Wallace Poems

I compose my poems like Wallace Stevens

I compose my poems like Wallace Stevens
by walking the streets of my town.
But unlike the esteemed Wallace Stevens,
I don't have to memorize or write my poems down.

I just turn on my cellphone's recorder,
then slowly whisper my word into it.
But instead of composing gems, like Wallace Stevens,
I tend to produce just a drivel of shhhhh~it.

Poets Cannot Hide

Wallace Stevens said: 
"Poetry is not personal."
He tried never to divulge
anything about himself
in his poems.

Or so he said.
But, the work 
is self-revelatory, veiled confessions,
repeated choices -- water, sea motion,
weather, the sky -- introspective isolation --
those silences and descriptive phrases
that communicate and characterize.

Human, 
no one -- especially not poets --
can really hide.

Flippin' Nora

North West England gripped
Wallace, Gromit full of quips
on everyone's lips
Netflix chiefs ask Who's Nora...
why was this poor woman flipped?

Emagi Wallace Liberty Bell

William Ross Wallace'LIBERTY BELL'

          __ ||__
         )          (
        )             (
       )________ (
               0

Wallace, Wally, Cleaver and Eddie Haskell

Wallace “Wally” Cleaver
handsome, well-liked high achiever,
befriended Eddie, so unlike him.
Golly!* Wally wasn’t given to whim!

Eddie Haskell
was a neat, slick, conniving rascal.
With his flattery and pseudo-smiles,
he spiced up the show with his wiles. 

Leave It to Beaver

*Wally and other characters use expressions like “Gee whiz,” “Gosh,” and “Golly.”

September 29, 2021
entered in the Clerihew 2 Contest 

Wallace

As Wallace lay on wood and blood, 
His own, his care he did not heed,
Thoughts of moors and springtime flood,
Purple glens, the heather's bud,
The truth he knew had been his deed.

The court had called him traitor thee, 
Sentenced him, like pawn, an object,
Against all England, no dignity,
A traitor to Edward? 
He was never his subject.

Thirteen Ways of Looking At a Tiger, Inspired By Wallace Stevens

I
Blades of grass slice past.
A striped assassin.
The tiger goes unnoticed.

II
Empowered by legend, 
The tiger grows strong.
Eroded by greed,
The tiger grows few.

III
Alone, he stalked, hunting prey, days on end.
Now he lies still, a striped, tattered trophy, alone.

IV
Two men.  
One tiger. 
One fate.

V
I remember two tigers.
One is ferocious, cunning, agile.
Another is broken, malnourished.
I remember one tiger.

VI
His

Imitation Is the Sincerest Form of Flattery, So Don'T Sue Me, Wallace Stevens

I know what a poem
looks like.

I know how to make
my prose look like verse.

A little tuck here,
an indent there,

et voila! It’s verse! 
or worse ...

a pale imitation of seem.
(can I have some ice cream?)

Ellsworth Wallace Haynes

This poem has been removed for publishing on Amazon in WW II in Poetry: Veterans Stories in Poetry, including my late father's who was a Spitfire pilot in the Nigeria Squadron. As it says at the end, "For free speech".

https://smile.amazon.co.uk/WW-II-Poetry-Veterans-Stories-ebook/dp/B07DGLF33G/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1528537495&sr=8-1&keywords=Rhoda+Monihan

William Wallace

WILLIAM WALLACE
Blindfolding Justice, lest the blind might see,
what tyrany's been passed down countless years
by those who make the claim, nobility
are all the ties that bind through death and tears.

What manner of a man stands up to these
annointed to the reign passed down by name?
No archer known to anyone who sees,
could suffer all, lest freedom is

Wallace

Scottish crofters from Wallace's time,
trying to make a living of the land
committing not any crime.

With God’s grace and will to raise
a family keeping it simple, yet nothing
was going to be “run of the mill”

An English King, a tyrant so ruthless and
willing to invade. Reasoning was futile 
it was impossible to persuade. 

He rampaged with vast

Sir William Wallace

Sir William Wallace,
Regarded as Fearless,
Military Leader and Scottish Knight,
Who like all men slept at Night

Wallace Hartley,Titanic Bandmaster

As I gather them to the first class lounge
Surely we will calm down the throng.
Of mothers in shock,fathers at a loss.
Crying wee ones encased in their arms.
Lifeboats not nearly enough I hear.
And so we play together as one.
The piano and cellos,the violins.
Kindred spirits fighting our terror.
On we play as the air becomes frozen.
Horrific screams we

William Wallace-1305

Fit like? Foos yer doos?	How are you.  How are you getting along?
Dee yer av the news?		Have you heard the news?
Aye ! Woppin aint it?		Huge, isn’t it.
Pitched a fit !
They sai e larst is ed
a noo, dun’t mik foon o the dead
Quartered to the Auxters	armpits
‘ung as a tallyboggler		hanged as a scarecrow
dee ye ken?		Do you understand
Bloody

The Life of a Fictitious Person. Walter P. Wallace.

So proper and prim in my Brooks Broithers suit.
( I loathe that Obama! I much prefer Newt.)
Decorum at all times, when in public view.
( Dwelling on feelings would render one blue.)
An Ivy League background, a young trophy wife,
(I prefer peace and quiet, an absence of strife.)
Success at all costs is the rock bottom line!
( We

• Short Wallace Poems
• Famous Wallace Poems
• Best Wallace Poems
• Read Wallace Poems
• Long Wallace Poems
• Wallace Quotes