Ellis Poems | Examples

Nona Mason italy

I adore my beautiful Nona giving birth to my father September 14th 1942 this woman from Mason Italy daughter of Masonery family from Rome culture heritage in one woman's journey to America ancestors from Ellis Island I won't mention my grandfather a complete womanizer my Nona family helped my pop while serving in WWII Somewhere in Italy my Nona's  family bringing breadbto the troops in my pops platoon the many pioneer women raising a family from Rome mi Nonna Irish Italian blessing Mason Keaton what a wonderful blessing baptising me from God Nona Mason Italy Ciao Bella

The 40th Anniversary Of Chef Boyardee's Death

He was a terrific and skilled Italian chef.
Forty years ago, he took his final breath.
On June the 21st of 1985, Ettore Boiardi passed away.
He was born in Borgonovo Val Tidone, Italy and moved to the USA.
At the age of 16, he arrived at Ellis Island on a French ship.
Now millions are eating his food because he took that trip.
He turned out to be a businessman who was shrewd.
People ate at his restaurant and they loved his food.
It was natural causes that caused Boiardi's death.
Millions are thankful because of that Italian chef.


[Dedicated to Ettore Boiardi (1897-1985) who died on June 21, 1985]

Un Farabutto

Grandpa Francesco Proia,
from Caserta, Italia,
a clever stowaway 
in the bowels of the ship
bringing him to Ellis Island,
Feb. 4, 1905.
Gruff ways,
often snarling a guttural “Huh,”
a lack of English,
never-ending hand gestures,
made me fearful of him.
But awestruck I was
with the romantic notion
of his stowing away.
Bootlegging homemade vino
during Prohibition – another
plus as he captured my imagination as
un farabutto – a scoundrel, a reprobate.
Add in his being a coal mine boss
in Marianna, Pennsylvania,
and I had a genuine hero.
How many other children
claimed such details about their grandpas?
Never telling anyone
of my naïve admiration for him,
family loyalty prevented me
from bragging about him.
Living to just a few days short
of his “hunnert” birthday,
I loved and admired him to the end.
Even when the ship’s manifest
I discovered for La Lorraine
listed him as a passenger
in steerage, not a stowaway.

Farewell

Born two centuries yesteryear
A young pair who passed through Ellis
Built a frame home with rose trellis
Intertwined blooms like them bound dear.
Last roses on their headstones rest,
Grandparents by whom I was blest.

Bitesize Poem no52 Poetry Contest

Ethereal Enigma and Empathetic Eel

Ethereal enigma echoed empathic eel ‘s emotional elevation
Elongated elusive elephant-like Edison expected ectoplasm
Extrasensory efforts of exacting Ellis effortlessly eludes evildoers
Exasperating empathetic eel and elusive ethereal enigma

Enough Flows Conjugal Juice

You men, having come from the martial Mars,
Us women from fetchingly cute Venus,
Do for long engage in a game of spars
And there’s li’le change in this mutual status.

For, feigning love no more than carnal sex,
Man’s for long sharpened his pyrrhic war axe,
To get loved whilst the fair sex has paid tax,
Praise be, pretender that no genius lacks!

Conjugal life centres round, what else, sex,
If we believe what an expert sayeth,
Fains if there be freedom from sex or tax,
Cometh liberation only at death!

So then, there's un-spelt avowal of truce,
Abundant surges still conjugal juice!
_____________

Expert sayeth: Havelock Ellis and others on the subject of sex
Sonnets (Tongue-in-cheek) | 01.08.05 |

Is There a Doctor In the House

Dr rictus smile hilary jones been on gmb a while; well a long old time anyway'
Had the craic with Rod Humphris writer of the Simon Ellis genre, series
Also landlord of raven pub;  in Bath the city; couldn't really understand Jones clear
Derided Rod with a line about dirty beer? as his science weren't up to much as such
First he was giving it out, like he owned each if and but , then said look we doc's are
Still just learning here,  only when the cameras turned away from Rod thats clear'
A gang of three of gmb made noise, but no great case that any would see'
Well done Rod, take it in large thanks from so many!

