Gawkers Poems

freeway accident

sirens on freeway
road noise is an annoyance
traffic backed up now

gawkers don’t watch road
impatiently inch forward
dreary hour wait

accidents happen
drivers are irritable
wheres the empathy

classy

Today was the first day of class.
You should have seen all the people.

Everyone couldn’t have had class, some of them must
have been gawkers, the types that slow to watch
flat tire changings and car wrecks.

Some were carrying maps - freshmen.
Like student drivers they clogged the paths,
drawing a few looks.

They gaggle together like geese,
Jeeezus - shut UP and get ON with it, freshies! I thought.
Not ungenerously - I remember being lost - back in the day.

I have class, myself - in both the intrinsic sense - of style -
and in the “research for credit” ‘check in on the first day,’ kind.

Still, we’re parading, and I’ve always loved parades.
My one regret is that there are no mimes or elephants.

ok.. poetry..

Stress is somewhere in my propinquity.
See, it’s known to stalk this vicinity.

I’m not a freshman, so it hasn’t struck yet,
but when it does, and it will, you can bet,
that initially, it will shake my tranquility
and end our start-of-year festivities.

It will creepily creep, destroying my sleep,
until I prove my scholastic resiliency.
.
.
Songs for this:
Violently Happy by Björk
Schoolin' Life by Beyoncé

Django-Lego

We are partly into an early Spring and the horses' struts with their
heads held up. White Palominos all, majestic beauties they'd be in the
heart of the little village passing by the central square where the market
is full of life of sellers and buyers, to gawkers and talkers as well. 

Nearby is the marbled-tier water fountain brimming with fish life and just beyond is the village lake, also teeming with edible fishes unlike those inside of the fountain. Edges of Papyrus and tall Cypress grass and just touching the colorful water lilies. Ahh, they've just arrived and tied up the horses so they'd be secured, here on top of the hill that overlooks the tiny village but seemingly the town life seems to have come up onto the hill, now the hill is full of life.

Oh, I forgot, the village of 'Somerset' with its old charm, thick thatched rooftops with their upper windows of English Oak, post and doorways too. Peaches, Apples Banana trees. Daffodils, daisies, roses, pansies, gladiolas, and much much more. This is truly Spring, the other seasons will be along shortly. I am here, that's why the village is here. I wanted to come home to 'Somerset' and be buried here in the Spring.

Elf Sleeps In Mouse Hole

What is in that mouse hole snoring away?
The cat sneaked a peek and tiptoed that day
Grabbed his owner’s phone and took a photo too.
Of a snoring elf sleeping in a matchbook box of red and blue.

The elderly elf had a scraggly beard, he was not fresh at all.
He’s a teensy thing, the cat said “less than three inches tall.”
The mouse family had invited their guest, who had promised them the moon.
They shooed the cat and the other gawkers away using a sixties tune.

Hidey Hidey Ho

Hyena the ringmaster with a hidey hidey ho
We gawkers love the enthusiasm that you always show
Your ways are loud and proud, but in no way overdone.
Proving to us circus folk that ring-mastering can be fun!

Thanks Mrs Breezy

She was trying to sell her house and she thought it would be easy
Until she noticed what was in the yard of her neighbor Mrs. Breezy
Into her front yard Breezy had plunked a mooning pumpkin man.
Gawkers and house-hunting lookers drove off as fast as a human can.

Hammer Head

Little nose
pressed against the tank window.
A shark is trying to eat it.

The kid does not move.

The shark slams against the glass,
thump, thump, thump,
it keeps thumping harder and harder.
Perhaps the boy is deaf?
I should do something.
I do,
I edge myself away to one side,
then a little further.
Now I'm behind a small crowd of gawkers.

The shark is huge, and it is crashing against
the class trying with all its might to break it.

Sorry to say,
the only thought in my head was:

If the glass breaks now
the kid gets it first.

