Best Lugged Poems

JOE WHITE

Back in 1880 you will find, Joe White he was about.
The Brumby runner master mind. Of this I'll leave no doubt.
He took from Mugan station, 600 Brumbies yes my friend.
Had the best riders of the nation, on which he could depend.
From Mungindi to Sydney...

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Fish are named
Lazarus and Carl Jung 
they swim in the library, art studio,
that spare room 
where I write, paint.
Their eyes are the size 
of their stomachs.
They mouth dreams
in silence behind glass.

I stare back, envious
of graceful slow motion angel gills
immersed in a tank of tears
gathered from...

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The draw of the tide...
tugs away inside...
remembered rekindled emotion...
lived on the water ...
remember i ought...
Portugese, on the ocean..

cabin boy ..
on a 3 masted schooner...
we lived on salted pork...
the maggots they walked...
red meat went rotten the sooner..

In Timor it's said ..
we'd get fresh bread...
more chillies, beer...

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In the avalanche, I lost track of my guiding light.
I fled my fireside. I had to evacuate my homestead. 
Driven far astray by frenetic frozen fright,
I was just a cowardly racing rescuing airhead.

The wounded wooden face of my brother
lugged away by paramedics in a wheelchair.
My...

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Once upon a time there was a pug who's name was Doug.
He wore uggs, and played with slugs.
Doug looked like a bug.
Also doug has a favorite rug.
The pug always dug and sat in a mug.
Then doug took a bath in the tub.
Doug has a friend...

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It was in the early days of our lives
We met
She was so beautiful 
My eyes could not stop admiring
My heart kept racing 
Every time it sensed
her good-looking approaching
But we were too young 
To give full meaning 
To the love language

Years passed
Time kept flying
We lost contact...

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by Carolyn V. Crawford AKA Rachel Dunkerque

Evalina, Evalina,
Won't you come on and shout!
You didn't come up to Heaven
To sit down and pout.

AH KIN POUT EF AH WANNA, LAWD
AH'M TOO TIRED TO SHOUT.
BEEN A LONG TIME GITTIN' HEANH
AH'M JES TOO TIRED TO SHOUT.

But you ought to...

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Back in 1880 you will find, Joe White he was about.
The brumby runner master mind. Of this I'll leave no doubt.
He took from Mugan station, 600 brumbies yes my friend.
Had the best riders of the nation, on which he could depend.
From Mungindi to Sydney town,...

Continue reading...

1	A plume of dirt and grime envelops sky;
		The hellish slug of gas does creep along.
		It casts an orb three hundred stories high
		Over the Sun and ends his morning song.
		The birds and trees now stand a silent throng,
		Before this rumbling mass with lightning veins,
		Announcing from its...

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In Junior High, I decided to try
to play an instrument

I joined the band, French horn in hand
determined to make music

I lugged my horn, ready to mourn
for myself, as I walked home

Although I practiced, my butt, this horn kicked
I could never play a song

The noise I...

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Sonny sat on the floor 
in a low lit corner of the bedroom
he hugged his trumpet
as a young man they had had great times   
he reminisced of his love for his horn 

He was unable to play it well now
not since his stroke...

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Villanelle : Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate

Who dares to doubt must he questions address Fate
Let tears on High Holy Mass spill down the Seine
Would one propose to the Lord what's not innate

Is the Lord's mise en scène an act desperate
A dire...

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What is a flea market? I asked, unsure.
I found all kinds of things not found in the mall.
Antiques that brought memories back
Things I have never seen anywhere else
Things I knew I would never see or find anywhere else again
Home made things from creative people
Shiny things,...

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Metamorphosis: a word for butterflies,
Said the science textbook in school,
Positive transformations connoted her young soul.
Age brought in a new realisation,
Life, a one-way road with two destinies,
The darker one a metamorphosis too.

The endlessly bleak days,
Dwindling success,
Slipping confidence,
Broken dreams,
The road to change now a narrow old bridge,
Fragile...

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As summer withered to its end
I thought of Maggie as a friend
But when pale dew weighed down the grass
Young Maggie bloomed from spritely lass:
She burst to woman, overnight,
Bright smile, all curves, a pleasant sight—

We blushed and gazed through early fall,
Still young enough for touch football;
We...

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