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Elinor Swanson Poem
Here's to the weirdos; here's to the wild;
Here's to the loners, the whimsical, the mild;
Here's to risking taboo land mines;
Here's to the principled, in troubled times.
Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2016
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Elinor Swanson Poem
Ode to Peanut
(by my father David Swanson)
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of Peanut!
Oh her eyes are filled with wisdom and her breed is pure mutt.
Her dinner is the contents of the kitty litter box,
but she's our darling dog!
Chorus:
Peanut, peanut we all hail you!
Peanut, peanut we all smail you!
Despite the smell of your dog-do,
Cause you're our darling dog!
She reigns as queen of poodles everywhere beneath the sun,
She's the idol of each dog and cat with whom she's ever run.
She has a spot of sticky crusted right beneath her tail,
but she's our darling dog!
(Chorus)
She likes to chew the gummy bits of all our underwear -
It gives her breath the same aroma found in **** hair.
She sleeps in Tabie's bed at night - the brownish spots are there!
But she's our darling dog!
Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2017
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Elinor Swanson Poem
Jagged trees eat the sky, hungry for its breath.
The jaw of the ridge curves around a valley throat.
As I descend down the steep canyon to the lake,
The sun drips from the east to the west.
By the water, the mood gentles.
A sunlight sonata plays.
Each ripple holds a separate sun.
The rocks above the water's surface match those below,
both wearing ringlet gowns of shifting animal print.
I float on the dance floor,
beneath the wild sky.
Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2017
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Elinor Swanson Poem
When it's just too hot for comfort,
and you can't get ice cream cones,
it ain't no sin to take off your skin
and dance around in your bones.
(from my Grandmother in Chattanooga, TN)
Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2017
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Elinor Swanson Poem
I trot into the little house,
the one without a door.
Turn around twice to settle down,
and plop my nose on the floor.
My attention goes up to the night,
to search it with my eyes.
I hover by each distant light -
Swoop to the moon - a dog that flies.
Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2017
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Elinor Swanson Poem
Love has been over-written
There is not much left for me.
Even so, as I fall asleep
I try to write a romance
On your back, in circles.
My feet between your sleeping legs,
I keep quiet to keep you near.
I want to super glue your lips to mine,
To be held until we are faultless.
I am tired of loving vulgarly
More, most, insatiable;
Common notions in my head.
I am tired of the bad poetry
That is loving you.
Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2006
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