Long Stubs Poems

WINTER, 1948 [40 Saxton Street]

for W.W

The winter nights that pass now
are so unlike the winter nights
that passed before, that I often
struggle back in those suspended moments
when sleep grapples for a hold,
to once again hear the...

Read More

Courtesy severely receding hair line..., 
yours truly enveloped within morose mood

I (Samson incarnate) 
frankly experience zapped strength,
hence sulk and pine for salad days of youth
when abundant golden locks adorned me noggin.

Now in doddering dotage scant wisps...

Read More

I was an active and happy person, whose sole hobby was collecting treasures,
As night collects vast amounts of silver, with its precious moonlight measures.

I loved to amass unusual items, like first edition books or movie...

Read More

Lampo

At the train station in Campiglia
Within sight of Elba Island
Stands the statue of a mongrel
A mix of a something Highland
The statue shows Lampo just sitting
His right paw aloft as if to shake
And facing the train...

Read More

Edith had been suffering from shoulder pain
She'd developed a stoop and only her left shoulder would sag
When she went to see her doctor
He put all the blame on her weighty handbag

One afternoon she had time...

Read More

Jesus made a comment about where you treasure lie
should also be the place where your hearts resides
He did not equivocate nor did He mix up His words
He said exactly what He meant what He wanted...

Read More

The Barefoot Days of Summer

By Elton Camp

	When I was a child in rural Alabama during the 1940s, going barefoot during the summer months was still a general practice, especially for boys.  It was feasible...

Read More

Inter connected already my friend
Submitting to peer pressure and 
Responding to the Fathers Sins, who
Followed the rules and lived and died
As all the others had before

Watching children today, breathing our
Polluted atmosphere, chernoble, coal
And oil, gas...

Read More

2:01 pm
Cinnabon, California Pizza, Burger King
Let’s de-militarize the sea floor
So we can once again walk on the waters
Clear and still
2:05 pm

An infant reaches for its mother
Looking at the information monitor
“Passenger… you have a message waiting...

Read More

So, what now, we bow down and deeply appreciate
a few random lines scribbled down in haste
what a waste of our time, you expect praise and cheer
fame, fortune, recognition, a spot in the great hall of...

Read More

Tip toe tip toe
[[creaaaaak]]
tip toe tip toe
little white ankle socks slide up brown wooden stairs
one...two...three...four....five....six....seven...eight...nine...ten...eleven...twelve...
one set of stairs down
tip toe tip toe
light gray sweatpants sweep the floor
tip toe tip toe
!!OW!! 
she stubs her foot in...

Read More

Granules of recollection rub like salt 
Flailing in the fog of seven years ago
Deafened by incessant frog cries
Vines dangling began attaching to each other 
Drying river stagnated, slime slippery with algae 
Vigorous tree growth stooped...

Read More

Cuckoo Dancers

Discarded dusty beer bottle lying dormant on the tracks
Commuters await their carriage
Adorned in business like macks
Trees sway in gentle breeze
Capable of more tension,
Performing their shedding of leaves
Far too many to mention.
 
Pigeon jumps on pigeon
Mating...

Read More

Time To Let Go

A handful of paper and worn ticket stubs
So many downed trees and rainforest shrubs
Shredded and mashed into paper pulp
The waste o'er the world is enough to make one gulp
Each of these stubs...

Read More

written in octaves

Tom gathers broken branches
and stubs his toes on roots.
Tywhoppity’s rich bottom
is tidied up each autumn.
The ache and pain he stanches
to reap September fruits.
Tom gathers broken branches
and stubs his toes on roots.

Re-staking his best...

Read More

I’m gonna always love you
I’m gonna always be your friend
I’m gonna think ‘bout the times we kissed
In the pond or the tree or the willow mist
I’m gonna always love you…

You’re gonna always haunt me
You’re gonna...

Read More

 High-ho! High-ho! High-ho!
  it’s off to the pub and gig we go
 Willy Wonka ticket stubs in our hand
  on our way to see the band
 Climb the fence, jump the turnstiles
...

Read More

The space is smaller 
than what was measured by memory,
the stained glass windows much less 
vibrant compared to what glowed 
brightly in the light of back then.
The pews have been worn down 
to bare wood...

Read More

Wrapped in a secret day of thoughts, I pondered,
If I should overturn my soul, to wear it on my face as a garment.
Would it have unfolded with stitch and patch apparent,
Or perhaps its embodiment would...

Read More

I pleasure dove into my treasure trove
Of keepsakes and mementos
I snoop around here about every ten years
And am always amazed at how quickly the time goes

There are pictures and things, an old mood ring,
Ticket stubs...

Read More

My mind a thick fog, a thick fog so deep, 
it threatens to submerge my thoughts. 
I know not why, or how, or even who,
for the fog makes me it's puppet. 
It stutters and now...

Read More

THEATRE OF THE ABSURD


Puppets, all parts, perpetually working.
Tense strings, plucked, with novice fingers.
Ruby sawdust sparkles with the warm sun.
Puppets on strings, such silly things!

A play set nearby, a seesaw, those twins –
Hansel and Gretel, balancing...

Read More

A rhyme once written, filled with ecstasy and joy. 
A girl once smitten, with a lovestruck boy. 
Times spent in love, through the thick of it all. 
Memories I dream of, but I’m waking from...

Read More

My manuscripts are hers.
I find no solace in puddles, 
 no security in single, silver spoons.
She is there, always.
 
 My breath is not safe.
Her ghosts floats out in puffs,
that so go to the very...

Read More

Exit gate C opened up,
And the followers flood
Turnstiles overcrowding,
And fallen ticket stubs
A namesake for the estate
Just off of 23,
On the way to my place
In the southern United States
We've been distant, 
More than I envisioned,
But I...

Read More