Short Overcoats Poems

Thawing Out

Hooks
holding
icy gloves
frosted hats and
empty overcoats
hang by tightly shut doors
winters adventurers drift
searching for percolated warmth
beckoning aromas guiding them
gathering greetings, thawing each other....

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we come and we go, 
we live an we die,
different overcoats worn out, 
by n by, 
you think its all done, 
one death and bye bye,
but no we return, 
cos the spirits don't lie,
return and return,
like the sweet butterfly...

thank you Vienna Bombardieri....

Don...

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The young lackey cries
For the glorious achievements
That featured his past

His dreamy head flies
Daydreaming of contentment
That he's always last

His present is bleak
With overgrown overcoats
Torn beyond repair

His future is weak
Without the thousand banknotes
That makes life all fair...

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Sebastopol 

Was it a dream
Soldiers
In thick ankle deep
Overcoats
And I had none
It gets dark early
In Sebastopol 
A blessing 
A tried to buy
An overcoat
Was arrested 
Sweet wine they sold
For cigarettes 
Sent back on board
Brezhnev 
Did the driving 
What do I know
It might still be
The darkest place 
On earth....

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Nation building

The blond warrior on billboards
of yore has lost relevance 
Germany is a tanned nation.
The language is simpler; if 
not Grammarly correct.
They sit in last chance saloon 
the old guard feels bitter
wearing overcoats and fur hats
Mercedes is no longer produced
production coast.
The frostbitten nation arises
the transformation is complete....

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Rivulets of rain run down my misty window pane 
All day long the cats and dogs have teemed down
I really need some sunshine on my pale skin
Non-stop rain makes me feel chilled to the bone
Drip, drip, drip, crystal teardrops fall from the sky
Rivers are swollen I hope there is no more flooding
Overcoats and wellies are worn by everyone
Please can the rain stop falling 
Summer sunshine you are welcome to come and visit us soon

22nd July 2015...

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Get it right

Yes it’s my body
so gaunt and so lame
In light we remain 
In spirit the same
Come back to regain
The torture the pain
No words can explain
Our path down this lane
And again and again 
and again and again
We are born just to die
cos the spirit does reign
the overcoats worn out,
step on the next plane
the harder the journey, 
yourself you can blame
you are on the true path
you chose and you came
till you get into balance
on the good side remain.

Don Johnson...

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