Best Gould Poems
Murder at the Prom
Frankie Lyman shrilled his falsetto.
Gwendolyn Gould danced in stilettos.
So callously smothered,
they never recovered.
Poor little piggies, scrunched little toes.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
March 11, 2012
Born Joseph Ferdinand Gould, in Norwood Massachusetts, 1889.
A 1911 graduate of Harvard, and a
Greenwich village Bohemian from 1916 until 1957,
and the time of his death at age 68.
Joe was a filthy and disgusting man, who constantly smelled
like homeless shelter disinfectant.
Dirty fingers, greasy clothes but also an intellectual.
He was a writer, a poet, a lier and a bum, A thief and
A drunk, and other poets hated him and he hated them.
He once told them that "Not only is your poetry bad, but
also stolen from other bad poets."
One night he convinced them that he had written the
most wonderful poem, and that they should allow him
to stand and recite it, and they did.
Joe stood up that night back in 1942, in the Raven poetry club
in New york city`s Lower East side, and read his poem.
" In winter I`m a Buddhist,
and in summer I`m a nudist."
With that I raise my glass to you Joe Gould. I wish I had known ya!
Great country rich, land of my birth, that cradled my childhood and taught me of
Worth.'
Land of struggles, and dreamtime lore.'
A country of invention, and of weathers raw.'
Do we have an easy history.? I must answer no.' I owe us; that much at the
least.'
In my mix of emotions, i shall try to so'
Well, to put a relief of our history in this
I'll tell.'
Of a crowns avairice, of some humans in
Chains, others free agents who came to
Make gain'
They came to Australia..with expectations
And dreams, some of great horror' they did
Create scenes.'
Then there were the existing, the Aboriginal
Mobs, living for millenia with their corroberee councils..
Hunters and trackers, survivalists and they paid their costs, leaving newborn infants, in
The open to die.' If the extra life would be too much? This was a part of their bush lives; to oft..
Then there were the guvenors, and officers of the crown, instructed to tame the country.'
With their own views.' As they built the settlements, and kept their convicts
Down.'
There were lashings and hangings, And genocide too.' All tasmanian Native
Peoples wiped out..Its quite true.'the decades advanced..
( The boomerang factor )
From the past collision of cultures, a new country was emerging..Herb Elliot was to become a champion, Lionel Rose Evonne Goolagong,
Shane Gould..We were really flying.'
In the 1960s and 1970s there was an atmosphere of change and hope.' A wish
To be more unified, and a regret.' I tell
No jokes.. I ask all Aussies can we
Go back.? And fix the wrongs we did not
Do.'
Or do we move forward on Australia day.'
And all the days that follow too.? Can we
Be free of trauma.? Yet refer to lessons past.? I advise resume in the ' true blue spirit ' and give the world a blast.' Avoid the
Forigen influencers who want to rake dead
Coals..' Only to enslave us all..!!! Now
get up' be your best; be really bold.!!!
Four years ago today
9/11 rang in our ears
Our Nation still cries a river
Into a sea of tears
Patrick Driscoll 70, was retired
Jane Folger 73, retired as well
Toshiya Kuge was a student
When the Twin Towers fell
Husbands and fathers
Todd Beamer 32, Jason Dahl 43
Alan Beaven 48, joined them
On United Airlines flight 93
Donald Arthur Peterson 66
And his wife Jean 55
Were proud to be Grandparents
They perished side by side
Mark Bingham 31, a businessman
Edward Porter Felt 41, would travel
Mark Rothenberg flew that day
When it all began to unravel
Joseph Deluca 52
A son, brother and close friend
Held on to Linda Gronlund 46
Until the very end
Nicole Carol Miller 21
Kissed her boyfriend at the gate
Christine Snyder 32, newlywed
Neither of which knew their fate
Deora Bodley 20, was a youngster
Honor Elizabeth Wainia 28, a daughter
Sandy Bradshaw 38 was a wife
What a senseless slaughter
Thomas E. Burnett Jr. 38, husband
Georgine Rose Corrigan 56, a mother figure
Cee Cee Lyles 33, was a wife and mother
Can now only be seen in pictures
Deborah Welsh 49, wife and good friend
Kristin Gould White 65, someone’s mother
John Talignani 74, Jeremy Glick 31
They were both fathers and someone’s brother
Waleska Martinez 37
Was a daughter and a sister
Andrew Garcia 62, husband and grandfather
Earned him the title of Mister
Richard Guadagno 38, “intense friend”
Colleen Fraser 51, someone’s sibling
Christian Adams 37, a husband and daddy
You can hear the angel’s sing
Patricia Cushing 69, an Aunt
Lorraine Bay 58, a flight attendant
William Cushman 57, was a construction worker
Into the field is where they were sent
Wanda Green 49, mom and daughter
Lauren Grandcolas 38, sister-in-law
Hilda Marcin 79 was someone’s mother
When the world began to fall
Louis Nacke 42, a son-in law
Along with Leroy Homer 36, a husband
Donald Greene 52, loved camping
With his brothers he called friends
So above you see the names again
Of the hero’s on United Airlines flight 93
We remember them today, four years later
For what they did for you and me
APRIL KERSEY-STRONG
9/11/05
I'm a cop and my name is Dick Tracy.
