markler barkey harkerly bibbily bee
silly billy bolder dasher delights me
giggly wiggly polygraphing Sheridan she
joyfully foyfully digging a diddily dee
yes these kinds of poems bring me glee
though they make no sense even to me
Arson not ruled out as Emco chemicals are being tossed all over the north Chicago cab company on Sheridan road where the contents of the tailor shop was being stored remembering Tony Boloney Anton Goracia North Chicago cab driver the many days nights spent after the arson murder of 8 wow 1984 Christmas Eve history repeating itself march 1998 fire blazes to cover the tailor shop contents amazing how to get away with arson murder of 9 use emco chemicals petroleum camphor the blazer and there you have do you sew the fbi questions what do you know about arson murders payoffs bribes during elections choose your fire chief watch the fires ignite and keep your mouth shut for 40 years eyes wide shut pay corruption I wore wires pregnant for the Fbi this covered up arson murder of 9 persons today I am blessed I survived the car bomb meant to silence me while they try and rule out arson again
Boris the brave kneels at the feet of the remnants of his castle’s gate.
The battle was rough, and he wonders now if he might be too late.
Where are the ladies in waiting? What of the queen?
The Wayfarer army was the toughest one the knights had ever seen.
Village is in ruins. The townspeople are probably in the hills or worse.
Boris kneels in confusion, and spies a tiny velvet embroidered purse.
There is a note inside, written in a hand he recognizes right away.
We are in Sheridan Valley, we left the eighth eve of May.
Two knights soon join him, and kneel at his left side.
They are also of the round table, beside him they always ride.
He senses them as they drop a knee and gives praise to Yost his God.
That he has spared the life of his pals Sir Frederick and Sir Bod.
Boris gives thanks to the gods that his lady had the presence of mind.
To leave this tiny bit of hope for him and her cherished purse behind.
He heads out toward Sheridan with hope in his heart that is pure.
Of course he is carrying the favorite purse of his darling Lady Cure.
Ravagers of Poesy,
spear points of denial
Mongol hordes of fancied verse,
spewing dense and vile
Free words they herd together,
to drive toward a cliff
Trampled once they hit the ground
—by verbal hippogriffs
(Buffalo Jump-Sheridan Wyoming: July, 2019)
Right on time, the snowflakes, under Chicago
street lights, smiled and pranced!
For on a blind date, I was wishing for romance!
The warmth of Cindy Sue's Restaurant on
Sheridan Road was such a glowing treat!
Oregano, garlic, sizzng meats, until that
momemt when our eyes did first meet.
The entire world, did indeed, a ghost become.
When first I gazed on you, our souls melded as one.
Here I was, knowing in seconds this was the man,
I would indeed, with certainty, marry.
I held no doubts, not any!
You graciouslly drove me home to Sauganash.
My soul and yours, forever, magically attached.
Of course, we eloped to the City by the Bay!
And in City Hall, our humble vows did say.
The fog horns of the city still do nightly sing.
You have passed and I still wear your wedding ring.
Thank you for a terrifically, artistic life!
So honored, was I, to be your loving wife.
In heaven, I hope you can read this poem.
And please, do welcome me, when I come home!
1/1/2021
4am PST
~Dedicated to my deceased husband~
On my way to work, the exotic night birds would ignite.
They'd cluster on the corner of Tenth and Sheridan Drive.
Frantic and brimming with bling and street charm
Painted in desperation, willing to give you anything.
The tallest one moved with a champagne confidence.
Flagging down thick wallets and throbbing tricks.
I nicknamed her Chandelier for her tacky elegance.
She'd be the one, if I could ever slay my conscience.
For two years I'd pass by that sequined corner at night.
Looking for Chandelier in a blue-collared, third-shift sky.
THE SECRET WITHIN
Eyes
- dark, seductive
Glancing at each face
with the hint of a smile
Body
- sylphlike splendor
Floating like an ocean liner
on calm seas at twilight
She is the center of attention
gliding effortlessly
across the room.
Men drawn in by those hypnotic eyes.
What secret do they hold?
Beneath that lush exterior
is a drag queen I am told.
Marion Sheridan
Waves of blue extend as far as the eye can see
raising high above the leafless treetops I dwell
a turquoise statue rests in the parkway
broken kneecaps and fingers but I don't know who
is attributed this honor dressed in flags of red
I close my eyes and imagine the battle scar
at Fort Sheridan where settlers dreams came true
A black bird glides down upon this glory
the sun starts shining through the clouds
and my thoughts wander to visions of you
The last of the bread bakes silently in the oven,
as feelings stir warmly inside my heart
The smell and the aroma, an invitation to greatness,
as the temperature rises—announcing I’m done
Loaves cook in the silence of a sweeter deliverance,
letters rising as words, their meaning devours
The invitations to the meal have all been sent out,
and responded to
The cook may go home, the feast now leavened,
has begun
(Telluride Colorado: 10:00 p.m. Sheridan Hotel, May, 1996, rewritten August, 2011)
While reading the ADMIRABLE novels of *Maugham
My mind drifted to the enchanting streets of Paris.
Teaching the plays of Moliere, my roamings started
Over CAVING *National theatre of Paris, or the Globe.
Next day reading aloud the poem “My luv was like a red…”
The captivating poem of the bard Robert Burns of *Eyre
Shifting to Dublin to feel the BOUNTY of *the Abbey
And the play School for Scandal of Richard Sheridan.
There are patterns and patterns of fascinating dreams
And I knew creativity and genius do face monolith
Like Mark Twain I had no unpleasant or stressful HOVELS
As is said daydreaming or dreams are derided zarebas
But can be constructive in some contexts of fine arts or science
Proved to be TRANSPARENT realities in the later years of my life
Visiting all the dreamed-of-places of my day-dreaming raptures.
But still daydreaming has not left me as I have still dreams of
Visiting the entrancing lands of Anna Karenina and *Nora Helmer.
+++++++++++++++
Date:2-4-14
Form: Free Verse
Eighth Place win
Contest by Shadow Hamilton
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