Best Quentin Poems
My soul understood Lynyrd Skynyrd
Like Ronnie I had monkeys to
Just simple boys chasing life’s joys
With our needles playing our blues
My soul understood Pink Floyd
For I have lived inside the wall
Comfortably numb and ignorantly dumb
Living my life forever tasting the call
My soul understood Nirvana
The White Horse has lived in my stall
I’ve tasted death at the edge of my breath
As my soul just nodded through it all
Like Creed I am my own Prison
No appeal on the docket today
What I learned from John Lennon
We all need to learn how to pray
Morrison took me to the roadhouse
Like Merle they locked me away
And I guess just like Creedence
I’ve seen rain on the sunny day
You know I do love Hank Jr.
Especially when he sings the blues
It seems so many of us just hop on the bus
Forever lost in the Addictions we choose
Sometimes I feel just like Kid Rock
I’m just sitting here in search of myself
I have great respect for Garth Brooks
For his family he put his career on the shelf
Johnny Cash sang of San Quentin
I heard the song in one of its cells
Locked up inside of that medieval prison
You feel like you have made it to hell
Like Jerry Garcia I fried in Berkley
Like Hendrix I dropped acid in my eyes
To this day when I hear Janice Joplin
I just want to break down and cry
The Eagles played the Hotel California
I have led the dance on that Prison yard
Guns & Roses sang of the Jungle
Prison is a world very cold and hard
These are a few of the songs and the makers
Ones that have shared my story and plight
When I die just play dust in the wind
As I ride the stairway to heaven that night
If my song is granted one purpose
And the music I’m allowed to choose
Let it be said that the song in my head
Was country rock with a touch of the blues
And let that song forever tell a story
A horrible story that ended so bright
For when Jesus Christ grants his mercy
Even the most blind can be led to the light
So Lord let my life be your lighthouse
Lord please guide my story as it’s told
And whatever you do Lord I beg of you
Help me stay worthy of the heart that I hold
Lonely
is the sugar.
Once worn to coat cookies
now just pinched and licked by fingers
In jar.
12.29.2014
Contest: A Quentin Christmas
Zealots are totally incapable of any emotion other than rage. It is an unalterable law that people who claim to care about the human race are utterly indifferent to the sufferings of individuals.
— Quentin Crisp
ZEALOTS
The raging machine, storms of zigzagging arrows, fueled by each word that bounces off the trampoline of their eardrums. A zealot sage, an oxymoronic knight, not a saint. Stained not with tears but billowing eyes and cheeks.
emotional wreck
concentrated on one theme
no deviation
The heave and the ho of heavy sacks. Teamwork in torrent. The zealot doesn’t stop to hear a prophet, except Simon. Simon will buzz in their ear about a diamond but the team has their eyes on the gold. With cold, strong hands, they sharpen their swords, meditating on the prize. They want to topsy-turvy, throw out the law, upturn the tables of dirty coins.
if one turned his head
a scene of perfect substance -
heals blind, deaf and dumb
Does the tyrant trump the zealot, or is power the point? Both explode. Not on their sides, you will be imprisoned or stomped out. Simple Simon was a zealot whose ears steared toward the Son of God.
Simon the Zealot
apostles known by their works
one’s tax collector
Zealots loose whilst hell’s hammer wills the fastening of cruel suffering. This innocent has the right approach to rid the world of tyrants though the chariots have not entered the course. The zealots would still be wielding their swords as the stone was kicked away in a powerful way.
Zealots have their way
the martyrs follow Christ’s way
Simon chose wisely
Dear depressed girlfriend
Thank you for your note
He's obviously the boyfriend of the year
So he's going to get my vote .
Your boyfriend is in prison
After he robbed the local shopping mall
but he'd love you to visit San Quentin
and do a strip dance on top of the wall .
His sister is only jealous
because she's been so long on the game
Ten cents a trick Tess from Tulsa
I'm sure you've heard the name .
He's got a mate named Oliver
He knows the artful dodger too
and I'm sure the honourable Mr Fagin
Would look after your kids for you .
I know mister Cowell's sister
Has been sending you advice
but I know she has played twister
with your boyfriend once or twice .
So listen to your agony uncle
To your boyfriend please be true
When he gets out in ten years time
He'll be coming back to you.
There once was a man named Quentin
Who rhymed with things that were lent, 'n'
Then once in a while
He'd rhyme with a smile
'N' put stuff he really hadn't meant in!
Tom's Cat Tom
by Joan Donnelly Ellis (intended as a picture story book for children)
Some cats are really ugly and others are really cute, like mine, Bart. Bart can be bad though. He is sometimes up to no good. One day he ate my dad's goldfish. Bart likes goldfish. They don't like him back.
