Quote By Poet: "Don't Let Books or Poems Become A Thing Of The Past."
A bookstore I can not pass up,
I need a new book I can read close-up.
Books and writing are my hobby,
even about a dead body.
My books come alive,
when a reader gives it a high-five.
It is great to hear kids say,
I love to color your big blue jay.
Now with eight books to my name,
life has not been the same.
I wish I had more time,
then I could make more of a rhyme.
It is everybody's duty
To see all the hidden beauty
That shines bright if you just look
Everyone is a big open book
That is full of different chapters
Some have pain--others laughter
So please read someone before
You think they're a snooze and bore
Or ugly not worth your time
It would be a shameful crime
If you pass up a masterpiece
Because your eyes do not see
A best seller, you just judge
Take a moment--do not smudge
The pages of someone else
Putting them high on a shelf
You might be missing something great
Come on, do not hesistate
You could lose out on a friend
If you skip right to the end
Not learning what's at the start
Take my word--give it a shot
With silly smile, playing laptop keyboard
keys, I relay tales of brief, college bliss,
where days, like dry martinis, swiftly pass
lips that pucker for life’s capricious kiss.
My roommates bring joy and warm delight, like
late night Cheeto-fights to break-up study
drudgery - some chaos can counter stress,
though it makes a powdery-orange mess.
While we whirl and preen, when on party scenes,
we've embarked on the classic scholar’s quest.
We're earnest lasses, who pass-up passes -
well, some capitulate - we are human.
But I'm tempered by shame, and remembered
love's flame - and nightly I whisper his name.
.
playing with sonnet
The 27 Club:
the strangest sort of pub.
Seems everything is cubes.
(except the ladies’ boobs)
Those lovely duck fat fries
are the exact same size.
The burgers are all square,
with centers nice and rare.
It’s rational to try
their 3.14 pie;
sliced in a perfect third,
the blueberry’s preferred.
The sassy gal with hips
brings twenty-seven chips.
I like to watch her make
a large vanilla shake
with cherries on the top.
Oh man, it’s hard to stop!
You’ll slurp her with a straw
and then you’ll slap your ma.
And you’d have to be daft
to pass up on their draft
with IPAs on tap:
no ordinary crap.
The cover is absurd
unless you know the word.
But speak up and be clear;
no twenty-somethings here.
----------
for the The 27 Club Poetry Contest
sponsored by Anthony Biaanco
written on 8/27/2022
Bless you, Lord!
I favor you, the Most High!
With all my heart and soul’s praise,
Bless you, Lord!
Your scripture speaks - I return the favor!
Bless you, Lord!
Can you hear my heart beat,
my breathless praise,
my adoration for the King of kings.
I bless you, Lord!
Your benefits are great.
How vast your mercy and grace.
Mankind has no idea
what they pass up.
We look to the cursèd tree,
to the empty tomb.
How great you are.
Bless you, Lord!
6/20/2022
Over burning canefields black soot ash
on an east wind past my balustrade blows,
and big white pelicans the riverine splash
their dive pouch longbills in the shallows.
Windsurfers, sailboats, and rowers in row
pass up and down in their wake across,
and fishermen in the Cod Hole below
sit reeling in their boats off Mykonos.
Beyond my Grecian villa walls of stone
a great bridge does cross the river’s divide,
and the Maroochy water’s gentle groan
concentrates my mind ‘twixt moon and tide.
When the sun is low and the moon high
fly a plague of bats just passing through -
sipping a wee tincture of scotch in my dry
puffing a wee willem on the avenue.
Girl, like The Iliad it’s all Greek to me
and soon a new life and bridge to cross,
but before the two of us become three
I write my postcard from Mykonos.
Beyond my Grecian villa walls of stone
a great bridge does cross the river’s divide,
and the Maroochy water’s gentle groan
concentrates my mind ‘twixt moon and tide
Written: October 1999
Always arrive last and leave first
Be present, but not the life of the party
Come bearing a gift for the hostess,
Don’t spill your drink on the sofa.
Eat the hors d’oevres sparingly
Forget not to thank profusely,
Give high praise to the caterer
Hear nothing you would repeat.
If you’re wondering, ask discreetly
Just pass up the drinks if you’re driving
Kindly don’t light up a smoke!
