Last Commented Sestina Poems (15)

In childhood, as granny pummelled dough,
I used to play in sun's dust-moted ray
While she would ask me, " do a dance for me?"
Then I would gather dreams from near and far
And twirl around because she loved me. So
I felt as if her home was Shangri-la.

My granny's house was always Shangri-la
On those warm Sundays, while she made bread dough
For farmer's sons, who'd eat a loaf or so
Each day, while watching weather for sun ray
or rain, that in this climate ne'er was far.
It never mattered either way to me.

She'd sing a verse or two and then ask me
To do my party piece in Shangri-la.
These memories now seem so very far
Since granny lilted while she proved the dough.
Then as we'd wait, we'd walk in sun's last ray
Across the meadows, then she's hug me so

I'd know we had a bond. I loved her so.
Then back again, just letting me be me,
She'd take the dough and put it in the "Ray"
To cook the loaves that scented Shangri-la,
That new-bread smell that wafted from the dough
Which drew her friends and neighbours, near and far.

The cousins and the uncles lived quite far.
They walked there,all a-suited,looked just-so.
For Sunday evenings and the smell of dough
Brought promises that cheered both them and me.
All sang and danced and drank in Shangri-la
Until the mountains let through dawn's first ray.

When granny'd take more bread out of the "Ray"
To feed the ones who had to walk so far,
To see them on their way from Shangri-la.
My family would also go and so
Gran 'd put some sugar on some bread for me
So I'd not cry, and miss that smell of dough.

To see the sun's ray or to smell some dough,
My dreams still stretch far, bring all back to me,
I find Shangri-la, and it comforts so...

I run through
At
Times I feel the memory
A pace
Hearten beaten
Thumping

Flicks of time
relax me

Can dig that

Swinging to bird song beats
The call
yet disappear

to create
the beauty
that will come and go

grasping is a silent
dying art
Wanna paint

or
faint

Wanna write

and take fold what you create
be strong
spill the
forgotten
under done steak

Four legs
Eyes black with orange circle
Long whiskers
Teeth sharp

Silent tails swirls back and forth
Nose to the ground
The everlasting scent
Food wanted

Dinner on a plate
The smell of flesh the leoperds prey
Hiding in between the trees silently stalcks
Sneaking upoun with silent paws fangs ready
Claws extended

Silently creeps
Inches away flesh sents its nostrils deep
The leopard silent sees its prey
Fangs devour the flesh ,blood spurts to the ground the prey is dead
Roar or the leapord it is feed

Once in the grey yearning
And awful lonliness
Of widowhood
I thought
That if a woman climbed in my bedroom window
I mignt pass out.
Now I know
That if one did
I would. consy

I was walking through puddles of oatmeal
As other folks drove behind a steering wheel
I was stuck in a park putrefied by puke
With no apologies nor lies I wished to rebuke

I was floating in a lake filled with dog shit
Lucky there were no dogs present who bit
However there was this tiger running loose
As I watched that tiger consume a goose

at this time I really don’t want to haggle
But it could have been one goose or a gaggle
I was trying to ignore the ignorance all around
While more oatmeal headed for holy ground

Someone stole the soapbox I preached upon yesterday
But it’s difficult to stand on a soapbox with feet of clay
For I am a man who feels that every man’s death is mine
And instead of oatmeal I wished it would rain some vintage wine

Oatmeal, dog shit, a tiger and some geese
While psychotic psychics profess there will never be any peace
After my soapbox was stolen I would just go around asking anyone
Will this be the kind of land and legacy I want to leave for my grandson?
(2001)… ….free cee (this poem is dedicated to a little boy whose whole journey through adolescence I am missing, because 4,000 miles of tar, brick and the sea separate the proudest grandfather and Mr. T.I. (I am required to use initials so as not to give away a son’s concern) as cute a kid that ever was aloud to be little, happy and have a father as his best friend, and his mom as a “dedicated mother rather than a regimented wife.” May he grow up in a world wherein everyone finds comfort in every one and courtesy with respect from everyone alive)

HE GETS HOME FROM WORK BARELY ALIVE
YOU GET HOME FROM A NINE TO FIVE
HE HATES THE TRAIN AND YOU HATE TO DRIVE
IT'S JUST LUCKY HE DOESN'T LET US HAVE FRIENDS TO ARRIVE
THEN THERE'S THE DRINKING SEEMINGLY ALL NIGhT
WHILE ALL THE TIME THERE'S ALWAYS THE SHOPPING WITH CARE
TRYING TO JUGGLE FOUR BALLS IN THE AIR
THE LITTLE ONE WON'T STOP WHINING AND WAILING
AND HE ONCE VOWED A SEA WITH A SAILBOAT TO GO SAILING

