Long Gap toothed Poems
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I look back to the halcyon days
When Mrs Johnson,
A comely widow, ran fruitful
Errands for the new railway, and for
Our undeveloped district.
A frail, little maid in green cardigan
And sable wool hat for new mourners,
She read the New Testament
With zest, from Matthew to Revelation.
And she battled with the stress of inheritance
At the foot of her husband’s death in a
Civil war.
Her only son had died in civil stress. . .
Before then,
She was a merry image of festal seasons,
Full of godly gap-toothed mirth.
Her inheritance, from the ceremony of death,
Were mere effigies
With hearts of calumny —like cruel
Neighbours who gossip from dawn
To dusk, speaking no iota of truth in
January, nor bearing good witness in
December.
Among them?
Divorcees, viragoes, astute harlots, and
Celebrated proprietors of bordellos.
Mrs Johnson laments the presence
Of a blinding yellow equatorial sun.
Says she, ”Misery in equator courses
Across the waist of here;
Stress and agony have built adobes
Among us,
And the Harmattan has departed with her
Cold . . .”
In the pall of this agony,
Snakes!
Now, shadows of floods rise high,
Like the tsunamis of restless Asia,
The height of disconsolate mountains.
Grey elephants trumpet in trepidation
Sallow, ululating leopards break the skins of
Their drums while summoning their kinsmen
For a hurried parley before the sun sinks . . .
Poor Mrs Johnson is in the midst of it all —
Like an eye in its own storm!
Hey Daddy!
I got a gap toothed grin and that's a sin.
Hey Daddy!
I really need some dentistry.
Ohh Daddy!
I got a double chin and jowls like Gentle Ben.
Hey Daddy!
I need plastic surgery.
Hey Daddy!
I need a fanny lift, nose bob and a boob job.
Ohh Daddy!
I sure could use some surgery.
Oh Daddy!
I've had my tummy tucked and been lipo-sucked.
Oooo Daddy!
Now I look just like Barbie.
Hey Daddy!
I want a diamond ring and things with lots of bling.
Oh Daddy!
You gotta buy it all for me.
Ohh Daddy!
He's got a brand new car, a yacht and caviar.
Bye Daddy!
You sure have been a friend to me.
I've passed this way many a day
and wondered as I strayed;
Who had opened, what had filled
the gap within the crib's dark bay.
The opening small in the wall
at once so spare yet alluring
with tilted sides and gap toothed maw
which now held field mice burrowing.
The boards of red once formed a bed
for stored feed of golden maze,
these cedar shingles had sheltered
the abundance of by gone days.
The farm's gone now, no fields, no cow
long past its youth, its heyday
housing only bitter sweet and
memories of corn cobs and play.
Yet, here it stands, as I go by,
and so quietly it brings to me;
the lingering joy of laughter
the faint echoes of jubilee.
Legacy of Hope; My Dad
My first memories are full of your dear face
Kind brown eyes, edged with wrinkles, a mere trace
I can't see a frown nor fretful scowl, only a gap toothed grin
With a pompadour, shiny, slick, and black as sin
So pleasing and handsome, lanky, laid back stance
Graceful limbs, in motion, like an underwater
dream dance
I picture your gentle hands, known as well as my own
Square nails, clean, soft, sign language for, “home”.
My first memories are full of your sweet voice
Telling tales, laughing, and singing, you rejoice
About your love for God, for family, and of wholesome fun
The Sun shines brighter with every string you pluck, every chord you strum
Lighting up my life, bringing warmth and feeding my very soul
Never allowing the hard times, the bitterness, take a toll
My first memories are full of compassion and true love
My Daddy, trusted to save me from fear,
My father, bringing peace like the dove
From first memory to a lifetime, gifted with you always standing by
Unable to repay you but with all that's in me, I'll try
Taking all that I have learned from you, kindness, compassion, fun silliness too,
I'll hold your familiar hand as my face fades from your view,
My last memory of this man,
my beloved Dad,
will be full of hope, bittersweet, but not sad.
'Round here it's winter, cold as hell
Down there the chosen, a few lucky boys
answer the call of the Opening Bell
~ Spring Training in Arizona
They jog out to the field for the first time
That feeling of renewal, mighty fine
limber up with stretches and beer
~ Spring Training in Arizona
Back in the Heartland, north winds blow
frozen fingers, shoveling snow
as They job along and toss the pea
~ Those Lucky Boys of Summer
One by one they step to the plate
their first few swings like rusty gates
Then the base hits, line drives, begin
banged out by boys -- now men, with
gap-toothed smiles and devilish grins
~ Those Lucky Boys of Summer
February 15, 2019
Pitchers and Catchers
reported to Spring Training this week!
I passed this way so many days
and wondered on the by way;
who had opened, what had filled
the gap within the shed's bay.
The opening small in the wall
at once so spare and luring,
like crooked teeth in gap toothed maw
now held field mice burrowing.
Barn boards of red formed a strange bed
for ripe feed of golden maze,
and the cedar shingles sheltered
the bounty of by gone days.
The farm was gone, no children born
to pass their day time in play.
Just bitter sweet and memories
and old corn cobs which strayed.
