Buxom Barbara burned her bra
never again lift and separate
or cross your heart to contemplate
she likes to feel her bosom counts
when flouncing down the boulevard
Barb now snags more bounce to the ounce
abroad in the world without a single care
it never fazed her one bit nor a whit
when this would jounce most men to stop and stare
as if they'd not seen such before
and she'd trounce 'em should they dare to pounce
a crystal-clear case of less is more
The Poet of Las Vegas Boulevard,
steals emotion from the night
Holding a vigil in the darkness,
waiting for the light
The Poet of Las Vegas Boulevard,
among the screams and homeless cries
Making rhyme of what reason has abandoned
—marking time inside the shadow of lies
(Las Vegas Boulevard: January 24, 2016)
When I think about the definition of beauty
When I think about beauty that's true
All thoughts lead me down the same boulevard
And that boulevard then leads me to you
Place a kiss on your cheek, brush your lips with my own
Whisper [your name here] at the moment they touch
Breathing in synchrony, composing a symphony
In concert, we tune by the touch
A bow on the strings of a viol
A pluck on the strings of guitars
Savor the sweet sounds of rapture
Ascend to the most distant stars
Floating in weightless existence
The earth a good distance away
I'll come back when this dream is over
Although I wouldn't if I had my say
On Hollywood Boulevard
Grohman’s Chinese theater, The Walk Of Fame
Awestruck, frantic crowds tromp down the street
A swirl of accents divulge from whence they came
Myth and stark truth clash but rarely meet
A boulevard of tinsel, tourist mecca anointed
Foreign visitors now the sole true attraction
All a hyped-up charade, but no disappointment
Quiet on the set, lights cameras, action!
Remove tourists, hustlers, the Marilyn Museum
Costumed crusaders and peddlers of kitsch
And Hollywood is now just a mausoleum
To a cinematic history dynamic and rich
Just one district out of L.A.’s forty-two
Multi-ethnic, working class, urban blight
Yet in the hearts of dreamers passing through
It remains the movie land of sheer delight
8/1/22
6th Place
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
The world is avoid
no new color just tones
of ashes and soot
a dark building sharp in focus
softer vision feeling the displacement of time
Like the MESSENGER's wings
I sweep away the dust of time
the dust of fear
as this world collides
no words can tell
just sensations of frost-wintry white
chilling are my visions
a movie hall dark at night
standing delicately in the shadows
of a hard midnight
harsh in memory soft of world
hard insight
dust n cobwebs
my memory collects
clinging to everything
as my world collides
my earth is in desolation tones
of ash n bone
aq dark city on the horizon, running, running...
returning, returning to a stop
along the seams of oblivion
how long is this corridor of time
lingering on desolation's boulevard
as worlds collide
Frayed edges, dust and dirt clumping in little hands
After the sun shower, cast out to the rough cobbled
Street.
Newborn in her arms, mom watches as the children
Climb the three foot rope-swing, merrily dangling
Above toy trucks and doll-houses.
Smiling, we glide past, comforted, family at my side
As we carry treasures from the street market back
Home, knowing I too enjoyed such moments, and
Share them still today.
Portland, Oregon
June 2021
Im broken
In pain Lost
Hurt
useless
My world coming apart
Love
An acid disease
That breaks me
gets me nowhere
That visual effect
Lips locked fingers crossed
Spiritually pure ecstasy
My heart fears loneliness
Wondering will love ever love me back
Passion's hand grab me.
Let desire dance with glee.
Love's conspiracy.
3/3/2021
~3~
Rhymed Senryu
With complete freedom
to wear anything one wants
in public:
hamster ball.
Very dapper
sauntering the boulevard
in one's hamster ball.
At a Boulevard cafe
sits a man near a the park
where pigeons
without corn keep company
to someone completely
solitary...
In the café bar uselessness
from someone who elegantly
sits alone ...
In the air the memory
of a figure that
does not occupies the
space of a soulless
body in front of an
empty coffee cup ...!
Like a damaged rose, make the pain beautiful.
I see the streetlights and the signs.
We're getting close.
I see the roads go from platinum concrete to rubble.
look at the trash bags skipping across the street like tumble weeds.
In the rear view I see the “bridge of sighs” we crossed to get here burning down.
I lost you some where back there.
However, I'm not fooled by this shell you left behind.
I won't let your actions now, contaminate how beautiful you were when you were mine.
The Poet of Las Vegas Boulevard
steals emotion from the night
Holding a vigil in the darkness
waiting for the light
The Poet of Las Vegas Boulevard
among the screams and homeless cries
Making rhyme of what we’ve long abandoned
—marking time inside a shadows lie
(Las Vegas Boulevard: January 24, 2016)
Fans
all in their finest
with cashmere scarves
enchanted eyes
step quickly from taxis
at curbside
or ascend the subway stairs
eager for an evening
of cocktails
and smooth saucy
straight ahead jazz
let's get this party
started
Hot trumpet solo
finds his way up
through the mix
lets the groove fly
all bouncy and bright
his sidemen give him space
and he takes it
Drinks arrive
as the piano man
starts layin down
a solid
confident stride
riffin on that timeless melody
with some cozy
comfortable chords
Closing time's
still hours away
this club is packed to the walls
tempo changes
from breezy to brisk
and resistance
as they say
is futile
AND Jesus! Like-licking lollipops gliding King
of the boulevard of spirit dreams
and I licked-like sticks like the wooden
cross across Life Oh Mohammad too,
who knows where he's taking me--somewhere
I want to be? Like my best friend
and religion is a sidewalk with many souls
walking the path toward diminished dreams
of an afterlife dry-glow-stick lick
so I'm taking my best friend who knows
all my buttons; pushing love
and my shadow-affair life
IT'S where I rest my head
just me and a ballpoint pen-Head
called "Me" and it's my Soul.
:: - ::
Like so many possibilities, the cars stream by
All gleaming in the sun, catching my eye
Offering so many choices I can make in life;
which woman do I desire to always stand alongside me,
what kind of man do I aspire in life to be?
Do I want her to be as strong, or stronger than me;
do I want to be gentle and kind, giving love freely?
Strolling down this boulevard of dreams,
thinking of the endless possibilities ...
the vast unknown quantities presented in life
What do I look for, what will I pass with regret?
All the beautiful flowers on this boulevard,
which will I pick, which will I forget?
I believe in my heart
that God will direct me the right way
So as I continue to walk down this boulevard of dreams,
I wonder with much curiosity, what will the future bring
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