Category: Poems

I wasn’t alive until I hit sixty-five.

Born without food a diaper or a bed of straw, I wanted to know who did this to me, but couldn’t display pain to the makers. I swore someday I’d make them pay for what they did to me. Until then, I paid the price like everyone else.   All through the years, I wracked…



Testosterone Listening to Pandora I hear ads for this every few minutes.

“If you’re over forty, it’s not your fault that your testosterone is low and you’ve shifted into low and are ready to stall. You’re not alone you know, and can still change gears   by smoking reefer and making young girls sniff cocaine. Drink some whiskey and have some fun, cause it’s all going to…



It’s the birthday of the poet W.D. (William DeWitt) Snodgrass born in Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania (1926)

He was studying poetry at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop in the early 1950s when his marriage began to fall apart, and he began writing about it in his poems. He showed some of these personal poems to his teacher, the poet Robert Lowell, but Lowell didn’t like them. He said, “You’ve got a brain; you…



That’s The Way

I sit under the sun coming from the East, but will never again. It goes over the mountains out West, so I lay back on a mountain rock to easily see   the darkening sky that’ll soon be filled with sparkling stars, lighting the night, and soon moon beams will be sent to make my…



A Bottle of Booze Will Do

Being sober fills the inside of my head and scrapes the back of my eyes with unjust images and words, like incest, spousal abuse, and kids so hungry they eat their own.   I can’t be without booze obliterating the wounds society has assigned to me   Well you can say goodbye, but please don’t…



Poetry at work!

 



Reaching for the Moon

When on a date with a woman I’ve recently met, I’m soon wishing I was alone, until I met a brightly shining star hovering above the crowd of single women I know.   To her life is glorious and her enthusiasm is contagious. When I’m with her, I’m happy that I’m alive and dream of…



Who’s To Blame

My subconscious sent words through email a week ago, and created thoughts I never would have had if, they weren’t hidden in the membranes of my sensible mind. If I had been aware, I would have edited and revised.   Sex is what it’s all about, and wants to be let out, so those thoughts…



A Little Verse by Joe!

This little verse is jealous of the poetry tucked away until today,   and the words I use in it aren’t pretty and don’t matter to me.   If it knew I’m not the one who makes the choice of all the words under the sun,   and my fingers dance to ideas flowing through…



Impulsively

Impulsively A cautionary word is what I need when I begin to think and see a hike I like, or a river to kayak on, or a beautiful girl to love. When I impulsively do things as I have during my life as if there were no strings, I now have to pay with pain…