Best Jogged Poems
Time marched ahead relentlessly,
While I was unaware.
I jogged around the corner and
Old age was waiting there.
I didn't want to meet her,
But had to be polite.
She said she'd like to stay with me,
Perhaps just over night.
I let her stay, " Oh, woe is me!"
She hasn't gone away.
She brought such heavy luggage that
I fear she's here to stay.
A satchel full of aches and pains,
A bag of moans and groans.
She is becoming so entrenched
I feel her in my bones.
She follows me around all day
And spoils my appetite.
If I escape to early bed,
She awakens me at night.
Take my advice dear younger friends,
Don't stop to tell her "Hi"
If you should catch a glimpse of her,
Just keep on jogging by.
This morning we jogged early
I was back in my flat by six-thirty
From my tenth floor view of the Charles River basin,
The morning was incandescently flushed by the peach-colored sun.
The transparent clouds seemed stylistically stained, artfully workshopped,
which offered a softened, Tiffany glass effect wholly worthy of worship.
I can’t stop to admire it. I’m jamming things into suitcases.
Cramming things into boxes, giving things away.
I had a second interview Monday afternoon, for Johns Hopkins med school. They put the question to me:
“The semester starts in 18 days - can you do that?”
“Yes,” I replied, and just like that, I'm a Blue Jay.
Of course, I had to withdraw from the masters program but Harvard gave me a full (95K) refund - I think they’re more excited about my med school admission than I am.
I’m not afraid of discordant notes.
They change the landscape.
Take us to new emotional places.
Any major work is going to have them.
.
.
A song for this:
Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini
It's Amazing by Jem
Forty three years of marriage and still you make my heart beat strong
I never wanted to be anything else but your wife and loving song
Together we walked, jogged and trotted but most of all we danced,
to the rhythm of our first hello. Every loving act was a show of love;
When we were young we danced between sleepless nights and drank
the brew of life as if it were a fox trot of maelstrom haze;
Then the kids left home and we found ourselves alone again,
Phonographic unused cylinders of time crooned again
with love songs from Edith Piaf;
You wrapped your arms around my waist and gave me a beginners taste
Life had been good to us but oh how we lived it in such haste...,
Then we got a second chance, and we did it just so
losing ourselves on the living room floor,
we danced like newly weds on their wedding day;
That was the last time we danced together without goodbyes,
today all I own is an old phonograph, and yesterday's slow sighs.
July 13, 2021
I woke up late,
I meant to be early.
I ran to my fate,
I dream of the pearly.
The great gate of Our Lord,
The garden of heaven…beyond.
I dressed my best,
Grant me, your grace,
I wanted the test.
Yet, I can not keep the pace.
Today is a gift,
“Thankful”, that which is given.
I walked and then jogged,
Legs get me there…,
I brushed the tangles from my hair,
Yet the world is… not fair.
The pastor was busy,
The singing just started…
I hug my friends,
I find my seat,
I raise my hands
and can barely speak.
The Lord is my Sheppard,
I shall…
Its time to tell the truth untold,
why do we have to fight?
must we shed blood?
ever wondered why able bodied men
go to war,and come back half,
or even dead,
the pity of war, the pity of war distilled
i was sworn in to handle the situation
am in the perfect position?
though courage was mine, and i had mystery
wisdom was mine, and i had mastery
days strolled,
weeks jogged,
months passed,
years flew,
finally it ended
yes!!! the war ended
oh no!!! i was attacked
i parried but i couldn't and i lost
when will this war end???
Now Let Us Sleep
FOOTPRINTS
Footprints are walked memories;
molded cerebral impressions
of traced tracks—telling
tinted stories of freedom’s journeys;
like running rivers between banks
leaving trailing residues of liberation.
Remembered footprints
tell tall towering tales
of those who’ve passed this way.
May the Most High
let mine tell tall tales
of the jubilee journey jogged
as I passed this way.
And may my marvelous ones walk
proudly in the depths of my footprints.
I've seen you move with fire
Your spirit all aglow
You sang and wrote poems all winter,
New life you did reenter.
Faith had found you
You were like morning dew.
The reservoir you jogged
The Hudson where you biked,
Those were your spot of healing
Your place of worship appealing.
faith had found you
You were like morning dew.
And then you disappeared
That devil's jealous heart,
Just kept coming after you
As life and death, you reviewed.
Faith had never left you
You were like morning dew.
So! if one's inner limp dims,
And no one seem to care,
Seek out your spot of healing
Your place of worship appealing.
