Contraband Poems

To No One in Particular on the Unofficial HOA, Regarding Chickens: aka Weaponizing a Metaphor

here’s your plaque:
best in uniformity & public shaming.

no rooster crows without committee review.
no similes unless they match the mulch.

you scratch the dirt,
then vote on who gets corn-fed
when there's plenty to go around.

not every poem is a zoning dispute,
and I'm hard pressed to name anyone here
an expert in the field. get over yourselves. 

she left. 
what was the point of that?

you ran off a chance to learn something, 
or worse, 
ran off a chance to help a lonely person 
in need, masquerading what they want to be.
we'll never know now. 

all this for what?
the abject terror of an electron less
of validation? grow the f*ck up. 

I see you,
paper-bagging praise like contraband,
while circling the coop,
searching for a beak to clip.

I'm going to bed now, 
to dream of that first welcome 
I had three years ago. 
My sincerest hope 
is that you'll meet me there.

Secret Life

What a joke, to live in the foreign land
Can’t go from here, and I can’t stay
Still I can enjoy to a great extent
Little wonders of this beautiful day
Beneath the lilac trees in full bloom 
I sit near home on the bench, idly gazing
At the sunlit lilacs, inhaling their perfume
Oh the bittersweet note feels amazing
How exciting that moments of peace still come!
What a thrill to get some contraband sun! 
I can beat an imaginary snare drum
Without efforts required for the real one
I’ve a loophole to slip into secret life
In your pleasant country or anywhere else
I won’t make any kind of political strife
Won’t throw my coins in the wishing wells
I’ve got a shopping bag at my foot
In a moment I’ll get up and go upstairs
Maybe I haven’t done the best I could
Do it better, and let me know if you care.

Sunrise Over the Sea

Morning sunrise breathed light in filagree
burnishing colorful waves across the sea

It delicately wove golden threads of lace
in dawn's sky while it warmed my face

I smiled at the sea's luminous shimmers
as it moved in rhythmic dappled glimmers

The sun's brilliant shades of topaz and maize
seemed to set the sea aflame in a fiery blaze

I watched my footsteps stolen from the sand
by frothy fingers smuggled as contraband 

A flock arrived; their squawks heard as a cheer
The avian's call to breakfast I could plainly hear

Seagulls sang together in a raucous symphony
as dawn in glorious beauty, revealed her litany

They kept watch for light appearing in the East
as the signal it was time for the day's first feast

It was such a wondrous morning upon the cape
as sunlight artfully painted a stunning seascape

404

Millennia
has passed since
the last time

we met.
In those thousands
of years, our world

has shifted through
immeasurable changes.
Do I remember

the sound of your voice?
How does your face
glow when you smile?

Do you still wear
that coat,
the one that

makes you resemble
a Soviet revolutionary?
Millennia

has passed since
we last drank together.
In those thousands

of years, our tastes
have changed.
Do you now take

your coffee black?
How many shots of
tequila can you handle

before you fall around,
laughing in a gleeful stupor?
Did your bubble tea

order change?
Millennia
has passed since

we were able to embrace.
In those thousands
of years, a hug

has become a threat.
A handshake is
now contraband,

and a kiss
carries with it
a death sentence.

Are you safe?
Are you lonely?
Do you miss me

as much as I miss you?
Millennia
has passed

since friends, family, lovers
were allowed to simply be.
In those thousands

of years, our compromises
have done good to others,
but left ourselves empty.

The Beat Banned Band

"the beat banned band"


no piccolo
or sopranino

nor no no not
sopranissimo

the hep and hip 
cats where it's at

play subterranean 
subcontrabass 

Doctor 
Sax

seen at and as 
part of the scene 

saying we'd 
be smoking 

and are the 
ContraBand

Renegade Rhapsody

We finally made it to Phoenix Johnny's singing in the shower
We've been waiting for hours 
to take care of business.
Spitting out miles of chewed up road 
Contraband couriers of another load 
now our contact 
doesn't answer the phone
Another night in a cheap Motel
Here I am again lying to myself 
promised to quit this business 
But I had my fingers crossed 
No rain since Culiacan
And my mom 
is probably wonderin'
Where her son's off thunderin' to now
This work costs more than it pays
pissed away every dollar I made
And wore a hole 
in the pocket of my future.
Johnny's dressed just as the telephone rings 
The voice on the line says 
Gila Casino Queens Creek
One more last time we've beat the Devil                                     
It's because we cheat



JSB

Hippy Dippyvan Brings Cousins

The clan began singing before I saw the hippy dippy van.
It ripped around the mountain, and we heard its ceiling fan.
hollering and the wailing came to our ears with the smacking too.
It was the wild McCorlick Cousins, straight from Kalamazoo!

They are evil and they’re naughty, and they make us all laugh.
We were not surprised at all to see a contraband giraffe.
Their father is crazy, and their mother is beyond coping.
They came tearing down the street. No one here is moping!

Vampire Sonnets Xxiii the Ally

I could see fear come alive in her eyes,
she knew I could bring about her demise;
We stared and then raised a mutual flag 
just like an insidious game of tag;

Locked gaze and two pair of fangs extending,
 but as of yet there was no blood flowing;
Fable and I were gonna have to work 
together and not drive ourselves berserk;

I said to her ‘I want to learn from you.
Knowledge is power. I know this is true.’
Reached out to her with a very firm hand 
felt like we were exchanging contraband;

It’s alright for now I’ll call her ally,
and take her once she has taught me to fly.

Coimetrophobia and Such

I
All sorts of fears
A place of tears 
And all these years
I thought these letters
Strung together for a collector?
No, far from such 
C O I M E T R O PH O B I A
Intimated I feared losing
Coins at the cemetery
But oops, nothing to do with coins!

