The space the distance the mind
where do i stand howe close am i
to carry my sins as far as possible
grow my brains clear of mistakes
and a place where i can pretend
so, i can just dance and let
my insanity take shape and grow
into the true moment of despair.
My true desire the fight within my fire
forests of lies deep voices and satire
lanterns in the sky fly my desire
what is it like to be buried on the moon
would my pain and stress forever rest
decomposed my bones will fly through the space
my lies will terrorize new worlds above.
Written: January 22, 2024
_________________________________________
I hear the wild cry as I sleep,
no roaming goats or gulls or sheep.
Tire them out, no trace of dread sweep,
seamless grass is combed by reap.
I heard the humpback cry whale site,
before the day turned into night.
Hunt for krill, girls, and young scouts fight,
boys, singing, as one, of raw dight.
Meadowlarks wave wings in the breeze,
hunt flies in the sun, fly with bees.
Breathe fresh air as lowly birds tease,
tweet, and perch on red tussock trees.
Meadow wrens chirp as streams dry out,
fly high to low till storms cross route.
There's no green shoots
to our romance
she liked Numan
I liked Howe
I feel alone now
when she planned to
leave the sit so aptly
All she had our meeting down to
was a chat
when I gave my best
of poetry and photography
and music
You were not as deep
as you made out
despite being a coordinator for Covid jabs
A RECIPE FOR FUN
Author: Dennis Howe
February 2001
Take ten
seasoned ball players and throw
in a large pinch of leather and aluminum.
Put the mix on a dirt field in the shape of a diamond
and add some green salad grass for color. To this, add
another ten seasoned ball players with a large pinch of leather
and aluminum. Raise the heat slowly to about 80 degrees, with a
few clouds for partial shade. No mud. Slight breeze, but no wind.
Add two pitchers of medium grit. Marinade some team spirit and
sportsmanship. Dice some Twinkies, sunflower seeds and chewing
gum. Sprinkle with water and soda pop to taste. With a yellow ball,
at game time, stir all these ingredients together with grounders,
foul balls, fly balls, base hits and home runs, and garnish with a
strike-out or two. Do not add sliding. Sugar, sweat, and verbal
spices can be chopped in at this point. Scoring is to taste and
recorded for future reference. Pour these flavored items
in to a large softball bowl, and then separate into
individual servings on Saturdays at Jaycee Park.
Finish with a handshake, pat on the
back, and a hearty..............
"see ya next week".
Stones
A stone will play inside my brain
to help capture a New York mile;
roll up those sleeves
treasure among the pier
Billy toast the mall
shadows nestled above the snow
Bury me below the shore breeze
make room from the outer banks
it maybe a good day
but its room the chosen mouth
light up a lucky
Gordy Howe playing hockey
make room for a lot to see
stones will begin to crumble
be outside my porch window
love has gained
it also has lost
Billy Goat Gruff
cherish those given moments
starts off as a pebble then suddenly a stone
covered the case of a disco
Chariots of fire
All things good and va-a-aluable,
all progress great and small,
all folks small and ma-a-alleable,
the Dark Lord ate them all.
Defied the constitu-u-ution
launched media attacks,
abated persecu-u-ution,
of Mexicans and Blacks.
Colluded with the Ru-u-ussians,
told 15,000 lies,
shrugged off the repercu-u-ussions,
discredited his spies.
Caused economic ru-u-uin,
impeded world trade.
’Twas all the Dark Lord’s do-o-oin’
and hence — this here tirade.
Who paid off shady la-a-adies
and claimed he knew them not?
He’ll rot for this in Ha-a-ades
and lose the wealth he’s got.
Who tried to pressure Co-o-omey
till Comey blew the lid?
Made Alex Jones his ho-o-omey?
The Lord of Darkness did!
Discarded Kurdish re-e-ebels —
that bloated, thievish leech! —
as if they were just pe-e-ebbles
on Mar-a-Lago’s beach.
I could go on fore-e-ever
with my remarks so snide.
I’ll call it quits, howe-e-ever.
Let history decide.