A lot of cops are corrupt but not me.
I can't be bought just like Eliot Ness.
Because of crime, this city is a mess.
A Crime Lord runs this town and his name is Big Boy Caprice.
While he's operating, there will be no peace.
Some times I fight criminals with my fists and some times I use guns.
This town will be safe for people to live in when my job is done.
Yesterday I got in a shoot out and I killed Pruneface and Flattop.
Taking those two down means that a few of the crimes will stop.
Two months ago I brought down 88 Keys and The Blank.
Citizens are grateful for what I do, they all say thanks.
I have a wonderful family and that makes me blessed.
I have a boy named Junior and a wife named Tess.
I wear a 2-Way Wrist TV that allows me to communicate with other officers.
When I bring Big Boy to justice, the streets will be safe again, that's for sure.
(This poem is based on the comic strip that was created by Chester Gould.)
"LOVE POEM TO A GIRL FROM POMONA"
15 years ago I met a girl
from Pomona.
I was a man, she was a kid,
and the colors from those
intersection lights were
green, yellow and red.
my music from my ride played
loud and she tucked herself
in at night.
23 to 16, I placed all bets.
there were a few others
before her but none stuck
around.
I sit here, smoking and
drinking, listening to Gould.
the girl from Pomona won that
year and life hadn’t gotten
to her.
looking back, it was the
very thing that made me love
her, it was the very thing
that separated us, it is the
very thing that has reunited
us.
I gave the girl from Pomona
my greatest accomplishment:
my ability to choose to love.
I took a bow and stepped back
behind the curtain.
the girl from Pomona is all
grown up.
the girl from Pomona, with
two kids after a split from
the very thing that caused
our split, stands to enter
the world again.
here I sit, that young man
who risked his freedom to
love you.
you took some of my best love
and tears from me all those
years ago.
you returned them 8 months
ago.
35 to 28, I place my bets
again.
the lights at every
intersection are still there
but they no longer carry
their meaning.
we can GO after our love.
we can SLOW DOWN the
apprehension.
we can STOP our pain.
to the girl from Pomona,
we’ve gotten another green
light.
let’s take off, let’s hit the gas.
I promise, I’ll put more than
5 bucks in.
By: Chicano Eddie
JUMP
I
JUMP.
To find
AN ESCAPE
FROM the unpleasant
Situations that plague my life.
TORTUROUS CIRCUMSTANCES, unable to fight back
I T E L E P O R T to another
place, time, future, past,
ANYWHERE,
but here,
or
now.
1.28.2017©Deborah Burch
Fibonacci
*note...
Inspiration from "Jumper", by Stephen Gould
(book)
Protean nucleic processes
polemic yield
explosive diversification
punctuated equilibrium
Stephen J. Gould
Paleontological hypothesis
spawning sudden flora and fauna
competed against diametrically opposed diatribe
pairing diehard Religionists
versus Doubting Thomists
which Creationist advocates
threatened non-believers
with damnation and eternal punishment
spake brotherhood of God brethren thru tongue did wield.
Pompous empiricists
fire and brimstone sermons on the mount
excruciating punishment of soul would yield
claimants who refute intelligent design theorists
to explain away biological gaps
extant within evolutionary field
said Biblical creationists belief
pitted dogmatic atheistic crusaders
to fight tooth and nail
with scimitar and shield!
“REUNITED”
I remember a time in my life
where I was without food, a
roof and a woman. I had a car
though, and a job. the nights
carried the smoke from my
cigarettes and conversations
from many women came through
my phone. I was in life, at
not the lowest but deep
inside one of life’s frowns.
I made the best of what I had
and it kept the moon bright
on the nights I had no light
in my life. oh but don’t let
me be misunderstood, I
could’ve gone to a shelter,
I could’ve gone to a poor
unsuspecting female and
manipulated my way into her
home, sure, I could’ve even
called some family but where
would the reality of my
character have come from?
no, those nights of isolation
and reality, that was the
gift. I listened to Gould
play his piano through most
nights and together, we
shared the loneliest of the
loneliness. I will admit,
losing everything threw me
into a state I hadn’t known,
it was all off the odds that
were against me.
that was many years ago,
today, I find myself in the
same state of life. then,
I feared it.
today, as the same hands of
insanity reach out for me,
I fear nothing. after all,
every yesterday we have
is old territory. don’t feel
pity for me. that’s the last
thing you should feel. be
proud, I made it through Hell
blind. today I’ve returned
but now, the ground in which
I’ve walked asks where I’ve
been. I can only reply,
“Gould and I took a break but
we’re back. The conversations
will be short, I’ve got ****
to fight for.”
