Cole Porter

a fine composer
come and gone
before our time
lasting beyond

if he were a painter
there could be a wall
to pass everyday
with an image

why not display
an audio fragment
of great works
in public places

to hear a phrase
be reminded of the gift
to all of us
everyday

every time we say
goodbye
i cry
a little

showcase
beloved artists
to light the way
for the world ahead

i’d rather my tax dollars
bought art
instead of
arms and prisons

Song o' Little Balloon Boy

oh, gather round for the song
o' Little Balloon Boy
that sailed a fantastic flight
in a basket

as the world watched
but he was really hiding at home in the attic
and i must have been
eating dinner at the time

didn’t pay attention
until it made a big fuss
on the Net i read some
course you knew about it

maybe watched
and prayed for him
oh, long live the ploy
o' Little Balloon Boy

neil armstrong

i heard Neil Armstrong
and someone didn’t hear it right
for a quarter century they said it wrong
that july in ’69 i was 23 at 137 D in Coronado,Ca.

on the floor in front of the TV
when the 1.7 seconds delayed broadcast
coming 400,000 km from the moon
resonated around the globe

glowed black and white
the only light in our room
a he wobble hopped a bit down the ladder
and i heard one small step for man

one giant leap for mankind
and they said “for a man”
for years they did
but he said “for man”

a more generous oration
that included everyone
and i wonder, you can too, how accurate
other particulars of our world’s history are reported

monkey cap

my monkey cap
definitely the type
a chimp begging coins
along side an organ grinder
standing on the corner in 1930
or in the circus would wear

if he had a red cap on
and always did
with a string under the chin to hold it on
or if the animal was really clever
he’d pull it off, show his teeth and take a bow

not the sort of gear the stylish fellow’d wear
on a first date, an inauguration
or your wedding day
no one would be impressed
unless you weren’t totally in love and knew
it was heading for disaster anyway

but at home on cold mornings
with no points deducted for lack of charm
when insufficient warming sun rays come in the windows
a silly cap keeps my head warm while writing
and coincidently, i am ashamed to say,
sitting here eating peanuts

the comforter

the worn comforter on my bed
my mom’s mother made
during blue winter nights
before flicking evening’s fire

on her lap it kept her warm
working patiently with grandpa there
rocking quietly next to her
in his favorite wooden rocking chair

an era when a glimpse
from outside on the back porch brought
stillness, star sparkle and shimmering brilliance
not yet dimmed by city lights

even radio was a novelty
funny voices, laughter, soft music and stories
for cold nights near the stove
with a capped kettle of warm drink atop

amber glow heated drifting vapors
sweet odors filled their home
and didn’t whistle, it wasn’t necessary
the kettle on the stove gave humidity

they were home in comfort, telling tales, wishing
recalling friends , family and holidays
at peace, and not going anywhere,
they knew they were already there


From a time when a comforter wasn't a forty-five
but could have been called a peacemaker.

words and music by jack s.

part decorative wood from Lincoln’s time
half recently constructed stone storage space
all overlooks the economically withering small town and an ugly
car wash across the street with a coke machine that lights up

i have obtained a three thousand square foot
industrial building to write and play in
i like obtained because that
is more gentile than bought

and i didn’t buy anything,
i have embraced this space
it’s mine in my head, without papers
by word of mouth, mine

cause i’ve been in it
have photos and dreams of being there
producing massive amounts of gems
piles horded and distributed to the urchins

that look like overweight immature vandals
short people not developed in any sense
running in wild packs, probably to and from
that elementary school around the block

and the legends will be created
by slouching legions carrying torches in the night
mobs of immigrants cutting vegetables for soup
blocks away from any used car dealership and

churches with a monument for the poor aborted fetuses
and the saints of another culture, generations ago
that are told in prayers and whispers about
salt on the wound, would you do that

to yourself or animals unless for cooking?
i can get a caldron
it sounds more dramatic than a big pot
i’ll have to check if open fires are legal

but they won’t stop me from
dreaming about it
for all the belching smoke and the stench
i can produce in my dream caldrathon

zero to

clean slate, zero to ten
open your eyes, smarty pants
wet drawers, feed me
little dickens

ten to twenty ain’t i neat
i can dance and go so fast, glug glug
pledge allegiance, watch me now
got it all, i am the one, what’s to eat?

twenty to thirty, the pink
on the ball, in the game
standing tall, so proud, i know that
watch me now, overdrive

thirty to forty, classic steps
massive energy, step aside,
no problem, i’m so fine
so fine, so fine, watch the line

forty to fifty golden dreams
in the pocket, earned my way
pretty nifty, what’s to forget
obsessive solid rocket booster

fifty to sixty, formidable style
i believe in god again, on the safe side
proof in the pudding, justified
lord of the rings

sixty to seventy, did i tell you
stop and think, time is faster, i remember
count my blessing, give it away, did you know,
didn’t use it much anyway

seventy to eighty, thrifty
still count for something, we always used to,
mark my words, I forget
what i know is slower

eighty to ninety, overtime
still can some, count me, don’t recall exactly
hold tight, what i mean to say
what’s to eat?

