Tag Archives: Poetry

The Lobbyist


I write to regain my bearings and reboot. It’s just not that serious our crazy life issues, right? I was a smoker when I wrote this poem. I guess The Lobbyist will be happy to know I gave up that bad habit! Poetry keeps me sane…


The Lobbyist

This woman at an elevator
Was lobbying against my smoke
The ash cans didn’t count for starting up
But putting out the choking fumes
I forced upon her

Not goodwill, money or sex
Could be extorted from that soul
No secret smiles of afterglow
Or posture of secured future
Friendship brings no floor
To hear the lobbyist

Her ride up was too slow
Then, she stopped short of the number
Pushed too hard and caused a shaft
To break her lift
That swayed her against me
Against us all


The Many Yous



boy with a hat

Frida Kahlo Digital Art - Picasso Blue Women by Sandra Silberzweig (c) Frida Kahlo Digital Art – Picasso Blue Women by Sandra Silberzweig

First, there’s the you of flesh and blood

And then there’s the you in my memory

And then there are other yous:

The you in my imagination, better than the actual you

The you in my thoughts, frequent and insisting

The you in my fantasies, naked and wild

The you I think I know

The you I don’t know at all

The you that is kind

The you that is mean

The you that you show me

When you are with me

The you that lingers after you leave

The you that inhabits me

The you that is all mine

The you I don’t have to share with the world

The you I cannot lose

The you that for me is more you

Than you

The you that is I.

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a Picasso kind of love



picasso bullring

he says…
evaluate love’s edges of
juxtaposing angles…
estimate the length of
constricting planes…
judge shadow depth of
ardor in each new arena

he says…
be aware of ceremony,
private in a crowd of
deflowered expectations…
where brave costumes
paint stark nakedness

he says…
beware soft warm mouths
that speak barb-ed words…
watch from framing stands
a ritual catharsis where torn
shouldering–weakened tissue
of resolve–flutters banners of
defeat in a final agony of
spilled lust and love

Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Pablo Picasso

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The Art of Living


Poems & People

As every drop upon a burdened leaf,
sojourns a moment, a moment brief,
why cans’t let not we burdens too
fall few where they once meant to.
This life is burdensome as it is,
lead not by self it far from bliss.
Please let all burdens fall my heart,
feigning joy perhaps is true art.

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Lessons Learned


Sharing a favorite writer!! Enjoy!

boy with a hat

Drifting Into A Dream By Helenka Wierzbicki (c) Drifting Into A Dream By Helenka Wierzbicki

If flowers teach us beauty,

Sunrise life,

Water thirst,

Noise silence,

And rain sorrow,

If clouds teach us hope,

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Make Hay While The Sun Shines


Make Hay While the Sun is Shining


What can be done today
Never leave till tomorrow
Yesterday is but a past
Tomorrow may never come
This reminds me of the saying:
“Make hay while the sun shines.”

Procrastination is but a thief
Little children never be deceived
Never allow a later spirit
To delay what you can do now
For you must, my dear friend
Make hay while the sun shines

Credit: Face2Face Africa

Worse Things Have Happened to Better People


The truth…

boy with a hat

Man Falling Illustration (c) Adam Niklewicz

Worse things have happened to better people,

Is the tragic thought that comforts me during hard times.  

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Standing On Their Shoulders- Langston Hughes


Reading the poetry of Langston Hughes encouraged my own writing. Hughes died on this day in 1967 at the age of 65 (Feb 1, 1902 – May 22, 1967).


Do Think of Me


A Must Share…

boy with a hat

Girl in the wind painting

After I am dead,

Do think of me,

When the wind plays with your hair

and tugs at your skirt,

When raindrops glide down your nose tip

and trickle under your dress,

When snowflakes melt on your lips,

And sunrays redden your cheeks,

For it’s not only the wind,

Or mere rain,

Or just some mindless snowflakes and sunrays,

But my longing for you lingering in nature,

outlasting death.

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