Mark Stratton's Blog: AGGASPLETCH, page 24

Limerick – There Once Was a Man from Nantucket

There once was a man from Nantucket

Who brought his beer home in a bucket

He refused to add lime

to a brew so sublime,

And given the chance, he would chug it!

 

–

I know the first thing that went through your mind when reading the first line.

Which was part of the plan.  (Thanks for reading and if you've got 'em, drink 'em)

 

Guest Post Announcement

I am really excited to be making this announcement.  It's something that I've been working on with a slew of other gracious and talented writers to put together.

Starting next Monday (August 1) I will be running a series of Guest Posts by writers whose work I admire, enjoy and/or respect.  Poets and Novelists, published or self-published, it doesn't matter.  Writers of all stripes will be contributing posts about their Writing Space (or spaces).

For the month of August, I am planning on a...

Eavesdropping – Poem

Eavesdropping

Her bright red fuck-me 
shoes grab your eyes
    by the balls but

Her legs playing the guitar
solo across the room hold
    your attention.

What she is saying is 
clear to anyone listening
but
    she ain't talking to you.

====

I'd actually written this a week to ten days ago.  It seemed to fit the bill.

Thanks for reading!

Vacancy – Poem (One Shot Wednesday Week 54)

Vacancy

Standing there
    floating there
        dreaming there
on the reluctant floor.
Shimmering,  
        you tell me what I
        do not want to hear.

Dreaming there
    dreaming            there
        dreamy stare;
Above the improbable floor.

Dilettante clouds
viewed through
the reflections of
sideways glances,

So we sleep
                    sleep
                                sleep
searching for rest
yearning for rest, but
it   is  a   long   way  home.

–

Thanks for stopping by and reading .  This ...

Prayer

Prayer

The abstract notion of winter

Is appealing as the simmering

Humidity of July congeals my

Shirt to my spine with a lovers

Embrace. Meanwhile, I pray,

On my knees, for absolution.

And that's my offering for One Shot Wednesday

Thanks for reading!

Happy 4th!

It's been fairly quiet around the house the past couple of days. I took Friday off to get my wife's car fixed. The window on the drivers door had gone down, and wouldn't go back up. Needed a new motor, it did. Also, had lunch with my daughter which was quite nice. Capped it off by taking Elaine out for dinner at a local eatery. It used to be insanely busy, but it seems to have fallen out of favor the past couple of years. A real shame, as the food is still quite good.

Saturday and...

Poetic Junk Mail

I don't quite know why, but the Academy of American Poets keeps sending me "stuff." I haven't renewed my membership in some time. Today, for example, I got the Whitman Award winning book, "Curses and Wishes" by Carl Adamshick and the James Laughlin award winning book "Flies" by Michael Dickman.

Other award winning books have left me cold, and a couple have been enjoyable over the past couple of years. We shall see about these two. A quick skim of the Adamshick book was interesting.  The poem '...

Blank Stare Escape – Poem for One Shot Wednesday, Week One Year!

Blank Stare Escape

Whilst declaring

"I Am Poet"

Eyes glaze in collusion.

A blank stare hides the

Search for escape pods.

Whispers and unchecked

Baggage of moonlit

Butterflies that few can,

Or will, comprehend.

Mentioning Poetry

In polite Society

Is the agreed upon

Signal to employ a

Full Scale Retreat.

Minds fold up like

Disposable chairs

Rented grass quickly

Clears. Flee! Flee! Flee!

Leaving me to wonder

"Was it something I said?"

Then search for some paper

to note the event.

—-

Do you ever tell...

Blank Stare Escape – Poem

Blank Stare Escape

Whilst declaring
"I Am Poet"
Eyes glaze in collusion.
A blank stare hides the
Search for escape pods.

Whispers and unchecked
Baggage of moonlit
Butterflies that few can,
Or will, comprehend.

Mentioning Poetry
In polite Society
Is the agreed upon
Signal to employ a
Full Scale Retreat.

Minds fold up like
Disposable chairs
Rented grass quickly
Clears. Flee! Flee! Flee!

Leaving me to wonder
"Was it something I said?"
Then search for some paper
to note the event.

—-

Do you ever tell anyone, "I'm a p...

More Than These – Poem

More Than These

I am more than my cleavage
no matter how I display it

Your pale wet dream speech
can't cover your fixated focus

and I'd rather you just stare
as play it off like you're 'not

one of those kind of guys' when
we both know it's all frilly

bullshit as you prey for a better
lookie-lookie and that ain't

happenin' today. 
        Or  tomorrow.

I am so much more than my
cleavage, yet it's all you see

as I peer right through you.

===

Another Persona Poem, as the ideas from a recent #poetparty on...