Poem from a Wrinkled Hag

Do not disturb.

I hadn’t written any poetry in a very long while , then one night – in the middle of the night – I woke up and scratched out these words on the back of an energy bill envelope:


Put pen to paper

one last time

wring a poem

from my aching soul

let the greedy mob trample it

en route  to the discount mall.

For that is what we have become

that seems what the buyers want

throw-away fashions

throw-away cars

throw away  gadgets

throw away stars

throw away words

from the mouths of babes

Pump it up, it’s the latest craze.

Or is it just

another heart to beat

on its way

to the next generation?


"I got a feelin' that tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good, good night!."

…and the next day I started to write poems about the sea, and post them here.

In my youth I wrote

angry poems, sad poems,

poems of passion, unrequited love.

Poems that rhyme and poems that don’t.

I rapped and hip hopped

before Eminem

wrangled and writhed

before Shakira, Beyonce,  and Will.i.Am,

way before anyone

even thought

“yes, we can”

I wore weird costumes

hats and hair

long before Gaga

became your “bestest” friend.

But it’s the poems about nature

land bound by sea, sky and stars

mother earth, the universe

that bring peace of mind.


Pause here if you will

browse the pages

crafted with determined will

to see beauty in the world.

That’s not to say

there’ll be no rants

but life has told me

I don’t stand a chance

if I don’t stop to gaze

in wonder, and amazement

at the awesome world around me.




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