Louis Poems - Poems about Louis

Scots golfers do not 'golf' as they say in the U.S.A. invented in Scotland it's as they ought a sport the Scottish play the first tennis player known by name (Louis X) did not 'tennis' when he played the game even so I may one day bend my elbow consider the racket and give it a go looks like the language is slowly downward drifting and come this Christmas you won't see...

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Tethered to the omnibus, weathering storms ~ lean into it, hang on, become the wisp. As perception shapes and shifts, our eyes sting, blind spots get filled in; create echo filters. Bringing us to our knees ~ we hold on to our hats, on a turbulent day, unsure...

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From afar a sound of "Blues" so tender Like Satchmo strumming his trumpet His loud voice calling us together Makes me in verses break into yesterday Oh Louis...raise your voice to everyone Make the trumpet's call sound loud Chase away the fears of the crowd And those outside who think they're alone Oh Louis... now release the husky voice Nice and slow, neither hot...

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There's nothing better than a steak, Providing it's spiced with care. Whether ribeye, filet, or strip, Just make mine medium rare. Then you have your feathered friends, Either turkey, duck or chicken. You can bake or crispy fry, The Colonel says it's finger lickin'. And don't forget about the swine, Barbequed chops, loins, or ribs. If you slather it with sauce, You should always wear your...

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Gateway town, Mississippi and Missouri river flooding confluence, with its celebration of manifest destiny, its looming, iconic archway. Stainless westward marker, its culture flowed southward for influence within the lawn-jockey, pink flamingo neighborhoods of moral decay. T.S, Eliot, Darren Wilson, William Burroughs, Dick Gregory, Phyllis Schlafly, just like all my childhood companions who remained on the plantation. With all...

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US born Morris Louis with pure colour content to be Lyrically & on a grand scale suspend belief..imagination will not fail...

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Don't be fooled by the smile of a crocodile Who appears to be happy to meet you. For though his grin is beguiling, In his head he's compiling Various ways he is planning to eat you. A croc's disposition is hard to predict, It's quixotic and largely a moot case. The main thing he most often worries about, And what keeps him for...

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In 1938, boxer Joe Louis did the patriotic thing. He had an entire nation in his corner of the ring. Here, he was facing German heavyweight Max Schmeiling. Yankee Stadium in New York was the site for this meeting. Schmeiling was the symbol for Aryan supremacy. He was considered a hero in Nazi Germany. Louis was fighting for freedom and democracy. In...

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God gave Louis a rather long nose Which nose he used to zoop up Cheerios Better than a straw Though there was a law His big mouth he had to keep tightly closed...

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Fete Nationale finally came about on July 14th 1789 When the commoners stormed the Bastile so fine. Their crops had failed that summer, and it went to their head. They were spending ninety-percent of their salary on bread The Tyranny of King Louis the Fourteenth was not sliding by His wife was lavishly spending, and they owned the gun power...

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King Louis of France Was looked on by many askance Then the people said fooey to Louis And made their selection: Chop Suey Old King Louis got everything wrong Told his wife in a touching swan song “I think it’s for the best Get it off of my chest” Made his exit quite short, not so long King Louis in or out of doors Loved...

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French King Louis XVI placed his love bet On teenage queen Marie Antoinette Sadly, it is said, though she deserted his bed For frivolous Marie, Louis lost his head. Of Louis’ sweet Marie, it is our take She was a desserter who truly loved cake For proposing cake for peasants who lacked bread Queen Marie left a guillotine minus her head...

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now is all there is, that's the nature of the beast, relatively speaking advantaging 'those' who control time... now is a situation of absence and meaning 'those'...are us and our day to day routines slowing down, to take advantage of the scenery... remember the most wonderful childhood song, 'what a wonderful world' by louis armstrong... well, now is all there is and it is...

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A tattered Calico traverses the crumbling corridor dissecting a row of dilapidated sacred structures, each uniquely indistinguishable from the next. The wind carries an eerie refrain as it whistles through the splintered stones, white-washed to harbor their degeneration. There's a fragrant stench of wilted petals lying dormant in stagnant waste. This potpourri of nature's compost resonates from the marred receptacles lining this mourning path. Picket shadows...

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It has been a while Far away many a mile Not heard from you But now I extend my word How are you dear mother? Huku mjini Nakazana Najipanga nikutembelee nikipata mshahara Pitisha salamu kwa ndugu na dada Huku ni Vituko, Wenye Vipara ndio cheo wanapanda Lakini itakuwa aibu ikilia parapanda Hizi ni by the way, at this point kuna issue ningependa kuaddress. I got...

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