Write me a white whimsical poem
With fairies unicorns and wizards
May all the men be kind and strong
And the grandmas never cook gizzards
And the children always play outside
Doors of the houses are never locked
Games aren’t on phones computerized
With joy playing ball and hopscotch
No war crimes and no school shooter
We all smile in the coolest clothes
Riding bikes skateboards or scooters
Happiness is what we all know
Looking back it was a fantasy
To live in a simpler time yesterday
Perhaps we can learn to be
As free if we dream and find a way
They fly on skateboards down the steps
That head straight to the river,
A camera person hoping that
Some magic they’ll deliver.
Yet these same stairs are used by all
For coming and for going
And skateboards aren’t made with brakes,
So there’s no way of slowing.
I sit and watch as older folk
And kids these steps are taking,
Convinced I may be witness to
Disaster in the making.
I've never been good with things.
Electric toothbrushes need a lot of thought,
Some honey jars
need more passion to open then I have.
Putting things together
is not my thing.
I break easy when mending.
I shine at midnight.
My hands
become as flexible as sea anemones.
Words look from my eyes,
or else I tend to fall in love,
with dead dogs, or roadkill.
By morning I am asleep
in my body again.
Skills scream and flee,
as I stumble towards
their small heartbreaking hopefulness.
I am good at twisting things together.
like knotty ropes and thin threads,
people come to me
(mostly the young and naïve),
Arrive riding skateboards through hilly clouds.
They come to admire, my left-handed life,
soon they turn away,
unconvinced
by my slack grasp upon reality,
with the way I insist that their petty wrongs,
are right ways to go.
I try to lead by example - by failing.
Friends let me off easy,
They quietly
cleanup all the odd bits and pieces
that I could not hammer together.
That list keeps getting longer.
I know I should apologise but I ponder at my fault
I truly thought that every cat had abilities to vault
Most other times he ran away when I backed out of the drive
I mean it's only natural a cat's instinct to survive
I'll admit I've damaged other things like skateboards bikes and toys
But this time it was different you could tell so by the noise
Now the kids won't talk my wife won't talk I'm really in the pooh
Especially when I made that joke the one about cat stew
I said I'll buy another cat same type and age and fur
But unforgiving voices choired "He had a special purr"
What about a robot cat immune to hurt and pain
No support from either camp only looks iced with disdain
Eight times that cat survived a life with luck more apt than mine
I hap to be the luckless one who snuffed out number nine
Well old Tom I'm really sad and regret I did you wrong
So to prove my worth when I'm heaven bound I'll bring a mouse along
3/4/2023 Free Submission Sponsor: Sotto Poet
The jolly fisherman
Went fishing for toys
To hand out to all
The girls and boys
He caught skateboards and bikes
Gameboards wrap tight
He caught several large kites
That whisked him away
To a magical place
Where the colorful sky and stars array
The jolly fisherman still sends out the toys
Around the world
To all the girls and boys
With shouts of glee, twin hellions fled
across the park while I would tread
behind them. Always it was me
who had responsibility
of them, who acted so ill-bred.
They wouldn’t heed one word I said,
and I would watch them as they sped
on skateboards, weaving recklessly
with shouts of glee.
But then at night, with stories read,
they’d sleep like “princes” in their bed.
And Mom and Dad would both agree
they were so sweet. . . All I could see
were imps who’d wake to cause me dread
with shouts of glee!
April 19, 2022
For Regina McIntosh's Your Favorite Theme Poetry Contest
A cardboard box tumbles
Down the dark and empty street.
Cold gray houses stand watch,
No life within, their voices stilled,
Their wide eyes vacant.
On the porches furniture shrouds
Flap and tear in the bitter wind.
Dry leaves swirl and whisper.
Do these sentinels remember?
Do they see a different time?
Surely they are waiting
For the children’s laughter,
The banging screen door,
The clatter of skateboards,
People calling from the street?
Do they long for summer -
Sweet, salty air blowing
Through their open doors,
The smell of beach roses,
The squeaking of a porch swing?
Do they recall a warmth of sun
Soaking into their brittle,
Cold, arthritic bones?
For now, though, they stand waiting,
Staring down the empty street,
Watching the cardboard box
Tumbling end over end
Along the dusty road,
Watching the dry leaves swirl
And spin into small tornadoes,
Watching for summer.
I could never write a poem about
Horseradish
Dust bunnies
Nose hairs
Rat droppings
A dead roach
Cow pies
Mastication
Silverfish
Ketchup
A dirty diaper
A car engine
Naval fuzz
Cobwebs
Vampires
Microphones
Skateboards
Nail clippings
Torn limbs
I say and then I do.
