Zachary Taylor State Park, Key West: Ilse of Man (Reflections of an Aging Poet)

 

The tide is low,

sea bed is rocky;

feeling youthful,

and somewhat cocky.

The rock slab isle

beckons to this soul.

I swim out slow

to lessen the toll.

Catching my breath,

I bask in the sun;

surrounded now

by boys having fun.

Thoughts drift back to

Baiting Hollow Beach:

days of my youth,

now so far from reach.

Bleached blond hair,

body chiseled and tan,

fantasizing

becoming a man;

Sketching seascapes,

or writing a poem;

just enjoying life

before leaving home.

No going back.

God, those were the days:

innocence lost

in a purple haze.

So  boys,

Enjoy your fun!

If you only knew,

what manhood brings;

what aging will do.

~gj dürrschmidt

Hooked on Facebook

You have an addiction

if you can’t go one 

day without:

selfie pics and covers,

political comments

here and there;

words of inspiration,

words of despair;

videos of stupid people

doing unbelievably

stupid things:

dogs driving cars,

cats that can sing;

personal promiscuity:

if not pornographic,

then real lewd;

pics of Throw back Thursdays,

pics of others' food;

that Inbox, Notifications,

Friend Requests

red shield high:

if none there at sign on,

then you want to die;

your pseudo social network,

personal confessions

gossip rag;

that recreational narcotic;

that Facebook nickel bag.

~gj dürrschmidt

Writer's Bitch

 It’s hard to
write
when I cannot
think.

It’s hard to
think
when I cannot
sleep.

It’s hard to
sleep
in a world gone
mad.

~gj dürrschmidt

Oh Beautiful, Bodacious Skies (or Redneck 4th of July)

Burly

bad ass

buds in

beater T’s;

with

big arms

and

bigger trucks,

bangin’ down

brewskies,

belchin'

burnt

burgers ‘n

barbeque sauce;

braggin' of 
baggin'

bleach

blonde

bimbos with

big

boobs ‘n

bubble

butts; 

brainlessly
bullshittin'

beneath the

bright,

burnin' sun;

workin' on keepin’

their necks

RED,

 

their country

WHITE,

and

their truck nuts

BLUE.

Happy birthday, A‘merca!

~gj dürrschmidt