Dylan was legendarily loud
He was a man larger than life
Every time he spoke his verse,
that booming voice stopped crowds on a dime
He didn't live long enough for me to meet him
But if I had, I know it'd have been grand
I would have given anything,
just to shake the great bard's hand
By: J.N.R Dutton
She was more than a footnote
In someone else's fame
Yet many people when she died,
treated her just that way and let her fade
Not much is known about her final day
But I'm writing this just to say her name
To say "Pamela, you're not forgotten, you're in my mind all the time"
At the very least I can honor her with this rhyme
By: J.N.R Dutton
Chi Chi Rodriguez made golf fun to watch
He’d sink a crucial putt
Then throw his hat down over the hole
and do a spirited dance around it
A smile overspread his face
a silent tune flowed through his veins
His dance inspired fans to cast off their inhibitions
and join him in joy unrivaled
Taking a sport of fiercely guarded emotions
blowing it wide-open
laughing in the tense face of tradition
37 Tournaments wins
First Puerto-Rican inducted into Golf’s Hall of Fame
~ put his uptight compadres to shame
He Was a Child Once, Too
He was a child once, too—
before the dusk outgrew the dawn,
before his little hands knew
how much a heart could carry on.
A face once lived beyond his sight,
then slipped away from memory’s light;
and childhood, like a fading tune,
grew quiet beneath a borrowed moon.
He became a roof in someone’s rain,
a little warmth against their pain;
he gave his flame so others could see,
while darkness kept a place for him silently.
He wore the years like a borrowed coat,
kept every storm inside his throat;
and though the world saw strength in him,
I know the child still lives within.
To me, that man is not merely strong—
he is the real hero of my life.
I love you, Abu.
— Zehreen
Moon, well rounded,
far more approachable
directly than the sun,
a severe Father – melting
with grading glare.
But your gentle
mother nature, willing to
overlook, hide and protect, to love
in shadows as well as light –
Able to ponder and choose
my best stars for safe distance,
having found less glitter often
more appealing, more revealing
than any impatient Truth.
In the fifties, I saved my dimes religiously
twenty let me plant one tree
Deep in a forest’s mystery
~ now a lasting legacy
Little one, you may never have known me,
but I’ve loved you since the day you were born.Though time and distance keep us apart, my heart was always with you,
in every step, in every tomorrow.
I was a woman who lived with love,
and my greatest joy was my family.
Your smile, your laughter, your future
were dreams I carried long before you arrived. Even though I couldn’t hold you in my arms, I held you in my heart — always.
I may be gone from this world,
but my love for you will never fade.
I watch over you from Heaven,
with a heart full of pride, as you grow, learn, and become the man
you are meant to be.
Be kind, be strong, be true,
and never forget how loved you are.
You carry a piece of my soul,
and I’ll always be your biggest cheerleader, from above.
Life may have taken me from your side,
but it could never take the love I have for you. You are my grandson, my forever joy,
and I will always be with you —
in every moment, in every dream, in every heartbeat.
Love always,
Your Nana ??
By Shawn Muñoz
standing alone in the eye of the storm,
he doesn't care that he's seen
as an iconoclast.
not afraid to defy conventions.
a non-conformist to the core;
strong sense of independence,
zags when everyone zigs,
leads, never follows.
he stands alone;
marches to
different
drum
The Archer Robin Hood
The
archer
Robin Hood
from Nottingham
Shire aligns himself
perpendicularly
to the target whilst notching
the drawn arrow from the quiver,
and draws the longbow’s bowstring to the
anchor point, aims, and then lets loose the shaft.
That flies through the air, hitting the bull’s-eye
to the cheers and jeers of foresters
in the English countryside, where
they have challenged him to an
archery contest, but
folly beguiles them,
rendering him
the outlaw,
Robin
Hood.
***
then ...
we watched
a world weeping
blood …
a villain's twisted hope
humanity's horror
steel like butter
melting …
strange birds in stranger
air - flailing …
sirens in chorused agony for
those whose voices
were silenced …
perfect azure vault, stained
with poison ...
breath of ashen
brutality -
the incense for an
evil anointing …
a somber search for
survivors -
for bodies, answers, hope
for God ...
death screamed at
the sky and
opened the keep -
truth tumbling into the
darkness …
two decades down, yet
it still trembles
whispers ...
waits.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photograph of twisted metal taken at backside of Ground Zero by Anne Buber )
~ two towers brought down -
hundreds of souls turned to ash ...
we breathe death … and work ~
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art borrowed copyright-free by the author from public domain files at FreePik / Picasa )
the towers burned -
billows roiling and twisting
into azure
an oily, angry monster to
thrash the morn
consuming two flowers of steel
raping a world of its
innocence ...
the petals fell -
colors fluttering
in the balmy breath of
late summer …
precious petals, rich with
limbs and lives and
loves, that plunged the sunny
splendor, screaming
turning earth to
crimson ...
the heavens wept -
poisoned tears
of mad malice, careless caliphates
crying ashen sin from
a foreign sky -
shrouding a free world,
brought to its knees … where it
found its greatest
strength.
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art borrowed copyright-free by the author from public domain files at FreePik / Picasa )
azure ...
quite sublime …
cloudless, clear and bright
I watched the birds -
the strange, colorful birds
flitting in the sun of
a perfect, pristine morning
taking to the sky in flight -
soaring, drifting, falling ... falling
from heaven, into the
hands of God …
odd they had no feathers - no
wings to press against that
glorious, sparkling September air
but beautiful in their way
in their deadly, dancing descent
until their screams
were close enough to hear
and the sickening
thud of sinew meeting …
pavement.
#neverforget
~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~
( photographic art by Richard Drew borrowed copyright-free by the author from public domain files at FreePik / Picasa )
Baby’s wail, crisp march dawn, sister Jay born,
a glowing treasure dawned that wondrous day,
since then our firm rapport has weathered storms
In depth, laughter, tears, how we faced wild storms,
sensing one and others needs truly born,
joint life journey, each true heaven scent day.
wry slant on sibling antics, close of day,
Jay bosom spar in sun, rain, wicked storms,
on recall, peak chapters in concert born
My homage born for each rapt day, Jay, you oust storms
‘Oft overlooked is the noble foot.
But please let me in, my 2 cents, put.
For, granted, it is so often, took.
Homely and crooked, though it may look,
still gets you there, that most noble foot.
Darrell Simmerman © 2026
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