Best Stowing Poems

Apples ripen pink, hotly blushing,
though the ardent yellow sun grows faint;
blackbirds sucking soft honeyed sweetness.
like babies at breast, show no restraint.

Mellow ripeness splays rich-toned color;
the...

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Those walls of my captured annals falling
By steel leviathans devouring my solitude
Capped blasts dropping the once proud structure
No longer is a mans home his palace

Histories...

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Red Beard laughed at this lad
Stumbled on the wrong ship he had

Stowing away on a pirate vessel 
Turned himself in not even a wrestle

Stout young...

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Long time ago in the old wild west
A hunter raised his gun, he was a 
Round up cowboy, and shooting 
Was his fun

He saw a...

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Are the Angel's feathers double dipped,
quills of gold but bloody tipped...
is wrath upon the many unknowing,
going,showing unhealthy stowing...
ungracious of the promised precious,
only looking for their...

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The rains have lasted all the spring.
We’re longing for some sun.
With advent of the end of school
We look to June for fun.

The kids have found...

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A thing possessed by power desires exert 
turns into an object inanimate and inert.
A life untainted and vibrant if captured 
by the bloodstained clutch of...

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Between the hidden and the knowing
dost not the heart lead
upon heights of silent stowing
to once again reveal his creed 

As streaming clouds run westward 
and...

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A Hint at What Is Beautiful : 
Lovely is the 'bless your heart' 
Wrapped with appreciation, 
Offered to peace inclined individuals 
Who make a special...

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The undertaker anticipates a better day
His plans include some needed lawnmowing,
He winds up two ne'er-do-wells stowing
Without resources their expenses to pay
The mere cost for a...

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an explorer--trudging through the here and now
picking up what works and stowing it in my knapsack
tossing away the discrepancies of what doesn't

a coward--wondering about what...

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Chilling to me is the cool misty rain.
Filling fuel on the fire to warm me again,
Willing my thoughts on the now to remain,
Stilling all those...

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What is behind ?

So many who wear masks, behind which to hide ?
So many who wear a veneer, upon which to ride ?
So many who...

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All elements laugh as I cast a moan
While grieving for longings I've never known
The mantle of the earth shrugs at my pride
While isotopes titter, slow...

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Grandpa Francesco Proia,
from Caserta, Italia,
a clever stowaway 
in the bowels of the ship
bringing him to Ellis Island,
Feb. 4, 1905.
Gruff ways,
often snarling a guttural “Huh,”
a lack...

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