Leathered Poems

Scavenger Hunt

                      Their feathered shields
                      like steel, shimmer in sunlight.

                     Gobbling, wobbling  on thorny feet
                     without flight;
 
                      foraging through leathered leaves
                      that autumn left behind,

                      acorns lay abundant, 
                      for hungry turkey's to find.

This Old Man

This world seen through an old man's eyes

Leathered skin both weathered and wise

With aching back and brittle bones

Still, unafraid of sticks and stones

Vision dims but memory's clear

Knowing full well the end is near

A victim of time, oh what a shame

Back to the dust from whence he came

The M - A - R - K

F
E
A
R
...  has a phantom voice
clinging flesh tethered bones
fumbling
 - yardage
uncatchable
losing ground
ephemeral scope
a leathered novelty
of jumbling alphabets
despairing formation
a semblance 
of hope
measured
a bit
a gram
a whiff of air 
... a seeker of the 
most desperate kind
?
... who is this mysterious 
forbidder of my s
                      o
                     u
                    l.
?
... who is this formidable monstrosity
that consistently [b][l][o][c][k][s]
? 
... who p>re=vents eventual re=solve and 
the gift of a PeAcEfUl m
                                 i
                                  n
                                   d!
?
W  H  O
?
W    H    O
?
W        H        O
?
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m
e
...

'kiss and tell' 5

.

                     Ding

                     Ding

                     Ding

                     Tap
                   tap tap 
   ‘pon mine leathered shoulder
            Whilst up we rose
                Mitt to duke
            And our other two
                    Waved
                  “Goodbye”
               when we both
      (az we still chuckle about it
               five years later) 
          meant in ourn waves
                  “goodbuy”




*poetic license y'all  ,)

Communion

I won’t be angry,
I wont get mad,
My face will stay pale and my pulse calm
I will remember
That God has given forgiveness to the devil himself
And I will extend that 
To you

I won’t let rage become
the stuff between my nerves
Instead

I can be kind
I can be giving
I can be selfless
And that will be my answer

I will let you take parts of myself 
Crack open my chest for you to hide
If you are cold
Take each rib and polish it
If you need something to grip
Use the splinters to pick your teeth
Weave my hair into cloth
Bathe in my blood
Goddamit clothe yourself in my leathered skin
Take all of me—I give it to you

I will not be angry
I will give, instead
Either way, I am consumed, utterly, by you

My Fear

I know that all good things must meet their fate,
but to die alone would bring such sorrows.
None there to reminisce about the past,
or to ponder upon the tomorrows.

No one there to hold tightly my frail hand,
or to gently caress my leathered cheek.
With no last kiss to soothe my furrowed brow,
no loving words given for memories keep.

No one to whisper a final goodbye,
or to pray for just a little more time.
No one there to dry the tears from my face,
as I succumb to the clocks closing chime. 

To pass unnoticed across the grey veil,
with unfettered tears and shuddering breath.
No one there to hear my last crying sigh,
as my eyes darken with shadows of death.

It Raced Red Seamed Leathered

It Raced Red Seamed Weathered,
                                  Moist Dry Weathered,
                                        Down My Track!

A Best In My Steps From The Box, I Sent It, Past The Berry Patch!

A Step, A Swing, Bust The Ball With My Bat,
                                          Hip's Turned, Hand's Tight, Thundered Smash!

Ooh, You Just Had To See It,
                               A Best In My Steps From The Box We're Leading;

Past, ... Past The Berry And The Gopher, .... Patch!

Watching Jj Play With Dinosaurs

Watching JJ Play with Dinosaurs 
David J Walker

The flying reptiles frighten me 
What if they come back
	What if they attack
What if a stolen egg escalates 
	Into another annihilation

The plying reptiles fascinate me 
What if feathers are lost
	What if we ignore the cost 
And act in fits of passion 

What if their leathered skin
Becomes stylish 
	Again

What if we killed them all
	For fall 
                  fashion

No Wait In Vain : Poets Meet

 
No Wait in Vain : Poets Meet


For decades I waited 
and you did not come 
to listen to my rude insertion 
finger a sound at back of my throat
and the vibration of my name

For decades I wanted to meet
a small mountain as I read her 
plain words in innocence
a bell in her Heart rang deep
with children running sweet

For decades I longed to touch
a struggling mottled moth
as he ached for new wings
smooth ebony cheeks
passionate with letters of adoration

For decades I watched for
a painter to mirror my songs
uncover a talkative witch who 
still trampled from place to place
broken shoes echoing my silent breath

For decades I wanted a smooth ride
where conversation was free of tasks
words on both seats of equal length
with ripe apricots for the scoffing
almond chocolates wrapped in red

So I upped my thumb to a veteran one
who read from his leathered collection 
notepads and pencils strewn about
space in warehouse oozed slivered glee
No wait in vain !