II
Then capital, names, of nations can
And do raise the odd question
Does Turkey have to do with FOWL?
For "turkey," tradition thanks Native Americans
With apologies a good country 
Might - o capital - sound hell- ish, I'm sorry
I don't understand H E L S I N K I
But "hell" better deal FIRE than WATER
May Finland never taste an iota of sink!

Meanwhile tourists have made me think 
About BANGKOK (some business stink!)
Back in the USA, I did learn to connect
The dots for INDIANAPOLIS & Connecticut
In Africa's south, a harbour (yes, there's contraband)
Rhymes with urban, not pronounced DUR - BAN
But yes, I do pray we do begin to ban
Alcohol sales on Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays
Prayer or pipedream for old fashioned ways?

Adventures In Childrearing

Mad Max and the Thunderdome
 Matinee at the brand new  cine
money for tickets but little else
Indeed we had not any

my purse the repository 
Each a burger and coke
finding the theater empty
Look it's ours,in union spoke

Finding a tier of few chairs 
Simultaneously we plopped
Only to find them unbolted to floor
As our secreted foodstuffs we dropped

Onions flagrantly scenting the air
Our toes to the ceiling
Without any flair
cans of coke rolling away without care 

Hurriedly jumping to feet
Scrambling contraband to secrete
Cat back in the bag before usher arrived
Offering free popcorn, SAAWEET.

Chalice of Night Ceremony

Resting inside a brass cauldron of craven curiosity
Lay a horror unexpected to anyone who peered,
A chalice of old silver containing a rotting hand
Surrounded by gold coins and ivory contraband
Stashed purloined treasure of one who steered,
An evil buccaneer known for murderous ferocity.

They who dared look fell victim to similar atrocity
Parts of their bodies protected more stolen loot,
When they no longer were trusted with treasures
Be it small tokens of bronze or gold measures,
More than one was peg-legged, missing hand or foot
There was no escaping this tyrannical monstrosity.

Dreaded they the feared Chalice of Night Ceremony,
Praying that parts of their body are not forfeited
For some minor infraction they had committed
Which no longer could be rationally defended,
And no paid substitute be willingly counterfeited
Though many a pirate pleaded a godly testimony.

Submitted to "Second Chance" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet

N/A
written January 19, 2022
especially for "Chalice of the Night" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Chatelle Anne Cooke

The New Year Angel

She walks in the forest with crumbs in her hand 
he swoops in for food and things,  "contraband " 
its a New Year of love a New Year of Hope 
and all the pines trees are trying to cope... 
Weighed down by the snow a snowman on gin   
wants  confetti for lunch with a mouthful of tin 

She douses the light on the darkness so tragic 
and all of a sudden we are clothed in magic 
no quandary nights all past demons are gone 
the Angel of Hope has designed and redrawn 
The weather is lovely from her to down under 
the brook gurgles softly with silence as thunder 

When the ball drops in town we all clap in cheer  
we're healthy once more like the Arlington deer 
She walks from the vineyard all full of pure joy  
the C words have died, thanks to Helen of Troy
Confetti is falling from a snowflake blue sky 
we're healthy once more and we're ready to fly

Play Possum

A game she had played every night 
on guard for that opened-door light;
was quick to react,
cause it was a fact-
each time, it was somewhat a fright!

Cause, under the covers, you see,
'twas something, that just shouldn't be;
a light in her hand
hid like contraband
for something, she'd do happily.

At this hour, she should be asleep-
so that's why mom comes in to peep.
And to mom's surprise
closed tight are her eyes-
zonked out like she counted her sheep.

But, little did mom come to know
that hiding beneath the bed throw-
another good book
a light in the crook
for reading by her secret glow!

Play possum was her secret game;
close book and light- shut eyes became
for seven-year-old
worth its weight in gold 
to do what she loved without blame!


October 19, 2021

First Place
Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 26
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Theme 3: Play Possum

8 syllable lines, rhythm -/--/--/
5 syllable lines, rhythm -/--/

True! One of my granddaughters many years ago!

Dangerous Cargo - With Apologies To Hedy Lamarr

She slithered from the jungle in a Vera Wang sarong
Like some wicked juju temptress with no sense of right or wrong. 
I remember how it thrilled me, 
Oh yeah, when she shimmied in the buff;
And that first time she let loose, I thought I’d never get enough.
She hid a wealth of smuggled goods among her cargo.

I was cornered and defenseless; she was turning on the tease.
Then she wrapped her legs around me in an anaconda squeeze.
She had something sweet to teach me, 
Oh yeah, more than modesty allowed.
So I poured a gin and tonic and I let myself get plowed.
She dealt in contraband delights with no embargo.

She was primitive and deadly. I was curious and young,
Groping hesitant, yet eager, heart to heart and tongue to tongue.
I plunged headlong with abandon, 
Oh yeah, off those reckless, dizzy heights,
Spinning through a swirl of colors, shooting toward a burst of lights.
I came down withered, drained, and blank like no tomorrow.

You can run a little faster, beat the bullet from the gun.
You can run a little farther, almost halfway to the sun.
But when you run from Tondelayo, 
Oh yeah, Christ, her cargo weighs a ton.

Van Gogh and the Drinkers

There is a hilarity in this canvas
Not often found in Van Gogh's art
And recognizable faces
Also unprecedented

They might be sneaking contraband liquor
Outside away from the prying eyes of the women
For it is three men, and a boy who is taking a taste
It gives me a new feeling about Van Gogh

An artist myself, I enjoy his art, for it is cartoonish like mine
I use neons, which he did not have access to back in his time
I am confident if he had access to neons, he would have used them
Can't you see his Irises and his reflections on the water
in florescent? I sure can!

This painting makes him more real to me than he has ever been
which is why it is my favorite of his.

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