it seems so very long ago
go ahead, clean the slate
when will they ever learn? return to dust,
such is fate, and taketh away

here's how

the Lakota/Dakota Sioux word
“hau” means “hello”
still is used today
varients are in the native speech
of many plains indians
the Tetons said “howo” or “ho”
Omahas said “hau”

and when the eastern Americans
saw the iridescent colors
shimmering, turning, twisting in the wind
and cascading from trees in the fall
they all said
as we do today
“wow”

number recorder

there was a guy in our town
had the job to write down the numbers
of every train car in and out of the mill
somewhere, someone might recall his name

a co-worker at that mill told me this years ago
witnesses at the time swore it was true
twelve or fifteen digits on every train car
how many I’m not sure, just say there were quite a few

the man’d watch twenty, fifty, or a hundred train cars pass
look at the numbers until the final car rolled on
then half his job was complete, he'd make a dash
into the office and write all the numbers down

the couple

after years together
it’s good you and i don’t dress identically
wear hair and shoes like one another
prefer to eat exactly alike

enjoy indistinguishable hobbies
have equivalent talents
read only the same books
think and talk as duplicates

because it has occurred to me
now that I’ve noticed in the mirror especially
visible proof, others see it too
for one – you’re shorter than i,

you see, we are different people
it's what makes the world go round
vive la difference
now how about a hug

i love you

i love you more than poetry,
summer days, hot dogs, warm sand, and baseball,
sweet corn, cross walks, my favorite books at the library.
green lights and Broadway musicals are nice,
so are pizza and spaghetti.

you are the sun and moon and stars for me
the clouds, the shining waves on the sea
practically, but not completely
not everything, i mean, sure, i love you
but i’m not ridiculous

awakened

awakened from dream
blink a few times
begin to function anew
somewhere beyond the swirling cosmic mystic
pull on my shoe
as into the drudgery i return
yes, did the socks already
it all comes back to me
looking out the window
while shoes, i lace ‘em
measure the weather
hasten out the door
and think of you

dark horses

loud as thunder charging dark horses
snorting, pushing, sweat, hoofs beats
just a thought
never met one, don’t plan on it

only an image, sound and the works
i’ll leave it on the way-back shelf in my head
may not mention it again
but you can never tell about things like that

just when you think you’re done with a thought
it pop reappears
well, i guess i don’t need a TV
giddyup… let’s get some oats

now is this a poem
or should i mark it down
as a dilation of my subconscious?
i’ll make a note to look into it

snow birds

while what i write of frogs, robins
eagles, egrets and blue jays is true,
these small dark birds are unknown to me
they may be what some call snow birds

thirty or forth going fast, no pattern
landing everywhere in the yard
on the lawn, bushes, lily pads
the plank over the pond

completely scattered and quick,
when i stepped out on the porch
they departed, in many directions
not together, but nearly at the same time

the weather is chill now
already growing late fall
they may be what some call snow birds
for sure, can’t say, i’ve no idea at all

Nobel Prize Poem

heads up, electorate,
hold it right there
keeps your hands where we can see ‘em
wagons in a circle, easy now, easy

at last they’ve given up
the attempt was never wise
there will be no Nobel Prize
for the discovery of curly fries

young lady in the short skirt in the first row
nice disguise, my eyes advise
you close your thighs (sighs)
there's no fries prize

discovery

took a drive out to the country
tree green's already changing
another month for full color
then leaves'll get crispy and blow

on the way back bought some sweet corn
at a well honored local farm
the kids are working today
another generation learning the way

briefly stopped at a farm sale and auction
saw the accumulation of years
another old timer is selling out
moving to town to be closer to hospital

you know, every line here is a story
every sight we saw is a poem
all we had to do was take a drive into discovery
and not so very far from home

dream vs. think

she swirls in dream
sees people milling about
both big name stars
and unknown faces

has a fear of heights
but loves high places
when soaring like a bird
while she does that, i’m thinking

orderly in the dark
planning tomorrow
making mental notes
forever wide awake

as she dreams wonderful
night after night, it’s true,
I stay awake thinking, i think
or it’s what i dream i do

one day

one day you will
walk in their shoes
technology will enable you, more than
holographically, to be anyone, anytime

replay historical events
with you in the leading role
costume, makeup, sound, lights, music
action – the real thing

make the discovery, explore new lands
ride the wild horse in the wind, be the hero
wear the crown, sail the space ship spinning
through crack flashing bright lights of time

accept the award in front of the masses
take the bow, receive the honor
it’s the winning ticket
ladies and gentlemen, some day

