The white man
In Algarve, I met the world's tallest poet
blessedly free of athletic prowess and
dressed for a warmer clime, perhaps Swiss
or some other country nearby
Alas, he suffered from high education and
tended to overlook people, which, in his
case was understandable, but he had
a great sense of irony
He spoke French to my wife, who came
into my study to tell me she looked like
Sophia Loren, who am I to disagree with
a woman who speaks seven languages
The tall poet and I went to the beach
I noticed he was white as unchurned milk
people looked like he came from Mars
whitest human they had ever seen.
One day, he disappeared, going back to
Swiss where people tend to wear solid
shoes, but I remember he recited a few
poems, full of wonderous thoughts.
I was thrilled to what the handsome gondolier wore
black and white striped shirt, straw hat,
red bow dripping off back of hat….
like Sophia Loren films from the sixties
I was thrilled to what the handsome gondolier wore
black and white striped shirt, straw hat,
red bow dripping off back of hat….
like Sophia Loren films from the sixties
L-itterateur
O-f
R-emembrance
E-mploys
N-ifty
P-oem
I-n
N-atal
O-ccasion
Topic: Birthday of Loren Pino (November 08)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
L-itterateur
O-f
R-ighteous
E-xpression
N-icely
M-akes
O-utstanding
R-egards
A-s
L-ove
E-mploys
S-weetness
Topic: Birthday of Loren L. Morales (January 27)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Movie star eyes
Perfect caramel skin
Screech. That would be too perfect.
Change that to something pastier
Alabaster maybe
The monster in the mirror
Smiled with her green eyes
Vivian Leigh maybe?
She watched her face transform
But she added the caramel
And she looked more like
Sophia Loren
Maybe brown eyes? She suggested
The magic mirror was losing patience
Make up your mind it said.
Did it really matter
What you look like
When you lure a man to his death?
The mirror’s grin widened.
She patted her auburn curls in place
And picked up her cape.
She was ready for the hunt.
Written: November 27, 2019
Contest: Favorite Poem from November 2019
Sponsor: Julia Ward
How many names have you been called?
Angel, Angelic Angela all off them.
You've probably already been called
Leana? Hanna, anna?
I forgot where I was at
Lowen is not an easy one to be either
is that Either or aye-there?
Loren? Logan? Julian?
Lindsay Lowen is one of my favorites
monika lowinsky is great,
I love going down
and being Polish
or polished
or infamous
or famous
(yeah right!)
but I digress
I'm sorry, thank you.
L-et
O-ne
R-eader
E-xpress
N-ice
M-essage
O-n
R-emarkable
A-crostic
L-etting
E-verybody
S-ee
Topic: Birthday of Loren L. Morales (January 27)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
L-et
O-pen
R-hyme
E-ndorse
N-ew
P-oem
I-n
N-ice
O-de
Topic: Birthday of Loren Pino (November 08)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
L-et
O-pportunity
R-ightfully
E-merge
N-egating
J-inx
O-nce
Y-ou
R-eally
E-xpect
Y-our
E-normous
S-uccess
Topic: Birthday of Loren Joy Reyes (October 26)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
L-ight
O-r
R-ay
E-mits
N-o
G-ray
I-n
L-ife's
L-ane
A-s
N-ighttime
G-oes
Topic: Birthday of Loren Gillang (May 18)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
The poverty
It has been raining for days, but now the sun shines
the walls of the old ruin look whitewashed and with its pride intact.
Sunlight makes paucity look nostalgic, a whiff of the old days
when life was supposed to be simpler; a movie by Sophia Loren.
We go on romanticising time of need like it should be an honour,
and the poor are so funny they speak grammarless and happy.
Nevertheless, we give obeisance to the past, a ruin no one in
their right mind will spend money on.
Ah, but I was wrong, and English gentleman- if this adjective
comply, often it doesn`t- has bought the dwelling, plans to
keep its front so it will be an old looking new house and will
live with a churning cement-mixer for weeks.
Whatever happens in the future is none of my business
today is a beautiful morning.
L-ong rain annoys not Loren,
O-btruding chill can't dim the light;
R-ealizing they disappear
E-very twenty-fifth September
N-ight.
N-ifty nice affair continues
U-ntil next dawn to be broken;
Y-es, she's truly undaunted,
D-eluge or long rain
A-nnoys not Loren.
It’s mellowing around the corners of the moon,
The vision was clearer than the eyes could see;
The breathe was refreshing than the wind could share;
The light was brighter than the sun could give;
And the moments were fairer than life itself.
Alas, the past paste the present;
And the future fears its time.
Long has it been thought about;
And unexpected did it arrive like a sailing boat,
Boarded by the most beautiful but amazing creature.
Fluctuated from year to year depending on the weather pattern,
An impression was made.
I am but a writer with a blowing cup of penny,
And a heart full of roses with beautiful songbirds here and there.
Loren she answered to, wonderful singer she is but broken she was.
I am in love, yes I sure but same emotions she fears to be true.
Call my name and I shall appear,
Smile to my notes and I am yours as you water the notes with your voice.
Remember these moments now, and remember me thus,
For distance is measured in meters but closer it is than you think.
There and back again the writer wrote, as always he will, and the beautiful songbirds sang a new song.
Valentino , Errol Flynn such stars of the silver screen
Garbo , Bacall and Davis movie stars that all have been
Grace Kelly had such beauty Audrey Hepburn was the Queen
Bogart ,Fonda and and Brando got hearts racing in every scene
Pacino , Redford and Poitier ,James Stewart and Steve McQueen
Elizabeth Taylor ,Sophia Loren ,original divas unforeseen
Generations passed and so do they ,no longer to make me dream
But the stars that gave us so much grace will always be on my screen
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