I'll post my poems here, feel free to offer any thoughts or comments you may have.
Between the Covers
You penny dreadful thing,
a five and dime dame.
Whispering in my ear,
you still love to wear my ring.
Wise trollop queen,
you still know how many licks
to make your king's heart sing.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
Terrance of Gor
Brexel's contest was here
marksmen one and all could enter.
Silver purse, bow of yew
if theirs were the last at center
Earl of Flynn, Bill of Tell
Alec Lightwood, Clint of Barton
Terrance was a known fop
he was anything but spartan.
Terrance, with locks of red
A bow in hand and one at hip
a third worn on his neck.
To the frau from last night, he bowed.
The crowd they cheered for all.
Panache galore this Gorean had
they all pined for his sign.
Style and a smile, he was that bad.
The final round was here
Earl and Alec both hit center
Terrance aimed with closed eyes
No concerns, about the others.
His flights were on target
those arrows in half his did split
the sun was soon to set
the judges a tie they'd admit
Terrance gave a last test
an apple on heads to be split
they thought and consented
to this final they would permit
Alec halved core and worm
Earl left only juice on their head
Terrance in an eye was hit
Take care on the frau in your bed.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
The Nut Lady
Pigeons gathered at the feeding station,
the sun just now slipping over the trees.
A pair of doves, an unusual pear color,
were at the fore of the crowd,
waiting for the nut lady’s food.
“What makes them taste so good?” they asked.
“It’s the way she removes the hard coating”
“No, it must be the trees they fall from.”
“It might be bait, so listen for our enemies bate.”
They parted when a stranger walked through them.
None approached the nun who sat at the station.
“Who’s she? Doesn’t look like our feeder?”
She lady wiped her eyes before saying,
“This morning, my sisters spirit flew to heaven,
she died of the flu. Would you experts in cooing,
sing your mourning song to help her along?”
The pale sunlight sparkled on the pail she put down.
“Here is your food, the way my sister made them;
deep fried in grease, imported from Greece.
Bon appetit from The Nut Lady.”
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
My Lovers Touch
She’s a guardian angel
who freed my conscience.
What cursed thread
bound you to my life?
We meet at the bistro,
to witnessing dawn’s light.
My mind feels our hands caress
over coffee shared.
We stroll along the canal
greeting friends and ghosts alike.
My hands at my side
our shadow’s arms entwine.
Your smile’s a baited trap
your laugh a prison.
We discuss our life and the future.
Why never our future life?
Did you care of the choice you had?
I sought another, to sooth my pain.
You latched on to one for gain.
Our nest’s to expand, I find life is very sad.
She, in her flowing black dress
knows my depths.
I shiver,
our parting nears.
“Fear not lover,
We’ll meet again on the morrow.”
Her voices dark whispers,
so sweet.
They say you fear light’s flight.
But I know it’s the darkness of my soul.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
I hope that my poetry is enjoyable. All are welcome to leave comments.
Ode to Cereal
Inconvenient when created,
but much more than curds and whey.
Most of us do it every day.
It’s become a table top debate,
Is the sugar first or last?
Fruit in both or just for what’s hot?
We always add a dab more milk;
or do we not?
To stir with love, churn, or neither?
Juice and burned bread,
sometimes the kids make it
when mom is still in it,
With a rose, though it’s not a course.
Do you have it at night?
Are you sure that’s alright?
If beer was used instead
Would it sound like,
Snap, crackle, burp?
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
Misconceptions
Purge your fears, control your anxiety.
Wings in the night, devils messengers take flight.
Full moon above full belly soon to be had.
Beehive hair cut especially attractive,
Virgin’s blood is fun, if you can find one.
You can’t run, you can’t hide
Your screams are a lighthouse,
Your whimpers a foghorn.
Velvet brown fur, black leather wings,
We actually like fruit, nectar and other things.
Imagine that.
They have us in baseball, cricket and single wicket.
Can you guess our crowning achievement?
I doubt that you’d believe it.
We’re closer to primates than rodents.
After all, we’re bats.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
Having Fun With Death
The table was ready, soon the guests would be there,
The list was incomplete as few had remembered to RSV Peep.