*
Wandering the house I found an old scrapbook
A picture fell out and I sat down hooked
We were so young, so poor, and so in love
That we didn't even care if we had enough of
Money and things that most say we needed (but)
We’d make due or just plain concede it
But often the best times were cheap or free
Like a loan summer cabin where it snowed on a hummingbirds wings
Memories all came flooding through
It’s no secret that I’m in love with you
Jogged memories of simpler times and things
Like your gentle voice and touch that makes angels sing
And though those times seem long gone
I don't care about time moving on (cause)
I’m not a fan of all things new
And baby, I just want to grow old with you
Just want to grow old with you
I know your laughing cause we’re just 41
And I sound like we’re almost all done
I know we have lots more pictures to take
Of our life of love and even mistakes
Memories all came flooding through
It’s no secret that I’m in love with you
Jogged memories of simpler times and things
Like your gentle voice and touch that makes angels sing
And though those times seem long gone
I don't care about time moving on (cause)
I’m not a fan of all things new
And baby, I just want to grow old with you
Baby, please let me grow old with you.
He heard the car and came running,
Jumped and whirled in the air,
Barking his happiness!
Dad lifted her down in her yellow-flowered
Camisole and high heeled shoes.
The dog dropped,
His hind quarters hunched down,
Body sprung parallel to the ground,
Ears laid back, hackles raised.
He'll get used to you, Dad said,
Tapping him with his foot.
But he didn't. She was afraid.
Big black shepherd, watching stalking.
The dog lay there with the chain
Stretched out, eyes riveted
On the back door of the house.
She didn't like it. What if he gets loose
When you're not here?
I can't even go to the garden
Without his eyes on my back!
Dad put a piece of meat in her hand.
The black nose ever so slightly withdrew.
-Eat it, growled Dad, and he did
With a long slow tongue,
Looking up from under reproachful brows.
But it was spoiled.
Dad couldn't stand it that
The dog wouldn't mind.
He kicked it and it trailed after him,
But still froze when the woman came outside.
He just couldn't give it up.
They had to shoot the dog.
The yellow and brown and red leaves
Were falling and sticking together
On the path into the woods.
A light drizzle added to the metallic shine.
They walked along the slippery surface,
The two of them,
With the rifle and the spade.
The dog jogged on ahead,
Looking back over his shoulder,
Smiling at the routine he is familiar with.
It only takes a minute
Once you reach the back fence.
You have to do it fast if you're going to.
You can talk out-loud afterward,
Explaining while you dig him in.
That way he doesn't have to see it.
The ground is not yet frozen.
Dad smooths it over and already
Leaves begin to drift across the bare soil.
Deliberately, one by one,
He places his feet on the returning path,
Looking up through the sketches
Of black tree limbs against the sky.
He feels stiff and sore.
Leaning the gun against the grain bin,
He pulls down a bottle
From the low rafter overhead.
A couple of swigs before he goes inside.
This is not the story they told me.
The dog's name was Rex.
Dad pointed to an old photograph
In the box of old photographs.
-Good ol' Rex, he said.
Lost in the Translation
“Donnez-moi un verre de vin”
My accent seemed strange at the Paris café
They brought me an entire carafe of wine
And I drank it all to my escort’s dismay
When I asked, “Ou est la salle de bain?”
Le confused garcon led me to the alleyway
“Où sont les toilettes?” I tried again
“C'est à l'hôtel,” was all he could say
Groaning, “Sacré bleu, PARDON MY FRENCH!”
I spun and jogged miles to my hotel in haste
Two thousand for airfare, far more for a tutor
Such an investment seems quite a “waste”
When all you want is to relieve yourself
And still cannot locate the proper place
*Assigned phrase for Deborah’s contest: PARDON MY FRENCH
From Melbourne to Sydney is a bloody long drive,
and my ambition’s to get there alive,
that means I must stop and then drift off to sleep,
or I could end up in a bloody great heap.
The Newell is so busy and the headlights ahead,
keep coming and searing into me head,
so at Wagga I pulled into a curb on a street …
my head went down and up came me feet.
Me eyes started closing; me thoughts became blank …
just as the last of my mulling had sank,
there’s a tap on the window. I opened me eyes,
it’s a bloke who is jogging … I realize.
“What time is it mate?” and I answered quite dirty
after checking me watch, “It’s seven thirty.”
Then he jogged away, and when nearly asleep,
there’s one more tap and another damn ‘creep.’
And this buggers the same “What time is it mate?”
