The Reluctant Exhibitionist

A Symbol

A symbol of America

Is running through red lights.

Getting rid of immigrants,

The NRA and rights,

Policemen at a trial

Wearing shirts that say,

“Free Dan White” - a murderer

Who shot a man who's gay.

1-21-14

Instinct

A chicken just hatched

Will flee for shelter

From the shadow or shape

Of a chicken hawk.

A cat that has never been
Out of the house

Approaches with caution,

Regards with care

A picture of a dog.

1-21-14

 

Reading Poems From 2010

I read my poems and I like them,

But the feeling doesn't stay.

The memory is all forgotten

When I put the book away.

Fresh, alive – the poems written

Many years before today.

There is nothing in my psyche

Now. I don't know what to say.

Verses without depth or meaning -

Meant for happiness, for play.

1-22-14

 

On Time

Once upon the cover

Years ago of Time,

Someone drew a cutaway

Of a human brain.

And pictured in the head

Were a gadgets, guns and toys,

Preachers, soldiers, TV sets,

Bumper stickers, cars,

Tattoos, games, computers,

And things I don't recall -

A cacophonous unconscious.

Jesus! This is me!

1-22-14

Children in America

Children in America

Have nothing but a prayer,

In a world of videos,

Only money there.

And the only music

Growing up they hear

Doesn't soothe the senses,

Only violence and fear.

Pugnacious to the full -

How to drown a cat -

Intelligence maligned -

What there is of that.

Infants in the streets -

Never had a past -

Every generation

Overthrows the last.

1-22-14

The Reluctant Exhibitionist

His buddies call him Rover.

Before we moved from Dover

For eight weeks the neighbors held us over.

And I said, “This had better be love.”

We fumbled and we panted

And took it all for granted,

But we left Judith Crist enchanted.

And I said, “This had better be love.”

His buddies to a guy were

Impressed when he and I were

Acclaimed in The National Enquirer.

And I said, “This had better be love.”

And thanks to his clinicians

With similar ambitions

We now reach eleven new positions.

And I said, “This had better be love.”

1970, NYC

Lyric (fragment)

If you think you could content a

Girl who's lovely in magenta,

You may sit and tell me.

If your fancy vaguely traces

Half remembered names and faces,

You may sit and tell me.

Such a pretty hand

So gentle and so fine.

It's so large that one of yours

Holds both of mine.

If you feel a faint affection

That must not escape detection,

Sit there and tell it to me.

Underneath a quilt

We will be safe and warm,

Snuggled like two children

Hiding from a storm.

1970, NYC

Lyric (fragment)

In the apse

A couple of chaps

Will sing us a rhapsody.

Perhaps they'll get a fee.

I assume

That she and the groom

Are able to spawn the kin,

So where do you fit in?

1970, NYC

 

Lyric (fragment)

The Countess came from Typangu.

I took her to The Purple Shoe,

A little nook she'd overlook

Because it's in no tourist book.

It's Percy's place. The boy's a whiz

But not the man his sister is.

And thereupon the Countess flew

Directly back to Typangu.

Sherridan not wisely loved,

But loved too well.

We saw Stravinsky's “Rite of Spring”,

A rather hectic night of spring,

A most alarming song of spring,

It should be called “The Wrong of Spring”.

The cellos swept. The trumpets soared.

But peacefully she slept and snored.

And when the whole ballet was done

I had to say the trumpets won.

Sherridan not wisely loved,

But loved too well.

1970, NYC

If you like my poems, I have books on Amazon, both paper and Kindle.  The paper are usually $10 or less.  The Kindles are usually $1.  To look at them, go to Amazon, click on Books on the drop down menu, and type Joseph Hart Poetry in the subject bar.