Poems of a Free Man

I want to sit down and write the dimpled darling of this year's literary world. But first I must cook my dinner: A wonderfully savory supper of sauer kraut and cajun sausage Fried up in a pan; plenty of worstchestire and red pepper doused on for seasoning, then fried to a little bit of burn in some... Sign in to see full entry.

If you ever wondered if an American was loved around the world Go to Washington D.C., to the Lincoln Memorial Walk up the steps across the stone where Martin Luther King said "I have a dream" Walk into the shade of the large Grecian temple and see him sitting there Eyes cast down in sublime thought,... Sign in to see full entry.

My smoke destroyed lungs hold a breath of life I long to remember, when I was a young man and lived in a different country: That lost time of green shirts, body odor and fishing caps on the lake in Spring. May - when I'm ready to live again; American beer drunk from cans Fish scaled with spoons... Sign in to see full entry.

I like women. Speaking physically I love the way they are shaped, the way their skin feels like the softest, cleanest warm cotton sheet on a cold night when I am very tired, the way they smell when they are fresh clean and after they have sweated and earth smells reveal her organic nature. I love... Sign in to see full entry.

The battle which was all but won was lost with the setting sun On the second day of the year that would bring The climax of the nation’s suffering Through the blown out stumps of fields they charged Toward the river that soon filled with blood In an hour 1,800 fell From 52 canons placed on the hill... Sign in to see full entry.

I threw away your old coffee pot today. The glass was stained brown from the hundreds of pots you had brewed, The plastic lid had worked itself loose on the cheap hinge and hung in ways that annoyed me and caused coffee to drip all over the kitchen counter. A few weeks ago the switch stopped working... Sign in to see full entry.

Short poems are not like taking a road trip to the Utah canyon country to have a spiritual awakeniing Short poems are like a dog wagging its tail...but not for long...like a dog does immediately before you feed it Short poems are not fun to sit and try to get into in bed or on the beach Short poems... Sign in to see full entry.

Life is a bass drum playing a funeral march And I am that guy who keeps getting out of line, asking, "Are we having fun yet?" And the gods of the great walk reply, "No, this is a funeral march. Keep in time with the beat." So I find another wall to bash my head into, keeping time, Rejoining the... Sign in to see full entry.

Her kiss unfolds as a simple passion of life No thought, no learning; Like knowing to smell a magnolia flower, suck the juice of an oyster, or breathe in the clean air of sea coasts and mountain heights. Her kiss, the pull of her arms, the motion of her thighs is the best part of being human And... Sign in to see full entry.

George Washington is a multilayered voyuer of my problems lying on the bar casting a scolding eye at what I do and say Sign in to see full entry.