poet's room (29)
SAME OLD STORY
She said "I'm really not sure, exactly what you mean."
"When you tell me you're not sure of what you say."
"We'll fall asleep tonight, but the thoughts won't go away."
"I have no idea what you are thinking."
"Makes me wonder what you're drinking."
He said "It's really simple what I'm trying to convey."
"Don't allow your selfishness to get into the way."
"Instead, look outside yourself, if only for a day."
"It's about me that I am speaking."
"It's about me, for I am leaving."
So once again you're gonna' leave me in a bind
Sometimes I wonder if you haven't lost your mind
How could you ever think, you're leaving me behind?
I'm far behind because of you
I've given everything for you
Easy for you to say just what you've sacrificed
When we were living large, you never did think twice
But now the money's gone, may I give you some advice?
I've given everything to you
Now my time is up for you
....a common theme, it seems, when ravels come apart
....reality brings, yet again, a broken heart
....you get tired of always making a new start
why can't we tire of being tired?
you'd think, one day we'd be inspired
find a true path of desire
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She said "I'm really not sure, exactly what you mean."
"When you tell me you're not sure of what you say."
"We'll fall asleep tonight, but the thoughts won't go away."
"I have no idea what you are thinking."
"Makes me wonder what you're drinking."
He said "It's really simple what I'm trying to convey."
"Don't allow your selfishness to get into the way."
"Instead, look outside yourself, if only for a day."
"It's about me that I am speaking."
"It's about me, for I am leaving."
So once again you're gonna' leave me in a bind
Sometimes I wonder if you haven't lost your mind
How could you ever think, you're leaving me behind?
I'm far behind because of you
I've given everything for you
Easy for you to say just what you've sacrificed
When we were living large, you never did think twice
But now the money's gone, may I give you some advice?
I've given everything to you
Now my time is up for you
....a common theme, it seems, when ravels come apart
....reality brings, yet again, a broken heart
....you get tired of always making a new start
why can't we tire of being tired?
you'd think, one day we'd be inspired
find a true path of desire
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
MAY I LOVE YOU?
were only to ask
of love
it would shower you....
to speak
a kind word
soon covered over with like....
to need
to plead
answers dance at your feet....
your eyes
a smile
soon overwhelmed, spirits glow....
do you love me?
I think you know
I have always loved you....
I shall forever
I could never be
without loving you....
were only to ask
of love
it would shower you....
to speak
a kind word
soon covered over with like....
to need
to plead
answers dance at your feet....
your eyes
a smile
soon overwhelmed, spirits glow....
do you love me?
I think you know
I have always loved you....
I shall forever
I could never be
without loving you....
TRUE TALE
I recall an incident from my very early youth. I was around age four. My family lived on a white oak lined avenue in a suburb of Baltimore, Maryland. The year was 1956. Just up at the top of the hill, five houses beyond my house was Oakleigh Elementary School. On the grounds, aside from the actual school building itself, were four baseball diamonds, a football field, soccer field, two tennis courts, a basketball court, several wooded areas, an old haunted house (not part of the school grounds, but it was there), and a corraled (metal bars) playground. In this playground, of the many apparatti available, was a merry go round, a sliding board, monkey bars, and swings. The playground was brand new, the ground strewn with sand and stringy wood pieces. My two best friends, Paul and Tommy (who were two years older than me) and I would often go to the playground from our homes to play (We lived very close and remember this was 1956). The end of the school jutted out toward the playground. Maybe, fifty feet apart from each other. Oakleigh elementary was a two story structure in which were taught grades 1 thru 6. One day, as my friends and I were playing, two figures appeared in the large picture window on the second floor at the end of the school overlooking the playground. It was a man and a woman. The man was naked and the woman, clothed, appeared to be scrubbing him just below the belly with a brush. (At the time, I didn't realize that that wasn't a brush in her hand). Without alarm, we played and then left for home. As we were heading home, we came upon our neighbor, Mr. Menninger. One of the older boys, I don't recall which (probably both), remarked to him that they had seen a naked man in the school. As it never crossed our minds that there was anything wrong (or mine anyway), we made our way to our homes. Soon after, there was a buzz going about on our street. Folks were outside. Shortly following, a police car went up our road to the school. After a while (I haven't a clue how long), the police car came back down the hill past our homes and disappeared. I saw two people in the back seat of the car as it passed. I was oblivious to the meaning of all the excitement, obviously. Some days later (for some reason), Paul, Tommy, and I, and our parents, had to get dressed up in the middle of a weekday and travel to this big building somewhere. I had never been there. Our parents walked us into the building and we were all seated in this wide hallway on some wooden benches. Well, we never left those benches for the longest time until some man in a suit came out of one of the doors and spoke to our folks. Something about it being all over. Now get this, then another man came over and gave each of we children a brand new crisp one dollar bill and told us "this is for appearing in court". Whatever that meant. I was bewildered by this entire affair.
