agoodguy2have Poetry (283)

my son comes by and looks over my shoulder
at his picture on my PC's wallpaper
he analyses it carefully seeing
himself as so young, so innocent
he can't believe he was ever that
young and innocent
(he's twenty now)

life spans before him like the view
from a tollbooth at a suspension bridge
his motor revving a little
he looks at the collector in the booth
then at the long span
over the river of life
ready to ride, he presses the gas,
confidently grips the wheel
and pulls away, the music in his ears

© Goode Guy 2011-08-22

so, i got to thinking
about all those words
planted in my language
where fertility grew them
to leave and stalk and pod

the farmer's words scatter
my fields like seed on clod
watered by thundering flashes
awash, fertilized and germinating

progeny seedlings, my own growth
in some time-lapse photography
writhing their creamy roots
into earthy loam and droning
on through a summer daze

into fruits of sweaty labors
on humid chlorophylled days
silks sultry green, stalking me
through rows and rows as far
as i can see, if i squint

the farmer, suspended in time
stands with his hands in pocket
or on some implement toed to soil
and surveys life's prospects
for this season, before the

days bake the green back into
the humus and the cornucopia
spills the field and orchard
this verse of the farmer's song
picked and stowed away cool

eyes closed now, ears gently
strain to hear, worldly phrasing
come from where? my larder
or some ancestor gleaning meaning
and dropping it into her apron

to carry home to hungry minds
to feed them something of today
and sustain them through a fallow
solstice and the chilled breeze

any cultivation harvested over
picked clean and harrowed flat
nearly time to plow it under again
while the farmer gazes the horizon
and sips something in his cup

© Goode Guy 2011-08-22

that indian, he ain't come to town
still, summer's started windin' down
you can feel it in the air some how
this season's seasoning, time to avow

do soldiers march with cadence strident?
as sure of battles outcomes provident
as time of Sol marches across the sky
another summer season spent, gone by

still, the warmth will linger a bit more
'til Earth's tilting a cooler guarantor
that winter will soon tag this autumn
and nights long flow slow as sorghum

quarterly, we divide our seasonal pie
to save and share and partake thereby
turning our waterwheel of milling time
to something fervent, meaningful, sublime

so, i fervently wish to take this opportune
today, to share this halcyon afternoon
with you alone, ok maybe a pet or two
i love this life, i love this day, i love you

© Goode Guy 2011-08-22

i'm quitting you again
because i want to
because i can
not so much to walk away
but to come back
and make up
from this little row
that we're about to have

i told you once
i'll tell you again
that i'm in love
with you

so this walk i'm gonna take
if not for mine
then for your sake
so you'll again be
able to see me coming
back to your forgiveness

© Goode Guy 2011-08-01

being the cut-up i was
back when i lost my nut
and she bolted away
i found myself
half of scissors say
singular scissor
not much more than
an ice pick is,
more to the point

yet what can be done
when two useful parts
fall apart, depart
to become as it were
(is?) ...a sciss

chipping away at the
cold icy truth
that one must use
to survive
snowing the rest
around as i dig
into another bit
of frozen flow

to tool or not...
whether it's designed
to be of use to other
even others, or just
turn the puzzle,
hardware in hand

discerning or
dis-earning
casting aside snippets
confettied triangles
some papered cuts
life's try angles

© Goode Guy 2011-07-29

the man, the man...
like Samaritan of lore, he comforts the down
turning about he sees
his loins laid bleeding on the street
all those years flash his eyes
as he cradles his son once more
and tries to keep him there

the man, the man...
on the street, within hours
speaks to the world, his neighbor
as even then, ignorant anger swirls about
"today we stand here to plead"
"calm for our communities to stand united"
"why are we doing this?"
"step forward if you wanna loose your sons"
"otherwise calm down...and go home"

the man, the man...

