Long Transistor Poems

Now in my time echoes
  I remember then
  my full days in a life
  when I was ten.
We lived in a shadow 
  much greater 
  at the gates of...

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Won’t you please take me back
To the brown couch at my Gramma’s house 
With the big gold-framed antique mirror over it
And hand me Grampa’s old transistor radio
Covered in leather with glorious knobs
That brought me the...

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Science can’t save you, neither can religion,
at least Popper and Niebuhr, philosophers and poets,
are entertainers, which is why actors and athletes
are paid so much. Thanks for the summaries.
I was teaching Shakespeare’s 92nd ridiculous sonnet
to my...

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It was like a whisper- 
My wife delivered the sad news- 
"Your grandfather was dead."- 
And so he was- 
Her eyes was awfully sad- 
Touched me gently on my back- 
He was old- 
The time...

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Sunday cockcrow nascent promulgate aural essays reveal,
laissez-faire luscious lustrous buoyant  raptures,
radio behemoth prompt to that untamed erudite fantasist,
me the one possessing rippled rampant penchant,
for titanic exploit extraordinaire beyond dimension heftiness,
 a stimulant patently innocuous...

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(*The Gift)
This here is a side trip, nothing more,
To our country home far and away.
Grandparents own one by the seashore,
This a gift, gramps in-law and mentor,
They raised teen/gramps, not a runaway.

Gramps helped older sis and...

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My childhood of the 1960's,
all those years ago,
feels like a Saturday in my
journey nostalgic.
The Cowsill's song "Flower Girl,"
their purity of song, of smiles.
A daydream streams,
of running in a field wearing
my Keds,
a sea of daisies and...

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He was coming.
He was coming fast.
He was coming to pay us a visit.
A brooding, lethal monster 30 miles out.
He was coming straight at us
and nothing or no one could stop him

Our house was on the...

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When I first saw it
	in the dark corner there
where none would see it
	hidden away from sight

dark green was its color
	in the darkness hard to see
with few bright glitters
	catching the light

smooth flowing curves it had
	without harsh...

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Clutching
The end of my Zebco rod and reel
As the cast of tackle is flung
Like a small knot of costume jewelry
Skimming atop the caramel-colored Grand River
Dragonfly rattling awry

The vibration tingling in the palm of my hand
As...

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My past sits on a shelf, in pictures, books and letters
Occasionally I take it down, to make the present better
Those youthful days back at home, when life was in full bloom
Taken for granted they slipped...

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We had wringers on our washing machines, 
And four dialed numbers made telephones ring.
Transistor radios with only AM, 
Vineal records to play, and you could stack them.
And, Hope entertained during our wars.

We had Jack Benny,...

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when Bobby Messiah 
the new kid next door
asked if I wanted to see his
Silly Putty porn collection
I know we were on the same page
It was hidden in an old transistor radio
of red plastic with a...

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was sitting in a crowd but felt so all alone
No communication, everyone staring at their phone
I just wanted to return to the life that I had tasted
No more electronic robots, I guess I'm technology wasted
Back...

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The flower children were in full swing, selling love, less woe.
I was not old enough for Woodstock, but wanted to go.
Hip hugger bell bottoms with navels peeking were the rage.
Boys were sent to Viet Nam,...

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We fesat on flesh
stacking the bones
today until tomorrow
in this garden of sorrow
sickened by sicknesses
only feasts on flesh can bring

behold the apple
the illusions disappearing
cleaner to the naked eye
filthy you
filthy me
we unravel
the truth
the tower falls

slaves to salve
an...

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Sunday cockcrow nascent
aural essays reveal
laissez-faire raptures.
Enigmatic silken piece compost ushered in by
trenchant trademark tremulous signature.
Doe-eyed instrumentalist’s strident brass ensemble,
wakey wakey for the pier gazing loiterer whose blasé
sashay amble’s out of kilter.
Maverick antennae on a ...

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People watching, on a park bench under a ripe sun, 
I sat, seemingly wasting time. My heart smiled the second hour
when I saw John, my father, in lowering clouds. He smiled back 
with arms that...

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"Negroes" and pork pie hats
white shirts, black ties
sweat stains under their arms,
even wetter, the pressed handkerchiefs that wipe faces and necks.
Father Abraham looks down upon his children
and sees the words "I am a man" over...

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People watching, on a park bench under a ripe sun, 
I sat, seemingly wasting time. My heart smiled the second hour when I saw John,
my father, in the clouds. He smiled back with arms that...

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Ice cream and ices, ice cream and ices
Get your fudgywugies here is screamed
Heard clear emerging from the tunnels
Under the boardwalks promenade shadows 
Loud and clear come good humor men in white
Ridiculous in their black shoes...

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My mother truly was a most creative creature,
And our backyard was just a child’s dream place to play in,
From swing set whose design could access high tree branches
Ensconced in sandy playground, purposed child’s own welfare
Protecting...

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Trying to recapture the joy of those winter days is difficult. School cancelled: sun shining through the sheer, white, curtains into an all too girlie room, the sound of a tea kettle's whistle,  the...

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By ten A. M. the presents had all been opened 
and breakfast had been served,
But there was still one more tradition of the holiday 
that needed to be observed.

Every kid on the block had to...

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I've always fantasized about a certain elixer
That has ingredients in it like Korn's twisted transistor
It just may be as hot as the ghost peppers on the scale of Richtor
The ingredients the U.S. Military still uses...

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