Now that this football season is o’er
And the Bulldogs are champions no more
Still give Kirby a raise
And let’s pray for the days
We’ll play ‘Bama and run up the score
Steven Rogers was born in New York in nineteen twenty, a sweet boy.
A comic book artist, born to poor Irish immigrants, their pride and joy.
Wanted to join the military and fight Nazis when he was twenty-one.
He was little, too scrawny, he lacked muscles. “Just hand me a gun!”
Comic book writers Jack Kirby and Joe Simon pondered what to do.
They wanted to make him a superhero, and they worked on it too.
They arranged for Army general Chester Phillips to make his day.
He enlisted Steven in the super soldier project, right away.
As Captain America, Steven would have super human strength too.
Terrific at martial arts and hand to hand combat, a durable guru.
He would have outstanding stamina, durability, intelligence and speed.
Kirby and Simon ran with their idea, creating a fine comic indeed.
Captain America faced enemies in Japan and Nazi Germany.
His sidekick Bucky was as proud of him as he could ever be.
The first Captain America comic came out in March of 1941.
Captain America punching Adolf Hitler sold a million copies, fun!
Written 5-19-2022
Contest: Captain America
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Baseball cards and hula hoops
Baloney sandwich, Campbell’s soup
Howdy Doody and Mickey Mouse
Mamie and Ike in the White House
American Bandstand, Rock 'n Roll
Elvis the Pelvis, Nat King Cole
Pez Dispensers and Kool-Aid
Bedtime for Bonzo, Panty Raids
Oscar Mayer’s Wienermobile
Superman was the ‘Man of Steel’
Archie & Veronica, Mad Magazine
Skirts and Bobby-Sox, Jukebox Scenes
The Roadrunner, Tom and Jerry
Durward Kirby and a Moore named Gary
The Price is Right, Let’s Make a Deal
Hostess Twinkies – b & w newsreels
A Dog named Lassie and Rin Tin Tin
Yankees and Celtics always win
Mickey Mantle, Ernie Banks
Whitey Ford, Hammerin' Hank
Joe McCarthy and the Red Scare
Semi-Crewcuts or Slicked-back hair
The 1950’s weren’t built to last
Still and all ~ quite a cast!
The vac cleaner's union
had an annual meet
Electrolux and Oreck,
and a Bissell and such
And invited one old Kirby
for a rare vacuum treat:
To talk, (tho' they really
didn't like him much) ...
That rusty old Kirby
had a lesson to teach
To all the new vacuum
cleaners on the line
But he wasn't sure he
had the air to reach
The shiny-nice Dysons,
that looked so fine ...
He sputtered and choked
and spun his tires
And his worn HEPA filter
had started to sag ...
They mocked his pace
and his twisted wires
And laughed at his grip
and his wrinkled bag ...
Yet he stood up tall like
a good Kirby should
And cleaning his way
up that ramp to speak
Worried his message
might not be very good
For his worn, limp hose
had a sad, sorry leak ...
Still ...
The old vacuum cleaner
then addressed his own
Battered and beaten,
and down on his luck
“I'm headed to that rug
in the great unknown ...
So please carry on -
'cuz you really do suck!"
Yashi rolled her eye at her sister’s playful antics.
Kirby did not take life seriously at all, carefree, with no worries.
What was that? Someone in the yard? Yashi’s radar went out.
She began to bark in earnest, eager to save the family.
Kirby rolled over and played with her stuffed fish.
Was that a chewy stick? She ran, slid and pounced.
Come play! She barked to Yashi.
Yashi did not even hear her; she was scaring a burglar.
Would he be coming in the window or the doggie door?
Yashi barked loudly, hoping to rouse the family next door.
That old lady was a spy if she ever saw one.
She would have the F.B.I. here in minutes if she heard.
Calm down! Kirby said to her sister. Take a look at this duck!
The mallard was cuddly and soft, with a silly looking rolling eye.
Where is the other eye? Yashi asked, repulsed. He was obsessive compulsive.
He liked all of is things in order, and strangers eliminated from the yard.
A withered and separated flower lay squashed in bent stature.The wind silently erodes the remaining petals sequentially, with each pulse of the air.
A distant nightmare, tangibly manifested, the echoing warning from the past.
A trapped piece of newspaper married to a low-lying hedge branch, concealed from notice, dead from purpose.
An hourglass society, scuttling around in organized vice and engineered hypocrisy with time to dictate and money to distract.
A plague of opinions in this boundless possibility never reaching bedrock. A gash made upon the earth, a slow
puncture untreated in our hourglass existence we believe isn’t moving.