We Claim Sandy As Ours

Olivia Newton John was never ours to claim, and yet we did.
Because she became ours when she starred in our musical, Grease
An all American film, so it made sense to us. Sandy, girl next door.
The whole cast was magic; this black-leathered jacket teen musical. 
Reminding us of West Side Story, but less ethnic.
All-American, which is why we had to claim Sandy as USA born.
We knew better, and yet, forty-four years later, we still do it.
This is how arrogant we are, snatching and claiming those we love.
Like Princess Diana, who was certainly never an American.
And yet we brazenly fell in love with her too, thinking she was.

King of All He Sees - A Royal Digression

1066
Sad day on Senlac Hill.
King Harald takes an arrow 
Through his royal eye.
And that Norman bastard,
Duke William, steals his crown.
Though it’s embroidery, 
Not tapestry, tells the tale,
He finds himself the king of all he sees.

1297
Lord Warden of the March.
His bones well-sheathed 
In tightly leathered muscle,
He guards the Western shore,
Ensconced in Carlisle Castle,
And stalks the reavers’ trail
Through Cumbria.
He finds himself the king of all he sees.

1922
Mud-larking on the Thames.
A muck rake in the hands 
Of a common man,
Canvassing the northern bank
‘neath the trestle near 
Cannon Street Station,
Searching for everyday treasures.
He finds himself the king of all he sees.

Oh, Balls

Oh balls
foul tipped
slow trickled….
down the line

Oh balls
you whirling dervish
biting air…quick clawing
down and away

Oh balls
wood slapped
rising in an arc of cheers
falling in the leathered web
of tears

Oh balls
the games go on
and though I age
the heart still plays


John G. Lawless
©9/26/2021

My First Love

You captured my heart
Right from the first instant
Strong broad shoulders
Toned firm body
Lean and so tall
To me you seemed a giant
In stature and standing
But it was the details that got me
The small pulsing vein on your temple
Your mischievous knowing eyes 
Paved with tiny crinkles as you smiled
They stirred and warmed my soul
Your huge leathered hands
Capable of so much
But mine to hold
Your deep gentle voice
Every utterance precious 
You made me believe I was special
You made me believe I was beautiful
You made me believe I was invincible
You protected me
You adored me
You shaped me
I loved you
I worshipped you
I trusted you
I believed you
Now you are gone
You are far from forgotten
I see your legacy in the mirror
I hear myself saying your words
Doing things you would
The apple falls never far from the tree
My first love, my daddy

Tomorrow Maybe

Strong was the art our eyes would steal.

Long was the waiting for hearts to heal.

Meeting in strange and unusual places,

Leathered and crease-worn, fragile faces,

Swirling with music of wrapped invitations,

Migrating downward in lost hesitations.

Always the life that someone else chose,

Bodies unwrapping a stranger’s clothes.

Grins that we wore like gashes we tore,

In the flesh of our minds, unrestored.

Swore to ourselves in notes left on shelves,

That tomorrow is ours for sure.

That always tomorrow 

Would surely be ours, 

For sure.

Corporate Climb

Finally made it,
Thought I wouldn't make it,
Yet here I am just about on top of things,
Soon everybody and everything will be beneath,
I should make myself comfortable, loosen my tie,
Draped this monkey-suit over this large leathered chair,
Then I saw the mirror and had to adjust it and angle it just a bit,
Now I could see myself perfectly for I have made it to the top rung of the ladder,
My first meeting of the day will convene in half an hour downstairs in the basement,
But first things first, one more good look into this mirror, perfect, now I will climb on down this ladder and finish cleaning...


2019 September 10

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