Best Clopping Poems

I remember reading a short story by Hitchcock. Three friends walk and converse as they make their trek home from work. Huddled in mind,
independently fearless, the cold air or hot night baring their souls.

crows on line watching
remembering silhouettes -
chalk line to be drawn

Three, two, one...

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What I Once Saw Dancing, Wearing No Shoes

I saw a terrifying ghost today,
apparition of the ages gone by
There was far too much sadness in its play
dancing long dark clouds in a weeping sky!

I saw a dead man dancing a fine jig,
got a headache seeing such...

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On a humble donkey he once rode
Thunderous crowds by the road
Liberation they craved or
A salvation he gave forth

He rides into Jerusalem once more
With no glare from two thousand years ago
Fear has pulled back praisers out of his path
There was no red carpet but marks of...

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Almonds encased in hard red candy
Brandy from snow white walnuts
Collateral damage to the left front bumper of the sled
Dietary restrictions on anything considered a spice
Everything more often wins the day
Francesca left her pie though (no one will eat that)
Gluwein, go get it, we need it...

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"A Bitter Sweet Tragedy"

   It was a typical mid-morning, on January 15 1919, on Keany Square in
 north Beantown, you could hear the hooves of horses clopping up and down.

   Above the hustle and bustle normally abound, came a deep throated
...

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*** At Age Seventeen ***

At 17, the wooden heels of my boots echoed
My audacious immaturity along my entire way 
    exploring
Manhattan’s south-end area.  Its long blocks, I routed 
For the reason of simply seeing.

In the route I took through that then...

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A snowball bobbed upon the waves 
That raged just like a fireplace, 
And as it rested for a while 
A breeze blew in its face.

His friendly Salmon, all cod eyed 
Ate laughter from a can, 
And having had a belly full 
Then chuckled some to...

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An alienation of Revelations

The rudimentary elements, all collapsed broke free
The whole ordeal made no sense at all
Eclipses and darkened wars of solitude made the eve
It was difficult to comprehend and to accept.
The deluge of torrid ramblings filled my deranged and already on edge mind
I got...

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Someone who once loved me dearly
Now despises me.
In such small things are paved the roads to hell.
A turning away from grace.
A tail-spinning stumble down the stairs,
Hitting my head on my lofty ideals
On my mistaken belief in cloud formations.

The death of romance sheds the most morbid...

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I’m not sure
I have the strength anymore
To be discovered

Stepping into the cold black lake of February
Clopping to work in frozen slop
Snow snarling at my ankles

Car coughing
Windshield gritting its white teeth

I wear a body double of fur curved
Like a polar beast on my back

Then the Voice...

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Shades of Sunrise

Dew about to escape
Breath exchanging life's elements
Another day of deals
Running shoes padding rhythms
Ready the boardroom battles
Clopping horses arriving for oats
Tourists to enchant
Occasional honk
Distress already starting
Cabs feeling lonely
So goes
Central Park awakening

Chad's sunrise-oppression unbearable
One tree shade refuge
Shoulder to shoulder
Elbow to elbow
Meager shelter respites
Awaiting Doctors Without...

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Nazriel Rising Small World Ace

She was as pretty as ever on this night
With me smitten to bits with her aura
As we met on our usual pickup location
Nazriel that one who so compliments me

We were on an official business briefing
One of Epic proportions with intricacies
This time...

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‘tap, tap, tap’

your petite knuckles
gently attacking my door -
I envision their French-painted nails
dancing in the shine of
the hallway light
like a row of bishops bowing to the Pope
(your sensual sacrilege)
I don’t make a sound
though my eye is to the peephole -
watching you for signs of obvious...

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There was a time
not so very long ago
when clopping horses
and sighing sleighs
and paddle splashing canoes,
and then, later, trains
and electric streetcars
were the resounding heart
of multicultural transportation.

And local newspapers
with indigenous, 
perennially planted village editors
among ecoschooled
one-room patriarchal chiefs
competed only with local gossip
in barber shops
and beauty parlors
for communicating hearts,
listening...

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Pony Express Christmas Card Ride

You asked about our Christmas here.
Do reindeer pull the sleigh 
to carry loads of gifts and cheer?

Hoofed beasts we have, they eat fine hay
and in the rain or snow and cold
deliver Christmas cards, as gay

and warming as the cheer of old.
You’ll...

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