Before saying, “Nick off!” I said “Quarter to eight,”
so when he trotted off, in the sand there’s a line,
I picked up some paper and I wrote a sign.
‘I don’t know what time it is’ … I wrote with a pen,
and stuck it on the window, but once again
there’s a tap on me window, and was I irate,
when this bugger grinned, “Its eight o’clock mate.”
I felt happy as a lark,
I watched an aardvark;
As I sat in a giant arc.
Next, I waved hi to Mark,
As he jogged in the park.
He wanted to catch Clarke.
Then I noticed a dog bark,
That resembled a gray shark;
Lastly, had to run; it got dark.
Alexis Y.
03/11/2022
JOY and JINKS
Jolly jocund jubilant Jack Frost wearing thick jacket
joyfully jumped sharp on snow losing jade-locket
Jolted backward by snowstorm yet looked jovial.
Jeered on a jetty jackal rushing from jungle, not trivial.
Junior Jack in jean- jersey with sister Jill Joined to skate.
Jim Jogged, carrying jars of jam, jelly, jaggery in basket.
Jingle bells ringing, Jack jigging, drinking juice from jug.
Joe, friend of Jack drove jerking jeep, met Jack, gave hug.
John, a Joker cum juggler catching and throwing snowballs
Jupiter-Juno both jocose junketing under heavy snowfall.
Jewel thief Jacob fell on snow, picked the lost jade-stone.
Javelins- throw on snowy field managed by Jacqueline alone.
12/17/20
Second Place
Alliteration Contest by Eve Roper
Second Place
Podium Placing Promise (6) Contest by Brian Strand.
Like a spell with no remedy
The strong movement of the wind
Accosted by volcanic ceaseless water
Stuck and struck endlessly
It held grip to all that ever
Existed in New Orleans
It reminded me of the
Beginning when the earth was
Without form with void and
Darkness dancing upon
The face of the deep
Katrina did jogged my memory
Fifty of thousands were
Hurriedly caned by Katrina
Katrina the Armageddon lover of Rita
The pump ‘pumpeth’ not the water
The levels refused to be increased
Expect for levels and water
Of calamity and catastrophe
The bush judge gave out a
Blank cheque of cut in social spending
All to no one but Katrina
They refuse to manage the emergency
Came knocking the chilly insurgency
Thousands died like fowls
By the avarice of the Bush fowl
Whose feckless sprinkles only foul
As innocent people were fouled
In a preventable surge of Katrina
The National Guards meant to save lives
Had been forcefully ‘hurricaned’ to Iraq
In a ‘Kill for Oil’war of the fiendish
As they “Kill for Oil” in Far East
Katrina hurriedly caned our
Kinsmen in Arizona
As the mad drive for profit and surplus
Pervades the system everywhere
It hovers on us the more
That the structure places us nowhere
Unless we are determined to change it now.
We will never get to somewhere
Where we can quench our thirst for hungers
Two years ago I left New York,
to find my luck somewhere else,
and in Waterbury, Connecticut I settled in a ranch-house,
which overlooked middle-class homes
groping on verdant slopes;
the night stars may have shined
a little brighter than in Manhattan,
without a trace of pollution or smog,
but the harsh winters made me dream again
of living in the warm streets of wonderful New York!
As I step out of my car into Fifth Avenue, by the entrance,
old acquaintances welcome the sweet return of a New Yorker;
and unto Columbus Circle I run toward Central Park:
it used to be my park, and my dog loved it by barking lauder,
and over little bridges I jogged as he chased me fervently;
there was no day in which I felt lonely...to want to escape from this city!
Here all neighbors met and chatted with a kind of stylish accent...
that all tourists love and find it extremely attractive!
When I look up...there the Empire State Building
is one of the wonders of my glamorous city that never disappoints anyone;
even night can't put it to sleep with its gloom;
and holidays always decorate it with spectacular lights:
like the yellow-bright daffodils that begin to bloom...
as happy faces greet the sweet return of a New Yorker...
driving on the Brooklyn Bridge bound for the New Jersey shore!
O greatest city, let me begin to write an ode that your people will sing!
Other cities are certainly beautiful and captivating as this one,
but none of them can spark inside that something so special...
the breath-taking view of the sky-scrapes in the August' moonlight,
the gracious waves of the East River and the ships that glide up and down the harbor;
and in this spot I met my sweet-heart with eyes like a Virginia sky, and hair
so soft and as red as the cheeks of a stuttering, drunken man!
Lady of a mysterious night, you vanished as the summer'
dawn erupted from the ocean's deep to forever preserve your delicate beauty!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci