Title blurb




"From one LIGHT come many colors." ~GJ Dürrschmidt

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Morning Would




I’m awake at
five forty seven,
feeling perky,
and a
little bit lewd;
drinking a
vodka-orange,
eating leftover
Chinese food.

Think I’ll go
sit outdoors
in my undies,
and welcome in
the new morn;
perhaps it’ll
inspire poetry,
perhaps with a
slight hint of porn.

~gj duerrschmidt



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Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Taboo (a poem): In the quiet stillness I would lay...




In the quiet stillness
I would lay,
dreaming about how
we might play;

if I weren’t as timid
as a mouse,
and got you to come
to my house;

we’d run our fingers
here and there,
tickle our bodies so
young and fair;

clothed in darkness
in my room,
under the blankets
I’d assume;

touching new places
we’d not been,
doing what’s natural,
far from sin.

How sweet the tho’t
of me ‘n you,
fucking back then, if
it weren’t taboo.

~gj duerrschmidt



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Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Shades of Gray




Cast
aside
your
need
for
black
and
white,
and
play
with
me
amid
the
shades
of
gray.

~g
  j

 d
 u
 e
 r
 r
 s
 c
 h
 m
 i
 d
 t





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Sunday, May 13, 2012

The French Fry Lady




In a busy, crowded
diner,
sits a white woman,
middle-aged,
and
middle class;

Having lunch with
her lady
friends, sharing
gossip,
and
talking crass.

While at another
table,
sits a black woman,
poorly dressed,
with
a young son;

Leaning to tell
the boy
they’ve enough
for one small soda,
and a
burger on a bun.

The three women
soon
get their lunches:
deluxe everything
with
tons of fries.

The young mother
tries to
dissuade her son,
not to stare
with
hungry eyes.

 Calling the waitress
over,
the white woman
quietly asks
another
plate of fries,

To be added to her
order,
but taken to the
mother and son,
free,
as a surprise.

The young boy
smiles
with eyes so big,
when the fries
are
first set down.

Knowing there’s
no such
thing as free lunch,
his mother turns
and
looks around.

In a busy, crowded
diner,
sits a white woman,
middle-aged
and
middle class;

Having lunch with
her lady
friends, sharing
gossip,
and
talking crass.

~gj duerrschmidt




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Saturday, May 12, 2012

Diversery Rhyme: Three Men in a Tub




Let’s take a little time
with  a nursery rhyme,
about these three
guys bathing.

It’s innocent enough.
They’re in the buff.
But, to some it might
seem scathing.

Rub a dub, dub,
three men in the tub?
What was that author
thinking?

Three strapping studs
playing in suds,
grabbing for soap
that’s sinking!

“Ooooh, that’s not it,
you silly twit!
Here, let us both reach
in and help you.”

Rub and tug, tug,
three men in the tub,.
oh what big fun in
such a small venue!

~gj duerrschmidt

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Thursday, May 10, 2012

Same Sex Marriage: You May Now Hide the Bride




I’m covertly in love with someone,
who prefers that no one else know.
When I call him on his cell phone,
a faceless icon appears, yes, it’s so.

I’m forbidden to be on his Facebook,
for all his friends and family to see;
how could he explain my comments,
he says, and justify what he is to me.

We’ve lived two lives for years now,
outside, we are simply good friends;
but in private we morph into lovers,
burning with passion that never ends.

Now he’s talking rings and marriage,
but demands that I must first agree,
to keep the news that we’re husband 
and husband, between us for eternity.

~gj duerrschmidt


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Sunday, May 6, 2012

Florida Keys: Paradise Interrupted (or, an old man's lament)




So, I sit and wonder
     laughing at my inability
     to surf the Internet
as I scratch my gut
     reminding me that
     I’ve lost my desirability
to the young and beautiful
     and, ask myself why
     why, damn it!? Why?
How has it gotten this way?
     and here I am again
     another weekend alone
clutching my remote control
     eating macaroni and cheese
     in my luxury Florida beach home
an old guy and a hundred houseplants
     tropical fish and a dozen wind chimes
     given up on material dreams
watching my sons become alcoholics
     and my cock
     go unused

~gj duerrschmidt


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Saturday, May 5, 2012

Past Perfect (or, Tale of a White-Haired Pauper)




I’m drinking yesterday’s coffee,
and dreaming yesterday’s dreams;
I’m wearing yesterday’s clothing,
that’s faded with unraveled seams.

I once made more than two million,
then lost even more than I made;
I’m now an old, white-haired pauper,
whose debts will never get paid.

Voted the best dressed in high school,
the one who’d most likely succeed;
no clue as to what the fuck happened;
to know now, there’s really no need.

What I know is the future came quickly;
there’s no time left to alter its course.
I suppose that it’s time I accept this,
after screaming real loud ‘til I’m hoarse!

~gj duerrschmidt



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Volkswagen Bus from Nantucket




There was a Volkswagen bus from Nantucket,
while having its oil drained off in a bucket,
said with a grin, as it slowly poured in,
“I’d finish quicker, boys, if you’d suck it!”

~gj duerrschmidt
 
 
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Friday, May 4, 2012

Rain Dance




Waited all week
to light a fire;
to suck suds
with buds
was my desire.

But, it’s raining,
the wood’s
getting wet;
not to party’s
such a regret.

So I say…

tho’ it may seem
somewhat insane,
B.Y.O.B.!
Come play
in the rain!

Let’s dance naked
around the pit;
get drunk,
get wet, not
give a shit!

After all, when all’s
said and done:
who’ll care?
what the fuck?
Let’s have fun!

~gj duerrschmidt


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Thursday, May 3, 2012

Chillin' in the Slow Lane





Too much rage and anger,
too much speed and guile;
I like driving slowly,
making people smile.

An icon from an era when
youthful voices cried for
giving peace a chance;
making love, not war;

I now make memories shine
on wrinkled, grinning faces;
of roads once traveled,
of long forgotten places.

A peace sign, a thumbs up,
a wave, or happy laughter;
bringing joy to others
is truly what I’m after,

chillin’ in the slow lane.

~gj duerrschmidt

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Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Prince of Nails: A Spoof of Genderous Proportions




The prince had his nails did,
royally chillaxin’ in a chair;
a manicure fit for a king,
(or, perhaps a queen, but
we’ll not venture there.)

Young damsels heave heavy
sighs at even the mere tho’t;
no, not of bedding his highness,
but of his radiant beauty,
so natural, not store bought.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
why are we none so fair as he?” 
'Cuz he’s the fairest of them all, 
oh foolish maids, and his 
Prince Charming you'll never be!  

~gj duerrschmidt


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