Best Drawers Poems
The protests are written from the busy pen
of the one whose thoughts are quite driven
yet she cries "foul" like a rumple feathered hen
when the thoughts of another are simply given
Her name-calling ploy is such a childish game
for each one of us has the right to our opinion
without castigation and a finger pointing blame
I'm not a vengeful person, nor a poet's minion
I don't seek attention as a clown or a witch
I've not slandered anyone with my remarks
My fastballs are always thrown as a legal pitch
I'm vaccinated so I don't fear mad dog barks
Social equality is as much mine as it is yours
I've the right to write or speak what I feel
without giving a wedgie to someone's drawers
I'm not vicious like you called me in your spiel
You want to dwell in sorrow for the human race
but I have hope for mankind and will not brood
Our differences will never allow for an embrace
but only one of us illustrates the right attitude
Freudian Slip
Don't take this as a flippant quip
But you know what's showing?
Your Freudian Slip
You may think you're ultra hip
But your subconscious speaks
Through the words that slip
When you're flustered, try to get a grip
But you only make it worse
Over your tongue you trip
Don't bother trying to zip your lip
Let it all hang out from under
Your Freudian Slip
**************************
Jungian Drawers
This is no mere jest or hype
But you're my kind of archetype
Cast upon Plutonian shores
What showing? It's my Jungian Drawers
The Collective Unconscious is how I know
That you love me, and boy, it shows
Freud and Adler are such wretched bores
To you, I'll toss my Jungian Drawers
Another true tom tale;
Not too long ago
I did really own
A pair of
Fruit of the Loom briefs,
One detined to make me groan
For sure, it had,
Seen a better day,
And up until this time
I now surely wonder why
I did not throw the damn thing away...
See, I wore them under
my sweatpants,
Turned out I would have preferred
To bear a nest of ants...
Ever try walking
With your shorts down
to your knee?
It's very much unpleasant
And a sight to see...
Your constantly grabbing
At your groin,
As if you were in pain,
Or perhaps you seem
One totally insane
And you walk like
You've stepped in a
bear trap,
Or maybe horsey-dung
When I finally got home
I'd see how far they could be flung
But in the meantime,
life was torture
I felt like such a fool
What was I thinking of?
I sure did not look cool...
I walked like a penguin,
With antsy-antsy pants,
Grabbing at my loin,
At every possible chance...
Stupid does as stupid is
I'll never doubt that fact
When I got home,
I ordered up a stack
Of brand new underwear
And that was not all
I ordered suspenders
To wear underneath
So my briefs don't fall!
that was worrying
but not surprising
for
who can
really tell who might leave
what in drawers
when
we move
home do we some
times not find strange objects
lurking
we moved
to a
new home
on saturday night
we locked the front door
my
wife
then asked me to check the cupboards
upstairs
"there might
be someone in one"
The thing about drawers,
they hide clutter.
If company's coming,
do a bit of “stuff it” cleaning;
throw stuff in a drawer, and close it.
Neatness counts.
The problem evolves -
how to remember - what went where.
“Where’s the thermometer?”
“I don’t know.
It should be in the linen closet.”
“Well, it isn’t!”
“Try drawer number seven.”
“That’s the first place I looked.”
Drawer number seven
is the ‘catch-all’ drawer.
Of all the drawers I have known,
drawer number seven
is the most fascinating.
If you go rummaging,
you never know what you’ll find.
Rosemary Clooney’s song,
“Come Ona My House” expresses
her desire to give you everything.
If you come to our house,
we might match her desire
but I’m not sure we’d know
where to find stuff.
The smell is there people start to gag
Having smelly drawers isn't like waving the flag
People make comments under their breath
They say my smell is the closest to death
The question is will I ever change my ways
I haven't changed my drawers in 5 days
No girls want to spend any time with me
The smell is herendous, I have to agree
My family has found a way to cope
Get close enough, you would probably croak
The summer heat, sitting in my car, the traffic delays
The heat makes the truth be known, I haven't changed my drawers in 5 days
Now I am almost to Wal Mart, should I buy new drawers
They could last 20 days if I bought a pack of 4
I am doing my best to clean up my act
I ask my girl if I'm on the right track
She said you can start by staying 50 feet away
Now she is aware, I haven't changed my drawers in 5 days
Looking back
curiously acquiescent
in 4th floor chaos
Looking through these
dresser drawers of
sleepy underclothing
Retrospective shirts
and tiresome socks,
these sheaths of self
more coincidental
than designed
Everything ajar,
windows, doors
my dresser drawers
Clues left coyly
in my path
by boorish poltergeists
Half absent,
I impassively apprise their
surreptitious ways,
their secret jokes
on my reclusion
LOST dreams slide insensibly toward madness of dreams -- you close your eyes shut your wooden windows to life ~~ your dilated eyes drowning in a violent ocean.
