I Tried to Unlearn
……. his name , his face, his memory
but each morning they kept resurfacing;
rubber ringed feelings that would not sink
no matter how hard I pushed down.
So I journeyed to places
that had rooted our relationship:
The park where the broad-shouldered oak
unwrapped delicacies of intimate memories
then leaning in much closer
it shared a consolatory shadow.
The river that coiled past
churned up affectionate thoughts
then rippled onwards to twist back
with a scornful smirk that made fun of me.
The café where he teased
about expressoing our shared ideas
and consolidating coffee compatibility.
Then on the butterfly wings of symmetry
our relationship seemed to fly to new heights
but was I another Icarus on a solo flight?
So the past that I had plucked at
offered no signs of warning, no signals of regret;
sadly the present, the here and now,
yields no guidance on how to….. forget.
Ian Souter
“Politics is a contact sport” —Steve Chabot
It ain't over 'till it's over —Yogi Berra
Loug And Doug
Pleasant gentlemen both, broad shouldered and tall
Good sports who respect the umpire's call
Playing the game with pride and joy
Sincerely humble, never coy
Staunch New Yorkers with their eyes on the ball
I saw her in the park 'neath the streetlights dim glow
She was holding the hand of a man I don't know
She is my wife not his and I'll have none of that
But then he was broad shouldered and I've gone to fat
Well, I fussed and I fumed and I called up the gym
It will take me some work to whip the likes of him
To the weights I did go and I worked like a drone
I would teach this new stranger to leave her alone
I went down to the park ready for come what may
She said, "Honey, you remember my brother, Jay."
"When he dies it all goes just to me and to you"
I'll be rich - and a fool - but in shape - there's that, too
3-1-20
Contest: A Rattling Rhyme 2
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
They call me Big Toe he said.
He was tall, broad shouldered, handsome.
I looked at his shoes.
They were enormous, probably to provide for the big toe.
I wondered if it was both big toes or just one big toe.
I thought it would be too personal to ask,
So I kept my thoughts to myself.
Glad to meet you Big Toe, I said.
The other adults started laughing.
I am big Joe, he told me. Not big toe.
I stopped looking at his feet at this point,
and started wondering about my hearing.
Now that the half-lit vigil of the housewife has ended
And the petitions for forgiveness have begun,
To what shall we aspire?
The worlds are set in motion
And the damaged walls were mended,
Not by the strong willed, broad shouldered
Man of action, but rather
By the joining of two minds,
The blending of thought and feeling,
Shared silences that resonate
Beyond the realm of words.
Copyright © 1997-2018 by Benjamin Toney. All rights reserved.
Image credit: Mending Wall by Robert Frost
I once knew a young cowboy in Tulsa.
He was broad shouldered with longish blonde hair.
He rodeo’d with the best of that breed,
And he was champion of our county fair.
He was something to see with the women.
Always had a new beauty in his sight.
Never heard ‘em complain about nothin’-
He disappeared in the dead of the night.
We’ve got a high school rodeo team now.
About the best that you’ll find anywhere.
Four ropers, three bull riders and a clown –
They are all broad shouldered with long blonde hair.
8/30/2017
For poetry contest Bittersweet for Kevin Shaw
I knew a rodeo champ in Tulsa
He was broad shouldered with shiny blonde hair
He was a sight to behold with women
And knew all of them at our county fair
Then one night in the dead of the Winter
He left town and was never seen again
We heard he had settled down in Texas
Or he was seen in Lawton now and then.
We’ve got a high school rodeo team now
'Bout the best you’ll find anywhere 'round here
Four ropers, three riders and a young clown –
They're all broad shouldered with shiny blonde hair
September 24, 2016
For Contest 210, Brian Strand
I knew a rodeo cowboy in Tulsa
Broad shouldered with shiny blonde hair
He was a sight to behold with women
Knew 'em all at our county fair
We’ve got a high school rodeo team now
'Bout the best you’ll find anywhere
Four ropers, three riders and a clown –
Broad shouldered with shiny blonde hair
July, 2016
For Contest Two Stanzas - Two Only, for Broken Wings
A Young Cowboy From Tulsa
I once knew a young cowboy in Tulsa
Broad shouldered with long blonde hair
He rodeo’d with the best of that breed
And was champion of our county fair.
He was a sight to behold with women
A new girl every Saturday night
Never heard ‘em complain about nothin’
They all said he treated them right.
Then one night in the dead of the Winter
He left town and was never seen again
We heard he had settled down in Texas
Or he was seen in Lawton now and then.