NB. To the tune of the hymn "All Things Bright and Beautiful" (1848)
eerie earth whooshing
punctured pride pulsing
smirking over corpse
damping drooling draws
rustic rally rising
ginormous gaunt growling
salient sydney scrunching
flowing yell fostering
fiddling frantic feelings
Paul Pyper's end;
once a fiend
now a friend
victorious earth vacillating
faddish fame dispersing.
19:12:09:10:35
~Note~ An adaptation of William Morris' "Gunnar's Howe Above The House At Lithend"...
Howe great are your lofty peaks, amongst hillocks traced
Free from foes and frauds , ink my ridges with love and freehand
Ones tail whips round between valleys deep, creating a landscape, a mighty sweep
Lancers move forward and runty stays close, for those wagers upon us will judge us the most
Ego and IDs freeze at first glance , six nations armies forlorn and entranced
Exit the summit, bring down the gate for thine has the power to command check mate.
It's the Motor City
Motor Capital of the World
Fordtown
Motown
Hockeytown
It's lying in shards
Like olden Rome
Love among the ruins
With an abrasive outside layer
Of exhaust looks and horrendous faces
It's Rock City
Automobile City
Arsenal of Democracy
Big D
City of Straits
It's a rough, tumble, sports purgatory
Joe Louis pondering
Gordie Howe wondering
Ty Cobb mad as hell
Joe Schmidt praying
What are they yet
Lords of dust
And their inscriptions
However characters
Written in the clean
Desolated by time
Ambushed by flicker
And apparitions of the past
What was at one time, a magnificent sanctuary
Standing glad and solid
Detroit, Detroit
Yesterday is still today
And it's tomorrow, as of now
I adore you still, hi and farewell
The Lords of Detroit, looking down
Never set foot on the sour howe just a Capple that moved on from that hill feeling the breeze looking out across another fearlessly before a family needed a motto I walk
You are the anchor that holds me in place
Without you my life would be just an empty space
You are my strength when I grow weak
Inspiration I draw from comforting words you speak
I find solace in your arms when I want to cry
When I'm feeling down, you lift my spirits up high
When I'm troubled, you have a listening ear
I turn to you because I know you will hear
In my darkest days you always look on the bright side
You see right through me, there's nothing I can hide
Your warm hugs and kisses lets me know it will be all right
That makes me want to love you more with all my might
A day without you would be a day not worth living
I write this poem as a token of my love and thanksgiving
Howe blessed I am to have someone as wonderful as you
In every way, you are all my dreams come true
Stop. wait. no. why?
why can't i stop, i cry
I cry out your name in my dark and dismal room
waiting for you to end this gloom
inside my heart and inside my head
all i can do is cry before bed
why did you leave and why were you taken from me
it wasn't your time but you had to leave
you fought and fought and i love you for that
but all i can think now is where are you at?
are you happy are you safe are you happier now?
I tried to cope but i didn't know how
i miss you so much you could never guess
sometimes i still cry and find myself a mess
but im ok and ill be alright
just give me some time cause ill need to fight
this anger this hurt and agony and hate
but ill pull through and learn to accept this fate
I love you and will see you again someday
I know you watch over me always yes today
we will meet up again though i don't know where
i know when i pass you will be there
For my grandmother Susan Lavinia Howe
I be frum brooklin
And I bee edumacatid reel goode
En iff uz wanna bee sefistikated lic mee
end Gawd weil bee wit uz
en ween u finde Hiem
asc Him 2 drope buy me's.
“You guys are full of exercise” – nonsense
even after she has finished
scolding Kyle for laying down his head
“Not bored, just sleepy”
I don’t blame him,
Calculus sucks
and now CRAZY Mrs. Howe walks in,
crowing, breathless, sharing new information
buying me time to record the events
but alas! even now we check homework.
Say, yo!...Wuz up?
See my 'homies"?
I'll take a' cup
Of dat dare cofee stuf,
Long as it got whiskey
I'd bee happie shore enuff,
Acrostic? Who dat be?
Sum kinna' medicine?
Cinquin? Who dat dare,
U troow around dem big ol' woords,
I cant evan spill,
Iz gittin' me a complex,
Oh, what da hell...
So shoe me howe brite you iz,
An' I'll due de same to u,
That's all I gooottta say,
Cause I tink I be thru.
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