Cranking Poems

Hitchcock

...I remember reading a short story by Hitchcock. Three friends walk and converse as they make their trek home from work. Huddled in mind,
independently fearless, the cold air or hot night baring their...

The remnants of August 2024 Hurricane Debbie

...The remnants of August 2024 Hurricane Debbie

Like a humane huntress, she
(the anthropomorphized storm)
brought a spate of cool Autumn like
temperatures and gentle soothing rain
here within my ...

Shades of Monday

...He is cranking up the old rusty engine again, but all that work is in vain, sweat is running from his anxious face and grease is spilling all over the place. There he goes again with his tool bag and...

The Last Organ Grinder

...Down the faithful brick stones he goes with his favorite monkey Spiff
through the alley where twilight glints soon turn from pinkish to gold
beneath a yawning sun. Bringing forth a new day,...

Relics of a Bygone Day

...Roaming over the wheatfields
     their joints a-cranking
   insecticide fog blankets the air
     Oklahoma dustbowl bleeds 

   Relics of a bygone day, all angles they move
     ravaging field...

The Last Organ Grinder

...Big muscles of the organ grinder, his biceps burning.
Cranking springs, the tired, but cheerful, Italian chap.
Many chapters of his life on streets of cold cement.
His beard, silver tone; his worn...

Space Hotel

...Would a starry sweep
                                     Alight against an engine
                             As seemingly the great aghast retain
                         The seven sent, the cr...

Evolving Echoes

...I tried squeezing my eyes countless times,
But even up to date when l close them, folded scenes release their leash on me,
How could l even start  explaining because we didn’t even do mammie and da...

A Kind of Living

...In Yorkshire, a bit of bacon-butty
in a greasy cafe -
could have had blood sausage.
My breaches are squeaking,
mice are leaving deposits.
Somehow a few do applaud 
my slippery tongue.

Beer i...

The Impotent Poet

...sputtering poetry,
   the impotent poet
      tells me, she was
“…puttering around Pittsburg.”

          potent poetry. perhaps,
        alluring alliteration
      potentially portends
 ...

I Am a Painting Factory

...I am a painting factory
cranking out eight to ten canvases a week
it is my gemini mentality
it is my high mccormick energy

I am a poetry factory
slapping out seventy poems a week
it is my iow...

Forever Night

...Days passing on by
Nights sometimes I try
Finding the answers to the why
Seeking to find
Some piece of mind
Keep looking over here
Over there
Eventually, that is where I'm bound
Under the gro...

Dream State Yields Deep Sleep Personifications

...Dream state yields deep sleep personifications

Upon lying supine - eye shutter lids
into the land of Wynken, Blynken, and Nod,
where the sandman beckons and bids
dead to the webbed wide world,
...

Free Tee Wee

...Been cranking out some crazy dreams
of prehistoric birds in flight

Six foot tall with bills like puffins
looking to roost for the night

One flew into a high line wire did a triple
and slamme...

We Were a Country

...We were a country where people roamed free
   where you drove cross-country without paying a fee

We were a country where folks dreamed big 
   outside of Washington where men wore wigs

We wer...

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