Wanna know something funny? My friend, Tom Murphy has a Tom Cat that he named Tom after himself. Tom gets bored a lot and so does his lazy cat, Tom. He just lies on the couch all day. At least that is what I first thought., that the cat was lazy, you know. Then I started to observe him more closely. After a week or so I realized the feline just pretends to be sleeping but he really doesn't close his eyes all the way shut. I think he is not as lazy as he makes out to be. Often it seems that the cat Tom is engaged in serious contemplation. He might be planning some mischief. Yes, Tom has something up his sleeve I decided and as soon as he's left alone in the house BAM! He'll be off getting into trouble . Last time he was left alone the Murphy's and I believe Tom terrorized San Quentin, the Parrot. We found a mess of Quent's feathers in his cage and on the floor below. Not only that but whenever the cat Tom was near Quent would make frightening noises. I told Tom, my friend , not his cat, that we ought to get those fellows from Forensic Files to do an investigation. Tom didn't like the idea much. Said he didn't think ruffling a few feathers was a serious crime.
I glanced at Quent who was curled up on the window seat and I swear he had a "Nice Try" smirk on his face as he glared back at me . In response, I
walked to the kitchen, and lifted Quent's Temptation Treats from the counter.
He jumped off the window seat and hurried to the kitchen. As he gazed lovingly at me with his bright green eyes, I stepped on the peddle of the trash can. When the lid opened I dumped the treats in and closed the lid. Some kids are really ugly and others are really cute. Since I'm a bird lover, I don't give a hoot.
It was Clark Gable, who posed the question,
“Oh, Mr., Faulkner…do you write?”
Indeed, Mr. Gable, Faulkner wrote…
About that postage stamp of native soil
In many books and stories did his typewriter toil
regaling about that mythical place he called Yoknapatawpha County
somewhere in the rolling hills of north Mississippi
he penned a tale about Colonel John Sartoris
of Boon Hogganbeck and Lucius McCaslin
taking a trip to Memphis, Tennessee
in “Boss” Priest’s Wynton Flyer
they were “The Reivers”—footloose and fancy free
Yes, Mr. Gable, Faulkner wrote…
of Quentin Compson—“The Sound and the Fury”
the perils of the Bundren family—“As I Lay Dying”
Vardaman said, “My mother is a fish”
Indeed, Mr. Gable, “Mr. Bill” Faulkner did write
about Emily Grierson, her male admirers in “A Rose for Emily”
the trilogy of the Snopes family, such a literary tapestry
Oh, heavens, Mr. Gable, Mr. Faulkner did write
In every novel, every story, all about his native Mississippi
his works a marvelous contribution to America’s rich literary history
--Allen Baswell
© 02-25-22
Friendless
I noticed my address book,
So decided to take a look,
Starting at the beginning under A,
Everyone on this page has gone away,
Turning to the next page under B,
Totally blank no one here to see,
Must be someone under C to call,
No no one here to ring at all,
Perhaps more luck under D,
Ah Dan, no he's in prison he's not free,
Ok let's have a glance under E,
Don't know anyone here, someone's
Drawn a tree,
Might do better on next page under F,
Oh Fred at 88, nor he is tone deaf,
Let's see who's on the next, G page,
Gordon, last time I rang him, got in a rage,
Turn to letter H let's see who I see,
Hope and faith they've moved Tennessee,
Not giving up only at page under I,
Ivan, Ivan who, Ho yes he lives in a pig sty,
Quickly over to the next page J,
Vicar Father James, he'll make me pray,
Ok ok let's just go to page under K,
Ring Kev, unbelievable he died yesterday,
Not doing very well, up to page under L,
Lou better not ring him he's not been very well,
The page under M Is the next I come to,
Mother if I ring her the air would be blue,
I must know someone under the letter N,
one entry, Nettie, don't ring her again then,
Must be someone on page under O,
Someone's having a laugh, wrote H steptoe,
Page P next to peruse, fingers crossed,
Pete, it was his place I once dossed,
Q won't be anyone here that I know,
Quentin, he was the lad that didn't grow,
R, sure to find someone to ring under R,
Rob, he's the bloke that stole my car,
Beginning to worry, turn to page S,
Not one number, not one address,
Let's see what's under letter T,
Great check if your owed ppi for free,
This is sending me blue, what's under U,
Just my blinking ex, evil blinking sue,
Getting down now up to page V,
Violet, violet who, nothing to do with me,
Well this can't be true up to W,
Empty page nothing here to view,
No point looking in X Y Z,
Sod it I'm going to bloody bed.
In a world of make believe
Inside my T.V. screen
I was mesmerized by a show,
The likes I'd never seen.
Barnabas, Quentin and Angelique;
Inhabitants of Collinsport, Maine
Lived a life like no others.
To miss it caused me pain.
This tale of a heartbroken vampire
And the witch obssessed with he
Held me enthralled for years,
Their lives unfolding in my T.V.
Long before "Vampire Diaries",
Long before the movie "Twilight",
Barnabas Collins was the man
Who walked as a vampire by night.
It's been over forty years since
The Collins family came daily to call.
Of all the shows I saw in my youth
Dark Shadows was the best of them all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Francine Roberts 12/01/2012
for Michael Falotico's 'Rhyme Me an Old T.V. Show' contest
"Dark Shadows"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dark Shadows" ran from June 27, 1966 to April 2, 1971.
It aired Monday through Friday. A supernatural soap opera with a
vampire, a witch, a werewolf and so much more.
