Best Tows Poems
Zipping through New Hampshire’s White Mountains
Suspended by a rope through trees
Autumn colors accompany a brisk breeze
Turning your face bright, scarlet red
Don’t look down, just peer ahead
Live joyfully in each challenging activity
“What,” you say, “no engine?”
Sail planes ride wind currents
Regular airplane tows you up
Then you are cut free
To rely on navigational skills
Parasail over turquoise sea
Images below evoke wonder
Tiger Shark approaches bathers
No distress signal sent
Rev the engine
Noisy jet skis
Bound over waves
Bucket list
Now empty
Memories!
*Written October 13, 2014
ufos fly lake erie
blowing air force theory
each tows a sign
flashing this line
we stole a cow from oleary.
Blackberries start as white dots in a sea of thorns
The flower will fade, and a green berry will join
Protected, it will grow and be pink
Safe from even a massacring mink
Larger, it will swell until it is red
No enemy can lay down their head
Darker and darker until it is black
The berries are ready for an attack
Sour, but delectable
The thorns are detectable
But what about the thornless blackberry bush?
Poor girl, she starts off white
Like the others that night
She grows into a misshapen berry
Unlike the others (who are), lucky? Very.
She stays as the others grow
Poor berry, behind she tows
The rest are protected by thorns of steel
But this poor one just needs a deal
From green to pink to red to black
The other blackberry is held far back
If only she could get some thorns
To protect her from the world's horns
The neglected female, without protection
Her parents have given her no love and affection
The other ones shall grow strong
Their parents are never gone
-September of 2020
I know there is a God
Because He is the only one who
Counts the tears my soul cries
When my body and mind are numb
From the barbs of enemies and swords of friends.
I know there is a God
Because when I finally break the surface
Of my pain, gasping for understanding
To breathe humanity back into my being,
He throws me a lifeline and tows me to a place without judgment.
I know there is a God
Because when the elevator shoots to the top floor,
Butterflies churning, blood turned to bubbling adrenaline
He meets me in the stars, and never pushes the down button.
I know there is a God
Because I have faced the darkness of night that doesn't promise a sunrise in the morning,
And I have lost pieces of me to that eternal blackness
But remained whole, and felt the assurance that there was yet a torch burning on the other side that I would see again.
I know there is a God
Because undeserving of even the slightest reward for my last-place finish in the human race, He presented to me the most precious of trophies. I hugged my trophy close, and vowed to coach her to a better finish . . . Eyes on the prize . . . Not running, but stopping to notice every step, to relate to every face, to find and fill needs like potholes in the track. But most of all, to show people she knows there is a God.
Let me ride upon the crest of an aquatic wave, to spin and
Twist within the rippling tides, of the water spheres deepest
Ocean, allow this land creature to become as one, a liquid
Creature of complete fluidity, flowing with the currents under
Tows beneath the Mediterranean sun!
Liquefaction’s child of heaven’s tears, collecting in the ionosphere,
The shards of shattered meteorites, melting amongst the heated
Entry point of the earth burning atmosphere!
I’m just a day dreaming earth being, an inspirational beach
Comber of alternate thought, set adrift within the sails
Of human imagination, this illumined castaway of the
Enlightened, wishing to be part of something larger
Than the total some of my own physical make-up!
Let me be the thundering storm ushering the lightening
Flash to rock the timeless shore, beyond the infinite
Seas of reality, the sounding clash of the everlasting
Light echoing amongst the heavens vast divides,
Nay I’m just a humble mortal, inspired by the powers
Of beauty, a poet captured within the moment of
The rocking swell of a higher master’s masterpiece
Of utter perfection!
Let the rolling rock of the ages slide downwards
From the rocky mountain tops high, ever moving,
Smoothing its sharpened edge until it is perfectly
Rounded at its journey’s end, no moss shall I
Gather, for the rambler of humanities soul’s remains
Always In constant motions wake, this pondering
Drifter of life itself, wandering why I exist!
Let me be reflections after shock shooting at super
Sonic speed, slamming against an orbiting giant of
The universal realm, bouncing in a planetary ricochet,
Hell bound to return from mine own origin point of
Divine intervention, for it is here on earth I’m entrapped!
Let me feel the winds breathe of total freedom against
My bare exposed flesh, to become a spirit being set adrift,
An elemental child without form or shape, just a whispering
Echo blowing upon the breeze of the timeless air.
