Best Wrinkling Poems

Lessons of Autumn

Summaries of schooling
   — lessons upon lessons guiding
Thoughts in class after class…as bells ring…
Volumes to consider about ways of interpreting…
As the...

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As a child, I mistakenly believed that older people chose to have stiff backs, wrinkles on their faces, and veins like small, fat snakes on...

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EXCHANGING DREAMS




two old men
with retirement’s eyes
exchange dreams
on a bench,
growing tendrils of old age…
as night becomes dim

they recline
like curled sleeves wrinkling,
memories
recycled
on phonograph's needling tunes
crossing young regions


poetic...

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Sometimes at evening when the sun goes down
I light a little candle all ready for love
I am older than Luther, soul of soul unbound
I bridge...

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a white mist 
begins engulfing 
every breath 
eyes clouding 
deep inside 
the wrinkling sea
within begins
to crawl

fluttering waves
caresses softly
touching walls 
butterfly kissing
deeply speaking 
inwardly emotions 
tenderly...

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Today one more page is shorn off from the book of my life.
On this day of humble rejoicing, my heart brims with gratitude,
For I am...

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All joy had fled these pinched, wintry alleys.
The sun had slouched away
to die somewhere alone,
like a poisoned cat.
Across the steep valley,
Chestnut trees stood stoic and...

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Fiddlely Fee
Four men at sea
Floundering outside the bay
Fairily Fun 
Feasting on sun
Feeling the heat of its rays

Fodiddly doo
Funny smelling goo
Fixed to the bottom of their...

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So I wrote again. This took longer than it should have. Only fair to warn you, this is a long one.

SHANGRI-LA

Prologue

The village gates stood, like...

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I take a four-fold spin
through Bill Plotkin's wheel
of bilateral identities,
iconic developmental faces,
ironic personalities.


FIRST comes Eastern-born
dawn of human infancy,
Innocent Sage infants
so WiseElder
in our LeftBrain emergent
wrinkling unfolding...

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.   …..      …    … .   .


restless thoughts  find her half-awake
covering  pain...

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Golda and Goofus.

or how a young Baer lost his luncheon and found that man need not live by bread alone.
     ...

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The years increased and agéd now—between
first birth and the burnt embers of my dotage—
I yearned and pined for a God-like machine
with which to vitalize my...

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ABSENCE MAKES...

I can see your face when you're not here,
those sparkling eyes that always cheer,
the wrinkling nose that is really you,
the welcomong lips to do...

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APROPOS THE REFUGEE...

There is nothing left here
for death to claim; even hunger
has abandoned the swollen bellies
and parched skin of the walking dead:
eyes of gigantic pupils...

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