Silent Love
To love
Love Poem
silently love
is painful
(raw
tender);
you feel like
your always
in a corner.
You want to
approach
or wish you
had...
the silent opposite
the unknowing
opposite.
Still holding
onto
that silent love
holding on,
with both
hands.
You don't
even hear the
noises around
you
(coming in
or going out)!
There you are
with her-,
content
as a bear
with honey;
not even
a word said...
in this
romance.
A flat road
to nowhere!...
#2257 2-14-2008
Dust!
As I've traveled throughout the world and such
Now being in old age, I don't remember much
Along the way, a few kind and mysterious faces
The rest has turned into shadows and dust!
#2256 2-14-2008
Poet of the City
(Haiku)
When the city loves you
then, and only then,
will you be written in stone
(as a poet)!
#2255 2-14-2008
An Old Sheriff (a poem)
The old man sat in his rocker, on his porch,
back in 1906, sixty-six years old, an old sheriff,
from South Carolina. He sat on his porch, he
had put up his guns, retired some; and
out of the blue, came six-cowboys, one day:
one black, two Mexicans, and three gringos,
all totting guns, and tall hats, on horseback.
Before the old man could reach for his
shotgun, behind the door, the six men on
horseback, shot him, right in the heart.
He fell onto the floor and the six men on
horseback, just looked, and looked, and
stared, until they got bored. His wife, Anna,
was trembling tried to nurse him back, but
the old man knew, he was dying, his time was
taxed (unable to breath but a gulp air). And so,
the cowboys, one black, two Mexicans, and three
gringos, just up and road off, left, to who knows where,
and the old man died, and was swiftly buried,
so he wouldn't stink the air, and he left his legacy,
but no one surely cared.
#2258 2-15-2008
Poems - "Stupid Love" "Stupid Death by a Sheriff" "Poet of the City" & "Dust," Not So stupid
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