Long Chalks Poems

Dad is that you?    What are you doing there in the mirror?

I am trying to shave and I don’t need any help.

Do they shave in heaven or is it just cribbage and...

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On reflection, I find myself within these walls for having played the game of mans false testimony, I chose to take the blame. I asked a great teacher, one of so many, to share with...

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(alternately titled: tongue in cheek humor
cuz the following hyperbole
from this pencil necked baby boomer
without intent to badmouth,
nor start unfounded rumor,
who chalks, i.e. attributes gobbledygook
to funny bone tumor).

Impossible mission maneuvering around
soiled clothes pile
floor to ceiling humongous...

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In these a-dying days,
people are given mo’ grief news
Hope cost less than
a jug bottle of dirt cheap booze

While the crying game
is being played
over and over,  time again hence

Death has a new name:
Covid-19
is the ICU...

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Every night 
As I'm unwinding 
With the light
No longer blinding
Comes my plight
Which was residing
Out of sight
But only hiding

In the distance
I hear it creep
Though resistant
I cannot keep
As it's insistent 
That I peep
So To listen
Instead of sleep

With...

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Earth is sad
Flesh is sand
Shadow is black
My skin is dark.

Black man down
White man's town
Tweets and Hashtags
Protests and Blackcards, 

But the system is Prejudiced
Jury men in white ridged caps and black cape cloaks-
take sides with the...

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"Just take this chalk," (so went his talk, 
to servants sent before): 
"And do not balk. When you uncork 
good liquor, mark the door." 

This way, the churchman planned to pass, 
when pausing for a...

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The demonstration which the teacher gave was simple
He asked any two of us to sit on a table facing each other
The he put a hanky on my partner’s eyes 
Making the other one blind for...

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In snooker there is but one rule
To play your best at the crucible
Professionals play under extreme pressure
For the crowds joy and immense pleasure



Fifteen reds set up on the table
Potting away at different angles
Six different colours...

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No days, such euphoric, as these! 
Flashbacks passing through me, while I pass through that street
Wondering,to be scolded again, how it feels
Either the same sentiment of rage or the memory that heals
To live in remembrance...

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The Circus gongs excite the Throngs in nighttime Never Land –
They swarm to see the destiny of Freaks at their command,
While Acrobats step pitapat above the shifting sands
And Lady Fat sits down to chat and...

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customer service is not an alluring activity 
a dissatisfied customer is like Chucky 
their disguise is sweet 
until they speak, it's evil energy 
returning or exchanging without a receipt 
chalks-up a storm of dead-eye mis-fortune...

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The Infant won’t paint, cried out the Father;
he sensing an otherworldly genius 
in the toddler’s eyes.

The painterly parent bought paper, acrylics,
oils, brushes, chalks, and crayons…

not even a finger painting emerged.

The child steadfastly refused to paint.

The...

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Addicted to words, I take them on walks
I play Scrabble, Dabble, and crossword puzzles too
I spend hours with pen, paper, ink and chalks.
Words on my sidewalk, written in the soul of my shoe.

I flip through...

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Addicted to words, I take them on walks
I play Scrabble, Dabble, and crossword puzzles too
I spend hours with pen, paper, ink and chalks.
Words on my sidewalk, written in the soul of my shoe.

I flip through...

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ode to be the bigger person
to see the stupidity in another’s ways &
to decide on the route of complete indifference
before giving them the satisfaction 
of getting into a little spat which might
drain precious seconds, hours,...

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Favorite Artist, 
A romantic, 
A dreamer. 
Choice for a favorite artist, 
that would be, 
Me.
 
~

I grew up in a family of seven children.
As the oldest I found myself entranced and driven.
Then, other times in...

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let us say the summer that year
was a cliché to its lovers.
And its once open windows stood 
firm
against Prying Eyes.
Perhaps the silver 
smoke of automobiles rose toward the waiting sun that
climbed so eagerly. we didn’t...

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Onishe

In the mystic
silence
Of the world, cleans
By sweet-scented
Folds of the night
Spreading it’s power
over the sky

I watch your ripple
smile
Smitten by your bare
beauty
Which pants my
heart.

Mother “Onishe”
I salute your
immortal soul
In you all is in
And of divination
stuff
At your sacred grove
Pleas...

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Bay Area Nigh December

A tryst on a San Francisco trolley
that exhibits penchant amidst a glance,
for 'tis wintry time launch all, too jolly
save two turtledoves, culled cooed romance
left in steep devotion, neglects folly.

Atone solemn occasions ere...

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He changes diguises and identities
To throw surprises at his enemies
He is visibly invisible
In that his inconspicuousness is critical
forced to keep eye contact minimal
Enter the stone cold criminal
With seasoned vets mentals
The path he walks you limp...

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Dusts of chalks are floating in the air,

We’re bit  not cozy for this boredom to care.

Gladly stuck in this wooden peach room,

Surrounded with blooms who are obviously gloom.

 

 

I’m out of my mind...

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I saw Mary in Peru
as pastel chalks skimmed over
a gray concrete sidewalk, felting the surface,
baby blues and pinks vibrated with naiveté. 

The artist knelt 
each stroke given in homage
to the Mother of all.
 
I see...

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She draws the outline of her past
one of society’s outcasts
she chalks the mother sadly missed
the tears she tries to resist 
a chalk line mother is all she knows
a life full of highs but mostly lows...

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White chalks.. on the glossy blackboard. 
Black and White. .all matte and bored. 
Technicolour scribbles. ..the world explored.
Vivacious markers...splashes the white board. 

The aura of colors..the magical power. 
Light mesmerising...the dull in cower.
Crayons and lipsticks..palettes...

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