I recall an incident from my very early youth. I was around age four. My family lived on a white oak lined avenue in a suburb of Baltimore, Maryland. The year was 1956. Just up at the top of the hill, five houses beyond my house was Oakleigh Elementary School. On the grounds, aside from the actual school building itself, were four baseball diamonds, a football field, soccer field, two tennis courts, a basketball court, several wooded areas, an old haunted house (not part of the school grounds, but it was there), and a corraled (metal bars) playground. In this playground, of the many apparatti available, was a merry go round, a sliding board, monkey bars, and swings. The playground was brand new, the ground strewn with sand and stringy wood pieces. My two best friends, Paul and Tommy (who were two years older than me) and I would often go to the playground from our homes to play (We lived very close and remember this was 1956). The end of the school jutted out toward the playground. Maybe, fifty feet apart from each other. Oakleigh elementary was a two story structure in which were taught grades 1 thru 6. One day, as my friends and I were playing, two figures appeared in the large picture window on the second floor at the end of the school overlooking the playground. It was a man and a woman. The man was naked and the woman, clothed, appeared to be scrubbing him just below the belly with a brush. (At the time, I didn't realize that that wasn't a brush in her hand). Without alarm, we played and then left for home. As we were heading home, we came upon our neighbor, Mr. Menninger. One of the older boys, I don't recall which (probably both), remarked to him that they had seen a naked man in the school. As it never crossed our minds that there was anything wrong (or mine anyway), we made our way to our homes. Soon after, there was a buzz going about on our street. Folks were outside. Shortly following, a police car went up our road to the school. After a while (I haven't a clue how long), the police car came back down the hill past our homes and disappeared. I saw two people in the back seat of the car as it passed. I was oblivious to the meaning of all the excitement, obviously. Some days later (for some reason), Paul, Tommy, and I, and our parents, had to get dressed up in the middle of a weekday and travel to this big building somewhere. I had never been there. Our parents walked us into the building and we were all seated in this wide hallway on some wooden benches. Well, we never left those benches for the longest time until some man in a suit came out of one of the doors and spoke to our folks. Something about it being all over. Now get this, then another man came over and gave each of we children a brand new crisp one dollar bill and told us "this is for appearing in court". Whatever that meant. I was bewildered by this entire affair.
GOOD OLD MISTER MURPHY
I was born and raised in the suburbs of Baltimore Maryland. My parents were hill people from West Virginia who had come east during World War II to find jobs. They were hired on at Glen L. Martin Aircraft which was later to become Martin-Marietta Corp. I grew up in a single home with about half an acre of land on a white oak lined avenue not far from a grade school. Next door to us lived a somewhat unconventional family (for the times), as they weren't a typical two parents with children scenario. No, there was my friend Tommy, his mother, her friend Mr. Knight, and an older gentleman Mr. Murphy. Well, Mr. Murphy would walk one mile each morning to Loch Raven Boulevard where the bus line ran leading in and out of the city. He would take the bus each day to his factory job downtown and then return late each afternoon or evening. As he returned each night from work, whenever he would come upon one of we children in the neighborhood, he would offer us a stick of chewing gum. Usually juicyfruit or doublemint gum. As his figure would appear up our street, someone would always remark "Here comes good old Mister Murphy." We all were very fond of Mister Murphy as he was so generous and kind to us all.
As my parents were from West Virginia, once or twice a year we would travel there for a visit (1950's, early 60's). Once away from Baltimore proper, our journey would mostly take place on winding two lane highways through valleys, up and then down mountains and so on. There were no fast food restaurants and our meals consisted of sandwiches of peanut butter and jelly, or bologna or cheese or somesuch fare either enjoyed in the car or at a roadside picnic table or fountain area of sort. Our bathroom breaks were either at places like this or at gas stations. On one such trip back to Baltimore when I was around age eight, we made a fuel stop at an Esso service station and I went and used their restroom. While inside, I discovered a package of what looked like, I don't know what, in the bottom slot of some kind of dispenser machine. Well, I put the package in my pocket and never mentioned it to anyone. We made our journey home and sometime later (I have no idea what day or when) as I sat on my front porchsteps I opened the package and discovered that they were balloons. So, I began blowing them up and tieing knots in them. As I was enjoying this, along came "good old Mr. Murphy". He told me that my balloons were dirty and that I should throw them into the street. He said that they were bad, dirty, get rid of them. I was puzzled. Huh? But, you know what I did? I threw them into the street. I didn't know why. I just did.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I was born and raised in the suburbs of Baltimore Maryland. My parents were hill people from West Virginia who had come east during World War II to find jobs. They were hired on at Glen L. Martin Aircraft which was later to become Martin-Marietta Corp. I grew up in a single home with about half an acre of land on a white oak lined avenue not far from a grade school. Next door to us lived a somewhat unconventional family (for the times), as they weren't a typical two parents with children scenario. No, there was my friend Tommy, his mother, her friend Mr. Knight, and an older gentleman Mr. Murphy. Well, Mr. Murphy would walk one mile each morning to Loch Raven Boulevard where the bus line ran leading in and out of the city. He would take the bus each day to his factory job downtown and then return late each afternoon or evening. As he returned each night from work, whenever he would come upon one of we children in the neighborhood, he would offer us a stick of chewing gum. Usually juicyfruit or doublemint gum. As his figure would appear up our street, someone would always remark "Here comes good old Mister Murphy." We all were very fond of Mister Murphy as he was so generous and kind to us all.
