Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The Don't Walk Signal

The Don't Walk Signal”
(c)2011 Bob Atkinson

near the canals of Long Beach
where successful people lived
near houses painted freshly
with pleasure boats tied up to slips

walked two friends most briskly
more for exercise than travel
gentlemen it would seem to me
from their attitude and apparel

I watched them through the window
as my breakfast I slowly ate
sipping coffee in my favored cafe'
sitting next to my date

wondered how they'd made their fortune
to be living in such a nice place
smart and sure they both were
respect of others perhaps their game

as they sauntered to the corner
where traffic lights were lit
I saw the yellow caution light
give its “watch out” blink

the little man in the green suit
upon the post of brown
changed his stance to standing still
and his clothes went to red

two men of different cultures
came upon this scene
I watched as the world
was explained so clearly to me

now these two men I would say
would fit in anyplace
where honesty, integrity and pride
weren't out of date

though of different cultures
I saw them as normal men
who wouldn't make me nervous
if near them I would stand

as they approached the corner
where “don't walk” blinked on
I saw diverse two attitudes
which dropped my jaw in awe

one looked to see if it was safe
to cross this little street
his only thought was could he get away
with crossing against the “wait”

it didn't enter in his mind
why stopping would be required
just sauntered across the street because
no cars were by him sighted

the other, well, he saw the light
turn red, which meant to stop
all cars and pedestrians
from charging through full blast

his mind was set to be reflex
do the right thing in first order
not caring about his walking fast
or his schedule in that order

he stopped and looked at the man
of red light on the pole
seeming satisfied to wait
until the green one came home

then he looked at his friend
in the crosswalk on the street
already two paces ahead of him
there upon the street

he looked around for danger
no vehicles appeared
and began to walk, although the man of pole
said stop, as did the light above

I saw in a little while
what people use to drive
their actions fast within their lives
remnants of ancient past lives

some choose to look first
at what is only possible
and others choose to look directly
at the appropriate law

the law of nature, man or God
whichever it would seem
would guide his action reflexes
while walking on the street

the second man in seeing
his friend in front of him
timidly began to walk
although the light said stand

now, both men did the same
they walked when it was against the law
but each in his mind
looked first for different thoughts

one thought of what was possible
getting away with it his mind
while the other chose first to review
the relevant law of the land

Monday, July 25, 2011

The Sands of Arizona

"The Sands of Arizona”
(c)2011 Bob Atkinson

drifting grains upon the land
we travel with the wind
seeking fortunes for ourselves
and for our nearest kin

we try to live our lives so proud
in doing the proper thing
yet circumstances sometimes yields
to a battered honesty

for those who take to prison life
no, it isn't a display of pride
to show to others your lack of taste
while being locked inside

it means you haven't joined with all
to bring good to others' lives
and give your mothers a tearful smile
when she looks at your good insides

some are ever a mile wide
yet, only an inch deep
showing stupid without remorse
it means they never think

raises questions of their honesty
forced pride's all people see

don't keep your violence upon my times
don't ever force me to
do those things you want from fear
I'll never have respect for you

give more than you have gotten
help others with their pain
if you want to truly be
more than a useless sand grain

mean people inhale air in such vast quantities that they create a vacuum”

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Puffy Poetry by Bob Atkinson

"Puffy Poetry”

(c)2011 by Bob Atkinson

those who take the stuffy path
think they are correct in tracking
where their craft should follow
while taking a poison pill

in doing this they tend to kill
their love's broader appeal
the thing they worship has no form
but that which the mind creates

poetry remains words set to emotion
holding packs of ideas to translate wholly
across the void of disconnect briefly
giving us our “tender feelings”

written in that value for others
to dwell deeply and feel somewhat puzzled
with honors tight within its frame
no fancy words or players games needed

no thoughtless puffing or ego bending
without which honesty thrives
with subjects of a universal nature
where we all can relate to

the words of choice must remain sincere
no odd or kitschy meanings here
rhyme isn't ever necessary
but gives flavor to the ordinary

so to those who turn their noses up
to simple thoughts and flavored stuff
I say to them who beat those drums
you're killing that which you profess to love

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Coyote on the Tracks by Bob Atkinson

Coyote on the Tracks
(c)2006 Bob Atkinson
Eastbound they were steaming
led by one with no regrets
pockets full of Gaylord's money
for a record, not a bet

the Coyote on the Tracks
waves as he goes past
the people are excited
to see the train at last

time for quick action
changing power in a flash
the man talks of his accomplishments
and old predicaments

how much of this was true
nobody ever knowed
didn't seem to matter
waiting for his stories to unfold

power in his speech
and his downright love of Jack
led a person to believe
he'd be always coming back

a Coyote on the Tracks
makes the train run fast
as if it were being chased
by fiction, not fact

the Coyote on the Tracks
waves has he goes past
the people are excited
to see the train at last

a coyote on the tracks
makes his tales of gettin' fat
seem almost true
though you know
it ain't like that !!

a coyote from a rocky place
no tailor'd seen his back
crumpled in a cord-roy suit
neck tied with a red cravat 

if jawing was accomplishment
if imagination fact
if the blur of an eastbound train
was seen shootin' down the tracks

we might think old Eddie Scott
was the cause of all of that
while feasting on a chicken leg
as Chandler wrote for cash

now way down in Tucson
on the south side of the town
stands a relic of the days when steam
excited peoples' minds

lore of the railroadJimmy's Diner” it's now called
smoke still waifs from its chimney
as in the days of old