Bad Boy Google

Bully of the playground
Terror of the tank
To them it is no fun at all
to him it is a prank

You'd think he was playing
of that there is no doubt

Pushing round the other fish
the sharers of his space
driving them here and there
in an endless race

August 20, 2005 11:12

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

May Pole

They made of me a May Pole
Last night in the narthex, the entry
Of our church,
Free of chairs and clutter
For late summer cleaning

Skipping, laughing, reeling,
They danced around me
While fitfully sharing
The apple Ruth brought me for my dinner
All that was missing
Was the ribbon wrapped round me
Ever tighter as the dancers danced


August 19, 2005 14:59


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Ancient Flyer

Oh they got the name right when they named these
Ancient flyers of the sun
tail like an alligator's flesh
skeletal cellophane wings
multi-celled eyes that a sci-fi writer could only dream

Hands on my hand
grabbing with barb and weightless grace
ready for the closeup, the glossy
made for publicity

well here it is...




8/18/05 21:15 (photo by Ruth Foss, cropped by Ray)


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,640+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Cards

A cluster of assorted bicycles
Strewn in a yard yesterday afternoon
Trigger of a memory, a moment
A time in my life with simpler concerns

Summer bike parades, races
With streamers out the handles
Specially chosen baseball cards
Clothespinned to the spokes
Of the one-speed bikes
We all had

Noisier, happier August days
Flap, clatter, laugh, shouts
Frozen in brain cells now
To be unearthed
When serendipity strikes,
Breaking a knowing smile ‘cross my face
As I drive home

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

edited March 7, 2018

Cards – v2

August 18, 2005 12:30

Cards

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2005/08/cards.html  

All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2018. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com)  for usage. See all 46,450 of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

creator, cross, earth, faith poetry, God, hands, home, life, memories, New Hampshire, poem, poetry, Poetry Where You Live, Raymond A. Foss, summer, yard, baseball cards,

#creator #cross #earth #faithpoetry #God #hands #home #life #memories #NewHampshire #poem #poetry #summer #yard #baseball cards #baseballcards #bicycles

Seductive Invader

She was beautiful
elegant, sly, alluring
In her rich color
long supple body
full flowering
envy of others
less able
to spread

August 17, 2005 19:27 – about Purple Loosestrife, invading all of New England’s wet places


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Weathered

Weathered and worn
But oh so proudly
The old barn preened in the summer
Mid-day sun

He had seen her earlier,
Noticed her shape, angles
On the drive to his desk and cube

But now she shown
The aged wood, elephant skin
Or maybe the skin of a Burmese elder
Lit at the edge of the cut field

Tawny, creosote, browns in varied hues
Tingled his fancy, his synapses
Starkness of the vertical and horizontal lines
Breaking the field and forests
Softer edges

Ready for a picture or two
To catch the eye, the imagination
Of the traveler of the byway
Proud in its skin
In the light

August 17, 2005 16:02

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Sand Castles

Molded and shaped
Specks of the rocks they once were
Packed and organized in the buckets
Like the seconds of our lives
Held together,
The stories of us

On the beach, in the sun
Working with the girls to create
A mighty fortress, regal and expansive
A myth
Thanks to Shanequa’s
Errant bucketful of destruction

Giggle and shriek
Splash, spill, dribble
Squander, linger
In the mote we created

Breached walls
A mirage of strength
Our handiwork flowing
Back to the water


August 17, 2005 9:03


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Sooner

The passing of every minute of the workday
brings me ever closer to you once more.
I long for the ending of the day,
for the passing of the hours, the minutes,
ever faster

for the meeting of our lips, our hearts,
our lives once more
at the end of the day,
the passing of the time

between now and then...


August 16, 2005 13:35


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Berries

Like a thick cluster of ripe Concord grapes
The blueberries hung on the bush
Eager for my grasp, their liberation from the stalk
Drop, the fall into the can,
Hung like a horse’s feed bag around my neck

Sticky lush flesh clutched, grasped
Gingerly between my fingers
Don’t want to lose one

Smell the warm August air ‘round me
Drink the quiet of the farm
Forget time, other urgencies of life

Hunt for each bit of fruit
Hidden by branch and leaf
Treasures to be savored later

Monarch and dragonfly join my reverie
Break the stillness of the haze
Eager for the sweet harvest too


August 16, 2005 13:29


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

To Tag

To tag, or not to tag: that is the problem:
Whether 'tis nobler in the whole to endure
The slings and arrows of disgruntled faculty,
Or to take steps against a claim of ownership,
And by refuting quell them? To dispose: to surplus;
No more; and by a disposal to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That equipment is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To dispose, to surplus;
To surplus: perchance to profit: ay, there's the rub;
For in that disposal process of purchase what revenue may come
When we have left Property Control,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of longevity;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The department's wrong, the faculty's contumely,
The pangs of despised control, the law's delay,
The insolence of staff and the spurns
That patient merit of the campus takes,
When they themselves might his quietus make
With a rusty key? who would workstudys bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after tagging,
The academic buildings from whose bourn
No tagging student returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than complain to management that we know not of?
Thus the inventory does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
Be all my property remember'd.


August 15, 2005 16:00 (with a whole lot of apologies to William Shakespeare… This is no Hamlet…)


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Thinking Cog

Why she asked
Innocent, or was it?
Cringe of every curmudgeon
Fear of every manager

Like Charlie in Modern Times
Wanting to know, to deduce, to grasp
Her role, the steps to complete

Consternation of Ford and Deming
Wondering, asking why
To find the rhyme, the season
Or was it the reason
The raison d'être
For the task,
Or at least to show up for work


8/15/2005 13:45


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

The Narrow Gate

Free will isn’t free
We don’t see

That the way is clear
To get from here

The way is straight
Through the narrow gate
Defining our fate
Ours to contemplate

We must choose to go
Where He told us so

Heaven waits for us
If we but follow Jesus


August 15, 2005 13:31

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,870+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

In the Bramble

In the bramble at the edge of the lawn
Before the woods,
Where pillows of snow perched in winter

Green upon green played
Meshed and netted together
Blocking all view
Of the trees behind

The wooded lot
A distant land
Behind the bramble,
The vines and wild living thatch
At the edge of the tamed place
We claim whilst we tend it.


8/15/05 12:22

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,720+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Evolution

A mat of green, burgundy, and brown
Covered the skin of the once open water
Of the marsh, cut off by the black thread
The highway I travel so often

Lily pads, bent edges exposed by the bloom
The burst of their growth
Between the rushes and ribbon of water
Down from the woods

How recently it was different
Ducks paddling where the blanket is now
Untrammeled by foreign plants,
Runoff of fertilizers of the farms around

Choked water of brown not blue
Murk and smell
Off the road that sealed its doom
Away from the fresh lake
On the other side forevermore

Soon it will be colored by fall hues
Fragile weakened trees shedding leaves earlier
Sooner than nearby in heartier soils

Truly it can be said,
Mournful are the harbingers,
The prodigy
Of development


August 15, 2005 11:46

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 37,080+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

The Final Word

Oh it will be wonderful
At the end of the age
For those who believe
To see that heavenly place

The next to the last word is judgment
But the last word is grace

The faith that saved us,
Not our doing
But His own
A gift from Calvary
And the way

When we are collected
The wheat from the weeds
The good fruit
Cared for by the gardener
All along.


8/15/05 11:25. A poem inspired by the sermon, "The Last Word", preached by the Rev. Joel B. Guillemette from Romans 11:1-2a, 29-36 on the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, August 14, 2005, at Wesley United Methodist Church in Concord, NH.

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 30,120+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.