Raining Pirates!

Raining tigers and their cages, raining candy, raining clown

Raining tickets for the circus, raining joy that could abound

Raining rooks and raining chess boards, raining blocks and raining books

Raining India, and Yoga, raining fish and raining hooks

Raining horses never ridden, raining clouds that just gave up

Raining stars once shy and winsome, raining rivers gone a muck

Raining thoughts of bleary bishops, raining red shoes for the poor

Raining buildings none too balanced, raining all of that and more

Raining movies, raining moguls, raining me and raining you

Raining Bogart, raining Bergman, raining Catholic, raining Jew

Raining Muslim, raining pilgrim, raining Isreal and Pope

Raining walls that weep and planes too weak and reindeer without hope

Raining Christmas, raining Birthdays, raining door mats, raining tears

Raining parents from beyond their graves and children left with fears

Raining loneliness and Jesus, raining poverty and sin

Raining roses straight from Mary, raining barflies, raining gin

Raining yesterdays and captains, raining ships and raining oars

Raining pirates, raining sorrow, raining sand and raining sm’ores

Raining comfort, raining pepper, raining salt and forks and spoons

Raining Panama and Cuba, raining zebras and baboons

Raining pencils, raining paper, raining all first days of school

Raining homework, raining teachers, raining principals and rules

Raining freckles, raining comics, raining silk and raining lace

Raining crickets, raining strollers, raining the whole human race…

Unplanned Poethood

I’ve never had the patient-try for poetry

I only love a free verse when it rhymes

Like irons on a chain-gang by the roadside

There’s no sense being clever doing time

To be or not to be is just one question

I see that where I am is where there’s light

All worlds they wind like heat around a candle-

A wick is rather useless least it’s night

As poems have no use for dungy dungeons

They come from far and near to blaze a trail

In bishop breast — in pirate nest — they simmer

Their boiling point does come with much travail

A song of twenty blackbirds singing gospel…

A Profrock with his thoughts upon a peach…

A prince of Denmark cooing at a clown skull…

The muse of art as vision does beseech…

©

agw