Category Archives: Poem

Heatwave

Thank God, the Sun finally fell,
And my grass is all hay, as far as I can tell.
And, she has remarried, well done, well-played;
While I return to my room and its old, unmade bed.

How to escape these grayer ill-jointed days
As we reap the errors of our less-traveled stupid ways—
Find a job, see the doctors, count to ten.
You are right, you’ll never touch her again.

Mercury pauses up past one hundred and two;
Horrible news arrived from the Audubon Zoo;
A jaguar slipped her man-made enclosure;
Happily-ever-after looks very far from sure.

This Heatwave is here for another fortnight.
Wear your sunscreen, hold onto fantasies tight.
Pay the right bills, sell the rest of the stock.
O to have mystick time like from Ashland’s clock.

Weather well, all ye Christians, thru this Austin heatwave.
Gather fresh chrysanthemums for this Land of the Brave.

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Nitebot!

But then the nurse burst in thru the door
And found us paralyzed, laughing on the floor
VR July third had waltzed in, past, and went—
Nitebot: I need nine more bucks to pay the rent

The sun scuttered behind Tiny Tim’s
53 was sure late again as per usual
How many axles to get to the coast?
With Chat Room Mama, the feeling’s mutual

The swinging cam swung around to the north
Time for Big Daddy to majestically hold forth
We hunched all about the laptop screen
I think that caregiver’s about to pop her spleen

Two by fifteen by twenty-two was the count
Cookies to Jotis who called the count just right
And to Mother April and AC and another old railfan
Tis time for dinner so I typed out goodnight

Mr Squirrellton popped out and streaked across
Nitey nite from all, and COTU, our bestest boss
Poured out my soup into the saucepan pot
Added lots of curry, hope I’m never caught

But then the nurse burst in thru the door
And found us paralyzed, laughing on the floor
July third had waltzed in, past, and went—
Nitebot: I need nine more bucks to pay the rent

–Any resemblance to people real or imagined is completely risible
Happy July 4th!!!

Inauspicious

Twas an ordinary flying fellow
Heading home down the lane;
Thought he’d go visit
With his dear old lady again.

The lighted clock was now lit
While a train wailed from afar—
A local passing thru Ashland Town:
A manifest: car after car after another car.

Squirrels darted in and out the bushes
While that station camera squeezled back around.
Street lights spit alive then…at last…caught on.
In the chatroom, loving care shared all over by the pound.

Another new Summer night, half-moon graced a languid sky—
But crossing lights started to go on for poor old Myrtle Street:
Ditch lights slow grew to peek out from the lush trees
But station bells sounded behind! Could we all hope for a meet?

Our ordinary fellow was sure home with his gal,
A far flung flying day had found the setted Sun
And her tisker-taskets of screens and councils were finally over—
Vashlanders hooted or saluted, another day universally well-done.

Ashland 2018 Train Day

Miss Izzy B. Crumpett will come out to play
In her usual beautiful, most wonderful way—
To see all those trains from the south and then the north,
Ashland Train Day, you see, will again be holding forth.

Miss Izzy B. Crumpett has gotten the word—
2018 Train Day is to be on November the Third.
Record crowds are coming, be safe when you park,
Then try to catch COTU, Tender & Cinder, or Ken and Leroy, before it gets dark!

Miss Izzy B. Crumpett will have an exciting time
[Even if I cannot get it in all to properly rhyme].
Visit all the vendors, stores, and the Ironhorse Café,
I’m pretty sure y’all will have a most splendiferous day!

And take LOTS and LOTS of pictures of them trains on the CSX gauge—
We’ll love to see them posted on Virtual Railfan’s Lounge Facebook page!

Just A Summer Storm

It’s just another forgettable Summer storm;
Let’s stay inside where it’s safe and warm;
We’ll have another coffee and sit a spell;
Our Angels are about to keep us safe from harm.
OH! The old tree fell in the backyard!
While the rain pelts down so very hard;
Windows are all closed, it’s just as well—
Happy to be high and dry is this simple bard.
MY! How the lightning FLASHES and CRASHES so!
Outside, right about now, is where I’d rather not go;
But things are getting better, you can sure tell—
Those high winds seem to be blowing a bit more slow.
It is just another Summer storm that’s just passing on thru—
See ya tomorrow when again it’s sunny and our skies returned blue.

Transylvania

Yay hooray
Achieved intoxication
Sorta kinda in-home vacation
Stay home, don’t alive
Avoid tickets and all that kinda jive
Thursday night
A faux start weekend
What will the future subtend?
Muscles, tendons
Fascia in full alarm
Tho’ never meant you no harm
Need a haircut
And a full-time occupation
Please a reprise in a better situation
Breathing in
My book arrives from Amazon
Still here, tho’ rather’d be gone
A wonderful moment
Aspirin and merlot do attest
Brunettes t’embrasse really are the best
Yay hooray
Encountered Beatlemania
But there are still no vampires in Transylvania

A Mother’s Day 2018

A glass, a slice, and a red rose,
Loving items that I can propose
That we share with the ones we love,
Whether still with us or gone above.
A day, a night, and a dawning;
I apologize for all this fawning,
But you make the day worth doing
And the long drive coming home and pursuing
The heart that beats also as well for me
Even if I’m not all that deep or even worthy;
Any hug or kiss or quick embrace,
Here, or really any old place,
Though now the cat meows impatient for attention
But wait, did I share with you my intention—
To find new ways to love you every day
Come rains or storms or what changes may
Turn the page like a Masterpiece plot surprise,
I will forever seek myself in your kind eyes,
And share no matter whatever calamity throws,
A glass, a slice, and a red rose.

Finally, Rain

Finally, rain,
Met by the delighted cackle of a neighbor’s babe.
Come Inside…Come Inside…Come Inside—
There’s no shelter ‘neath that old lawn astrolabe.

O, the fantastic turns of waves of rain,
While its grumble of thunder shakes our lives.
Hurry Home…Hurry Home…Hurry Home—
To your children, and husbands, and wives.

The trees bend and lift,
To catch every little thrown drop of rain.
Shut the Door…Shut the Door…Shut the door—
Before we soak the atrium again.

Tempest passed,
Yet the gutters riot run full still.
Ca Caw…Ca Caw…Ca Caw—
Calls from the elm at the top of the hill.

Maple Leaf Dance

Faraway from the witnessing sun,
Escaped away from reproving glances of dead roses never sent,
Once dared think our love might grow,
But crushed beneath small expectation to answer for a knee unbent.
Loose laced shoes carry old feet forward on,
Stumbling with a book of ill written rhyme to find you there—
Polite as always but with nothing to add.
Assaulting the ramparts of indifference, I wonder if or should I care.
A frisson of longing ever lingers—
Some memories of dancing in our Maple Leaf Bar;
Happily ever after slips from old fingers
While an indifferent Moon grandly outshines any old star.

Avec Toi

I miss walking Paris
I miss Washington DC
I really miss those nice things
You used to think about me
I really like my neighbor
Even if I don’t know her name
Such things can’t be helped
There’s no one left to blame
The cat wants to meow outside
He doesn’t care much for Amelie
He just likes chasing whatever
Presents far away from me
I loved a Nordic goddess
I danced at her only wedding
We reconnected somehow on Facebook
Now I must vacuum, Jack keeps on shedding
I have seen true beauty
And felt arid with bottomless pain
I cannot understand the darkness
Kathy sees in Ashland’s daily grain train
I want to return to New Orleans
And lure the regard of a new pretty head
But I just write small lines in Austin
Watching Amelie avec a glass of Fonseca instead