Dalmation Nanny From Tv

Is that the dalmatian nanny, the one from TV?
The other nannies all looked, it was as far as they could see.
Surely not the famous one, the one who does the commercial. 
Not the dalmatian nanny named Mrs. T.U. Gurshall!

Mrs. T.U. Gurshall heard but kept her demeanor plain and true.
She had a charge to look after, a tiny human bundle in blue.
The TV ads had not gone to her head, she needed this job today.
She did her best at ignoring the gawkers, and quickly walked away.

Goofy Woofy Halloween Totem

Goofy Woofy Halloween totem is sitting proudly.
Gawkers are making comments, some rather loudly.
A few make fun of the animals, as they look funny.
I am not one of them. My disposition is sunny.

Goofy Woofy Halloween totem makes me want to play.
It is sitting in the cornfield on a warm October day.
They take their job seriously, inviting and warm.
The bees swoop in to gawk at them, cozy in a swarm.

Big Bust

A man who was built like an horse
Was stunned by his recent divorce
His wife learned her knockers
Excited some gawkers
And all of them could stay the course!

Stellas Garden

Stella's Garden
A gorgeous row of tiny dainty crystal bells lead the neighbors into Stella’s mystical garden.  She is thrilled to see their interest, and points out other items that are growing – turnips, radishes, lettuce, peas, tomatoes and green beans. The true gawkers are so enraptured with the bluebells They see nothing else. These flowers make Stella’s garden magic, mystical, and marvelous!



                                      aromatic bluebells
                                    flickering in her garden
                                      flower faerie laughs

Shall I Compare Thee

Shall I compare thee to a summer drive
in traffic, packed beyond capacity?
Or to a freeway snarl, an angry hive,
bothered and hot, as far as eyes can see?

Or to a wreck with gawkers slowing down,
and not one that is even on their side?
Or when, at last, you drive up, what the heck,
and it appears that everybody lied?

Or detours off the road and back again
through horrid little towns where none dare tread,
at least those still possessed of working brains,
not shuffling in the heat like the undead.

Nay, best not liken such a drive to thee;
I’d lock the car, dear, throw away the key.

Mallory the Cat

Mallory the cat needs a bit of a rest, he’s older than me. 
Nothing to see, I tell the neighbors. He’s just up in a tree. 
Gawkers come by and lambast me for letting him rest.
Up in his regular place, his tree where he is blest.

He has been sitting up there since he was a kitten.
He’s fine, I reassure them, he looks rather smitten.
Some want to rescue him, which is weird to me.
After all, Mallory is my cat, he is hurting no one up in a tree. 

Cameramen from the paper came by and took a quick flash.
They put Mallory on the front page, and it made kind of a splash.
He’s out there today, sitting stoically, turning away from the street.
Loving it that so many coaxers are offering him a come-on-down-treat.

Little Burrito

Little Burrito
  You're quite a lass
Please don't stumble
  You might break your -- last
  set of ankles you'll ever have

Oh, Little Burrito
  You're full of class
Much better to have that
  than a great big ole -- tank of gas

Little Burrito 
  Please stay on the grass
I wouldn't want to have to whack you
  right there in your -- spyglass

Well, little burrito
  We've managed to amass
a whole bevy of gawkers, just-a
  hopin' to read the word -- BASS

Wheat

It’s facile to turn your back on the turmoil
to walk away from the disarray
forego the risks of reaching out 
into the morass to hands that 
might be holding deadly daggers
Separating the wheat from 
the chaff can be a challenge
the stalkers and gawkers
from the sincere merely 
searching for a kindred soul 
with whom to share their 
dreams that drive them on 
for one more day and another after that
though they’ve known nothing but darkness 
the hopes they desperately hold onto
as they shiver in an icy sea of melancholy
This screen my window to the world
in all its ugliness and glory
my only means of sharing my story
My wallet empty and my prospects few
these paltry words all I have to offer you

• Short Gawkers Poems
• Famous Gawkers Poems
• Best Gawkers Poems
• Read Gawkers Poems
• Long Gawkers Poems
• Gawkers Quotes