He came there every day
The casino was his second home
Maybe I will win today
He put his chips on the table
Then watched the ball going round
It did not fall on his number
Another unlucky day
I will come again tomorrow
Maybe I will win one day

thumb twiddlers
we write from hunger

poets
chirping birds
stich mouth chirr
pay attention to me

every poem
a song of need
a murky spray
in zebra tights
hugging the contours of an ass
stand in's and cut outs
that call please look

The sun shone down unbearably
on the July southern beach.
There was nowhere that I'd rather be
than with my love in easy reach.

The teeny boppers all strolled by
as near nude as the laws allow
(yes, I watched with hooded eye
I wasn't old as I am now.)

But every time my gaze came back
to my wife right there next to me
with her eyes closed while on her back
there where the land married the sea.

There once was a girl from Kentucky
Who had a fast horse she called Lucky
In high hopes he would race
It was such a disgrace
The Derby to him was horsepucky

Cricket, cricket softly singing
the same two notes time after time
in autumn with the chill it's bringing
an even cadence without rhyme.

I sit here waiting on a deer.
Not even aware I am listening
to the tune I'm lead to hear
while below a stream flows gently glistening.

And it just keeps going on
the sound leading me to almost sleep.
Then suddenly that sound is gone
By a tree frog's baser peep.

PARADISE
This poem is an outburst of a cloud of thunder of appreciation, by someone who is a wonder Rest you may all read onnnn

Where is paradise friend
someone asked
a masked NEOpoet like me
replied

Where else!

The winding path to paradise
you are welcome to
where human angels
as you know reside

I ain't an angel
but a simple poet of peace
who upon soles of human kind
adoration, appreciation only preach

It is not about money
or the beauty of the cloth,

it is not the way others point
either to praise, or to shame,

it is not what all the world
in all its wonder can convey.

It’s more that deep deep center
which collects the world to you.

It’s less those things coming in,
as light moving out from you.

I finally got the mower fixed
and with effort get off of the ground.
Those new knee's scars are still tender.
Too many years follow me around.

I straighten up, my shoulder hurts,
degenerating vertebrae you see,
which pinch on my spinal cord.
a broken old man, yep that's me.

With an old man's gait I leave the shop
up toward the house, it's near lunch time.
With head turned down I think of youth,
how I spent it like the merest dime.

It came to be when I was 9 years old.
We all went to the common on the fourth.
My sister gave me a piggy back ride
Because it was too far for me to walk.

The city had a huge carnival there.
My father was a police officer.
He got free passes to the rides we loved.
(Ferris Wheel, Bobby Horses, Octopus).

Of course a trip to the great carnival
Meant cotton candy and candy apples
Soft and sweet and the other crisp and tart
Got more on our faces than in our mouths.

If rain streams down
In cold rivulets, and
Freezes at the midnight town
And all those among you

Mis-read the forecast, furrowed
And deep frowned, look
For simple explication of
Stranger things you found

In the icy silken shade of cloth
That covers all your towns,
(at least in this hemisphere)
How strange, it would appear

That impasse in meaning met,
Could not the wipers clear?
Scarce I meant for my rain
To rent, a hole in your arrears