Illustrated poems by John Di Girolamo
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Flighty
Buoying up what should only be anchored on a seabed,launching horizon thoughts from a beachy head,polishing off planks running red in gallons on bloody Mary galleons,mutinying off bilious dream decks into wavy waters off Albion;a pirate seagull takes a selfie from a cliff ledge. Out-of-breath knee-rug centenarians in their Sunday bestblowing out as many candles …
Silent Monsters
I hold back more words a daythan I ever say.Spout off more than my fair shareto people who don’t know me or carejust to entertain. I go back home, open the doorand close it behind me once more.Go to my park bench with its personalized plaquein my sitting room and sit backand watch the day’s …
Star
And the people clapped.And the people applauded.And the people cheered.And the people lauded. And the people kissed.And the people flocked.And the people laughed.And the people rocked. And the people cried.And the people called.And the people chanted.And the people bawled. And the people mourned.And the people stopped.And the people thought.And the people dropped.
While it lasted
This poem comes from Side 1/Side 2 collection. Video done some time ago – One take with the cat on the balcony!
The Juggler’s Arms
In The Juggler’s Armsthe circus family catch up with their latest acts.The tight-rope walkers walk a thin linewith their boyfriend/girlfriend acrobats. A Sunday roaston a seaside coastthe big-top landlord likes to trumpet and boast‘bout his horn-blowing seal. In The Juggler’s Armstipsy knife-throwers stain their costumes with their thrills’n’spillsas Houdini descendants, disappearing weeklyget out of paying …
Just ‘cos
Just ‘cos you’re to blame doesn’t mean you’re guilty.Just ‘cos it’s not your fault doesn’t mean you’re innocent.Just ‘cos you’ve got money doesn’t mean you’re worth a penny.Just ‘cos they said it well doesn’t mean they said what they meant. Just ‘cos you’ve got time doesn’t mean it won’t run out.Just ‘cos the fun’s over …
Psychedelicacity
The city wakes upAs cleaners brush their teeth with mops.Yawning tea-spoon people stir a coffee cup.As big hands and little hands turn off alarm clocks. Hairdresser’s open for clients to wait…Their turn to grow their hair.Buses on time arrive lateAs bus conductors pay their passengers’ fare. Fashion designers doodle on sheepskin fleeceAs copywriters’ kids trace …
How Very Soon
As the kitchen staff go on the warpathWith the head chef leading the culinary chargeOn the waiters and waitresses, under-staffed,Drawing their cutlery for a tomato blood-bath The summer season’s over again. All the deck chair’s now have been folded upAnd the little old ladies with their lovely cupHave had their biscuit and their seaside napBack …
A Pretty Kettle of Poetry 