As my parents were from West Virginia, once or twice a year we would travel there for a visit (1950's, early 60's). Once away from Baltimore proper, our journey would mostly take place on winding two lane highways through valleys, up and then down mountains and so on. There were no fast food restaurants and our meals consisted of sandwiches of peanut butter and jelly, or bologna or cheese or somesuch fare either enjoyed in the car or at a roadside picnic table or fountain area of sort. Our bathroom breaks were either at places like this or at gas stations. On one such trip back to Baltimore when I was around age eight, we made a fuel stop at an Esso service station and I went and used their restroom. While inside, I discovered a package of what looked like, I don't know what, in the bottom slot of some kind of dispenser machine. Well, I put the package in my pocket and never mentioned it to anyone. We made our journey home and sometime later (I have no idea what day or when) as I sat on my front porchsteps I opened the package and discovered that they were balloons. So, I began blowing them up and tieing knots in them. As I was enjoying this, along came "good old Mr. Murphy". He told me that my balloons were dirty and that I should throw them into the street. He said that they were bad, dirty, get rid of them. I was puzzled. Huh? But, you know what I did? I threw them into the street. I didn't know why. I just did.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
HANDS ON BUSINESS
I recall an incident some years back, when I worked for a weekly newspaper in a small rural community. I was an avid fisherman and my friend, Steve, was a driven, nuts on, muskellunge hunter. Well, anyway, Steve was our lead writer at the rag. He had met a fellow, newly retired, that had settled in our tiny hamlet. Having left the bright lights of scheduled stress back east, this man was now free to spend his days (I'm not exactly what it was that he did through the nights) pursuing pleasures of his interest. His love, talent, hobby, was creating fishing lures. He would craft them in his basement shop. There were all manner of different size and style of artificial fish baits soon available for sale by this master craftsman. He had opened a small shop to sell his wares. Never one to look a new business in the mouth (the lifeblood of small newspapers is to sell advertising), Steve went to interview the new proprietor and photograph some of his various wares. He found that this man would actually forge the metal hooks and accessories himself. As well with the plastic and rubber coatings of whatever. Well, he took the pictures and wrote a story on this man and his fledgling business. The headline read "Master Baiter Sets Up Shop in Town". Now, we peons down at the paper loved it. But, as we were to go to press that week, the publisher stopped by and quickly put a stop to our fun. Drat! Now you tell me? How dry is "Expert Luremaker Open for Business"?
I recall an incident some years back, when I worked for a weekly newspaper in a small rural community. I was an avid fisherman and my friend, Steve, was a driven, nuts on, muskellunge hunter. Well, anyway, Steve was our lead writer at the rag. He had met a fellow, newly retired, that had settled in our tiny hamlet. Having left the bright lights of scheduled stress back east, this man was now free to spend his days (I'm not exactly what it was that he did through the nights) pursuing pleasures of his interest. His love, talent, hobby, was creating fishing lures. He would craft them in his basement shop. There were all manner of different size and style of artificial fish baits soon available for sale by this master craftsman. He had opened a small shop to sell his wares. Never one to look a new business in the mouth (the lifeblood of small newspapers is to sell advertising), Steve went to interview the new proprietor and photograph some of his various wares. He found that this man would actually forge the metal hooks and accessories himself. As well with the plastic and rubber coatings of whatever. Well, he took the pictures and wrote a story on this man and his fledgling business. The headline read "Master Baiter Sets Up Shop in Town". Now, we peons down at the paper loved it. But, as we were to go to press that week, the publisher stopped by and quickly put a stop to our fun. Drat! Now you tell me? How dry is "Expert Luremaker Open for Business"?
