Category Archives: Free Verse

One Night I Sang

I sat – tables in a row –
Chairs swallowing them each –
and every one – like satellite moons
half back high and swizzle sticks
shooting from their centers –
little crystal stars filled with –
slow melting ice and two fingered gins…
and her eyes shoot through  –
through the mist –
through the smoke –
through the lust and sweat and
beer stained carpet – and all the musical
notes swirling ’round the stage
don’t stop her eyes –
can’t stop her eyes –
eyes that feel me –
feel my inner nakedness –
my tiny little being in her majestic universe –
of smoke and beer and gin…
And  I sit among the swizzles –
my little stirring friends and I –
wishing I were her guitar –
and that she would rock me –
gently strum me into such –
a beautiful song as this…..
Oh how wondrous was –
the night I sang her song!

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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A Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Through the wizardry of this internet, WordPress, and so many poetry sites abound I have discovered an absolute gem – hidden away in south Africa – cowering inside of her own ‘tiny pond’ shadow – dreaming and admiring the stars but reclusively running away from them – running for shelter – fearing her love might cause those same stars to fall from the sky….  and fearing that her addition to this world would never match the brilliance or glory of the world itself.  And she feels that if it ever could than she might destroy it with her humanness.
She is my Emily Dickinson Replacement….  My cause de’ jeur…  My chance to bring the light and love of her talent to her mind.. She is my lovely flower and I have banged incessantly on her door – relentlessly – to let her believe that the brilliance of this world is because of her and her kind – and not in spite of her.  She is such a marvelous poetic talent – and completely undervalued as Emily was.  She has thousands of dusty poems unread, unglorified, unsung…  And she wrote this poem below, Eternal Kiss, for me,  simply because I saw her tiny sparkle in her tiny pond….  I love her, and I think you will to.  Her pen-name is Margaret Alice Second…

Eternal Kiss
by Margaret Alice Second
http://www.poemhunter.com/margaret-alice-second/biography/

Nutcracker – Dancing Fairies, an eternal kiss
on my lips, Lothario or Robin Hood, frozen in
front of the messed-up-font & capital letters
converted by a machine confused like me, it
would dream forever if it had been kissed also

Maybe it was, it’s even more lost than I am &
this glory of dreams and visions changes the
fabric of reality, sleeping for a 100 years now
I can’t wake up any more, at least not yet, do
I want to wake up, a moot point – it’s going to

Happen in THIS reality but in parallel eternity
a kiss will endure for centuries yet as fast as
batting an eyelid, if you don’t look you’ll miss
it; exploding vertically to create an eternal fire-
works display, if we do not join the angels we

Shall never get to see it from outside – but I’m
going to feel AND taste colour – see melodies
and experience new being because I know of
the infinite possibility to create new dimension
as we go along, finding fishes with lanterns &

Strange deep-sea creatures, the fairies under
Puck who visited, left already – to return later
if I give them enough time and space to play

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© 2015 Margaret Alice Second
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The Measure of Margaret Alice

There within the words –
those soothing little words –
chirping all about –
flittering here and there –
finding me – my longing soul –
awash in their symphony –
gasping at their touch –
softly caressing my every drop.
And to wit – that such words fallen before –
in years gone by for mere dreams to recapture,
but often forgotten –
gone to receding waves or silent moon –
Moon so stoic and grey and pitted –
mocking us with all of those before us –
who once stood and watched her as we do now –
marveled her brilliance amongst
……….. the sparkling stars –
shining down upon such great love as
Cleopatra and Marc Antony –
or Ulysses and Penelope….
Gone now – to grave and dust –
brings sadness that such emotions
thrived within beating hearts…
As ours beat now.
But gone in the coldness of death.

Your love is no less precious a thing –
dear lover,
no less breath taking –
no less earth shaking…
no less heart staking…
than what it takes to make me live forever.
For if death promises to take you away from me –
Then I should pray, and hope, and desire only –
…… to live eternally by your side –
defying even God’s will for your endless love…
That is the measure of sweet Margaret Alice…


Goose Prose And Morning Glory

Morning Fog resting gently on the green…
bouncing softly up and down
spitter spatter swiss cheese holes –
Some are clear – can see all the way
some are white – blocking God’s creation –
like an unfinished puzzle.
Above I hear my friends say goodbye…
I stretch my neck and squint through the mist –
See the geese flapping their wings so hard…
Like southward grey ghosts – reminiscent.
“On we go, Mr. John…  On we go!”
“Join us if you can…..”

A moment passes, and a straggler is heard…
“Honk honk honk honk honk!”
Loudly barking pleas for the others to slow down.
This will not be a good year my friends…


If I Were Lizzie Borden’s Neighbor

If I were Lizzie Borden’s neighbor…
I think it would  have been hard.
So I surely would have courted her..
Possibly even scored with her…
but never never tortured her…
Because she would have chopped me into little pieces..

And it would have rested upon the why’s and when’s –
(that I should have been her neighbor -)
for if I had encountered the bloody den –
axe in the fire while Lizzie says “More!”…
Then it might have been like a one night stand thing..

