Best District Poems

Fingers of light pierced the clouds caressing the moors
with life giving warmth, purples, browns and greens of
heathers mingled, blended, in a union of beauty. Yellow
of gorse splashed in the sultry, hazy spectre of natures
superb canvas. The dry stone walling lay sporadic, lost,
decaying in time and...

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No saints amongst us write a father’s song,
He writes his own which claims no innocence,
As tones of sadness urge he move along,
His pen now takes the stand in his defense;
Atop the desk where sit respondent’s words,
Are pictures taken of his darling girls;
For them he’d fight...

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...Dedicated to the memory of my great Uncle Fred,
Spanish American Veteran & worked a "night job" during
the depression, while supporting wonderfully my Mom's
family on the south side of Chicago, when she was young,
Grandpa had lost everything, but Uncle Fred saved our family



I have never been...

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The Country District Nurse

If you listened to the gossip down the street or at the mall,
That someone had been hurt, or had a fall,
You could bet your boots that she was there
With her navy blue bag, and her hat on her hair
Right up the front...

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Languid days of Summer set me afire
Amber sun beams delight my heart.
King Fishers as they dart past
Each one swoops as it flies to its post.

Down by the river's edge
I watch, and listen-
See each one as it dives -
Then, back to its perch.
Resting there awhile as...

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They took no hostages, and told no lies
Politics and power like attitudes
Gets sour by the hour.

The Sadist will wear many hats
Briber of those who cower
Who bows to pseudo facts?

It takes clear minds to fend off evil
Some folks seem astute
Yet they're far from civil
Collective power...
That reigns...

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Curbside romance


Picture in a magazine
Leering at a beauty queen
Short shirts and dirty mack’s
Waiting for red light perhaps
A furtive glance
Curbside romance

Fake smiles through
Red violent lips
Faded faces worn
By times constant grip

High heeled whores
Strut like flamingos
On their way
To another nights work

Woman in a window 
Peering down the street...

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I don’t know why crowd cover this,
Atmosphere full of air pollution
River full of chemist contamination 
I don’t know why seedy cover this.

There are buildings stand sturdy
As the inner of economic
As the base of legality
As the nodal of metropolitan cosmic

But slumber still mushrooming
They have and they...

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The blue sky, vast deep blue sky
the crisp cold green grass beneath
and between the two - just me!

no moment of loneliness 
but of bliss, of existence,
and thought of self and just be!

no trees to block the clear view,
sheep graze quiet, faraway,
fragrant blossoms down the lea!...

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redlight district
an ambush of tigers
at every corner

...

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Short shorts skirts and spike heeled shoes

In the Red light District of your town

On the darkened street corners

There's pleasures of the flesh to be found.


Blondes, brunettes and redheads

Working girls they are.

They earn their living selling flesh

To hungry men with expensive cars.


In the Red light District...

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Cloth, clothing, garb, la ropa
Sure beats Prozac, or even L-Dopa

Hemming, cutting, measuring, looping
Snappy dress keeps those smiles from drooping

A blouse, a suit, a shirt, a shawl
Strange young tailor masters them all

‘Can’t wait! Must have! Quick! Hurry!’
‘No excuses, tailor, to you I’m judge and jury!’

Shame, fear,...

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I went to Uganda
a number of years ago,
to the Gulu District,
way up north.

Near where Joseph Kony
and the LRA had been.

We set up a clinic
in a school
that had been built
on one of the killing fields.

We brought in all our food,
slept in tents,
and cooked over propane.

The sunrises...

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Fireworks slide down the back of my tongue

Some went north to imitate stars, 

knowing all to well they wouldn’t even make it to the stratosphere

A fire can’t breathe with no air

Ask that man in the alley why he has to shoot black skies into his...

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I was the lucky one
The apple of his eye
He chose me to walk with him
The memories will never die

Two brothers older, two sisters younger
And I the middle one
Although he is with me no more
I'm still my father's son

Woodstock,Athlone,Mitchell's Plain...
We toured mostly by foot and sometimes...

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