Oh I’m a spiritual foundling, seeking the meaning of my own
Existence, a motion of emotion, clinging to the mental framed
Shell to which I’ve been born, but the world is for the inspired
So here I’ve found my small niche in this great big universe,
A writer, a dreamer, and the poet bard of my own inner
Heart!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
.
What a grate dey it is
Sonny whether and awl
Let's wring in Spring Brake
Thyme for fun, half a bawl.
Cum on, let's get aweigh
and lei on the beech
reed books by the serf
sea and bee scene.
Wheel watch waives bye the peer
Whet hour feat and hour tows
Ewe just mite meat Mr. Write
Theirs a chants, who nose?
"THE BUTTERFLY CATCHER."
Chicano face.
California.
closer to death.
he just pulled up to a house where the car he's about to tow sits.
he tows a lot of cars,
talks to people every day.
he's loaded his truck.
"goodbye,"
he says to the member.
a woman on the grass with her daughter.
"see you again soon."
he walks to his truck and is stopped by the woman's 5 year old daughter.
she's wearing a pink summer outfit, barefoot and her hair is flying in the wind.
she smiles.
she shows him her butterfly catcher and says,
"I catch a lot of butterflies with my net."
he asks her to catch him one and he'll be back to get it.
the little girl smiles.
she blows a kiss three times and the mother laughs.
she skips back to the grass.
before he could enter his truck she yells for him.
"hey !"
he turns and walks toward her.
she's holding the tiniest flower he's ever seen.
just picked,
she's given it to him.
his Chicano face smiles,
his heart of stone softens and he says,
"I love it. thank you."
he stood towering over her at six-four but she walked away taller.
her mother laughs again and says to the little girl,
"you're so funny."
after today,
he'll go home in his thirteen year old car with expired tags,
to his apartment house where the shades are drawn and the only light that hits,
touches his typewriters.
he'll light his cigarette,
pour his drink and sit with the flower courtesy of the little girl and her heart full of love.
in a world where innocence dies and the thumbtack faces prevail,
the butterfly catcher gives her love.
this is a love with no wounds to a man living with many.
as Bach plays in the background,
he sits and smiles.
earlier he had his symphony and her name was Emma.
by: Chicano Eddie
With bent torso, fenced horse Corso,
Tows corpulent gent Morse into a Kent forest.
This portly source torments tense Corso to such a contentious extent
That he sends them off course with vehement force to show his discontent.
“Whoa”, vents the incensed Morse
With voice tense and hoarse from onerous discourse.
“Endorse a gentle course,
And dissent from one so dense and coarse.”
With sore torso resentment, Corso forewent his horse-sense and sent
Enormous Morse into a torrential watercourse from Trent.
“You senseless, offensive, violent horse,”
Chorused the tortured, drenched Morse.
Yet, Morse lamented and swore to descent his portly content,
As soon as Corso implements his chores back in Kent.
And to mend his sores
From his hell-bent horse,
Reinvented Morse reinforced his orders
By tensing the cords toward extensive fence borders.
With a consenting snort for repented gent Morse,
The contented horse, relented pretenses and wended a short decent course.
For Sheri's couplet contest
I used to make up stories for children
none are left.
Sing babes in arms lullaby's
and goodnight.
Remembering beds of painted flowers
past and new.
Stories for children rhymed for a time
they are gone.
Memories of lovely petals alive
in my mind.
Even missile tows and missile launchings
to the sea.
Teachers of learning look for Spot a lot
Spot ran off.
Told of comets, moon beams and dreams
of the stars.
New clear clouds give brilliant laser
dark shadows.
New clear waist, leaves us thimble lean
with no fat.
Sharing no hair, no pere, no air,
pole to pole.
MAC AND CHEESE
Macaroni is Italian
And pasta is another name
With flavor garnished with a sauce
A dish that we can all acclaim
Cheese is kin to everything
As olives, bread and tasty wine
Even blue cheese tows the line
But if you can , I beg you , please
Do not serve me mac and cheese
Quasi Velveeta and processed as well
Butter, milk and other ilk
all mixed together, goo from hell
This combo doesn’t ring a bell
Yellow yellow how I bellow
Throw some green in for a change
So this staid food won’t be deranged
Ralph Sergi©
posted--no swimming, strong under tows
no guard on duty
what kind of life is that, no swimming
it’s my life and I don’t need a guard
I’m taking the sign down
He spotted a another sign, ‘no boating’
He had his boat and launched it.