Heaven Is

Heaven Is
Heaven is the love and trust from a child
And the approval of God
by Joan Donnelly Ellis May 23, 2021

What Sends Them Harvard Poets

For Langston Hughes

What sends them Harvard poets
I just couldn't do it, Sir: 
What sends them Harvard poets
I just couldn't do it, Sir:
They'll never give me a Pulitzer.

What tickles them Yale poets
Just leaves me sad an' a grievin':
What tickles them Yale poets
Leaves me sad an' a grievin':
Never seen no Birch trees 
On a snowy evenin'.

Then Oxford poets got they poems
An' I gots mine...
So I'll be movin' on, Langston
Movin' down the line....


Michael Ellis

The Stranger

Stranger
I never really met him
But I know him
I know his face in profile
The furrows of his brow
I’ve seen it enough times
At Barnes & Noble browsing Asimov
I’ve seen him
Leaving the loft
Watched his hands
Holding the door
For his momma at the beauty parlor
He always tips the stylist who frosts his mamma’s grays
The other day I just missed him
Leaving the last row of the church pews
The handout he left behind was still warm
His pencil still on the floor beneath the ancient wooden bench
And on Tuesday, I watched him do a coffee run
for the guys at the office
I know it was him
I floated in on his Perry Ellis
He takes his coffee black with extra sugar
He goes running on Saturday mornings rain or shine
Always listening to Miles
I still hear the bass echo in the trees 
He has his board meeting 
Every third Thursday
I know ‘cause he always picks up his dolce suit
Every third Wednesday
Then stops for a fade
Spends an hour with his boys
If I time it just right
I might get lucky 
And bump into him
Accidentally of course
I betta’ do it this Sunday
‘Cause this Monday
Is his first date
With the chick who frosts his mamma’s grays

Just Curious

I can't help but wonder what condition this planet would be in had the billions of dollars spent on the search for a second Earth , were instead, spent on saving this wounded Earth we struggle to survive in.
 By Joan Donnelly Ellis  January 5, 2021

At Ellis Island

At Ellis Island there were tons of lines
If you stood too long you were given fines
Your name easy if
It was Rose or Big Biff
Mine was misspelled about a hundred times

Poetically Amaze Readers

E-xcellent
L-ines
L-et
I-nspired
S-cribe

P-oetically
A-maze
R-eaders
K-eenly
E-mploying
R-ighteous

B-irthday
U-nder
T-he
L-itterateur's
E-xceptional
R-egards

Topic: Birthday of poet Ellis Parker Butler (December 05) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

Street Gossip

O' boy; have you all heard the street gossip today 
Mrs. Pringle at No. 9 is having a bad hair day

Mr. Ellis at No. 4 had a shave, as cut his chin
Danny at No. 21 threw his cat out in the bin

Her at No. 30, preggers yet not a man in tow
No. 11 the neighbours from hell really need to go

Postman is having an affair with her at No. 5
No darn wonder, our post is so late to arrive

Johnny at No. 37 has got himself a new motor
Him at No. 41 drains have got a funky odour

The knicker thief at No. 59 is kinda of weird
Her at No. 3 all her bloomers have disappeared 

Who am I, I’m not telling, you know how the street gossip
But I did hear No. 47 on passing, say morning trollop

Returning To America

Now...

The pat-down at O’Hare is intrusive.
I don’t look at the probing hands
or the dead bored eyes.
Schools of out of depth aliens,
are funneled through small holes
in an invisible net.

Then...

The Ellis Island cop is also bored.
He speaks ponderously,
as if the boy had no more wit than a fish.

Now...

I carry a man-bag over my shoulder,
it holds my documents.
The customs officer talks to me
in a sign language made audible
through pursed lips.

Then...

Sean looks up from his low-brow cap.
He dares not speak
least his tongue reveal
a patois of Connemara peat.
A crumpled birth certificate
is produced and stamped.

Now...

He studies my papers,
thrusts them back without a glance.

Then...

Sean keeps moving;
waiting to be pulled back,
not knowing 
that the future will pull him back anyway.

Now...

Outside the terminus, Americans depart
in checkered cabs for Atlantis, 
and other undocumented places.


~~~

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