Three thousand chairs are crammed across the field,
A sea of cheap black gowns and melting ice.
We’re sitting trapped without a sunlit shield,
While sweat drips down my neck to mock me twice.
The principal yells names at breakneck pace,
A steady roar from "Aaron" down to "Zane."
I’m stuck somewhere around the middle space,
My rear is numb, my brain feels like pure pain.
By letter M, the afternoon turns harsh,
Lost in a sea of gowns forevermore.
Are we graduating or trapped in a marsh?
The kid beside me starts to nod and snore.
Three thousand names read off without a pause—
I only stayed because my mom said I had to!
I once disliked poetry worse than math
going back further – than taking a bath
Shelley was for sissies and so was Blake
reading their verse was a king-size headache
But then along came Eldridge Cleaver, a real man’s man
his poetry faced down ‘whitey’ and the Ku Klux Klan
Poems came alive for me then, I read Castro and Che
Lenin and Stalin, Ayn Rand and Zane Zen
So now you know why I’m a big poetry guy
I can write about why civilization deserves to die
~ and no one ever asks why
To Avalon! To Avalon! Twenty-six miles from door to door.
The Catalina Channel Isle: my destination off the shore.
We sail a wide and glassy sea, arriving Friday evening, late.
The Grand is seen from far away, guards the harbor, silent waits.
To stroll the boardwalk, drool as salted taffy’s pulled,
tour Zane Gray’s pueblo house, protect your lunch from diving gulls.
Catch a movie at the Grand’s mesmerizing, giant screen:
magical, this castle fort, not believed unless it’s seen.
Sleeping on the boat at night, rocked to sleep by gentle wakes,
row the dinghy in the morn, skindive for abalone steaks.
Journey back home Sunday night, late arrival into port.
Monday morning, foggy dreamland: school simply does not comport!
—————
(memories of childhood trips to Avalon Harbor on Catalina Island off the coast of California)
sitting in a laundromat
watching people steal from the dryers
wondering why people just up and leave their stuff,
i shake my head and get back to the new zane novel
it is then at the finish of chapter ten,
i hear a scream that will add to all that haunt me
wherever your stuff is, doggonit, you stay with it
my light load is now done
i place the bookmark of heaven at the beginning of chapter eleven
i fold the light load up quickly and immediately exit
i go straight to Lowe's and get that stackable that is on sale
no more laundromat for me
dumb ish happens up in there no matter which one that you go to
at least it does when i go
yes, God was tryin' to tell me somethin',
or perhaps, i was tellin' myself somethin' without knowin'
home, from now on, will be the ONLY laundromat where i will be at
All the times I loved you
Before my heart was shattered
Crying and screaming at the phone
Dead, my heart slowly beats
End this pain called a breakup
Falling through the endless pits
Gone, my heart is disconnected from the world
Hang up the phone
Ignore the messages
Just go to bed
Kill the silence, play some sad tunes
Let go of the hoodie
Manual McAuliffe hoodie
Night fall and soft crying
Means so much as the clock strikes 3 am
Open the cup of birthday cake ice cream
Please say he was lying, that this was an misunderstanding
Quiet down your soft tears that turned into sobs
Razor blade can't fail you now, right?
Swipe away at your skin
Tears and blood run down your arms
Under the sleeves hide even more white scars
Verdis quo? I don't know but I know I don't wanna be alive
Why does this affect me so much?
X marks the spot where lay my dead heart
You know how this goes, same stuff everytime
Zane, I love you goodbye.
Both Zane and I
stood, rigid with terror,
in a desolate area
of the old golf course.
My dad,
Who was emitting a
siren song for the
same rabid beasts that
killed my rabbit,
reveled in the moment’s hilarity.
L-ockdown
E-ffectively
O-vercomes
N-otorious
N-astiness'
E-pidemic
Z-one
A-s
N-ecessary
E-quipment
S-afely
A-pplies
N-eatness
T-o
O-bliterate
S-pread
Topic: Birthday of Leonne Zane A. Santos (May 07)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Zzzzz
Zzzzz
-Zzzzz
Zzzzz
Zz...
(???)
Zoe?
-Zzzzz
Zzzzz
Zoe??
-Zzzzz
Zzzzz
ZOE!!!
-Zz...!
Zane?
'Za,
Zucchini,
Zinfandel?
-Zzzzz
Zoe!
-Zz...
Zane?!
'Za,
Zucchini,
Zinfandel?
-Zaxby's
Zalad
Zaxby's
Zalad?
-Zzzzz
Zzzzz
ZOE!
-Zz...!
Zane?!
Zaxby's
Zalad???
(???)
Zoe,
Zaxby's
Zalad?
-'Za,
Zucchini,
Zinfandel
Zzzzz
Zzzzz
-Zane?
What's in a name?
Feel life's stern game.
Sense wild wild west
Harsh frontier fest
Browse as you see
Tales that sprang spree
Bites of lost sites
Zane Grey's old writes
Stories and stuff
Cowboys and bluff
So many years
Now age draws near
Like memoirs crisp
Time has flown brisk
Leon Enriquez
11 September 2019
Singapore
L-et
E-yes
O-pen
N-eglecting
N-ot
E-xcellence
Z-one
A-s
N-oble
E-xpression
S-imply
A-dvances
N-iceness
T-o
O-ffer
S-ublimity
Topic: Birthday of Leonne Zane A. Santos (May 07)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
L-ove of fresh air
E-xhibits major dislike
O-f dirt, smoke, and smog.
N-o fresh atmosphere
N-eeds dusty breath of the earth,
E-ven breeze is clean.
Topic: Birthday of Leonne Zane A. Santos (May 7)
Form: Acrostic Choka
Island, I can see you - distant fine pearl.
We drop harbor anchor, music greets us.
Leis are given by a native grown girl.
We walk ocean street not using road's bus.
Hostel makes us welcomed showing no fuss.
Time includes glass bottom boat and day's swim.
We watch manta ray, intrusive old cuss,
thinking someone might soon try to spike him.
Aviary sanctuary, slope's rim,
bison grazing, cycling city's alleys,
total living, sharing life to stein's brim.
So " manana," we will make more sallies.
We will charter boat and troll as Zane Grey,
catching huge fish, I can write book someday.
Ping,Pong,Pang;
Zing,Zong,Zane,
Sink, Shank, Shock,
Out Of Mi Mind,
Crazy, but Out Witted,
By A Double turned, trim
Peeling thought,
I can't make sense, Totally
Lost among that,
Bing,bong,Bang;
Thang, cause another
Straight shooter,
gave it away, but
Only shoots mi disasters,
play ground, Cling, clang,
clung, goes the rock,
inside my brain,
Ding,dong,Dang;
I'm gone, and stoned,
out of mi Gored,
but Sex Ready,
Cause you,know you,
want some,don't you,
Hahaha,,, can't have none.....
Carma Reed
11-13-12
Naiveté in younger years
And meager sense between my ears
What interested me the most
Were comic strips within the Post.
“Deep in Bengalla
Woods within the famed Skull Cave
The masked Phantom waits...”
Throughout advancing teenage years
My interest turned to social spheres
Again the Post is what I read
To see the people who were wed.
“Maryann Fulmer
And Nolan Zane Fullerton
Were married March 3rd….”
Turning the pages to sixty
I sport a silver-white goatee.
I still read the Post but only
Familiar obituaries.
“Nolan Fullerton
Of Whitehall, Pennsylvania
Passed away Monday…”
I keep turning the pages daily
Until the death bell tolls for me.
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