Mister, you forgot your hat but now days no one wears them good day Sir. Oh, froth from your mouth falls pouring the overlow of your head without moorings of your paralyzed tongue. How you got me thinking, "wasting my time."
Outside your heart the citizens of a lost world await tensed up toward your hallucinations.
You let me down.
If we had a world of our own, everything would be nonsense ~~~ so way way down inside curiouser and curiouser! Rabbits and Cats oh whoo!
We were fooling then like double death swift dying of mingled breath an evaporation of unknown strange perfume between souls in a naked room called Love ~~ a telephone.
And still I ask are you the same? How are you feeling? Don't you realize the things we talked about like dreams -- i'd brush summer by with half my smile so half spurn.
Housewives do, a Fly they do like black magic.
If i look into the skies I could with you within a year. I'd wind months into balls and put them separated into drawers by centuries, delayed.
Subtracting, wondering why (that you were mine, I was never yours in time-twilight) i'd toss it yonder, like a defunct mind and choose Eternity.
Okay. So you never answered and I let it ring a bit longer.
Like the shadows of forevermore that will not speak, "it stings."
Oh wap doo duh hop no side dreams between telephone lines.
Oh, hot wax on my third eye it left a mark ~~ it's how I knew I could have loved you.
:: 07.07.2022 ::
It all tastes like
Brown manila
Rusty tools
Fading, planes escape into
Lily pad clouds
Shrinking yellow rays stroll
Across dusty floors
Arthritic Autumn smoke
Sweet in
Forgotten drawers opened
Far away
Put away in
Brown manila envelopes
I withdraw the words
already so forgotten
on the clothesline of time
because so they
wish thus...
ON THE LINE
I put them to dry
on the line of light,
because so they
need. to..
WORD BRIGHTNESS
all words
wisht to shine... all
word desire to run away
from the drawers...!
Each drawer that I fill,
stores something past
The future spread out
on the bed
As each one closes,
its memories sleep safe
My dreams quilted,
and looking ahead
Thoughts layered inside,
piled neatly and stacked
In silence,
their stories unfold
Each drawer front embossed,
with a message they share
“Open Only If Naked And Cold”
The dresser sits quiet,
its handles untouched
As new history begins
to rewrite
And construction resumes,
with the words piled high
To store wings that have yet
to take flight
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
I am full of love, and encouragement wrapped into one
In here I rest silently, waiting to be found by lost sons
Trapped and dusty forgotten lore, I wait to espouse
What no one should not know, especially the louse
Whispering winds of the desert, you can almost feel them
flowing through me, stories of great deeds and freedom
So many illusions dispelled, so many fortunes told
Long ago in my troubled times, yet in yours, ten fold
Here I am wasting away with so much to give
A heart, a hand, a way for you to truly live
Encrypted not with a key, not for you who lodges,
I'll turn none of you away, not even the maharahjas.
Premiered at Midland Motor Speedway, Odessa, TX – 6/26/1998
ACT 1
Das Lied für Alma
Still Life Instrumental
First Nights
Pain Hurts
Violet
Dancing with the Blues
The Reckoning
No One’s Going Home
ACT 2
Brickyard Informal
Beneath the Wheel
Eyes of a Miner
Here She Was
Halfway to My Knees
The Last Time We Made Love
ACT 3
I Quit
Never Be Too Far Away
Yesterday’s Coffee
Stale Green Light
Our boss can easily touch her toes
But when she does her underwear shows
Each day of the week
We all get a peek
But Willy's excitement grows and grows
Our solar system is over four billion years old
It'll probably last another 5000 million, I'm told
Whew! Had me pooping
My drawers they're a-drooping
Glad I've only got a few more years till I fold