PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

TACOS IN THE RAIN

Más sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo

And heaven knows this devil's too damn young

You shattered through my shell [then] left me here inside a hell

Of some unholy mole swamp hot as the sun

But maybe tacos in the rain will help to put the fire out,

Cause life's still full of lessons left to learn

Yeah, break out the champagne; it's time for tacos in the rain,

I'll toast to you, then watch the world around me burn.

From the start [the] love you gave was a salsa to my soul

[But I] didn't know that there were reapers in the mix

And now you're gone, but there's still desire and in your stead, you left a fire
That a barrel of tequila couldn't fix

Maybe tacos in the rain will help to put the fire out,

I’m not ready to return to dust and ash
Right now hope is all I got (save for some tacos and a shot).

I'll toast to us and wonder why it couldn’t last.

I gave to you my heart; next thing I knew I saw you carve

a molcajete that my tears have since stained and glazed.

To say I’m feeling blue would be an understated truth

Cause “fajita you” is the best I do on darker days

Well even tacos in the rain, they couldn't save me from this pain

How to love again is a lesson time will help me learn

Damn soggy tacos in the rain; still, there ain't no use to complain

Maybe I'll try your sister's tortas out instead

Elvin and Leroy were baseball players
From the time they were six years old
And best friends since the early days
A million baseball stories to be told

Their entire lives had been consumed
By the game of baseball which they
Played together all through school
Then pro-Negro league as Blue Jays

Even in retirement baseball was key
Games at the ball park and on the t.v.
Indeed – it was a sad day when Elvin
Passed away from a cardio infraction

Poor Leroy was hurt and felt so alone
He had always had Elvin by his side
And now without – was totally thrown
Unable to handle that Elvin had died

Leroy missed Elvin so much that he
Kept talking to him – always his plea
“Please let me know how you’re doing
So I can quit all my silly brooding”

But nothing – no answer from Elvin
Until late one night – in the kitchen
Leroy was talking - asking his friend
For a message – some sign to be sent

Leroy was sitting at the table and
Heard Elvin so asked – “that you man”
Without hesitation the voice of Elvin
Clear as day – “It’s me – good friend”

Leroy was both shocked and ecstatic
He started talking and then did ask
About baseball in heaven – and Elvin
Said – “Leroy – it really is heaven”

“They got baseball everywhere and
You should see the fields and parks
Just like we used to dream and plan
And got beautiful lights after dark”

“That is wonderful news” – said Leroy
“Wonderful – is there any bad news”
Elvin began tentatively – “well old boy
There is some bad news I brought you”

“What bad news - Elvin ” – Leroy asked
“Tell me – whatever - be what it might “
So Leroy started slow then said it fast
“Elvin - you’re pitchin’ tomorrow night”

When I'm in New Orleans, I find it’s generally desirable to get a hotel room near Canal ST or St. Charles ST.  These are well located and it is easy to walk over to a streetcar stop.  These are two main thoroughfares and will connect with  with most of the city.

The old trolleys are painfully slow and generally not air conditioned but it's still nice from the historical perspective.  And when you’re in New Orleans, you will be expected to remember to call it a streetcar.  In most other cities, you would be catching a trolley.  In Los Angeles or Memphis or Philadelphia, you are simply jumping on the trolley and it gets you to your location.

In New Orleans, you ride a streetcar not a trolley. The locals will take offense if you call it a trolley.  You’ll be adamantly corrected and then shunned as a foolish tourist.  They won’t even accept the notion that the two words are synonyms.

It may seem strange to an outsider but I guess it does make some sense.  Imagine if Tennessee Williams wrote a play called “A Trolley Called Desire.”  His editor would have been like, “Get the fuck out of here!  You can’t expect anyone to show up for a play or a movie called “ A Trolley Called Desire.”  Marlon Brando might have ended up with a completely different career trajectory.  

Leaves of grass, my ass!

 but this is no slam on Whitman

nor a drunken ode to Homer

nor any pretense at literature

nor a meager nod to pop culture

in an animated wonderland.

Leaves of grass, my ass!

because I sang the body electric

though the learned astronomer

coolly advised otherwise

and betrayed the beauty of the stars.

Leaves of grass, my ass!

A year of meteors long promised

yet still remain undelivered

I watch my captain cold & dead

and we swore upon children of Adam;

we cursed the setting sun.

Leaves of grass, my ass!

