27 August 2012

Yacking and Bootblacking

Yacking and Bootblacking
24 August 2012

I've learned that without fail
Every pair of boots tells a tale.
As I sat on the shoeshine stand
My boots got polished by hand.
As the bootblack earnestly cleaned,
He talked of boot stories gleaned.
A person's boots become a part
Of their journey from the start.
My boots have gone many miles
Matching gay pride smiles.
Other boots helped the wearer bridge
Experiences on their pilgrimage.
The bootblack cared so very much
It came thru in his erotic touch.
Polish was bare-handedly applied.
Brushing was too fast to be spied.
In the end, not to be remiss,
He gave each buffed boot a kiss.

21 August 2012

Quarters' Importers and Exporters


Quarters' Importers and Exporters
21 August 2012


Calling:

All hail East, whose element is air.
Come, attend us, in our prayer.
Join us in our rite
As we celebrate this night.

Hail South, whose element is fire.
Be with us to grant our hearts' desire.
Dance and make us right
As we play this night.

All hail West, whose element is water
And whose animals are bear and otter.
Lend us your influence as we unite
To romp and frolic tonight.

Hail North, whose element is earth,
Help this tribe as we give birth
To mirth and our souls take flight
On this honorable night.


Releasing:

Hail color white and direction East,
Thanks for attending our feast.
You are now released.

All hail North and color evergreen,
Thanks for visiting us and points in between
We set you free, to go on serene.

Hail West and color blue,
We give you your due
And bid a fond adieu.

All hail South and color red
Thanks for the presents you spread
We say farewell as we head to bed.

We release back to your abodes
To resume your normal modes
Until called for future episodes.

14 August 2012

Afternoon Swoon


Afternoon Swoon
14 August 2010

After stepping out of the shower to recover,
I languidly stretch out across the bedcover.
A gentle breeze billows the sheers
As its fingers tickle my hair and ears,
And caresses my full-body bare skin.
I stretch straightening limbs again,
Then like a pet curl to the acquisition
Of a comfortable sleeping position.
Giving in completely to unwinding
And the afternoon's touch of cool,
I begin to breathe deeply, not minding
My mouth wide open and start to drool.

06 August 2012

Last Tune For Betty June


I got word that a second cousin on my mother's side had passed on.

Last Tune For Betty June
5 August 2012

My twin and I were born
Seven weeks before Betty June.
Her mother was no greenhorn,
BJ was fifth in her commune.
Our mothers socialized together.
It's hard to imagine whether
In school or church without her.
In grade school, as it were,
We lived thru the block
And played Pony Express
Using bikes as livestock.
Each person got to possess
A corner of the block and stand by
Waiting for a fifth to come by
With a pillow standing for
Postal delivery and more.
After graduation all went nomadic,
Living our independent lives
And keeping in touch was sporadic
As we got on with our husbands or wives.
We heard she was on dialysis.
And now she's gone, too soon,
Much too soon in our analysis
So it's bye-bye Betty June.

04 August 2012

Surprise Email

On the 31st of July I got a surprise email: "Congratulations! It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been awarded a First Place Gold Medal Prize for World Poetry Movement’s Best Poets and Poems of 2011 International Open Amateur Poetry Contest!" The award name is so long, I think they should have shortened it down to Best New Poet of 2011.


Here's the prize-winning poem:


Yesterday's Rose
dedicated to Hazel, Margaret, Betty and Doris
18 January 2012

While passing into my yard
By the white picket gate
I noticed the rose on guard
Had entered a wilted state.
When a faded petal goes
That's yesterday's rose.

Still wanting to belong,
Joining where she can,
Singing her own song
While hoping for a man.
Wearing old-fashioned clothes,
That's yesterday's rose.

She can still kick up her heals
And enjoys dining and dancing.
She know how it all feels
And what's life enhancing.
One of today's widows
Is yesterday's rose.

Looking for a good time
When she can whim it,
Spending her own dime
Within society's limit.
Not youth but wisdom shows
That's yesterday's rose.