Sunday Morning Blues**
Whether it's the vibrant nights of Rio de Janeiro or the electric energy of Las Vegas nightlife,
I’ve indulged in two or three glasses of Twisted Ice Lemonade,
Or perhaps it was an Alabama Slammer. One lesson learned: never trust your memory!
My days and nights have been nothing less than a freight train ride,
And that's the truth!
I can’t forget the Cuban Bulldog that bit me
Three years ago, in Kissimmee, that’s a fact.
It left me weak in the knees,
All thanks to those potent drinks.
Was it that audacious, wild Long Island Iced Tea
That nearly took me down.
After watching a news clip about Muammar Gaddafi,
Or maybe it was an episode of Friends?
Yet, I met my sweet Marlon Brando,
And it was hallelujah and Amen in Key Largo.
So many bartenders, so many smoke-filled rooms,
And once again, here I am, tackling
Another Sunday morning blues head-on.
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Brando wouldst cry whence heart parts, my desire,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme,
Self-secured, needless watch, aloof—steel beam,
Perch in want, puffed huffed girth lurks torment’s dire,
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Purpled robs thee of thy true color scheme,
Gray’s an area, right or wrong, prior,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme,
Budgie’s tales of my gamut’s length, extreme,
Dicky-bird, thou art my wordless flyer,
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Ne’er will the pair meet, sums nature’s pipe dream,
Empty nestles remembrances retire,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme,
Decisions abandon ruse quips redeem,
Eager claimed as death mounts, lingers satire,
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme.
Me – Irish catlick working class:
mantillas, martyrs, Maynooth, Mass.
You – a literal Lutheran lass,
all pretzels, prenups, Mama Cass.
It never could have ever worked:
those ambiguities that lurked
were knees that, one day, would have jerked,
and we’d have wound up Douglas Sirked.
Your Nancy Clutter beats my Holden
(less Marlon Brando, more Karl Malden).
The pond we’re on was never golden –
winter white-out wiped out Walden.
I would have wearied of your sermons,
short Sheridans and shallow Shermans,
your Sophie Tuckers, Ethel Mermans,
poe-faced Pennsylvania Germans.
Ignore the stranger on the shore,
by Stan and Stella set no store.
Don’t give a damn what Della wore,
or Mary Tyler any more.
Pitifully, he calls her again and again
Brando yelling, "STELLA" from his knees.
Like he ever meant something to her...
Stop groveling like a fool. She was a tease.
She doesn't come from Kansas or Oz
and Sunnybrook Farm is make believe.
Stop shouting her name. For crying out loud.
Shed your tears somewhere else if you grieve.
She left long ago on a streetcar to get away.
It's your fault she's gone. You and your drama.
You killed her desire. That's what she said.
The conflicts you created left her in trauma.
You were the spider who sat down beside her,
the tiny creature that was much too hairy.
You brazenly acted as if you were a king,
but there's nothing about you that's scary.
After all this time, still blubbering for Stella?
You're a weeping wimp and it's pathetic
how you demean yourself time after time.
No one cares because you're not empathetic.
She waved farewell and made your life hell.
So, get off your knobby knees, Marlon.
Alice doesn't live here anymore. She left
and no longer wants to call you, 'Darlin.'
One of my favorite album covers in which I like best
Includes some famous actresses like Marilyn Monroe and Mae West
Some very famous male Actors it also yields
Like, Marlon Brando, Huntz Hall and W.C. Fields
Stan Laurel, Oliver Hardy, and Bette Davis are also there
And so is Johhny Weissmuller, Oscar Wilde and Fred Astaire
There's the British Prime Minister- Robert Peel and Hindu Guru- Swami Sri
And there's Sonny Liston but there is no Mohammed Ali
There's Lenny Bruce and Bob Dylan and others you might know
And of course, the famous poet- "Edgar Allen Poe"
You'd have to be good to recognize them all
But it's easy to find- John, Goerge, Ringo, and Paul
Feeling so blessed away from
thee abuse being battered taunted
today I sit with my two red poodles
brando and ruby they love me
unconditionally making sure I am
hugged affectionately constantly
sinfully indulging in my favorite chocolate
Toblerone bites sipping a warm
Glogg finally feeling safe watching
springtime form in a far off distance
over looking colorful homes in Lebanon
Poetic angst,
Jimmy Dean
Poetic angst,
Brando screams
“Stella, Stella,”
the spirits call
“Live Fast, Die Young”
—the fates befall
(Dreamsleep: August, 2022)
B-ride
R-eceives
A-nniversary
N-ote
D-uring
O-utbreak's
&
R-ampage
A-ppreciating
Q-uarantine
U-nder
E-nhanced
L-ockdown's
D-efense
A-s
G-room
S-tops
I-nfection
Topic: Anniversary of Brando & Raquel Dagsi (April 26)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Art Gun
Do angry young men with guns ever make art? Or just destroy? Look at Brando in Apocalypse Now. He was a raging war chief who recited poetry and was worshipped by his men. Even the assassin sent to kill him loved him. You must love your enemy. Does Daesh love those they murder? No, I think now. So where is the art and love in war? Is it in Ukraine, Palestine, Iraq, Afghan, Yemen, Syria? It's up to us to find it. Then we will spike the barrel and bring world peace...
Second Shadow
Jimmy Boom Semtex
this being
closer to what
was supposedly
really said as
not a mankind
leap but a step
for a man
not man
in general
for history
in a way they
say repeats it
self as i can be
heard breathing
heavily as i light
ly step out and off
of a plane for
my first time
on not only South
American soil but
dark coffee grind
Colombian dirt
as earth can only be
described what up
until now has been
for me seen from
a telescope
Kubrick died in ninety
nine so never saw
the real 2001 but
is said to have made
a reel of an event if
needed to be faked
so in my case in case
i don't make it
i'd like Coppola
to cast a fat
Brando as me
coughing out
cotton balls
stating so
everyone
knows this
is the real
fake
the
horror
Late, legendary American method actor, Marlon Brando
His piercing scream of "Stella!" reached a crescendo...
In "Streetcar Named Desire." A supernova in his prime
Internationally hailed as "The greatest actor of all time"
Something in the newspaper that I saw
I have to say, it made my blood run cold,
and I had never noticed it before
but just confirmed that I am getting old.
The latest music chart, the top twenty,
for downloads, since the singles chart has gone
full of the strangest names, yes there were plenty
what made me sad , I'd only heard of one.
Marshmello, Benny Blanco, Travis Scott,
Loud luxury & Brando, who are they?
Peep & XXXtentacion, weird or what?
George Ezra, I knew him, which made my day.
I sat and pondered where the years all go
to the consoling strains of Matt Monro.
union corruption
great dramatic masterpiece...
Brando, Malden, Saint
Copyright © 2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Published 2018 in "Hollywood Haiku" via wattpad.com
Jesus Aquando
learned all about pitching from Brando
coulda been a contenda
till Stella decided to question his genda.
Glass shoes
Petticoats
Leather Jackets
Cherry Cokes
Sandra Dee
Bobby too
Pat Boone
Kalamazoo
Hair teased
Jitter bug
petticoats
cut rug
Virgin here
Virgin there
Real love
Everywhere
Nifty 50's
Brando
hula hoop
gotta go!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.