Tag: Poetry

Tammy McGee

(Editor’s note: apologies to Edgar Allen Poe for this updated adaptation of Annabel Lee)

It was many, and many a month ago

in a city called Miami

there was a woman living there who you may know

by the name of Tammy McGee

and this woman spent her time

loving and being loved by me

I was retired and so was she

living on the beaches of Miami

and we loved one another madly

I, and my Tammy McGee

with a love the world envied

her, and me

and this was the reason

she was killed by a Nazi

on the beaches of Miami

my gorgeous Tammy McGee

Her family came

and bore her away from me,

burying her in secrecy

the relatives were never happy with me

Yes! That is the reason, as all people know,

they took her away from Miami

hiding my beloved Tammy McGee

but our love continues on in eternity

and nothing can take away her love from me

she appears to me every night in my dreams

my darling Tammy McGee

and not a day goes by

when the sun raises high

when I don’t want to die

On Monuments of War

people say that they hate war

that they don’t want anymore

massive casualties and gore

yet monuments are built

edifices of national guilt

over the blood that was spilt

glorifying past wars

on distant shores

to settle old scores

why

build

any

more?

A Flock of Traveling Souls

unencumbered by bodies they passed by

a flock of traveling souls soaring in the sky

a grieving widow saw them giving her hope

of eternal life and the inner strength to cope

Call of the Coded Words

they’re a siren’s call to mystery and intrigue

laced with meanings from a special colleague

coded words that creep into conversations

secrets exchanged between rival nations

words so fraught with hidden meaning

can also contain something demeaning

peeling away layers of deep mistrust

that if decoded could easily combust

turning a questionably civilized society

into a maelstrom of vicious impropriety

Frog Night Serenade

ribbit! ribbit!

went the big bullfrog

while sitting on a floating log

ribbit! ribbit!

in a basso tone

making the lady frogs groan

ribbit! ribbit! ribbit!

the bullfrog sang

before he suddenly sprang

ribbit! ribbit!

taking everything he had

to land smoothly on a lily pad

ribbit! ribbit! ribbit!

excited girl frogs were arrayed

waiting for the bullfrog’s serenade

ribbit! ribbit! ribbit!

sang the bullfrog under the light of the moon

while his delighted audience tried not too swoon

Rebellion of the Clocks

time was lost when earth’s clocks rebelled

against constraints man’s science brought to bear

triggering deafening alarms and chimes everywhere

shattering clocks of every type and style

leaving broken timekeepers behind in a pile

of wristwatches

pocket watches

novelty watches

and other mechanical cousins

products of man’s efforts to capture time

such impunity

bending universal physics like salt water taffy

in order to control society

making people account for every hour of the day

and when to pray

until cosmic forces finally intervened

against the invention by human beings

A Tribute To Lawrence Ferlinghetti

he captured the average American experience

with words woven with activism and skepticism

an insurgent in the literary world with no allegiance

to traditional poetry and using abstract expressionism

he confesses to being an anarchist at heart

encouraging poets to write about political and cultural

aspects of their country like laws and local art

Lawrence Ferlinghetti who turned 100 the other day

still burns brightly in the world of poetry

an icon with plenty left to say

about the world and our society

Tech-Challenged Retiree’s Poetic Reverie

keeping up with 21st century technology

isn’t easy for a retiree like me

I’m in awe of the computer community

and their popularity

but I’m doomed to be a forever trainee

and not a true devotee

I say this unapologetically

it’s who I happen to be

technology does makes me happy

to a certain degree

making life less of a mystery

as the internet sets me free

with a world class library

The Ripple Effect

the consequences of our actions cause ripples in a cosmic sea

reverberating further than our eye can see

they echo in the myriad corridors of eternity

and find fertile hunting grounds in diversity

they spawn revolutions and bring prosperity

sometimes they point out things inadvertently

as you watch helplessly

with uncertainty

as the ripples spread out mysteriously

entwined with your fate in history

Childhood Photo

I looked like a defiant little boy

staring into the camera with his toy

with my serious eyes and curly hair

it could have been taken anywhere

a black and white memory of days past

a glimpse of youth that didn’t last

no trace of a smile on my chubby face

it appears I’d rather be in some other place

what caused me to look so grim?

something serious, or just a whim?

I can’t remember what I thought that day

it appears someone interrupted my play

childhood photos are ghosts from our past

while memories fade, they’ll always last

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