By: Chicano Eddie
7-28-2016
Mother Says I AM ---THE DAILY ENCOURAGING OF EMMIT GREEN
Everyday;
My mama says;
To me, this;
This is "who you are"
No matter what the world says;
This is what I am....
I am brave
I am strong
I am kind
I am smart
I am loved
And most of all...I am a child of God
No one can down me;
Misuse or talk bad about me;
This mean world with bad and uncaring people;
Everyday;
My mama says;
To me, this;
This is "who you are"
No matter what the world says;
This is what I am....
I am brave
I am strong
I am kind
I am smart
I am loved
And most of all...I am a child of God
I am brave
I am strong
I am kind
I am smart
I am loved
And most of all...I am a child of God
12/5/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018 ©
"Based on inspired words of his mother Natasha Gould"
If function is king, then there aren’t any Types,
but the living show us that’s simply not true.
The class tree is ordered according to forms
and not by the functions a critter can do.
So here’s a conundrum you might find odd:
a superclass known by the name Tetrapod.
Vertebrates these, the four-legged animals:
reptiles, amphibians, and also mammals.
Dinosaurs found here and therefore the birds;
The scope of this superclass: rather absurd.
A feature that all of these share in common:
Four pentadactyl limbs, from the top to the bottom.
Think humerus, radius/ulna, phalanges,
or femur, tibia/fibula, toesies.
All of these critters, extinct and alive
share a limb bone pattern of one, two, and five.
I know that you’re thinking I’m proving the point:
With all that evolving, we must Darwin anoint!
The fittest survive, “Change or Die!” what they say
So why does that one-two-five get in the way?
Are you telling me that to swim, run, or fly
that the one-two-five pattern is the best of all tries?
In bats, five fingers prominent, birds show just two,
But during development, all five are in view.
If you look at a horse or a pig, it’s a ruse!
But in the embryo, those bones will fuse.
No matter the adapting it takes to survive,
They always start out with the one, two, and five.
Three hundred sixty-five million years past:
that’s when the pentadactyl pattern was cast.
What in the world caused this weird isolation?
Such fixation defies Darwin’s explanation.
The limb is just one of the numerous features
that uniquely identify classes of creatures.
An a-functional body plan resisting change…
Even Gould veered from Darwin, finding this rather strange.
"ON THE AGENDA"
tonight
Gould
waits
for
the
Pacific
and
I.
tonight
hell
waits
for
us
all.
oh what fine music
awaits our descension.
By: Chicano Eddie
752017
I've never been a mean girl.
It's simply not my style.
But every fault I find in him,
Makes me want to smile.
I giggle when he flounders,
When he gets caught, in another lie
It makes my day so see him falter.
At first I wondered why.
When normally, this disgusts me,
It's sickening to my soul
This may portray me as a heartless B. . .
But there are a few things you should know.
If he wasn't such a tool,
And acknowledged his mistakes.
Instead of passing off the blame
Instead of being fake.
If I hadn't heard the awful things,
He says about us all at work.
Or talked, about my slain family.
If he wasn't such a jerk.
If he could go 5 minutes without lying.
Or trying to rope us in a con,
I wouldn't find glee in his failure
Deep down I know it's wrong.
I may feel some remorse for smiling
At all the hardships he must face.
And I would never have made it my mission
To put him in his place.
Erica Gould
8/29/2014
"the fighting act is the final act"
Buzz Lightyear under the elephant.
the bear on an air mattress.
Gould locked in a rectangular box.
the young man behind the old man.
what they try to kill.
those addicted to the crowd will
die in the crowd.
those addicted to the dollar will
accuse many of stealing.
keep typing.
time will pass and those
that hide behind their addiction
to attention, will fade into a box
full of Robin drops.
rising to the top is a choice.
love the question and it’s life
giving purpose.
I’ll never be in Wrigley field
but I can live dying in L.A.
By: Chicano Eddie
7.29.18
"DEVASTATION"
Glenn Gould wrote countless
masterpieces.
I listen daily.
imagine if he had married,
if he had had children,
if he had listened to every
piece of bull-**** given to
him by the one that would
claim she loved him.
imagine he had stopped
composing because he was
told he wasn't paying
attention to her feelings.
imagine he had stopped
composing because he wasn't
giving her what she needed.
imagine he had stopped
composing.
imagine he had stopped
composing.
imagine he had stopped
composing.
imagine he had stopped for love.
imagine all you'd like
but
even Lennon had limits.
By: Chicano Eddie
9232017