But before the grisly act –
which Liz so merrily savored –
I would have made her a porn star…
and a whole lot of money –
being Lizzie Borden’s neighbor…

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Tinker

Dear Tinker, Tinker, Tinkerbelle,
Can’t you come and sit a spell?
To spin a yarn and fairy tale,
where imaginations dare to dwell,
of mountaintops and old thimbles?
Oh, dear Tinker, do tell…..

Lite upon this soft maple leaf –
steal my mind like a tiny thief –
run away through the doors
or the gates of Heaven’s moors….
show me colors so worldly wise –
and clouds so soft within the skies…
Fly dear Tinker, through the stars
leaving such trails of glitter.

But won’t you please, this awful day,
take sister’s hand for one last play?
Show her love and gladfulness,
release her awkward bashfulness –
tell her of our happiness –
that she shall soar away.

And watch over her, dear tinker,
until such day should come,
that brother and I may join her,
in God’s wonderland……

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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It’s All Your Fault 2

This is a remake of one of my latest songs.  Was playing around it Muvizu, a cartoon creation software….  Had massive problems inside the learning curve, but managed to finally create this with my sound track added to Timmy’s lip sync…  He’s a lot cuter than I am and I thought he would be a little less distractive to viewers than my beastly self….

Anyway, here’s a tip:  Cell phone and laptop speakers are notoriously horrible.  Use earbuds.  Not that it will help my cat scratching blackboard noises, but for other real artists it might help….

Is this worth my time?

Lyrics:

I like the way you look tonight
Dressed up baby, so nice and tight…
And got me thinking when was
the first time I saw you in
that moonlight….

You know I was like Frankenstein baby
just bouncing off those walls
I needed that lightning
to start my heart
And that’s what you did
You started my heart
So it’s all your fault

And now I’m just left here wondering
why you’re dressed up so fine tonight
You’re stepping out with that other guy
Tell me what happened Darling
‘Cause my heart’s still going, yeah
Yes it is
It’s all your fault.

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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I Remember You

Press the Play Button to hear the song – may not work on phone

Saw her walking on the beach, looking mighty fine
Sipping on a soda down at the five and dime
Took her to a movie, honey, it was show time
Sat in the back, baby, gon’ make you mine…

I remember you, girl, I remember you
Big blue eyes and that beautiful smile
Bob Seeger playin’ on the radio
wish I could go back for a while

Summer days back in my early days
having fun with nothing but the sun
colors were bright and your eyes begun
to make me feel, baby, to make me feel

Sittin outside the Dog ‘n Suds
puttin’ pennies on the track
Walking through the old graveyard
in the late night pitch black

I didn’t know what love was back then
I didn’t see the way you looked at me
Now I look back and understand –
The summer love we had…

I remember you, girl, I remember you
Big blue eyes and that beautiful smile
Bob Seeger playin’ on the radio
wish I could go back for a while

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Little Bubbles

Of one thing I’m certain –
and feel most assured –
That life comes in little bubbles –
that come and meander go…..

Some are colored brightly –
in sunshine rainbow flow –
others visit nightly –
for dreams and frightful show.

Some have no luster –
and are sure to simply pop…
others come in clusters –
with bouncy little hops.

But of all the little bubbles
that I have ever known –
or all the little bubbles
that I’ve ever seen or grown –
I think none could stand the troubles
of your God-awful moaning groan…

The tongue is your instrument –
its point quite sharp and stabbing –
and those finding your detriment –
will someday rejoice your slabbing –

For as you burst our bubbles
with little or no care –
your punishment surely doubles –
the Creator sternly stares…
and you’ll stand amidst the rubble
of our popped bubbles everywhere –

and then wonder why you’re being picked on.

I will still hold your hand…
Do you understand?

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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I Ate the Last Banana

Tasty little things they are,
browning softly in the kitchen sun –
Bringing back memories of such fun…

Mother’s 1960s kitchen sparkles –
waxed floors – hands and knees –
Polished counters if you please…

Chrome coffee pot percolatin’….
Her Aussie teapot whistle-atin’….
The smells, like Pine-Sol and Mr. Clean.

A lovely visit from Miss Jane,
Her crackly voice filled the air –
her smile beaming everywhere…

Here lil’ Johnny, a slice of bread –
covered in butter, sugar, and banana…
It’s such a lovely day, go out and play…

So many pirates came with me…
in those sugar high days…
Chasing the seas of my imagination…

Charlie come to kill me –
in his sneaky little ways –
shooting bullets, throwing grenades…

Climb upon Apollo 11 –
Countdown to coma –
Neil flashing a thumbs-up!

And blast-OFF!

The trip to the store last week –
bent my knees, made me weak.
But sure to get the right amount of bananas.
Too many, you know, they rot.
Not enough and you’ve got –
…….chaos

As I stood choosing my stalk carefully –
some strange woman glared at me – stare-fully…
As though I was sent to earth to annoy her.

Prissy little bitch.
I’ll bet her mother never even gave her –
bread with butter, sugar, and bananas…

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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