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Monday, July 20, 2015

Geezer poem


Sonnet for An Old Goat
By GC SMITH

A boat is what a man must have by Gol
to float him out upon the salty brine
where he can fish for fishes with a line
to devour gustily with chilled white wine

Then there’s the racy Targa Porsche
with which to race up hill and then down dale
with tires squealing loudly in the corners
truly a hot rod with a canvas top

With tools and guns and stuff like fishing rods
I will round out my big boy box of toys
you know, I need all of these great toy treats
to recompense myself for dues I’ve paid

Now I have time to become unwired
‘cause from the rat race I have long retired 

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

BOOM!!!!!!!!!

For Independence Day
July 4, 2015
By GC

America, America
we once were
proud of you;
you shined
a beacon
for the world
to see,
people
flocked
to you

Your light was
that of liberty,
of opportunity,
of embracing
disparate peoples;
you looked for truth
for better ways
for all of us
to live

Oh yeah.
there were the warts
the stops and starts
the imperfections
the injustices,
but
through the years
from founding days
till recently
you always
tried to
do much
better


But now,
You’re sadly,
badly worn,
you seem to have
lost your way;
but I still hope
it’s temporary,
and will we
soon see born
a new and better
day?

Perhaps
we will.
I hope
we do.

Do you?




Tuesday, June 23, 2015

At Zoetrope: The Day the Poetry Died


Requiem 
by GC

 It's goodbye 
to Sunday poetry 
almost as if there's 
no more American Pie 
no Chevvy 
no Levee 
we cry 
because yesterday 
6-21-2015 
was the sad day 
that Sunday poetry 
 was to die 

 R.I.P. Sunday Flash Poetry 
A Zoetrope Tradition 
2001-2015 

 (6-22-15)

Monday, June 15, 2015

Live it!

It's A Hungry Life
By GC

Life can be a rib eye steak,
bloody red and waiting
to be devoured by a
gluttonous world

Life can be a petit four,
pink and white, sugar coated,
ever ready to assuage
a hungry world

Life can be a Hershey kiss,
brightly wrapped in foil,
waiting to be tasted
to be savored

Life can be moonshine whiskey,
distilled through an old auto radiator;
fiery raw and poisonous,
tearing guts, blinding us.

Life can be a jug
of heavy cream
to sooth the wild beasts
who roam our worlds

That's life, the good and the bad of it,
the smooth and the rough of it,
the tranquil and the wild of it;
life, she's a funny old possum

Sunday, June 14, 2015

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Lazy Daze
By GC

I should
have
done it
yesterday
but tomorrow
is
an other day
so
here in the
hammock
is where
I'll stay
today

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Such a deal


Free BooK @ Amazon: May 10 through 14.

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Sunday, April 19, 2015

Some History

Anthracite
by GC

 Deep beneath Pennsylvania mountains
the precious black gold of the last century
was found in in wide veins that run horizontally
interconnected by tunnels reached by rickety man lifts.

 Back then, sinewy men with hammers and chisels
cut the hard coal from Mother earth's tenacious grip
their kith and kin worried about the inevitable cave in
while fat cat owners sat safe in plush offices, gentlemen's clubs, and mansions.