Best Former(A) Poems

Swept up into piles; everywhere 
Abouts; in collected heaps all 
Around.               
It is almost as if the drab 
Streets were strewn with the 
Precious wealth of King Solomon's 
Gold!  ...

Continue reading...

For years I wore
your shame as my own
and lived unknown
in terror of being seen
like a leper
self-quarantined
intrinsically unclean

Your neglect
became to me
my insignificance
undeserving of your glance

Your abuse
became to me
my fault and utter blame
my soiled but rightful name 

Your abandonment
to me
was my unworthiness
unfit and valueless

'Til this layered shame...

Continue reading...

A Former Love has
returned into my life.
I'm not too sure 
it's wrong or if it's right.

He once made me feel special
in so many different ways.
It's starting again,
I'm daydreaming all day.

The same old butterfly feelings
are fluttering in the pit of my belly.
Again my heart is awakening,
I'm...

Continue reading...

Lament Of A Former Dark Soul 

I was: once darken shadow of a real man
Those I met soon found me so very bad
Like false gold in a rusty, shallow pan
Time eventually revealed me an evil cad

I was: the partaker of my own laments
A demon hellbent...

Continue reading...

Ode To A Former Wild Life


Drank too hard, rode my horses too fast
didn't give a damn if my body did not last
Midnight was a bell for me to pour it on
get wasted until my head felt like a stone

Pretty gals, O' how they spun my...

Continue reading...

I dedicate this poem to you,
The one who I used to call "friend",
"Best friend", or maybe even "sister".
Yes, you meant that much to me,
And I thought I meant as much to you.
No, maybe not as much, but at least a "best friend".
Did I ask for...

Continue reading...

Dearest, former self
I hope this finds you well
I’ve learned a thing or two
From this weathered, carousel 

It will not cease to spin
And knows of no reverse
You can count on ups and downs
In this ironic universe

Be forewarned, the paint will chip
The music will grow tired
Read my...

Continue reading...

During the '70's, deep in the South,
     I was white but raised black by a black man.
     As a boy, I have watched the Ku Klux Klan
on the news—and was frightened as a youth
who was “black.” In...

Continue reading...

I was renowned as Chief Buffalo Chips, a great leader of many tribes.
I was given that pathetic name by my father resulting in a heap of gibes.
But with a name like his, Chief Tater Chips, what else could I expect,
So I had to count many...

Continue reading...

I have experience as burlesque hyper
Like good policeman Chippendale stripers
    A smile on my face
    Bare in public place
In church Sundays… mama changed my diapers! 

For and in honor of Miranda Lambert
And contest: Burlesque Boutique...

Continue reading...

How the thought of her smiling, sick, rude face
     repels me. What ever was I thinking?
My time lost in her sickening embrace 
     was loathsome, base, gross, foul, vile, and stinking!
O, why gave I myself to one...

Continue reading...

Outside the city, tasty pomegranates grow,
the Wakefields look forward to delayed honeymoon.
British coffee merchant, James was raised in Bordeaux.
Each day, they sample wines after lunch, after noon;
sober sweethearts smile, their selections apropos.

New to their palates - pomegranate/cranberry,
two acidic fruits, both improve in the blending;
secret recipes...

Continue reading...

Don’t let the last name fool you of Greene
As you continue to read, you will understand what made him structured lean
Mr. Greene was a man who won International Federation of Bodybuilders of MR. WORLD title twice
There were times when Mr. Greene called Joe Weider and...

Continue reading...

We laughed so many times
Without even reason
You hugged me when I cried
Blandly called it “rainy season”
We were the closest friends
We might be together
Eternity has found it ends
We could deal with the weather
With the weather in our friendship
With the weather in our attention to each other
We...

Continue reading...

Unlike you, I will not renounce 
the passion of my youth,
now I am old and the fire burns low....

I do regret my sins, mostly of omission:
failing to tell of love, and sharing of love.

The women I've known could fill a ballroom.
Glad I am I danced...

Continue reading...