrate their heist,
Nothing wanting from Carpenter Christ.

Also, our marking of our birthdays
And anticipation of Better Days,
Straight from Yesterday’s Frays,
That had knocked out hopes and rays.

With carols The Yuletide is expressed:
Tunes ensuring...

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