Monday, January 31, 2011

Poem #136

If you swim to Portugal
then crawl to France,
by the time you arrive
you might have no pants.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Poem #135

You anticipate my every move
because I lack spontaneity.
You know whether I'll bring the gloom
or lighten things up with some gaiety.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Poem #134

I dreamt I stood upon a ledge
and pondered what was past the edge.
I looked out into misty haze;
saw a future twisted maze.
I stepped back safely to the past
and hoped the comfort there would last.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Poem #133

Your hair, your hair,
so shiny and soft—
truly a wonder
how it stays aloft.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Poem #132

Curses! My verses—
You don't even bother to read.
I write them special for you.

Ojos and yo-yos,
a magical steed,
and watch this: gobbledegoo!

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Poem #131

I love you still.
I always will.
Even when I'm over the hill.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Poem #130

I tried being younger.
That was fine until now.
Now I'll try being older.
That seems right somehow.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Poem #129

Here are some theses
and there are some thoses.
I must have misplaced
your dozen red roses.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Poem #128

Salt and pepper
rhyme with malt and leper
but how can that help a poet?

I could tell you your love
fits me like a glove
but I think you already know it.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Poem #127

I don't know why you fell for me
but I sure am glad you did.
You make me so much luckier
than any other kid.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Poem #126

All that remains
of dinosaurs is birds.
All that remains
of dead poets is words.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Poem #125

If you wear out your jeans
or wear out your sole,
it's easy to notice.
Just look for the hole.

If you wear out your welcome,
how can you tell?
There's no telltale damage,
no telltale smell.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Poem #124

I owe you a poem.
I owe you a kiss.
I owe you some hugging.
I owe you some bliss.

This followed a day on which I didn't get around to composing a new poem.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Poem #123

The color of your eyes
changes sometimes
as does the color of your hair.
I love the colors
of all of your parts
all the time and everywhere.

Gushy love poem.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Poem #122

When you kiss me with your lips,
it makes my heart turn gentle flips.

This is definitely a gushy love poem.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Poem #121

A smidgen of pidgin
can go a long way
but knowledge from college
will more likely pay.

Not a gushy love poem!

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Poem #120

If you were a star
up high in the sky
I would step out
to see you nightly.

Yet another.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Poem #119

Nobody loves anybody
more than I love you.
Anyone who says he does
doesn't know what's true.

Another gushy love poem.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Poem #118

The first mile we walk,
it's easy to talk.
The breathing's still easy to time.

After the second,
I notice home's beckoned.
But we still push ahead.

Three miles done,
it feels like we've won.
But still there are miles to go.

With four miles down,
we've passed through the town.
I think I can still make this rhyme.

After mile five,
we're still quite alive,
though I start fantasizing of bed.

I find the sixth mile
feels like a trial.
When it will end, I don't know.

With the seventh mile past,
we see home at long last!
And isn't it just about time?

This poem was composed after my darling wife and I went for a seven-mile walk. I like the complexity of the rhyme scheme here. Each stanza is AAB and the last lines of the stanzas are ABCABCA. I'm not really happy with the last line of the first stanza, but such is life.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Poem #117

When I see you smile
I am happy.
I can't help it.
It's beyond my control.
I think
this is as it should be.

And again.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Poem #116

You are,
to me,
a greater treasure
than all the diamonds
I can't afford to get you,
all the jewels
and precious metals,
all the wealth in the world.

Gushy again.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Poem #115

Harmony, melody,
dissonance, assonance,
also rhythm and rhyme,
all of these things in their time.

I think this one's especially terrible. Sorry for that.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Poem #114

How many ways
could I possibly say
that you are all I need?

For you I would walk
and for you I would talk
and for you I would even bleed.

Yet another of those gushy love poems.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Poem #113

I love when you sing
your songs to me
with made up words—
the lyrics only you and I
may ever know.

My darling wife sometimes makes up lyrics to songs. I'm not sharing any of them with you.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Poem #112

I love your kiss;
it gives me bliss.
I love your touch
so very much.
I love your smile
all the while.
I hope to hear your laughter
for happily ever after.

Such a gushy love poem!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Poem #111

I've discovered that
Libbets' stamina is
greater than my own.

I composed this haiku after taking Libbets out for a walk/jog of a few miles. It seemed that I got tired out quicker than she did.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Poem #110

I may not announce my love for you
with a lightning-like flash
and a thunderous crash
but I hope that you know that it's true.

I happen to like the ABBA rhyme scheme.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Poem #109

Flailing, growling, baring of teeth,
barking, gnawing, falling asleep.
Specialties of Libbets,
old lady dog

Just a little sketch of some of the characteristics of our border terrier, nearly 11 years old at the time I composed this poem.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Poem #108

It will never be
wrong for me to love you as
much as possible.

A gushy love haiku.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Poem #107

If love appeared as light,
my love for you'd be bright…
brighter than the sun.
Now wouldn't that be fun?

Back to the gushy love poems, of course.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Poem #106

It's not a myth:
I am full of hunger
and my thirst is raging.
Nothing to do with
carhops getting younger
or vampires never aging.

The last remaining carhop restaurant in New Hampshire happens to be The Fabulous Fifties, right here in Newport. We went there for dinner and ordered from Autumn, one of the carhops there. We know her because she used to date one of Beth's coworkers. She seemed years younger than she had seemed when last we saw her. That was part of the inspiration for this poem. Another part was Beth's fascination with the question of whether Bella would be wiser to go with Edward, becoming a vampire and gaining eternal "life", or to go with Jacob and get access to a bazillion abs, without risking her eternal soul. I believe I actually composed this between placing our order and getting it delivered. Hence the hunger and raging thirst.