Although I dreamed in a dream

the skewering of fallen angels

and the resurrection of saints;

the cartoonish folly elicited.

Leaves of grass, my ass!

O eternal love restore me;

lead me down the path of enlightenment

eternal truth is all we seek\

be it in leaves of grass, swinging pendulums

or other images broadcast thru our mind’s eye.

I noticed that I'm different,  then I was before

I no longer look to see, if it's you, coming through the door! 

I realized that I don't check my phone, hoping that you called. 

I don't even check my text,  to see if you texted at all. 

I'm sorry to have to tell you this,  but I thought you should know. 

When a person isn't there, our feelings start to go. 

maybe that's why  your avoiding me, to clear me from your mind...

but if you look deep inside,  your heart, it's me you'll find.

as for me,  I must say,  it hurts more then I thought

when nothings said,  no-reason why, not one explaintion have I got! 

So I live my life each day,  without you ever here. 

the rose colored glasses that I  wear,  are becoming  really clear. 

Now I realize that Im slowly, getting over you

It feels strange not having you here, but that's just what you do. 

I have no Tears to cry,  they dryed long ago

I have no words to beg...  I'll simply let you go!  

I'll never understand, what was so hard to do? 

I found it very easy, to love only you. 

but we made our choices,  or they were made for us.

now we must live with them, and move on as we must!  

So I'll simply say I'm sorry,  for not being the one you need. 

I could have been,  if you'd have let me in, instead you made me bleed.

So this is me without you,  cold and does not care... 

I'm at the point of not giving a shit,  if your ever there. 

So this is how it feels... getting over you? 

I have less stress,  I spend much less,  and I can find somebody new...!!!

Paul (ChryWizard)  Posney ©02/15/2018

May everyone feel the love in the air, the romance in your heart and the pleasure of spending the day with someone you love... (Or hope to...)

********************************

Valentines Day on a budget

--------------------------------------------

Happy Valentine day ladies, you're all such a wonderful treat, 

Like a piece of candy...  Damn you sure are sweet.

Have Cupid Shoot an arrow,  in my heart real deep

So I'll have dreams of you,  at night when I sleep. 

Hearts and Rose's  and chocolate Candy too...

These are the things, I'd love, to give you.

But since today I'm broke..., all that I can say...

Is "Will you still be my Valentine?" on this Valentine's Day?"

©Paul (ChryWizard) Posney 2-14-2013 

With no particular place to go

By jfarrell

(inspired by a chuck berry classic)

Riding along in my automobile;

Karla, my dragon, beside me at the wheel;

A bump, a burp; she blew up my car;

I hope we’re not walking far;

Grumbling and playing my radio,

With no particular place to go.

Walking along without a car;

My anger’s running far;

Karla grabs me, makes me dance;

I wanna kill her, want that chance;

Scowling “Let me go!”

With no particular place to go.

No particular place to go….

We’re walking home in the cold;

The moon was bright and low

And Karla looked bathed in gold;

Can you imagine how I felt?

Bright and red like a welt.

Walking along, about to blow a fuse;

My invisible dragon, she’s not much use;

Arsonist baby girl

Giggling as she burns the world;

Cuddling and playing my radio;

With no particular place to go.

I'm Popeye the Sailor, I'm sure not Popeye Doyle.

Things went down hill when I married Olive Oyl.

Bluto showed up at the wedding and started a fight.

As usual, I ate my spinach and punched out his lights.

But I hit him too hard and I broke his spine.

I was arrested and now I'm doing hard time.

Olive was supposed to love me forever by honoring her wedding vows.

But she annulled our marriage because conjugal visits aren't allowed.

When I ate my spinach, I always kicked Bluto's butt, I could not lose.

But you'd better stay away from spinach to avoid ending up in my shoes.

My new Russian bride can only speak one english word and that word is no.

If she doesn't start behaving like a wife, she will have to go.

When I paid her way to America, I didn't know things would go sour.

We've been married for six weeks and I'm sick of taking cold showers.

When she arrived, I was thrilled to see the plane land.

But now I'm having to get some relief by using my hand.

Married people are supposed to make love, her behavior is absurd.

I'd really like to kill the idiot who taught her that one english word.

Sexual relations is the only thing that my marriage is lacking.

If she doesn't learn how to say 'yes', I will send her packing.

I'm sure you can understand my frustration and distress.

If you marry a Russian, you'd better hope she can say yes.