Look like you’re having fun
Make suitable gestures when conversing,
Never flirt with someone you don’t know
Only offer genuine compliments.
Practice your skills at entertaining small talk
Quietly slip away from boring groups,
Refuse requests to entertain the guests
Sandals, a definite no; loafers are casual,
Take some time with everyone present
Understand the social pecking order.
Visit the bathroom only once, if necessary
Watch your language, and,
(E)Xpect to commit one faux pas
You were invited, you are important
Zingers (dirty jokes) are inappropriate
written March 2, 2022
Life is a series of opportunities
~~ Every one you pass up is possibility lost!
written December 2, 2021
Would you instantly embrace love at first sight..or adjust your focus trying to fine tune your eye..maybe he's thinking poison she finessed her disguise..and she could be like I bet he tells good lies..and maybe they both have it all misconstrued..what if their thought process has suffered abuse..what if he's been sincere with no reciprocation..and her altercations with no prevocation..and they both have shown patience during mental displacement..in return were presented with bitter beer faces.. one in it for life other off to the races..what happened to love it has left with no traces..and now they could both be looking at love..but pass up each other because all the above..
Twenty years have passed since that last cigarette.
Tonight, out of the clear blue, I craved a king-size ***--
The one thing out of everything I know I’d soon regret.
Suddenly, my forehead broke out in tiny beads of sweat.
I sat quietly, staring, thinking about the suffocating drag;
Twenty years have passed since that last cigarette.
Years swiftly pass and the mind still cannot forget,
It should be the first to send up the signal, the red flag,
The one thing out of everything I know I’d soon regret.
I was a teenager when the Marlboro man and I first met
In a hole-in-the-wall café where we teens danced the rag,
Twenty years have passed since that last cigarette.
At fifty I gave up smoking when my heart became upset
Over twenty-five years I have not had one, I must not brag,
The one thing out of everything I know I’d soon regret.
I know I would pass up that cigarette, even if I lost a bet,
Nothing would be worth it; the thought of it makes me gag,
Twenty years have passed since that last cigarette,
The one thing out of everything I know I’d soon regret.
Written April 8, 2021
He was the cutest tiger I had ever seen in a box with a mat.
Discarded and alone, so I could not resist the plea of this cat.
Also, he was free, and what kind of person could pass up that?
I named him Shere Khan Two, but he did not like it and said so.
I was surprised that he was determined to right this before we could go.
I prefer being called King T.B.Q. he told me with flash as it started to snow.
So King T.B.Q. and I ran to the car,
and I thought all would be well in the next scene.
Except he insisted upon driving, and frankly,
his driving was less than keen.
I tricked him into going to the zoo,
and left him there with a zookeeper, I guess kind of mean.
The winter snow lay dotted with prints
Print that let up to the patio doors.
Ahh, poor little cat,
skinny and cold !
Got a box for a bed,
And a bowl of food.
Well that cat must have thought
This is a Bed and breakfast,
Cause it came back
The next day and another.
Just a little food.
Now he brought his brother!
Oh my gawd! He brought a friend
Then that friend brought a friend.
Each day there were more and more
Now I'm feeding twenty four !
How sad to say but we will walk right past
a tattered cold man
Who probably is hungry.
Yet we can't pass up feeding a stray cat !
She dances on a dark stage for a sold out crowd
Afraid someone might see her and leave her
No one wants to be a part of the train wreck
Just watch it as it happens or slowly pass up the wreckage Getting a good enough look to have something to talk about Far enough away they won't be asked for help
She stands in the middle of the street screaming into a pillow Everyone can see her but pass on by
Ripley’s 2021 - raven atop the burial of masks
12/29/2020
I.
Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered weak and weary…
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.”
Edgar Allan Poe The Raven
II.
Robert Ripley would travel the world looking for oddities.
2020 was surely one he wouldn’t pass up.
The world came to the proverbial him, instead.
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To relinquish a trophy for someone else's sake
Who needs a win in their life right then
When you have a history of getting the win?
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To give up what would be easy to take
To realize the other fellow needs to score
While you only crave one laurel more?
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To pass up that honor without being fake
By genuinely setting your own need aside
Helping someone else to crest the tide?
Ever wonder what difference it might make
To learn the value of being opaque?
While seeing another enjoy the limelight
You might gain for yourself a valuable insight.
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