The night was dismal and tumultuous
and felines fell, with canine teeth
and I would let no canine, virtuous
into this night, for it's beneath
such acid rain that only dastardly
and gutless masters would, if could
let out a canine. I'm not bastardly
and so I wouldn't, though I should
well, I've stopped to smell the roses
someone better tell me when
these contemplative, faux poses
satisfy their inner Zen
there is SO MUCH left to do
as I sit here and I stew
Author notes: painting by Michael and Inessa Garmash
What's in a face? A lifelong journey
of smiles and frowns you can't erase.
Dark, sleepless nights that follow mornings
that lead to days you can't retrace.
That's in a face. Well, and goodbyes.
You see those in their saddened eyes.
Author notes: image from yeyebook.com
a spiderweb, its filaments like steel
and yet how tenuous and flimsy
such is our life, by force of will
and often, whim or whimsy
interconnecting us
our daily labor
a trip by bus
a neighbor
we are
one
For you, my soul's unquestioned glories,
my queens and beauties, just for you,
those times of old, their fabled stories,
in times of leisure, be they few,
attentive to their ancient glamour,
I jotted down, my hands my aides;
Please do accept my playful grammar!
Though not expecting accolades,
I bask in fervent expectation,
a maiden, passion be her guide,
will steal a glance, if on occasion
towards my sinful stories' side
Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/poem/16005761-Translation--The-Shoreline--by-Pushkin-by-Agee
Socrates, he liked to tease
was the subject of much hate
Athens, wasn't hard to please
on the rest, there's some debate
She walked across the room, a feral cat,
a gait to make a man weak at the knees.
Her bodycon sheer black, and she, all that,
took out a cigarette, and gestured: please.
I fumbled for a lighter, hands unsteady.
No luck -- pants pocket jingling with loose change.
The desk's top drawer came to the rescue. Ready,
she bent her face towards me. "Something strange",
she said, a kitten toying with a mouse,
"is happening, my husband's not been home.
Can you find out if he's a cheat, the louse.
Please bring him back, wherever he may roam".
Recovering, I nodded, lit cigar.
I should have known it will be a noir.
Author notes: iambic pentameter (sonnet) format
vultures picking at a carcass
memories, gnaw at my bones
picking mostly at the darkest
long forgotten are the dawns
oh, I'll wave my hands and shoo them
they'll jump back a step or two
beady eyes, I see right through them
maybe I should throw a shoe
sitting on a park bench
eyeing little girls with bad intent
is so yesterday
nowadays Apple Watch tells you that
you have to get up
and keep that step count up
Author notes: with apologies to Jethro Tull image from flickr.com https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4zPu3ISCGs
gingerly, the ocean reaches
seeping in between her toes
scene you've seen on many beaches
careful not to wet her clothes
she rejoices in the water
ocean welcoming his daughter
Author notes: image from za.pinterest.com
When heaven made the cats, and crowned one king,
dividing them by genera and types,
the lions laid in privilege and bling,
with others making do with spots and stripes.
Then tigers leveraged their massive heft
to claim a kingdom, some would call it raj.
They, like their western brethren, will use theft,
and scavenge, though they lack an entourage.
What of the cheetah, fastest in the land?
Successful as it is in all its hunts,
why is this cat -- I cannot understand --
why isn't it a king -- the slight affronts,
offending my intrinsic sense of fairness.
The cheetah could care less; lacks self-awareness.
Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/poem/16015441-Chit-Chat-by-Agee
a dripping faucet
a whole world is in that drop
but the kitchen sink