The Summertime Prince

This is not a teaser…and anyway it’s officially not Tuesday anymore.

I wrote this poem almost two years ago. It’s about the guy who um, initially inspired the *love interest* in MIND FIRE, which I had begun around the same time. Writing the poem got me excited to finish the novel, ~*mah first novel*~, so…it’s definitely not the greatest, but it is special.

~*~

The Summertime Prince

 

For twenty years, he’s carried that staff

selling his pretzels, with a bow, and a laugh.

Wooing young maids in his Renaissance style

light kiss on the fingers, a dazzling smile.

But mums guard your daughters the rest of the year

he’s a shape-shifting dragon, or so I do hear

Come winter, a pirate’s ship he will sail,

down to New Orleans, into port with a hail!

To tend bar for his brethren of fallen souls

writers, actors, politicians, he’ll wear all their clothes

Even a mendicant mask, he dons with a wince

he’s no stranger to it, this summertime prince.

And when the last snow melts from the gray New York skies,

“Tis time for the Festival!” home again he will fly

To wield staff anew, and break a young girl’s heart

in the deep Sterling woods, romance is his art.

Those blue eyes will settle on full ruby lips,

nothing taken for granted, curving bust, swaying hips.

And with a “Huzzah!” grasps his naïve young lass

In beautiful talons, she’s his prey, oh alas.

 

Emo-ly Dickenson

.

The fun thing about this is it can EITHER be read to the tune of Gilligan’s Island OR as my new alter-ego Emo-ly Dickenson. Since the real Ms. D never titled her work, neither will I. Cuz it doesn’t DESERVE a title. ;-P

So my airline flight got all jacked up
no, not into the air
the computers in Chicago blitzed
and my plane was just not there.

Her plane was just not there.

So my moms comes back to get my arse
from the airport late at night
and "yer father will take you at 6AM
cuz that’s inconvenient." Right.

And tomorrow will be so much fun
I will hardly feel the pain
when my connection is missed once again
and I wish I’d taken the train.

Wish I’d taken the TRAIN,,,,

p.s. I’m flying UNITED AIRLINES in case anyone wanted to know.

'Burbia

 Being as on-top-of-it as I am, I just discovered that April is National Poetry Month. Doh!
So just to keep my tardy rhythm consistent, here’s a poem I wrote – back in 2006. I dunno, it still seems appropriate.

‘Burbia

Into the undulating sea we plunge, through the waves
of pastel siding and asphalt shingles -
where houses shade trees, more than trees shade homes.
Each quarter-acre grotto, a bourgeois shrine
to urban periphery.
Where battles are fought in trim paint and shrubbery
with labrador and sport-utility mascots.
And wind whistles through split-rails and easements
like caves exposed at low tide.
But the lighthouse only flashes
that credit is existential
and we slip beneath the lapping red tide
to our debt.