Best Infrequently Poems

And yet the Sun did rise again to warm a broken scene
It peered through ruined window frames where coloured glass had been
Inside, beneath a vanquished roof, before an alter, smashed
She waits in grubby gown and veil in want of dreams un-dashed

Dust that swirls upon a...

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To the tune of "Itsy Bitsy, Teenie Weenie, Yellow, Polka-Dot Bikini"
Dedicated to Nancy Pelosi

Chorus:
She has an itsy bitsy
Teenie weenie
Brain inside her little beanie
And she uses it infrequently

An itsy, bitsy
Teenie weenie brain
We get the heebie jeebies
Whenever Nancy's in our company

Two, three, four 
Don’t stick around, head...

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Dedication to an Anonymous Poet



Brilliant, so very loving and
supportive as can any be!
Humble yet attacked and avoided?
As he knows too much classical poetry?

Yet, he's the captain of his own
poetic stars and ship!
Not here climbing the popularity tree.
Nor in contests will you find him.
No, most infrequently.

A...

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I am
a period.  When you see me it means
a full stop.      A break for
the reader.
    The end of the sentence.

I end your story.    Sometimes not soon
  enough.
    ...

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A glistening cobweb, on an old timber gate

Rainbows reside in each drop of morns dew.

Thin strands of white mist in the sun dissipate 

A scurrying mouse, weaving through the fescue.

  

Black and white offspring of a paradise duck

Fronds of a fern beckon new life...

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A scarlet tanager sits primly on the rail
Of the new fence erected near the meadow,
He eyes me stroll as I take in every detail
The path to the woodland is rather narrow,

Infrequently used, it is rapidly overgrowing
I am brushing against the yellow yarrow,
As hottest of summer...

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Cold shower today - (early afternoon)
September eighth two thousand
and nineteen more challenging than June
dog days of summer test tolerance
to feel alive and bark at the moon

hypothetically imagining myself
alone in the (suburban) wilderness
fabricating, envisioning crossing pontoon
bridge while humming nonsense tune.

Jolt to body electric induces zing
unlike missus...

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Bartholomew Barton; his friends called him Barty
Eighteen years old but no birthday party
Slumped in the mud, a gunshot to the shoulder 
But unlike his comrades at least he’d get older

Tyrannical forces sought world domination
And Barty had marched with his mates for his nation
They gave him...

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I do not hear you with my brain
which cannot kick in
unless my heart jumpstarts her
and my heart is not hearing you

Brain does not comprehend until the soul yells “yes”
this happens infrequently.
there is no rhyme or method to it.
it is not a planned event.

I can read...

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There is a small group of poets I come across sometimes
who write in a very lucid and vividly concrete style which totally enchants
me because, unlike myself, they seem to do it effortlessly. They also
use images that are so unique, I can barely manage to think...

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from "To My Wife":
So love by love we come at last,
As through the exclusions of a rhyme,
Or the exactions of a past,
To the simplicity of time,

The antiquity of grace, where yet
We live in terror and delight
With love as quiet as regret
And love like anger in...

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A solitary man was he 
who shunned responsibility 
and crawled back to his empty shell, 
he thought himself alive and well. 
He spurned an opportunity 
for love in perpetuity, 
instead his nervousness took hold, 
he lost the yearning to be bold. 

As weeks went by...

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She waded through the dreams as she drank her coffee.
Always speaking of the past and her lost memories.
She was fine as frog hair and fleetingly thought of a time when it mattered.
Her old man had died of a broken heart in one of those.
She loved...

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A donkey carried Mary and her unborn child to Bethlehem 
Joseph sturdily led the way on foot it has been penned 
The donkey proved a faithful friend to Joseph and Mary
It got them to where they had to be on time and safely
The Democratic Party’s...

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A warm day
Escaping the heat and noise of the City
We went upcountry 
Crowded car 
Loud radio 
Joyous noise
Open conversation
Following a long line of other cars
On a narrow highway
We, and like minded strangers
Travelling in an impromptu caravan.

Parked in a gravel lot
Slate blue stones crunching under our...

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