From my English cottage
I can see America.
Éire sings, as it labors in my field of vision,
it's drunk on nostalgia as usual.
A great sail-winged albatross
glides across from one eye to the other.
The trip to Ohio
is a drawn-out unmusical note in a leaky
squeeze box.
From my Midwest window I can see
the top of a Walmart roof,
it has a beauty all of its own.
Morning and evening,
snow white seagulls fly in from Atlantis,
a dreaming place that only appears
when the sun perches upon
puffy eyelids.
In a twilit garden
(a place where paper roses
wrestle with living thorns),
time circles
seeking its way past another day.
The days hitchhike on my shoulder, I must travel
across the luna surface of my mind.
One deep breath should be enough
to push me just beyond the city dump.
Categories:
squeeze box, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The Friday that is here today
was here yesterday, of course.
That's what getting older seems to be, to do:
today was yesterday
was the day before
and before.
It's my weekly washday today -
weekly, but was here yesterday,
or so it appears.
Always appears to be.
Yes, so it seems,
and seems.
Time is a concertina.
Friday was a week from Friday,
then three or four days
before those days closed in,
closed in, closer and closer.
A concertina can squeal and whine.
(21 Oct 2023)
Categories:
squeeze box, allusion, anxiety, time, today,
Form: Free verse
Mom & Dad must have been primates
Coz bananas are my favourite foods
When it comes to stuff Jacko eats a lot of
For bananas they're in the mood
Whenever they passed a bush with vines
Something deep down inside
Urges them to climb up and beat their chest
Some primordial force to abide
Bananas for breakfast, lunch or dinner
With mounds of yummy whipped cream
Oh heavenly joy! There ain't nuttin' finer
They're the object of all our dreams
Okay, I'll try to get back to reality now
But each time I hear an old squeeze box
Get all excited and feel like performing
It invades my innermost thoughts
Sitting here typing while peeling a banana
Is there help for someone like me
My skin has definitely got a yellow tinge
Often hang from our backyard tree!
Mom and Dad must have been primates
Other signs are too numerous to tell
Obsessed by scratching my armpits raw
And honking my honker as well!
Categories:
squeeze box, food,
Form: Rhyme
Mom & Dad must have been primates
Coz bananas are my favourite foods
When it comes to stuff Jacko eats a lot of
For bananas they're in the mood
Whenever they passed a bush with vines
Something deep down inside
Urges them to climb up and beat their chest
Some primordial force to abide
Bananas for breakfast, lunch or dinner
With mounds of yummy whipped cream
Oh heavenly joy! There ain't nuttin' finer
They're the object of all our dreams
Okay, I'll try to get back to reality now
But each time I hear an old squeeze box
Get all excited and feel like performing
It invades my innermost thoughts
Sitting here typing while peeling a banana
Is there help for someone like me
My skin has definitely got a yellow tinge
Often hang from our backyard tree!
Mom and Dad must have been primates
Other signs are too numerous to tell
Obsessed by scratching my armpits raw
And honking my honker as well!
Categories:
squeeze box, psychological,
Form: Rhyme
© 2010 (Jim Sularz)
Heave Ho! Aweigh, the ship’s anchor,
Lads, climb-up, the tall ship’s masts!
Unfurl the sails white billowed,
all pray, the stiff trade winds blast!
Men briny from white-capped oceans,
Terra firma’s, a distant quest.
Feel the salt spray, stinging the faces,
of the ship’s crew, tossed fore and aft.
We’re compelled to sail the oceans an’ seas,
with a plumb compass an’ a ration’s tack.
Tattoos an’ a gypsy squeeze-box melody,
the gale blows on our ruddy backs.
All hands scramble, to assemble on deck,
for the Captain rings-hard a muster.
Churning waves in our rudder’s wake,
luminous, with a strange glowing luster.
Land Ho! A calm, deep harbor,
a smoke filled pub an’ a bonny lass.
But the sea’s, our only steadfast lover,
an’ she beckons, to call us back.
We stand proud to call ourselves - mariners,
Men without fear, we tame the high seas.
Bright stars as our comforting beacons,
fair weather with God’s given speed.
By moon beams an’ dawn’s faint daylight,
we’ll turn our ship’s namesake back.
Heave Ho! Aweigh, the ship’s anchor,
Lads, climb-up, the tall ship’s masts!
Categories:
squeeze box, adventure, sea,
Form: Ballad
Mom and Dad must have been primates
Coz bananas are my favourite food
When it comes to stuff this guy eats a lot
For bananas I'm always in the mood
The fact that when passing a tree with vines
Something very deep down inside
Urges me to climb, holler and beat my chest
Some primordial force to abide
Bananas for breakfast, for lunch and for dinner
With mounds of yummy whipped cream
Oh heavenly joy! There ain't nuttin' finer
They're the object of all my dreams
Okay, I'll try to get back to reality
But each time I hear an old squeeze box
I get all excited and feel like performing
It invades my innermost thoughts
Sitting here typing while peeling a banana
Is there help for someone like me
Cause my skin's definitely got a yellow tinge
Often hang from our backyard tree!
Mom and Dad must have been primates
Other signs are too numerous to tell
Obsessed by scratching my armpits til they're raw
And picking my honker as well!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
squeeze box, humor,
Form: Quatrain