Where The Dead Whisper

ReadWritePoem prompt #85 from Doug Shaver's photo

Where The Dead Whisper

Spooky night on the horizon

here we are again

do you hear him?

do you feel him?

do you see him?

it's been exactly 34 years

since we buried him

here in Northern Michigan

they thought it was Tony Pro

who killed him

and burried him in darkness

beneath Giant Stadium

but, he shot himself

and we burried him here

at his request

in the cemetery of broken promises

where the dead whisper

Jimmy Hoffa's not coming back.

...........................................................NOTE : I wrote this poem today July 30,2009...not knowing that Jimmy Hoffa disappeared on this same day in 1975, exactly 34 years ago....YIKES!!!! ...now this is really SPOOKY

Drag Queens .....( Read Write Poem 84)

prompt was to choose 2 words from dictionary then use words between them. My words drag...queen



DRAG QUEENS

Dana danced in her lovely dress
Elton explored the johns
Franco flunked modelling schoool
Gerald gave herself to a gangster
Hogan hung out with bikers
Ivan illustrated for a fashion magazine
Jamie joined junkies getting fixxed
Kass killed her first lover
Landis landed in jail for hitting a nun
Marcos modelled in Miami
Nels never left his house during lent
Orton orchestrated a holdup in Denver
Paxton performed porno for dollars
Quincy quit her day job
Drag Queens in a Limousine
looking for Norma Jean

SANGUINE SUN.........painting by Wayne

Read Write Poem #83....prompt words used in red
(draft)


SANGUINE SUN

Sacred arches
etched in the sky
revival of promises
lost under stillness
cries of gallows that hang
that slump
concealed inside the vault
communion softly spoken
compassion has no fault
as the flaming fur
burning hair
lost hearts
will loiter beneath the graves
speaking in tongues
attending the seances
where the corrupt shall lie
akin an echo of a forgotten plan
and calmness departs into reflection
with an acuity of touch
holding the righteous chalice
hampered inside invocations
of bloodstained knowledge
where honor flows
taking the stolen stillness
of death
as only in living will sacred arches know
were selfish faith
below sanguine suns are saved.

Little Man in The Blue Shirt (Read Write Poem 82)

What are you doing up on the stage?
in your peyote trance
faking the god of rock
dreaming of Paris France

what are you doing up there?
screaming those obscenities
a fake rock hero
carving up your destiny

what are doing up there?
without LA WOMAN or LOVE STREET
no longer the PEACE FROG
a GHOST SONG falling on your feet

I'm the little man in the blue suit
watching you close the back door
opening the doors of perception
more and more a bore

Read Write Poem #81...prompt by flikr oncle jim

BEING DIFFERENT







Some called me autistic some retarded


always feeling discarded


empty and void


treated like a schizoid


always hoping you would be seeing


me as a human being


and not something wild


always treating me as a child


knowing I would never be mainstream


but always having a dream


I just kept hopping mile after mile


always with my smile


wanting to be free


and keeping my dignity


never caring to win or lose


just wanting to be able to choose


tired or being brutalized


and institutionalized


I might be different


even brilliant


sitting under my tattered umbrella


only me and my mantra