First were Maester Nigrum of House Mortem and Giolamo of House Pital.
Then two guests brand new, Computus of Virus with his sister Biologicum.
Successful siblings tis said, she with over one hundred and four degrees and he with a permanent gig with Hertz.
Names of the famous were evoked to good health; Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford, and Bellini it’s true.
Arnold Palmer, John Daley, and Shirley Temple too,
Ginger Rodgers was best, though she missed Fred’s stare.
Death is death, when and how doesn’t matter, except to jesters and pollsters.
Think what I say isn’t true? Then ask Jackie if she enjoyed the parade or Mary the play?
When cancer finds a temporary host; how many pop the cork and make a toast?
That Alzheimer’s eats, devouring life’s memories, how many visit the local haberdashery?
Please God, forgive us those notions.
Padre Sarducci was master of the table, set with foods and succulents galore.
Bread of green, with ham and eggs in between, chicken a la raw along with beef Tatar,
When people die, we sigh and think, “Thank God it wasn’t me.”
All waited with breath abated, as they sat in their chairs, electricity charging the air,
In the hopes that short would be their prayer.
Padre Sarducci stood to review the revue;
“Does God or the Devil care more when creatures are killed?
Angel of mercy or that of death, neither invented Kevorkian’s scarf.
Death is a virus, yet is not life its leading cause?
Now for the greatest virus of all, that of the heart and love,
There is no cure, salve or pill.
It deprives you of sleep, food, and wisdom.
Many have said that love is blind, yet deaf and dumb, should be included as well.
Some act the fool, others act the poet, and we all act the saint, despite the fact, we ain't.
We’ve died and killed for it and due to it; we’ve stolen and begged, truth be its greatest feature.
Rivers of tears, salty and sweet; songs aplenty, aired in its honor
No doctors Rx, no Buddha’s words to soothe; do we really seek a cure?
Of silence, is that a cancer that grows,
Or only the wisdom of thought expressed, to show what we know?
Wisdom may come through fool and by sage, though one is always locked in a cage.
It’s man, who created what were assembled here for,
That laughter is the best medicine, for what ails us all.”
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
MIRRORS
Naked glass space of delusional beginnings.
You bend us and twist us.
You widen us and reduce us.
Sans the laughter the fun house mandates?
Those of beauty are mesmerized by your creation,
While those who feel they lack such, are loath to see it.
If left matches left, does right then match right?
If so, why does your smile look like a smirk?
Your power is the reality of illusion;
And that’s perceptions gilded cage.
Ode to you, creator of doppelgangers and caricatures;
When I close my eyes, do you cease to exist?
Do your tears mock me or feel for me?
What do you see when looking at me?
Am I your creator, or creation?
Am I friend or fiend?
Why to others that see us you do reveal, but from us you conceal,
The trappings of our soul! The firmament of our dreams!
However, the reality of life, lies somewhere in between.
Is this perceptions gilded cage?
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
Cranium Bubbles
Psst, come here.
On the path you’re traveling,
are you closer to the beginning or the end?
Did you know that light is what measures time?
How do copacetic rain drops make a seething ocean tempest?
Would you trade dancing on the eddy's of time for that among the stars?
Do the blind seek the starlight or freedom from the dark jackals that hunt them down?
White, violet, blue, magenta and lilac, the colors of Pan’s first pipes.
Did the savage beast play just to soothe himself?
Death always wears its Sunday best.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
Help from My Friends
What do you do when I write out of sync?
Roll your eyes upwards because you can’t blink?
Lend me your mind
I'll try to stay very confined
I know I’m not the only one
I see it every week
Words so brightly spun
Many think I write in ancient Greek
My dreams are never empty
though my writing seems to be.
Is knitting a cashmere sweater doing the same thing?
We use the elements and building blocks a plenty
Though chemistry and lego builders
We not be.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
Hammer Man
There was a young man with a hammer.
For whom all the ladies would clamour.
That not every bald head
is a nine-pin, they said
because all he could do was rammer.
"Illegitimis non carborundum." Vinger Joe Stllwell
What you learn in life is important; those you help learn are more.
