missing person poster
a familiar face
Steven stares at it
this child has been missing for over thirty years
Steven only saw one photo of himself at this age
He remembers staring at it when he was three
He was held by someone, but her face had been taken out
He only saw her arm
His father got rid of that photograph
today Steven is staring at this missing person poster
it says this child was taken from his mother when he was three
He does not remember a mother
This poster makes him nervous
He tries to put it out of his mind
but it keeps calling out to him in his sleep
An old-time poster caught my eye
In an antiques shop where I like to browse.
On seeing it, you might ask why,
So I’ll tell you, long as rhyme allows.
First, the colors pop and its retro look,
With a smiling man in an old-style hat,
Made me grin and that was all it took
To think, “Gee, I’d like to purchase that.”
It’s a transit ad from a dry-clean place
Where, for sixty-nine cents (don’t be shocked!),
You could bring in your hat and within that space,
It would be not just cleaned, but also blocked.
There’s a come-on, too, with a jaunty phrase:
“Perk and pep-up that old Fedora.”
Now, perhaps you will get all the many ways
That I love it - need I say more, uh?
the poet makes a big meaning in few lines
the poster makes small meaning in many lines
the writer knows when to make it short or long
The untimed snow rushed insulted against the glassed shoulders on the poster,
and they were made of paper, they were bare…
It cried, scalded, on the painted, colorful faces,
and they were made of paper, they were bare…
Its outraged tears transformed into tears of joy,
and through them they were still smiling,
not caring for the bitter cold,
in defiance of the delayed spring,
Because they knew,
It could not wash away their colors,
It could not cover their bare shoulders.
Another poster of a child holding her lost pet.
When I see them, man, the sinking feeling that I get.
Why can't pets just learn to stay at home?
Why are they always dying to go on the roam?
I haven't seen or heard of one happy ending yet.
This is not why we did love you ~
and learned to think the whole world of you ~
just so you could sneak out the back door ~
never to be seen anymore ~
except in visions ~ with a coyote glowering down from above you.
Plastic poets and poetesses very much love each other poems
Are you scared of ghosts?
Is one hiding under your toast?
What is that creaking sound?
Whoops. your poster just fell down!
Since Jay decided to be a poster child
He’s reined in his tendency to go wild
He’s quiet as a mouse
Dead silence in the house
To laryngitis for aye reconciled
The recruiting poster incited little Lee.
He could barely wait to shove out to sea.
His cousin joined too, because joining was free.
The recruiter told them how rich they could be.
Grandma McGee got a long switch off a sycamore tree.
She went after that cagey recruiter who started to flee.
He was terrified of this woman who swung a switch like a he.
But he stopped recruiting young men from the Family McGee.
One hundred and three priors
race baiting the norm?
the poster child for prison reform?
Music has always influenced my mind
it was something way down inside
my musical girls I would see every night
full-size posters on bedroom, I could confide
Olivia Newton-John following on 'Country Roads'
I felt 'So Hopelessly Devoted To You'
having seen 'Grease' on many occasions
so 'Physical' it felt 'I Need Love' too
Kate Bush rises me on 'Wuthering Heights'
such a haunting voice makes me 'Wow'
follow this beau 'Running Up That Hill'
dressed in black so stunning wets my brow
Debbie Harry made me always 'Dreaming'
'One Way Or Another' was of Blondie fame
'Heart Of Glass' stunned me to 'Rapture'
this New York babe made me never the same
This was me in late teens to early 20s
effected musically by my poster girls
even now love their voices to hear again
just memorising fills me with thrills
(I am going back in time to write a poem about my music collection that affected your life growing up and they were my poster girls.)
.
damn poems poster
makes it so more slow connect
a little value
be no example
each lived day
of what not to be
ocean meets brown sand
year-long heat like this skin
burns lying post-cards
This is the free and public domain Art Calligraphy version of my new poetic/liturgical translation of the Heart Sutra:
https://archive.org/details/heartsutra2018
I hope you'll all find it enjoyable!
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