right now splash cold water on your face
wake up, get ready, eat a half-ass breakfast
it’s morning, get moving
later you will fold back into dream

early october

early October
Friday evening comfortable
i slip out to the back porch
sit on the old white wicker settee

drifts of light air on prevailing winds
bring the urgent tap, tap tap of snare drums
fractured crowd noise barely audible
dribble in with fragments of the field announcer
at the high school football game a mile away

in mostly quiet i see the trees, white houses,
all the way down a block to the church steeple
the pond falls ripples near me in the backyard
swirling clouds above
block out the moon and the stars

i think of Rome and California
places in between
once or twice,
faces from the years
parade by unseen
as memories not precise
and i remember you

over my shoulder

of course i recognize my inspiration
when i see it reflected back
no surprise, i put it out
to be enjoyed and used

as when releasing butterflies
expect them to flutter and breed
while always a few you'll find
dead on the sidewalk

safe keeping

three cop cars and a canine unit
popped fast in front of our house
suddenly neighbors were about
to wonder, confer and yap things out

seems a next door neighbor lady
hopped the fence slick as a goose
has a gun, is suicidal,
now she’s out there on the loose

an acquaintance drove by our group of talkers
reported, one street over
by the river, cops did the dance
and put the lady in an ambulance

one cop car in front of my house
was left keys, motor running
I thought to get in, can you believe it?
drive it around the block, and leave it

there was more than one witness
thank god I’m not witless
no one ever thought enough
to pay me to think, ‘cept funny stuff

blue jays

blue jays like peanuts
in the shell
but we crack them
to makes it easier for them

they take one away
up in a tree
hold it down with a foot
and crack it with their beak

here’s the system
he squawks when he’s around
we squawk back and
we come out with peanuts

throw two peanuts
the bird will fly down
picks up each, one at a time
and always leave with the largest

chill gusty wind

done’s summer calm
balmy nights gone
October wind crackles
closed up, heater’s on

branches in motion
snap sticks cascade
blue jay flew in
for a peanut i threw

fierce out there
no easy street
they goin’a make do
bird’s gotta eat

each night

Chicago radio news
some early morning
a quarter hour recap of
weather, traffic and murders

woman caught a stray bullet in the neck
two cousins 17 and 19 both in college
no known reason why it should happen
fifteen youths killed a fine student

and on, and on, dog’s blood
so sorry, brutal cruel, shame
as it goes on, many weep
a nation turns it’s head to sleep

robins return

from an earlier account i see
the final day of august they left
all together now they’re back
bluejays, cardinals winter stay

alert robins all, use the same calendar
returned this final September weekend
to eat, grow strong, then fly south
when it’s red, while leaves fall

love test - completely accurate short version

question one
has he ever told you
that he’s finished watching
either live or televised sports
and would rather be
shoe shopping at the mall
with you?

question two
if the answer to question one is yes -
did you know he was lying?

question three
what’s for dinner?

rock o' my soul

on the piano did a vamp
thought of old tunes
school choir did one
rock my soul, oh rock o’ my

clap your hands, let the thing go on
so wide you can’t it around it
after a while the pulse lifts you,
over an over, hypnotic

picks you up, take you down the street
remembered a long ago city kid
mister, i know where you got ya shoes -
you got ‘cha shoes on you feet


repeat the last line until
you're blue in the face

i am Wicks, i'll be your server tonight

well, Wicks, hi, i’d shake hands but
obviously, you’re moving too fast
i’m jack, but i’d prefer you call me grandpa
no one else does

well they do once in a while
but they live a half a planet away
grandpa jack is what they say, but
plain grandpa is more enduring don’t you think

my grandparents lived thirty minutes away
but people didn’t drive as much back then
a half century ago, one i’d see one once a year
the other i’d see Christmas and Easter

anyway, doesn’t matter to anyone now does it.
say, my sister Nita taught me to drive
when i was eleven in her old Oldsmobile on Rye Beach Road
i’ll have to ask her if she was married then

parts of the story are unraveling
and half the cast have gone away
i’ll look into that, gone away stuff,
someday, won’t we all

listen, Wax, you don’t mind if
i keep talking to you, do you?
not out loud, in my head, think talk like
blink if you can hear me

key variations

musical keys themselves sound differently
this is something i learned
from my excellent classically trained teacher
who studied with a student of Franz Liszt

d was strong, military marches or something
i don’t remember any more,
except to say keys
have different affects and uses

i Googled and found emotions relating to keys
this age has lost sense of the variations of the keys,
volume and electronic reproduction
has diminished that nuance in their shadow

beyond poetry

or maybe this is real poetry.
This is a thirteen year old
who has blogged for two years
and has four million followers.

At the rate I'm going
I could easily have four million followers . . .
in less then two million years. Wait - let me work on that math and get back to you.

(on the link: I love the photo of the designer and the blogger.)