Tuesday, May 18, 2010

2 poems

by horace p sternwall

pictures by rhoda penmarq

the ice cream man

a million jobs and it's just my luck
mine was not to drive an ice cream truck
but to sit all day behind a desk
dealing with the mad and the grotesque

but o how much more satisfying
in the soft twilight as day is dying
to bring smiles to children and take their pennies
joy in their lives they hardly had any

until they hear the longed for bell
announcing that now - now all is well
as they stuff their metabolisms with slush
over the world there falls a hush

o wise men in your chambers and courts
with your investigations and reports
will you deny the occasional spark
that lights this universe so dark?

i'll never tell

many strange dreams i tried to weave
into what i really believe
but something always broke the spell
so now - i'll never tell


Dan Leo said...

Brilliant, as usual.

human being said...

ah... and those innocent sparks are what keeping this world still alive...

the spell is broken so that you weave more dreams...
without dreams there is no ice-cream

without them, vertical lines of tall buildings would invade the calm horizon...

Peter Greene said...