my own poem

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

deserts are filled with shifting sand the polar regions with ice but the whole world would be beautiful if people would just be nice butterflies live for a single day turtles for two hundred years but no matter how long or short they last they have hopes and dreams and fears they want to live forever but such is not their fate as st peter plays dice wth lucifer in the shadow of heaven’s gate if the world had a birthday party and the universe was a clown and you were the magician would you turn that frown upside down?

elevator

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

when the elevator starts to take you where you don’t want to go and your friends used to be named eddie but now they are all named joe and the reporter wears a shade of lipstick that you have never seen and people look at you and laugh because your thoughts are unclean why did you say yes to the mailman when he asked you for an ice cream cone? didn’t you know his name was stanley and his girl friend’s name was joan? report back to the station with your passport and a bag of donuts and wipe that foolish grin off your face you pathetic putz i know civilization is collapsing but that is no excuse the evening sun is setting and blackie baker is on the loose if you can’t get the picture pick the beer cans off the stairs tell casey jones to fire the boiler and grandma to say her prayers

v

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

for previous poem in series, click here

verily i say to you the man on the fountain said behind his glasses his eyes were blue and his bushy beard was red the snow fell down in soft white flakes upon the sage’s shoulders the day was drawing to a close the air was getting colder verily i say to you the prophet repeated wishing he was in his room by the radiator warmly heated vic and vinny watched the man watched him as he spoke vic had a dollar in his pocket vinny was dead broke vic and vinny watched the sage and felt his secret fears he reminded vic of his uncle jack whom he had not seen for years a violin is playing in a room so far away the prophet climbed down rom his perch he had nothing more to say he then set off across the park with a trembling in his limbs what was he to vic or vinny or they to him? verily i say to you that everything must end you should spend your money if you have any to spend next

u

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

for previous poem in series, click here

under this undulating sky let us shelter beneath this tree i will tell you a story if you tell one to me up a lazy river across a placid lake sir lancelot went out one day his kingdom for to take the further shore was empty no castles did he spy but he resolved to conquer or in the process die he rode across a sandy waste and on an ashy plain he had never come this way before nor ever would again lancelot rode on and on his horse beneath him died he shook his fist up at the sky and in despair he cried how can i earn glory if no monsters show their face no villains ride to meet me and dragons leave no trace? under an undulating sky the hero turned to dust but other heroes, undaunted ride on, because they must next

t

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

for previous poem in series, click here

the tower rose in the twiight as the tarnished knight approached across a barren plain and up to a cold dark moat the princess sat by the window twirling her long black hair as the knight approached the tower unaware, so unaware the monster crouched in the shadows with his eyeballs burning low the knight had traveled many a mile but still had far to go the handmaid sat by the princess nodding as she sat the princess is so thin, she thought and the monster is so fat the raven flew above the clouds no message for to send it flapped its wings and wondered if the night would ever end the knight rode up to the tower and saw its iron door he had a sword in his right hand but he dd not know what for next

s

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

for previous poem in series, click here

stranger, stop a little while rest your weary soul the snake is in the grass and the jelly is in the roll seven surly saracens survey the sleeping child the sentry slumps against his wall strangely beguiled samson sleeps so soundly as delilah ponders fate she should be in st louis but it’s getting late the fox is in the henhouse but can’t find what he seeks jezebel stole the jacuzzi and now the roof leaks king solomon has sailed away upon his golden throne his dreams are strangely humble but they are his alone thank you, kind stranger for sharing your philosophy not of how things have always been but how they ought to be next

r

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

for previous poem in series, click here

running through the rain with my rabbit named ricky never stop to wonder why life is so icky the years fall down like pizza tossed from a plane keep on running running in the rain the miles roll by ricky turns into a rhino you in the rear keep it in line, oh grandfather johnson collected rocks and loved horses but the stars never wavered in their appointed courses grandmother turner wore long black skirts laughed at my pictures after all these years it hurts ricky was run over by a rampant rolls royce in the stillness of midnight i still hear his sweet voice next