Best Duffle Poems

I couldn’t understand the language she spoke,

at least not all of it,

but the emotion pouring past her lips, 

the tears in her eyes, her clenched and shaking fists

enunciated more clearly,

than any piece of English Poetry I had ever read,

and grabbed me, held me still.

 ...

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I was five years old when the war was over 
August, 1945, and my daddy sent word 
He was on his way home from Guadalcanal. 
Grandma was already preparing a feast 
For the family to celebrate his homecoming. 
Momma took her last ration token from...

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She is the eclectic cat lady
Pretty in pink wearing a daisy
You be the judge I think she's crazy
Bobby sock chic her scarf's paisley

One big duffle with many cats inside
she will show them off with the utmost pride
In the bag you can hear them collide
Still they...

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Each is a piece, a small part
of a composite that has come
together in a morning,
the frayed strands of dreams 
knitted into a waking timed now
to a slow tread on a familiar street. 
Then suddenly, careering through 
the center of my thoughts a train 
comes with...

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I lost a friend; Jason really loved his gin.
One night while he was on a binge.
He walked off into the deep end,
now no one has ever seen Jason again.

I lost a friend; his life was his duffle sack.
One day he headed to Iraq.
I didn’t know...

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I was one of the cool set,
navy blue duffle coat, scarf around
my neck, seated at a table
in Pepe's Coffee Lounge
discussing Baudelaire 
and T.S. Eliot and the demise 
of the political elites.
The conscription ballot hung 
over our heads helmeted
in a flowering of uncombed hair
in the winter...

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New sheets
Light a candle with that familiar smell
Who can tell?
I have come this far
Setting up barriers to box myself
To stop picking up the traces of when you left

Emptied your cabinet, filled your duffle bag
Pick it up when you’re ready
I’m moving on to something empty
Now I’m...

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No winter postcards of deep snow and bliss
No winter postcards of mistletoe kiss
Winter was cold, winter was tough
Winter was long and we all had it rough
No Father Christmas, no presents for us
No wide eyed kitten or puppy to fuss
Fantasy Christmas, fantasy tree
We had to live,...

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20 Line Haiku Hijack

I stole a haiku from Japan
Stuffed it in a duffle bag, added 20 lines
Fed it chocolate day and night before the flight
Then placed it on the market when I landed

Shrimp and whale tails make sound haiku 
Deliciously simple like sushi.  Japan...

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The bike was loaded and packed
The duffle bag strapped to the rack
The air was crisp when we started out at dawn
In the early morning hours we were gone 
Down the road with the wind on our faces
Off to visit some far off places 
Headed south...

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Yiu can walk a mile in a mirror stance and 
never feelyour own re reflection. Your glaze gaze
bends on invisibility--a certain humor
crosseyed cleverly cleared like the rooms in the 
Winchester House or a traffic jamitis through
 the Mac maze at sundown. Feel ferr to co...

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Sighing, he shouldered the old duffle bag
And followed others as they sauntered down the gangway
Free at last, from the ship's cramped and stench-filled quarters,
He smiled, at the crisp, fresh and bitingly cold, new day!

His feet, now planted firmly on the new soil,
Made him want to...

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No winter postcards of deep snow and bliss
No winter postcards of mistletoe kiss
Winter was cold, winter was tough
Winter was long and we all had it rough

No Father Christmas, no Saint Nicholas 
No bright blue, glass baubles, no presents for us
Fantasy Christmas, fantasy tree
We had to...

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When Laurie was just eighteen years of age
she fell in love with a brazen young man,
rode his own bike, knew just what to say,
ever quick with a joke was her Stan,
oh, the adventures that those two had planned.
Though both their families thought they were crazy,
they...

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His duffle bag is by the door
I ask him what they're fighting for.
He tapes the dog tags to his chest
gives the 38 one last test.
The baby's sleeping in the other room
he slowly puts his combat boots on.
He's got the shades, he's got the hat,
he packed...

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