FLOATING
I saw a girl the other day
her eyes had flash
her hair was red
my hair is gray
feel left out of room to play
but the blood flows
deep breaths occur, as before
memorable sweetness in the air
now that spring is here
a young man's fancy?
I suppose that I shall forever recall it
to ever live a young man's fancy?
I will never live it again
for, I'm not a young man
it's not that I don't fancy
I've found a wonderful lover
all of our dreams are coming true
day after day after day
it's just that, at age 15
one is filled with that rare air
a new feeling
their being becomes one of exhilarating adventure
so new, so encompassing, so alien, so welcome
a young man discovers being driven
to that love which is all possessing
it's suddenly
all that matters
beautiful part of life
when you first discover love
why can't we all feel this?
day after day after day
our whole lives through
but tis sad
one may only feel that first time
the first time
but we never forget that feeling
we miss it
I saw a girl the other day
her eyes had flash
her hair was red
my hair is gray
feel left out of room to play
but the blood flows
deep breaths occur, as before
memorable sweetness in the air
now that spring is here
a young man's fancy?
I suppose that I shall forever recall it
to ever live a young man's fancy?
I will never live it again
for, I'm not a young man
it's not that I don't fancy
I've found a wonderful lover
all of our dreams are coming true
day after day after day
it's just that, at age 15
one is filled with that rare air
a new feeling
their being becomes one of exhilarating adventure
so new, so encompassing, so alien, so welcome
a young man discovers being driven
to that love which is all possessing
it's suddenly
all that matters
beautiful part of life
when you first discover love
why can't we all feel this?
day after day after day
our whole lives through
but tis sad
one may only feel that first time
the first time
but we never forget that feeling
we miss it
A WINK IN TIME
a shot o'er the bough brought fear through the night
still, I wish you very much the same
never realizing the terrible chore
the unrealistic claim
that we both were to blame
no matter what our name
and who we chose to shame
or why we play the game
it always ends the same
we're human, expect little more
perspectives pick up the weakness of you now
the softness and bruising inside
I only try to help 'cause I know
the terrible thoughts in your mind
only leave you behind
and others of your kind
friends you may find
if they be of likemind
must have come from the same vine
thus securing that none ever grow
food on the table, but not a bite for me
nourishment? huh? what a joke!
I feed upon your vice and all you say is good
my belly fat with flab
from pronouncements that you blab
your failed attention for to grab
spotlight for diatribe
now you'll never hide
see your darkness deep inside
your heart is black, your mind is merely wood
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
a shot o'er the bough brought fear through the night
still, I wish you very much the same
never realizing the terrible chore
the unrealistic claim
that we both were to blame
no matter what our name
and who we chose to shame
or why we play the game
it always ends the same
we're human, expect little more
perspectives pick up the weakness of you now
the softness and bruising inside
I only try to help 'cause I know
the terrible thoughts in your mind
only leave you behind
and others of your kind
friends you may find
if they be of likemind
must have come from the same vine
thus securing that none ever grow
food on the table, but not a bite for me
nourishment? huh? what a joke!
I feed upon your vice and all you say is good
my belly fat with flab
from pronouncements that you blab
your failed attention for to grab
spotlight for diatribe
now you'll never hide
see your darkness deep inside
your heart is black, your mind is merely wood
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
RELEASE
we exploded in a kiss
ne'er fore imagined a thrill as this
sweet juices ran over
our swollen hot skin
we writhed round an embrace
she pressed me again
seemed almost as magic
brute strength soon unleashed
but beauty fast held me
no escape for the beast
pressure fast mounting
sounds cry from our throat
mere flesh now our world
past memory remote
strange fire erupting
cast our senses afright
frantic passion consumed
once sad hearts
now, delight!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
we exploded in a kiss
ne'er fore imagined a thrill as this
sweet juices ran over
our swollen hot skin
we writhed round an embrace
she pressed me again
seemed almost as magic
brute strength soon unleashed
but beauty fast held me
no escape for the beast
pressure fast mounting
sounds cry from our throat
mere flesh now our world
past memory remote
strange fire erupting
cast our senses afright
frantic passion consumed
once sad hearts
now, delight!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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a very close friend taught me how to fight
no matter the odds, ne'er concede your right
for should you bow down and not show your face
you enable a bully to show you your place
my friend from far away land was a girl
for a great while our hearts were dancing awhirl
but soon the dam burst, we drifted apart
each other to carry a piece of our heart
and now at a distance, I glance from afar
forever to carry our love in a jar
one day if I'm lucky, might hear me to shout
was opened, the lid, our love has won out
free from the self imposed shackles we wore
away from the prison, had unlocked the door
we'll fly once again, as free as a bird
to each other's arms, with nary a word