Yet here it stands, as I pass by,
and softly recalls for me;
The true joy of by-gone laughter
and autumn jamborees.
All that was once America,
the farm, the land and the free.
It was a dark and stormy knight
who entered the castle unbidden.
Questing to rescue the purloined grail
in the dungeon's depths still hidden.
He met no resistance, no guard or dragoon,
his way clearly lighted by blinding full moon.
His trail of tan breadcrumbs was quickly dispatched
by hordes of blind rodents, their tails unattached.
Creeping slowly in search of the missing chalice,
his intent was to cause no mayhem or malice.
A creak of a step in the bowels of the bastion
gave pause to the steps of good knight Sebastian.
At dank passage’s ending a bright light shone
on the golden vessel being held by a crone.
Her gap-toothed smile and greenish exterior
made the quester’s heart feel ultra-inferior.
Witchy cackles grated, “This sacred grail is mine,
I dare you to take it if you have any spine.”
Gathering his wits, which had fallen to the floor,
Seb brandished his sword with a howl and a roar.
“Hand it over or experience your own Last Supper,”
he growled as he lunged out and full-force struck her.
The wizened crone dodged the sharp oncoming blade,
in a sinister move with Seb muttering, “Well played.”
In a flash, the witch turned the knight into stone,
then calmly drank tea from the grail with a scone.
A lightning strike plunged the night into dark,
the castle dissolved in swirly mist and a spark.
Echoing throughout the eerie blackness of night,
the crone gleefully croaked, “Good night, not-so-good knight.”
this spine tingling reaction that flushed testosterone from heads to toe
sketched out sometime from ~july or august 2012
and triggered a chain reaction
of wishful desires in overdrive seeing this aesthetically pleasing gal
in the summer of her full feminine bloom
(and yes, young enough to be me an splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian)
whose primary purpose comprises tutoring my daughter
born with cognitive plus developmental delays
and whose academic weakness qualified her since birth - or soon thereafter
to receive intervention to allow, enable and provide her with life skills
so she can become self reliant upon an adult
thus bringing this papa thru the aegis of said progeny
exposure sans young women (who seem prominent in social service field)
many blindsiding these myopic eyes with hypnotic trance
conjuring up illusions of grandeur
kept under lock and key lest detriment
comprises instructing requisite basic skills per youngest progeny Shana
the punim in question recipient of private lessons
in the rudiments of classroom ABC's
yet a quiet riot along the super hidden highway within my imagination
achingly longs to compose a poem for this righteous dignified dame
whose voice like melody ineluctably seduces me and athletic physique
goads this married father to attempt some organization of his awakened
dormant libido (bereft within thine marriage) toward some unknown outcome
without intent to convey other than a message of unequivocal charm
minus any additional intent for physical interaction.
(composed about eight years ago
moments ago this poem underwent
slight poetic surgical face lift
modifications by this bro)
this spine tingling reaction,
sans flushed testosterone
from heads to toe
sketched out sometime
from ~july or august 2012 or so
and (just now) triggered chain reaction for roe
man tick undulations i.e. wishful desires slow
lee shifting (in seconds flat)
from neutral to overdrive
exceeding speedometer limit maximum
nearly attaining speed of light quo
shunt seeing an aesthetically pleasing chic chick
in the summer of full feminine bloom
envisioning plunging hot rod
into her lubricated derrick
(and yes, young enough
to beget me via coital fling
a splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian),
who doth wanna swing
like a boyish chap
at prime love making time zing,
with thee, whose primary purpose comprised
tutoring my daughter whose deficiency
with language skills warrant
communication exercisesd
born with cognitive developmental delays
in sundry dis guised,
whose academic weakness qualified her since birth -
or soon thereafter meta morph a sized
to receive intervention to allow, enable
and provide her with life skills
even though patience thoroughly utilized
so she can become self reliant as an adult
thus bringing this papa aegis
of said progeny prances carefree like a colt
and via exposure therapy
comfort zones, convince this dadaist dolt
magic touch, sans young women,
(who seem prominent in social service field)
bear witness as thy Punim doth molt
blindsiding actions of tender loving care
these myopic eyes
with hypnotic trance observe flair
ring results conjuring up illusions of grandeur
spurring commendable utterance
of touche...here here
but self consciousness kept gleeful outburst
under lock and key lest detriment comb near
compromising instructional progress,
that could easily dis ap pear
into a sinkhole forsaking requisite basic skills
reinforcement ever since first year
Hey Daddy!
I got a gap toothed grin and that's a sin.
Hey Daddy!
I really need some dentistry.
Ohhhh Daddy!
I got a double chin and jowls like Gentle Ben.
Hey Daddy!
I need plastic surgery.
Ummmm Daddy!
I need a fanny lift, nose bob and a boob job.
Ohhh Daddy!
I sure could use some surgery.
Ohhh Daddy!
I've had my tummy tucked and been lipo-sucked.
Oooo Daddy!
Now I look just like Barbie.
Hey Daddy!
I want a diamond ring and things with lots of bling.
Oh Daddy!
You gotta buy it all for me.
Ohhh Daddy!
He's got a brand new car, a yacht and caviar.
Bye Daddy!
You sure have been a friend to me.