Short Seventy One Poems

Caught with the heart of a gypsy 
that longs for what says
'I'll never let you go.'...

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One thousand and seventy one days

Is how long we have to wait, you say.

I don't have quite enough fingers and toes,

But I'm still counting down anyway. ...

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my arm is tender
my leg is sore
hobbling and limping
shall I tell you more?

my ankles are killing me
dual arthritis you see
each step down
brings a giant frown

I’m falling apart
a pain in my heart
seventy-one
is no fun...

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a hug seems to always be welcome if the recipient is a child
older people may be more hesitant, but they might warm up
my mother was not a hugger; but I began hugging her when I was fifty
she was seventy-one; she hugged back at seventy-five.
worth it....

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My husband thinks Viagra is the best

Most men take it for the zest

But he takes it for his rest

It keeps him safely in his nest

Now he doesn't roll out of bed

Or wake-up with bumps on his head

He doesn't need all the fun

 For he's seventy-one

©   7/18/2015...

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They sat on a bog log.
eating some hot lunch.
And when it was all gone
plugged their axes into a stump.
Frog says to fiddler.
I won't let it go, son.
Seventy-one years old
it's on a long run.
Fiddler says yeah man.
but we're not alone.
Mustard on a bug
in G, Rock N Roll.

Entered in the frog and the fiddler contest.
Sponsored By: Craig Cornish.
1/30/ 23...

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The tracks long abandoned now
  weeds growing between their rails
tracks that once brought sheep and cows
  thousands of workers with lunch pails

The stockyards closed 'bout seventy-one
  technology spelling their doom
Buried beneath those acres of grounds
  stories of blood and guts and passions bloomed

A spectacle they were to see
  Their niche in history sure to be...

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I am seventy-one
I could die at any second.
I tell this to my nurse.
She says “stop!”
She calls me silly.
I am seventy-one.
I like it.

I had a peanut butter cup and creamed soda for breakfast I say.
the nurse does not respond.
I am sure I am a diabetic I tell her.
I have ballooned up like a fat sow these last few years.
She laughs.
“Stop it! “She says.
“You forgot to call me silly,” I tell her....

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The weirdest of the weird often crawl out of the woodwork
onto pages and call themselves poems. The poets barely claiming them.
The Raven was one of those.

The strangest of the weirdest of the weird are remembered for centuries.
Poe’s poetry is being studied and revered today, 
two hundred and seventy-one years after his supposed death.

Poe will never die, thanks to The Raven and the Tell-Tale Heart....

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If you ask me why I rhyme 
It’s  inspired by John Prine
Heard that first album in seventy-one
only six and saw them having fun
Laughing, crying and singing along
knew the words to all his songs 
Didn’t know all the meanings
but I joined in with the singing
Grownups thought it was cute 
and knew I couldn’t compute
Devastated to learn Sam Stone’s monkey didn’t exist 
when I turned in my Christmas list!...

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you walked into my world
wearing a cast 
warm witty greeting
my third grade class
joseph medill school
nineteen hundred seventy one
the movie sounder debut
down town chicago
sensitive timid and shy was i
you were a rainbow
quite noble to my eye
a spoken chalice my heart ran
my soul escaped it seems 
landing right into 
my future hopes 
my future dreams
ah as i awakened 
wise and free 
you were within 
the wonder of me...

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Time Conquers All
By: Miracle Man
7/1/2020

Neath the Pin Oak’s shadow i boldly stood,
observing abstract pictures on the ground.
A tree Dad planted during my childhood,
seventy one years later and we're still around.

I think of Squirrels it’s Acorns have raised,
It’s rotting trunk and Screech Owls nesting. 
Thinking back in time I become amazed,
at two tough old birds that time is besting.
...

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Seven Continents One Problem 
Seven Days in week and still not 
One Cure.

Give 
Give food 
Give love 
Give life 
To the unfortunate.

Millions of lives 
Are cut, short 
Because of all the so called lies 
That we have nothing to give 
Not knowing that across
The globe somewhere 
Adults, Children, and Babies 
Are suffering everywhere.

Seven Continents One Problem 
Seven Days in a week and still not 
One Cure....

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Michelangelo was seventy-one years young
when he began designing St Peter’s Basilica, Vatican’s Dome
Lying on scaffolds for hours a day, it was a labor of love
His final hurrah, a worthwhile sacrifice,

Millions of visitors have marveled at his works.
Each streak of paint was an experienced stroke of a master painter.
Michelangelo, the quintessential designer, working for hours
Bravo! He has left us the ultimate artistic masterpiece....

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At the doctor’s office
I spend time observing the others
They have no idea I am doing it
For I am staring at my phone, instead of them
Taking sneak peek glances.
no one sees me anyway.
At seventy-one-years-young I am invisible now
a daddy walks in carrying his three-year-old son
they are wearing similar attire
blue shirts, kaki cargo cutoff shorts, Nike flip flops
Child sings a dah-dah song in a joyful way.
They got called to see the doctor.
I see they run the same way too....

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