Short Steamer Poems

Cooks tamales daily.
Using steamer crock.
Stuff wrapper dough....

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Summer’s afternoon –
Steamer was overcrowded 
Then came northwester!...

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sexy steamer stole matt,killagraph,cut in half,wish its that,feelin bad,bout what i 
did,in the craft,of my work,boys should hurt,screamin heard,there was a word,too 
absurd,to learn....

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I can’t abstain playing of this water-flow-air-soil ;
River arrive to my home breaking bank.
Kite arrive to fly me cloud by cloud
Fire arrive to burn it’s branch through me.
Fish arrive with net catching me
Steamer arrive to ride on me
Library arrive to me reading.
Ask myself, what's me ?
Me lost in dress of air....

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blue is a number
after huckleberry squared
formula for rain

orange is a song
felt in the crook of your ear
louder than buzzing

animals are green
so is every magnet
and the earth's moisture

all feelings are white
contained in brown steamer trunks
old moths fly away

black is an engine
unimaginable speed
then it disappeared...

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Can't be for an old Stanley Steamer
With Bernie my car is a screamer
With magnet en route
If you see me please toot 
It’s strategically stuck on my bimmer*


*This is the correct spelling for a BMW car or person.  Mine is a previously-owned (many times over) 3-series with 259,000 miles that we maintain.  Apologies for burning fossil fuel, but at least there is no depreciation to deal with....

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Seafaring Foreigner 

In steerage on a steamer with
Figs conceiving in Vesuvian soil 
Hidden in a pot of a sturdy trunk
Made of hope and adventure. Fear of
Sights unseen and joys unbeknownst
Of sons and daughters yet.

Hazy canyons of skyscraping giants 
Overshadow brick row houses
Hard at work, ethnic pride
Shameful bathing, worn-in
Clothing and nourishment
Beyond the return to 
Much worse....

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Up there it stands in its glory, 
Of old-time story, 
A blazing ball, 
All elements heed its call. 

At dawn, it rises from its chamber, 
Awakened from its slumber, 
It emits its light, 
From its utmost height. 

Nature's gift for the day, 
It shows us the way, 
After gloom has cast its shadow, 
After the night has blurred the window. 

It births renewed hope, 
To hearts that have gone down the slope, 
The treasure of summer, 
It warms the atmosphere like a steamer....

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I gently stroll along the shores
of stunning Windermere
twenty swans are gathered round
the old ramshackle pier
ahead the steamer gracefully glides
slight ripples in it's wake
the image of the fells around
reflect upon the lake
the vision trails for many a mile
a picture quite immense
superior panoramic view
stimulating every sense
blues and greens within the mere
glistening rays dancing upon
slight summer breeze to calm the heat
and carry the sweet bird song...

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