He was of John the Baptist
and JHS age,
when he was executed
as they were for faith.
He was Protestant,
before converting to Catholicism,
charged with treason
against the Queen.
Sacraments for him were as in the book,
“The Defense of Seven Sacraments”
by king Henry the VIII,
when king was the defender of faith.
Of opposite ways they went:
the king and Kirby.
True defender of faith,
priest Kirby or the Monarch King?
FORGOTTEN DEEDS
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Colin P. Kelly, John Basilone
Two Good Men That Should Be Known
They’re Now a Part of Our Ancestry
Now Fading into the Pages of History
Audie L. Murphy, Jonathan Wainwright
They’re Framed Images Now out of Sight
Kenneth N. Walker, George B. Turner,
John C. Squires, Curtis S. Shoup,
Joe P. Martinez, William K. Nakamura,
Manuel Perez,.Jr.,Donald Kirby Ross
Names Now Forgotten as Time Slips
Absorbed by the Sea like the Wake of a Ship
Who Were These Men What Did They Do ?
The Answer: Left Solely to You
Milltown, Shawsbridge in the 1980's...
When the sun had possession of the season
and tarmac was treacled by the temperature.
When we went to war with the wasps
and ventured wide eyed in 'the planties'
to the roped thrall of commandoland.
Back when 'mr freeze pops' and 'cherry coke'
was our sustenance against the beating sun.
When real music blared from ghettoblasters
and parents red raw slurped ice cold harp via can.
When shawsbridge was appealing
and patchworked in vibrant beach towels,
folks clustered in defeat of the sun.
Back when the Barclay had an arcade machines
and we cross pollenated each's bedrooms
to play Nes, Atari and Amstrad CPC 464.
Back when our longsuffering knees
were raw to the pavement
and rollerboots were means of transport.
When kirby was played and water pistols our means of defence.
Back when reality glimmered....
And summer shone with meaning.
S.J.C
I dreamed a dragon passed my way.
Who came to take my joy afar?
His smoky eyes and fiery breath
Could penetrate a valiant heart.
The hottest blaze from deep within,
Could drag fair maidens down with him.
When he came crashing through my door,
I found that I could somehow fly!
I flew unto the brightest star.
And there I found my strength renewed.
I slew that dragon's evil heart.
A humble heroine the town folks said.
But in my mind, I always knew.
As maidens hold on to their strengths,
Their joy inside will never stray.
© March 2, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Dedicated to daughters everywhere.
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Fantastic Free Verse
Sponsor Kirby Magee-Dittberner
Like rain drops, his fingers trickle over my skin.
His warm arms, melting my flesh to the touch.
The embrace strong and secure.
Locked tight together forever.
Eyes scanning my face, knowing its every place.
Longing to meet with our eyes, looking deep down inside.
Do I dare look away?
To stray?
No, it's too intense and strong.
With emotions like that of a song.
Lips beckoning, teasing, to play along.
The touch of our lips meeting.
Electric and hot, yet full and with a pull.....
comes the burning passion wishing for it to never end.
Let time bend.
Like a gently lit candle my heart turns.
To a place of no return.
Deicated to Kirby Magee-Dittburner
Kirby Magee-Dittberner
Contest Name
Joycean Jewels
or does it come like a channeled thought,
from the ones we left all alone,
before being brought forth,
from the place too, we all go home,
deaths draught...
has bought,
when i get through,
with naught,
like an empty Kangaroo,
portmantu...adieu.
thank you Anne Lise...
Don
You enjoy the bright colors
and brillancy of
fantastic comic books
Kirby, Jusko, Steranko
and the master Stan Lee
After entering the "Age of Super Heros"
You are enlightened
but remember
Archie is still published
(thank G-D for that)
It's seven AM and we're in the kitchen.
Elizabeth, 8, and Kirby, 9, her Portuguese Water
Water Dog who's never been to Portugal--
doesn't know he's Joe E. Brown, 40s' famous
film star reincarnated in a curly, black dog
suit, wearing Joe's celebrated, ear-to-ear grin
Elizabeth's in the pantry, 5 shelves up,
searching for a snack. The good stuff's on top,
except for 1 peanut butter Chocolate Chewy,
divisible by 2. The TV's on, bringing Big Red
Dogs (not black ones), along with "George
Shrinks,"a super down-sized hero for
Viewers Like Us. Kirby begs for treats
with teasing little barks. Elizabeth's Sprite
has lost its fight like her Nana in the morning
who needs stronger than that. She's
Granny Shrinks who needs 40 more winks
before peanut butter Chewies, Day-Glo
cartoons, and Joe E. Brown hi-jinks.
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