© Goode Guy 2011-08-11

for Tariq Jahan and son Haroon

he stands amid the dusted rays
of beams from smudged, windowed days
casting light on the words below
pressed flat upon papered page

he's been here since before sun up
stained and smelling of turpentine
surveying the thoughts he's pressed
quickly he hangs the page to dry

then re-inks the typeset laid to table
and inserts another piece to press
pulling at the screw pressed platen
repeating process his labors express

his desire to enlighten the world
not just his neighbors informed to tell
ideas and thoughts carried on back
ancestors haunched with ink and quill

before them criers cried the street
events be known upon lips aloud
spreading ideas throughout the land
difficult to speak beyond the crowd

and unbeknownst to him and kind
someday in future ideas are spread
with something called electricity
through wires and waves on into head

to reach to you my heartfelt soul
ideas with emotions and feelings said
until now, thoughts sweetest aspirations
words spread like jam on slice of bread

words, like feelings toil quietly
carry your touch and feeling along
to distant lands and distant times to
give life's meaning, therefore prolong

what the publisher and writer wish
to convey to all able to read or hear
that thought, like life, is precious
held close at hand, the mind made clear

© Goode Guy 2011-08-09

like

there's nothing like an ethnic division
a wall of scorn, distain and derision

to cement our opinion of another’s birth
and chastise their reason, being and worth

what right do they have to be in my mind
creating my discontent, and all of mankind

where does this distain for them originate
that forces me and my brothers to hate

it is plain to many, as any man can see
that their being here, will be the end of me

i cannot accept, and i will not choose
to see them as mankind, and alter my views

i am certain, as the sun spins on this day
for me to be free, their life i must slay

so with hate and malice, for all of them
i work to pass judgment, and freely condemn

their kin to die, with my weapon i strike
i have no love for them, or even a like

© agoodguy2have 2010-03-03

two guys met way back and comprise
a duet of two, fondly able to show
true affection for other as a twin

these guys as you might surmise
are lifetime friends though
Younger's thick and Elder's thin

since Younger's days of undersize
Elder's maintained the status quo
that they weren't related kin

they sat for years as happy guys
on park bench, no desire to know
if their covering was familial skin

Younger seemed to scrutinize
his Elder from head to toe
to glimpse a deeper truth within

Elder's mind then thought it wise
for Younger's future peace, you know
to search old truth, their times begin

test the DNA facts that underlies
a connection beyond any John Doe
himself and Younger related within

result comes back the test supplies
that they're difference can forgo
no familial connection there had been

biologically different too often belies
the bonds that they themselves bestow
to each other as family though not kin

so they found themselves in the guise
of family unrelated, still family apropos
as blood or not, their faces all agrin

© Goode Guy 2011-07-26

Archimedes sat at the table with his wife
a contemplative look in his eye
slowly eating Psomi and grapes
until finally he said:

"What would you like to do today dearest?"
"Would you like to go to the sea and bathe?"

"Perhaps", she said, ... "later".

"Would you care to walk to the peaks,
to see the arc of the Earth?" said he.

"No, I think not." she replied.

"Then the Amphitheatre, for a two-act play?"

"No," she said "...but we could play."

A bit bewildered he finally said,
"Well, what on Earth would you like to do?"

She smiled and quietly replied,
"We need to oil the Archimedean screw."

© agoodguy2have 2011-08-08

for give, for giving
the whole world seems
forgiven for living
these ends to extremes

for give me mine
indiscretions that
seemed so benign
i nearly fell flat

forgive me my will
that hard hit the wall
hardened me until
i forgot to recall

for give ruled golden
those marking my way
to many beholding
indebted to repay

forgive petty tiffs
words carelessly blurted
would take back if
not mindlessly inserted

forgive for deceiving
those loved the most
close bonds bereaving
pride left to boast

forgive me my pride
that brought to the brink
in cold heart to abide
hardened armor to chink

forgiving and forgetting
letting bygones be bygones
setting aside regretting
merciful pardon undergone

for give, to live
free from our angst
amongst the living
forgive to give thanks

© agoodguy2have 2011-07-30

whether in deep of dark
whether brightest of noonday
there's always eyes askance
casing out the come-what-may

checking angles broadly obtuse
to meaning of some stances
and other sideways glances
seeing what they can deduce

dressed in black sleek style
with shiny silent-soled shoes
steeling their desires awhile
looking affections to peruse

undecided won't be chided
on what may happen possibly
taking what comes in stride
capers can happen plausibly

who's the thief and who's
the hapless victim can be
in love's game hard to choose
pilfered affection too pat to see

yet if i am your prize you
might then surmise that i too
a second-story man pull a coup
to steal your heart, in full view

just be aware that life ain't fair
and goods are taken every day
some want more than a share
of hearts affections to take away

© agoodguy2have 2011-08-02