Still another sign was noted ‘no alcohol’
He opened a six pack.
Would you believe another sign existed, ‘no fishing’
He consumed the beer while he was fishing.
Caught a tuna and hoisted it into the boat
brought it back to shore and into his truck
other tuna’s saw what took place
and were angry over their loss
they left a sign on the beach
‘drunken man named Charlie took a tuna’
the fish market learned of this situation
after they had just bought his tuna
which was not of good quality. They
notified other markets to be on the lookout
next week Charlie came back to fish
out in the boat he saw water filling his boat
there were holes at the bottom
the other tuna’s alerted swordfish of the capture
they pierced the boat to sink
frantically he waved for help
people on shore called the police
once onshore he was read his rights
for breaking the rules while under the influence
at court the judge spoke
‘sorry Charlie only the best tuna becomes Starkist”
‘you drank while in a boat fishing’ ‘you violated
the postings disrupted a family of tuna’
‘how do you plea’
well I don’t want to explain to the court how I pee
but if I can go to the back room I will tell you
the courtroom howled
‘order in the court, this man is disorderly’
the verdict came down
Charles was given a one month sentence
for violations of rules of fish and game
intoxicated on public soil
destroying public property
and operating a boat in a restricted area
Charlie sat in his cell and saw a sign posted
smoking permitted only with a guard
there was a guard on duty who said
“only nice fishermen get to have a camel”
he then received his lunch on a tray,
tuna fish sandwiches!!
and a note ‘sorry Charlie only the best
inmates get Starkist'
Feelings of despair dredged from the murky dephths of my past
Hoisted through my corroded conscience's porthole
Reconnoitering barge of restitution pushes despondent thoughts through my inner being
Then tows the shame and guilt of my depraved condition to mind's hatch
The murky dross of yesterday's sins seeps deep into my addled psche
The residual guilt oppresses my soul
The brackish bilge of cankerous jealousies trolls through my grieving spirit
My trembling hands grasp the anchor of remorse but slip into the deeper moor of penance
Earlier missteps have my struggling feet sinking ever deeper in the quicksand of hopelessness
The smokestack spews nautious fumes from the froward deeds of my virile youth
My shaky rudder teeters as the raw sewage of past debauchery overwhelms my senses
Sailing my sinking yacht to the edge of sanity and rational existence
Carried along by the unsettling currents of inconstancy and vacillation
Docking in the harbor of reclamation and recompense
running through the fields
feeling the wind in my face
blowing on my ahir
feeling the ticklish grass
or th cold dirt underneath
running through the rain
feeling the rain smashing on my face
all wet becuase i have no protection
i touched my face and there it was
another source of life
i i looked at tows
which was covered with
squishy slooshy mud
i started dancing with them
feeling everything around me
not wanting it to stray
i have lung cancer
thats why im out ehre today
feeling everything because its my last day
i have met two reasns to live
the wind and the rain
blowing and smashing on my face
free breeze,
free mind,
free heart,
and free boldness,
all sail along the same projection as the world pins
them tighter together
We are red and sad,
as time rapidly tows by
And we notice that all we have is,
fees to pay,
weird thoughts,
health to compete with,
and rods to walk on,
till they blend
©kingfemi Oloidi
Inspired by Ryan Jackson
Sea of Chaos
Salt the fish
Salt the sea
Sea pea green
Sea like moss
Moss takes over
Moss ground cover
Cover your butt
Cover mine
Mine big diamonds
Mine huge hearts
Hearts of passion
Hearts on fire
Fire the boss
Fire up taters
Taters with eyes
Taters and corn
Corn so sweet
Corn is yellow
Yellow hot sun
Yellow is fun
Fun is gentle
Fun is wild
Wild salmon
Wild wind
Wind whips
Wind torque
Torque of waves
Torque of dancers
Dancers on tows
Dancers thin legs
Legs of table
Legs of leisure
Leisure on Sunday
Leisure for rich
Rich in calories
Rich relative
Relative humidity
Relative comfort
Comfort of company
Comfort of life
Life lived right
Life in pain
Pain of torrent
Pain from sharks
Shark fin soup
Sharks in chaos
Chaos of catch
Chaos is play
Play
Catch ~
8/9/2017