Long Tabs Poems

I met a proper woman in a proper pub on a Monday in Peoria. It was noon, time for lunch, and we were sitting stool to stool over very large burgers at a long mahogany...

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Prizes for Ultimate Sacrifices


    prizes for the abstemious  for abstinence  chastity ?
                 the countless...

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Sixty-eight and Sixty-nine
By Franklin Price
02/03/2022

In January sixty-eight, I was sent to Vietnam,
Was no internet back then, no Facebook, only Spam
I went to serve my country. Had signed the line in sixty-five
Going there to do my...

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Earth's diverse Trees of Tribes
mentor ecotherapy with me,
EcoWe,
echoing sighing resonant waves of wisdom
surfing through lunar waxing-waning freedoms
of humanly divine burning nuclear bushes.

Show me,
unveil We,
boundary wu-wei issues
weaving functions with frequencies,
tipping wild-flowering forms with full-color fluencies,
soaring summer's...

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Information caused qualitative culture,
some might say cussed culture,
but, whether damned or graced,
culture, or vulture,
languaged-left hemispheric information 
languished after right-brained exformation
self-regenerated human in/out-side culture.

Human culture preceded human race
and DNA races
and racism
and socioeconomic language boxes 
and hierarchical...

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Stricken with turbulence at about seventy two inches

Yours truly issuing a deafening rebel yell
bursting forth with such might
courtesy cooking under pressure
analogous to volcanic upswell,
forcing me quickly to flap vestigial wings
(at the speed of sound)
while simultaneously...

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It’s Christmas Eve, Babe
In the car pound
It shouldn’t be this way
Should not have been found

But I’m the lucky one
I am the thirteenth one
And when I got a scare
I hi-tailed out of there

But everywhere I went
It...

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Behind the theatre's foyer,                               ...

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Every year someone is always expressing
that Christmas is imperialist, and oppressing
people not of the Christian faith,
That it’s unfairly taken Soltice’s place,
that the historical Jesus was not born
in the last months per Holiday norms,
say ‘Merry Christmas,’...

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I met my big brother only recently
but he had been keeping tabs on me.
We were separated as children from a brutal crime scene.
We witnessed our mother's slaughter most brutally.
Two days we spent in her pool...

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Whisky Dixie was a girl from the state of Alabama 
Her mother was a housewife and her father was a farmer
She came into the world in a field full of corn
Her mother had been drinking...

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Our beauty is hidden in our words!
                Rumi (M. Mafi, trans.)

Our content in contentment
hides within commitment toward integrity.

Our beauty is...

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Every time you walk into my space, 
Everything that’s real about me,
Gets erased.
Somehow, it always ends up
My mistake—
Comatose I am,
to my own fate.
I have decades, years
Not knowing how--
Can I fix this ever,
 If not now?
Every...

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There was man named Garrison,
and he lived the good life,
flush with that big trust-fund money,
he hungered for the night,
for booze and bodies tight,
the finest clubs were his domain,
his bar tabs were truly insane,
his one-night stands...

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To me, a Man-child is an adult male who acts like a child: immature, lazy, unkempt, idiotic, silly, annoying etc. Usually it is someone you either work with or live with. This poem is a...

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darkness, like Jonah 
held in the belly of the whale,
the end of a world;
closed-in time in dark spaces -
gives one, a hell of a time to think 

in the belly of the whale 
grew a...

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There is a spirit that watches over you
    In the daylight hours, and nightime too.

    You may not think that they are there
     But there...

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"The Value of Reading"

messages impressed
upon the secret keepers.
when is late too late?
to divulge the truth?

"I know this is a shock"
arrives far too late 
when it is anticipated
by the writer pundit 

keeping tabs
on runnaway horses 
trained...

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Répéter Depuis le Début 
The Pink Studio, by Henri Matisse, 1911.

Perception fuses like melted rose quartz,
fuses on the lens of Matisse’s puzzled eyes
like the naiveté of childhood returned to age. 
Melted images rose in two...

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A Parody for Soupers based on the song, 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town.'

You better not shout
You better not sigh
You better not pout
I'm telling you why...
PS Admin is makin' the rounds
They are bound
to be making...

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Today’s a day that’s supposedly filled with political rhapsody/
Yet I sit down and write these words in full spiritual apathy/
I rather be electing a leader whose ideas can capture me/
Chattel ghosts are after me so...

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I tapped into my messages; the gas 
company wanted a piece of me, and 
my ex wanted to know when the 
month’s alimony  would be arriving.

But it was the last message which 
caught my...

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What else but weight endless for devil’s due? 
And I’d need a few more tests to be sure, 
Grimace or grin, but I ought to endure, 
What greater devil was seemed like dawn’s dew: 
Was...

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From a derelict house, near the interstate pass,
with her cuff of chenille, she rubs a small circle 
to clear away grime from the cold window glass
Better to see now, beyond wooden rails, that have worn...

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I moved up on the outside to pass Bold Eclipse 
when this poncy young jockey bloke puckered his lips. 
Well I kicked well away and I picked up the pace 
and a divot of turf...

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