Best Gins Poems

(Please read The Park -- Part One first ...
This is a continuation from Part One, due to space limitations)

Yes, kids at play are bold and wise
with flashing smiles and knowing eyes.
Children tire easily of grown-up prattle;
thoughts turn to cakes, to toys that rattle.
They think that...

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Quiet Please                                           ...

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"RED"


Listen he said, “How many ways can you see Red?”

“Well”, she sighed, “Let’s start with Cherry Pie, 
oozing it’s juices all over your chin
and plump moist Red Raspberries staining your sheets, then again
what about Claret or a bold Sauvignon swallowed straight from the bottle
drops fall...

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Dear dada
add an “ist”
to it all

I reject 
in the face 
of it all 

Aestheticism 

true beauty 
is found in the 
ugliness of it all

peaking out 
under coverlets 
of mud 

throwing 
spit balls
of pulchitrude

wrapped up 
time bombs
that stick 

to the banal 
unexpected beauty …
of it all,...

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But I walk along.
Forte to my cause.
A fort of strength…
Militarily built -
     Therefore, must be militarily defeated.
Many say I am a buyout -
     Too much intelligence to decipher.

No lack of esteem that can be embraced maybe a...

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The county seat,  a place of humidity and musical beats. 
After many years, I decided to revisit my hometown,
Hoping to walk down memory lanes of warm treats,                 ...

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There at the market place
Onlookers gathered singing the masquerade’s praise.
A visible ghost about to get loose-
Held by its companion, from fleeing like a wandering goose.

The masquerade yearns to dance
Swaying like a drunkard it needs this one chance.
Bells hung on its cloak
Cane in hand seeking a...

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Hello Issaquena
by Curtis Johnson

The county seat, humidity, and musical beats. 
After many years, I went to visit my hometown,
Hoping to walk down memory lanes of warm treats,                  ...

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It was late in the afternoon
Of the 17th of January 1993
That my whole
Intoxicated universe
Finally exploded
                               ...

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The Grim Reaper, stirs from another well earned day of heavenly sleep
From within the bowels of this cavernous earth, from his cave so deep

His cloak and scythe, been cast to one side in an unceremonious heap
From last night’s hard work of collecting souls in the...

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Immaterial Soul 
A sprout abundant of immortal hope, 
a search of a pulse of love in his heart,
an empty threat vivid in a man of a dying soul, 
as the echoes in his heart race to slay him whole.
Hope arrives within stone’s throw.

A shining star...

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I say, let’s hit the road,
when it’s nice and cold. 
I’m a single woman,
I scream alone in my room, 
with no cat, no kid, no hubby;
I don’t sweep much with my broom. 

I say let’s hit the road, 
when it’s nice and cold. 
I ain’t...

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I look straight through the pane,
and see the floating veins of branches, naked and sometimes in full bloom.

Behind this the national flag flaps away, raised by the good vicar's son, he used to be a lawyer, by the way, he likes to preach.

Always a jumbo...

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/tang led /co coon /hea vy /with in /this shell
/I can /feel the /fall ing /whisp ers /out side
/it calls /and i /list en, /per haps /too well
/the door /is op /ened I /can not /hide

/And she /pulls me /out with /Si rens /song
/the air...

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Bygone Days
Written: By Tom Wright
4/3/2007

Remember the slogan
 “Haskell is moving, are you pushing?

The railroad depot stands no more
In the spot it occupied for so long.
Instead in it’s space, a Homeland store,
But in my memory it doesn’t belong.

Just across the street a Janitorial supply
Where once was...

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