My neighbor is importing kids!
Broken arms and ankles are sure to follow.
The ragamuffin’s ruckus drowns out the gibbons
totally smashing my morning sit.
The cars arrived, a funeral procession,
each dropping off a hooligan to spoil the day.
I was the only soldier left at post;
refusing to sulk by hiding in my own home.
Determined nothing would move me from my peace.
The hollering became so immense
it seeped through the cracks of neighborhood doors
until peace was an unknown quality.
The skateboards with handles littered the lawns,
pray mantis’s with long arms reaching.
Re-homing sounds like a sound idea
until I’m the recipient
of all your garish garbage that you call kids.
Such a sweet name for these little monsters
and the squalor they leave in their wake.
hypbst
you need to stop spending money
on stupid street wear and shoes
Supreme, Jordans and Yeezys
are a waste of your dues
your closet is full of hypebeast clothes
that you will outgrow in a year
$1300 for two pairs of shoes is way too much
you spend money
like it grows on trees
and you don't seem to understand
that your money isn't infinite
one day you will regret all these purchases
you love cars
so why don't you save money for a nice one
down the line
who needs ten pairs of shoes?
not me, not you
so why don’t you choose
to spend money on things
that will actually benefit you
and not just the coolest fits
and shoes
you don't even skate
but supreme skateboards cover your wall
so stop spending money
on shoes you'll wear twice
and leave them on display in your room
For the rest of your life
you wear shoes, they're not just for show
still love you though
Yesterday
Hop Scotch
Yo Yos
Pin the tail of the donkey
Building skateboards
Playing War
Hide and seek
Skip rope
Tether ball
Climbing trees
Sneaking in the show
Delivering papers
Monopoly
Riding your bike no where
Playing ball in the street
Asking for free ice cream
Talking through tin cans
Building a fort
Looking at ant hills with amazement
Filling them with water
Drink water through a hose
Driving a pedal car
Teasing girls
Trying to sneak a peek
Cookies in school for a dime
Trading lunches with a friend
Staring at the moon with wonder
Today
Playing video games
Here we go poof
(From China with love)
I remember kids in America
at the Bank of America
in their baggy pants, baseball hats,
tee-shirts.
There was snow on the mountains
clouds in-pressing to get over
dust the sagebrush with snow.
For the life of me, I think
it was their shouting which
held back or drew the clouds.
They on their skateboards
taking turns with trick jumps
over the sign:
Absolutely no
skateboarding
or rollerblading
As if the freakish haiku of the admin made it tru…
There was more I would say but time’s up.
You remember Tiananmen, won’t you?
They are here now. So long.
So long Huang Qi.
The Tao that can be spoken of
is not the Tao which is.
Just off McCarren some November
(and all those miles away)
What if we all danced on top of the expensive cars
In the super market parking lot?
What if we all sang “Old Dan Tucker” loudly
in crowded elevators with suit people?
What if we rode psychedelic skateboards down dead man’s hill?
Would they think we were crazy or would they be jealous?
For children, summer is swing sets and slides,
ice cream or snow cones, carnival rides,
the school bell’s last ring as kids flee the school,
hot dogs at ball games and days at the pool.
It’s pitching a tent and eating s’mores,
then down at the lake with rowboat and oars.
Summer’s the chasing of fireflies at night
and telling of ghost tales in flickering light.
It’s skateboards and bikes and just feeling free,
a volleyball net in the sand by the sea.
It’s summer vacation in one’s family car
with stops at motels when traveling far.
It’s sitting on blankets, eyes up at the sky
while watching the fireworks on Fourth of July
Summer’s a caterpillar; we want it to c r a w l,
then turn into a butterfly, the brightest of all!
It’s corn on the cob, and ever so sweet -
the melon the kid in us all wants to eat!
May 30, 2019
For Sheri Fresonke Harper's Objectifying A Season Poetry Contest
Thinning hair, lost some weight,
Then, his fellow runners in the race,
Walking over him like old cheese cake!
Dragging anything out to do him in_
Anita Hill? Wow, yesterday's newspapers,
An aging,wrinkled pill!
Crackpots on skateboards, DUI's,
Flailing their arms, promising the moon.
Thinking ...younger means better!
These arrogant aging prom queens and kings,
Need their lips, tightly tethered.
One day, they too, will be weathered!
Panagiota Romios
4/27/2019
10:15am PST
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