Central Poems - Poems about Central

1st anniversary of playing piano at M Central

On Friday, 2024.06.28, at 11:13:07
I first played piano at the M Central.
It was BB who introduced me to a world of music,
The 1st song played was his favourite.
It has been exactly one year.
Many things have unfolded here.
As I genuinely seeking for music therapy, 
I have also shared that to many.
On my 2nd and subsequent visits

I cracked on the central air-conditioning on Juneteenth 2025

I cracked on the central air-conditioning on Juneteenth 2025...
the first time this summer,
when martyrdom got chucked aside for cold comfort.

How heavenly the climate controlled apartment
unit b44 felt and damn the torpedoes
(originated from a quote
attributed to Admiral David Farragut
during the Battle of Mobile Bay
in the American Civil War)
about being the poster child for Peco.

Sensitivity to global

Central Park

Central Park radiates beauty when you’re in love. It transforms into a slice of heaven, where every moment feels like a poet's dream. Imagine harps playing softly and golden crowns illuminating a blissful paradise. As twilight falls, the air is electric with romance; lovers' dreams ignite with every spark.

Experience the enchantment of Central Park, where

You are not the victim

You are not the victim
Stop trying to manipulate the situation
We are all seeing
We are all knowing
We are all loving
Not you
So when we change the narrative
And put your hate in the spotlight
Don't use our discomfort
Our resistance
And our need for justice
As a way to use your tears
To make you the victims
But you won't get our sympathy
Nor our

Grand Central Station

   Joint pourings of nations,
   All from different nations.

   Funnel of diversity,
   Cultures melding in.

   The station holds the might of nations.
   Flowing round pillars,
   Through the gates to the station.

   Different dress from all the rest.
  

Christmas Trees at Smithfield Central Doctors

"...in spring, the most delicate feathery yellow of plumes and plumes and plumes and trees and bushes of wattle, as if angels had flown right down out of the softest gold regions of heaven to settle here, in the Australian bush."

— D. H. Lawrence, Kangaroo

Paraboloid totems of evergreen hope, upside down,
Sparkling white trinkets, sparkling white

What time is love?

Written & Posted, 3rd January 2025
For the International Contest, CHOOSE A 2025 POSTED POEM
Sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 4th January 2025 (Second Place)
Poem of the day - 5th January 2025




I checked my watch and checked my phone,
but everyone’s in a different zone, 
Eastern, Central, Mountain, Pacific, 
maybe I should be more specific, 
the dollar says in

W W W plus'

Wicked wily woke.' 
wikipedia..'
Is one old; bad joke.)

Gemstone Central

amethyst, amber, agate, aquamarine
barite, bauxite, beryl, soon seen
carnelian, chryophrase, cool citrine
diamond, dolomite, delivered by Dean

Emerald, epidite, elusive by far
Flourite flowing next to Feldspar,
Gemstone hit parade, setting the bar
Hematite holds us hostage, said Mar.

Isis calcite showing up imperial jade,
Jasper enters the fray with his own maid.
Karats counted in diamonds, making the grade.
Lapis Lazuli opening your third-eye,

Gemstone Central

amethyst, amber, agate, aquamarine
barite, bauxite, beryl, soon seen
carnelian, chryophrase, cool citrine
diamond, dolomite, delivered by Dean

Emerald, epidite, elusive by far
Flourite flowing next to Feldspar,
Gemstone hit parade, setting the bar
Hematite holds us hostage, said Mar.

Isis calcite showing up imperial jade,
Jasper enters the fray with his own maid.
Karats counted in diamonds, making the grade.
Lapis Lazuli opening your third-eye,

central park pigeons

Central Park pigeons were concerned about Walter M. Leed.
He usually brought them seed, nuts, and other wonderful feed.
They conversed among themselves and formed a delegation.
Flew to his house, to see if it was a funeral or weird celebration.

It’s my anniversary, he said, do you want to stay for the party?
They served all kinds of snacks

cats of Central Avenue

Sixty-seven cats marched on Central Avenue Today
In the rain, for it is April, so hey, hey, hey
They had a mission, wanting kibbles and bits.
Some of them were demanding in spurts and spits.

There was hissing and stomping in yellow boots.
These cats were an army, in strong cahoots.
We New Yorkers were intimidated wildly today.
Cats of Central Avenue

Central Ohio's Twelve Days of Yuletide Magic

Here in Central Ohio, when winter's chill descends, 
We celebrate for twelve whole days, our Yuletide dividends. 
Deep within the Buckeye land, where Aesculus genus grows, 
We throw our hands up with delight as C-bus gifts enclose.

On the first day of the season, Columbus gave to me,
a Strader's Nursery conifer, scarlet and gray tree.

On the

Blue Heron

The great bird feathered harpoon
Flung from one shore to the other
Soaring over the Caribbean green of Torch Lake 

Flies at the bow of my speeding boat
Or should I say more accurately
I race on the morning frill of waves
At the Blue Heron’s pointing wing

20 miles per hour
On the nose
Skipping stones lake to sky to lake

How to

Central Face

I answer to the norm
the strangest decorum
in the Northern Hemisphere
I have a longing to be free

Burning seeds
their husks weep
In valleys of sleep  
Two tulips niggardly cling
to the hereafter

Vultures visceral and cruel
Trolls the words of Kings
Jabberwocky on surfeit fleets
Mirrored in the midnight Sun

Teeth chattering
shadows in the midday furnace
interlaced with solemnity
Primal flights of fear
sanguine coloured dreams


Deep

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