The time passed quickly since he left us
All the women got on with their lives
Thought they couldn’t live without him
Now they are all makin’ excellent wives.
We’ve got a high school rodeo team now
About the best you’ll find anywhere
Four ropers, three riders and a clown –
Broad shouldered with long blonde hair.
You reek of fancy smell
That one worn by a kingly son
You spend your daddy’s golden coins
And drive like a daring prince to town
You open doors like gentlemen
And lead her way to tricky nonse
You smile like she was your world
And dance until she finds romance
Which bait did she first bite?
Was it the fancy smell
Of your rotting four-wheel drive?
Was it your golden coins-
Which piled up credits from your daddy’s bank?
Or the gentle gesture like a sheepish boy,
But tigers roared behind you as time went by.
So which part did you get her fooled?
For neither are you a pretty man.
Nor a roguish broad-shouldered cowboy.
Your small eyes know no mystery
No deep soul to unravel
Your hair is losing healthy strands
And boy, those wrinkles lining up!-
Where did that stress come from?
Your nose they also didn’t seem right
Your lips, oh never mind!
Your brain can count a hundred times, I’ll give you that.
But let x be you, and y be her,
A riddle you cannot solve
So one last time I ask
Which part did you fool her eyes?
Now soaring high above the lands
that form the Big Sur shore,
her wings enjoin the wind and sky
set free forevermore.
Where hills, broad shouldered, meet the sea
eternal, vast, and blue,
and cloud-laced skies above the earth
now greet her soul so true.
She soars, a butterfly set free,
o'er all her life has seen.
Her memory, still rich to us,
now shares its golden sheen.
And longer than white waves have coursed
the California shore,
and deeper than the ocean or
the heavens men explore,
the gentle hands of God will guide
her wings forevermore.
For Nancy
7-16-15
He was the leader of the band till age ninety-three
Won the Senior Olympics five-mile race thirty times
In the Depression Dad worked to feed his family
And succeeded by pinching all nickels and dimes
Never raised his voice in anger; that was not Dad’s way
Gave money to educate Native Americans
But he didn’t once mention the cash he gave away
To animal rights causes and disabled veterans
At six feet, broad-shouldered, he handled Mom’s depression
And brightened children’s lives with his dramatic antics
Making up stories on the spot with imagination
He mastered the art of pulling laughs from his bag of tricks
Friends were jealous; none had a father as kind as mine
Imagine the pride I felt when he walked me down the aisle
A humble man who never complained, not even one whine
Though I’m alone now, Dad made my childhood worthwhile
He didn’t wear Superman’s cape or have a magic ring
Some might have mistaken him as an ordinary man
But Dad set the bar so high, to me he was a king
No boys could ever match him, the hero of our clan
*For Jeanette Fisher’s “Holding Out for a Hero” Contest
With every page turned
I discover traces of myself
Behind the tattered covers
Of old family diaries
In the words of Homer
Within the songs of America
Amongst the GI’s, Hoplites, and Senators,
This is the masculine
I despise this cloak of anonymity
In the shadow of blackness
That veils my hubris
A negative casting
The horror of another
Nightmarish vision
In long forgotten and dusty texts
Against the backdrop of time
I looked into the battled hardened stare
Meeting the gaze as an equal
Whilst judgments eyes
Exhausted and proud standing
Voicing a praise unheard
Allowed me to stands with my fathers
Unashamed
For that moment I was with them
Now turning to depart
A chorus of voices calls my name
This body of men and kings
Times guardians
Chiseled each of granite
Strong willed
Broad shouldered
Defiantly proud
Beckons my eyes to pass over those likenesses of
Caesars Legions, American Revolutionaries, and Everyday men
Fixed within those pages I stand
Eye to eye and man to man
With myself
I am one of them
Brazen and strong
He smiles at me.
As though the weight
Of psychedelic visions
Were insubstantial
And inconsequential;
A trivial thing.
Broad-shouldered emotions
Mushroom through
Organic momentum
To greet my pain,
A throbbing haze
That is my post-script.
Narcotic serenity
Wraps around my brain,
Slurring everything
In my tilt-a-whirl scene,
Until the funhouse
Sweeps me away.
I feel myself shrinking
Like Alice In Wonderland,
But I am not afraid
Of the beautiful myriad,
Understanding how addictive
Compulsiveness can be.
Opulent pleasure
Invades my space,
Stinging reality
With a new perspective,
Numbing submission
In a morphine choke-hold.
Sound and color bend,
A sensational delight
Of exotic flairs
And pendulums humming;
It’s unlike anything I’ve known
Except for his smile.