Johnny Depp is reprising the role of Barnabas Collins in a
movie version of "Dark Shadows" based on the series.
It is set to be released this spring. I will be in the audience
the first night.
"Stars"
I do not know how big they are,
But I can see them twinkle from afar.
Their shape to me is yet unknown,
Still I can see them where ever I go.
Way high up there in the night sky,
Farther than any bird could ever fly.
"How did they get so far away,?"or
"Will they fall down to earth someday?"
When I look through my window late at night,
I stare at those stars,so beautiful and bright.
One day I know there won't be any cars,
But when I look up there will always be stars
Quentin Alexander Sands
It is the third of June at San Quentin in 1955.
A death row inmate will soon no longer be alive.
She has been dubbed “Bloody Babs” by the local press.
Barbara Graham is a convicted murderess.
For killing widow Mabel Monohan, she will pay.
Barbara is sentenced to die in the gas chamber today.
Barbara’s young life experienced many a convolution.
She had been in and out of jails for petty crimes and prostitution.
Never experiencing a proper upbringing in a peaceable home;
between California and Nevada, Barbara would aimlessly roam.
With two other men, into Mrs. Monohan’s house she would go.
Reportedly, the victim’s skull was cracked as she was smothered with a pillow.
Graham was executed after a second stay.
“Good people are always so sure they’re right” was the last thing she would say.
Inspired by the 1958 film “I Want to Live”
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
Old Stackhouse Joe
Had a lazy eye
Sunday morning choirboy
He could sing like a lark
He had a stiletto
He sharpened all the time
Stuck a pig
And called it bloody wine
Poker night at Joe’s
Always a fight
Smoking day old
Cigarettes he’d bought one at a time
Spent some time in Quentin
Jailhouse tattoos
Scar across his cheek
From a razor in Duluth
Said she stick around
But cut him instead
She only did once
Cause now she is dead
Whiskey and wine is all that he drank
Never saw him sober
Sunday morning choirboy
He could sing like a lark
Wouldn’t want to cross him
Anytime after dark
One two three four five six seven
Not all children go to heaven
Right is right and bad is wrong
Jack fell down and broke his crown
One two three Four five six seven
School is out it's half past eleven
Jack shot off his gun
Staff and students had to run
One two three four five Six seven
Who took bullet aimed at Helen
Principle called police
Parents paid the judge bail fee
One two three four Five at sixty seven
Jack's in jail in old San Quentin
Bible verse spread out in hand
Regrets killing a preacher man
When bullies cry... You have to wonder why...
Not everyone has houses or lands, gold or silver, stocks or bonds, IRA’S or CD’S, Cars or cash, insurance policies, etc. But that does not mean we have nothing to leave behind when we depart this earth. The best things in life are still free, and there can be great qualities in our lives that are well worth the leaving. So why not make a ‘None-Material Possession Will’, and describe from A to Z what you wish to leave behind. i.e.,
TO AL, I LEAVE MY GOOD ATTITUDE
TO BETH, I LEAVE MY INNER BEAUTY
TO CAL, I LEAVE MY COURTEOUSNESS
TO DON, I LEAVE MY DECISIVENESS
TO EARL, I LEAVE MY ENERGY
TO FRANK, I LEAVE MY FAITHFULNESS
TO GWEN, I LEAVE MY GOODNESS
TO HARRY, I LEAVE MY HONESTY
TO IVAN, I LEAVE MY INTELLIGENCE
TO JAN, I LEAVE MY JOY
TO KEN, I LEAVE MY KINDNESS
TO LORI, I LEAVE MY LOVE
TO MARY, I LEAVE MY MERRINESS
TO NANCY, I LEAVE MY NICENESS
TO OLIVER, I LEAVE MY OBEDIENCE
TO PAM, I LEAVE MY PLEASANTNESS
TO QUENTIN, I LEAVE MY QUIETNESS
TO RON, I LEAVE MY READINESS
TO STACY, I LEAVE MY STABILITY
TO TOM, I LEAVE MY TIMELINESS
TO URSULA, I LEAVE MY UNSELFISHNESS
TO VINCENT, I LEAVE MY VIBRANCY
TO WENDY, I LEAVE MY WILLINGNESS
TO XAVIER, I LEAVE MY XENIA (Ze-ni-e [Greek = Hospitality] )
TO YOLANDA, I LEAVE MY YOUTHFULNESS
TO ZACK, I LEAVE MY ZEAL cj071507PoSp(Posted 3/23/20)
Certain directors, expecting to see
Their names on the nominee slate,
Might have been shocked, as the rest of us were,
‘Cause omissions are cause for debate.
Kathryn and Quentin and Argo’s guy, Ben,
Were snubbed or forgotten or worse;
Rumors were floating with people to blame
And reasons both strange and perverse.
Though all of their films got a “Best Picture” nod,
Perhaps all the voters believe
Directors don’t really contribute that much
Or at least less than those three perceive.
I know I’d feel slighted if it had been me,
But grousing out loud’s not allowed;
Still, to Quentin and Kathryn and Ben, I must say
I saw all of your films and was wowed!