WELL THE BLUE SEA BECAME THE RED SEA WHEN THE OLDEST CUT HER HAND IN THE BATH
AND IT'S TAKING EVERY MILLIMETER OF STRENGTH TO TRIUMPH GOD'S WRATH
BUT WHY ME LORD, I WORE WHITE AT MY WEDDING IN YOUR HOUSE
SHOOT LORD, HOW WAS I TO KNOW HE'D TURN INTO SUCH A LOUSE

JUST THREE YEARS AGO EVERYONE SAID "MY BEAUTY WAS BARED
SOME WOMEN WANTED TO COMPETE WITH YOU BUT NO LADY EVER DARED"
EVERY MAN WHO SAW YOU WANTED YOU, AND EACH LADY WANTED TO BE YOU
AND NOW LOOK LORD, GIVE ME A HINT, A SUGGESTION A SIGN OF WHAT TO DO

THERE ARE OUR KIDS WHO NEVER EVER SEEM TO MAKE SENSE
AND WHAT EVER BECAME OF THAT WHITE PICKET FENCE?
I WANTED A DOG NOT AN IGUANA OR SNAKE BUT A DOGGIE WITH CLASS
NOW I HAVE AN IGUANA, AN AQUARIUM SNAKE AND MY HUSBAND, A SNAKE IN THE GRASS

NOW I KNOW OH MY LORD PRECISLY WHAT TO SAY AND TO DO
AND THIS DIVINE INTERVENTION IS SURELY FROM YOU
I KNOW WHAT TO DO AND HOW TO DO IT FOR I LIVE IN FEAR
BUT LORD,YOU ALSO KNOW WHAT I WILL DO IS STAY RIGHT HERE
(C) 2011....~free cee!~
p.s. i really hope this never hapened to you

How to Smile when Lifes Witch

Every time i feel Down
Somehow I look Arround,
I see Many who have had it worst
Like I've never even experienced Thirst

Seems sometimes Our Baddest
cant compare of their Sadness
when we really look to see
we count our Blessings from our Knees

so many never seem to learn
but in this life, we all get a Turn
Just as we think we are Free
we find ourselves in Need!

Life is not a bed of roses
so why do we suppose it
It is a teaching from above
In the End, It Only Teaches Us Love!!!

While fishing at a pond,
Belonging to a friend,
Summer, late afternoon,
Twas very near day's end.

There came an eerie sound,
A woman's mournful moan,
As if in horrid pain,
It chilled me to the bone.

Looked around behind me,
To where the cry had came,
But nothing did I see,
No villain there to blame.

Climbed up the embankment,
To have a look around.
Scanned the brush most careful,
No damsel to be found.

Called out to the forest,
"Do you need help?" I cried.
Only voice an echo,
Back from the other side.

Darkness was approaching,
I fin'lly walked away.
With that scream still haunting,
Can hear it to this day.

Called my friend the owner,
To tell him of my dread.
He laughed so hard he cried.
"A screech owl!!!"'s what he said.

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WALKING ALONG THE BEACH I CAME ACROSS A LAMP
OLD AND TIRED IT LOOKED SO I TOOK IT HOME AND GAVE IT A WIPE
OH BLEES MY SOUL A GENIE HE DID POP OUT
BIG AND HUGH AND SMELLING OF STOUT

WITH A MIGHTY CRY HE BELOWED OUT
YES MASTER WHAT DO YOU WANT
WITH A WIMPER AND A CRY I SAID WITH TREMBLING BREATH
THREE WISHES IS WHAT I WANT

THREE WISHES THE GENIE CRIED YOUR HAVEING A LAUGH
DO YOU THINK I CAN MAKE WISHES COME TRUE
OH YES I CRIED
OK SAID THE GENIE WITH A LAUGH AND A SNEER I WILL TRY

WHAT IS YOUR FIRST WISH HE CRIED
WISH NUMBER ONE I WANT TO HAVE SOME FUN
WISH NUMBER TWO BUILD ME A MANSION AND A PRETTY WOMAN INSIDE
WISH NUMBER THREE TO WIN THE LOTTERY

I see you standing in front of me
Your joyfull smile your ies looking back at me
Your ies gazing into mine
you move gently over to me

You hold my hand gently ,as you hold my heart gently
your my heart your my fire and soul we are one
Holding hands you tenderly kiss my lips
we are one as i hold you tight

i will not let you go
you are my love you are my desire
my passion burns just for you
i tenderly kiss your neck you are mine, my one and only