En haut d'Orléans
Par Mike Marcellino
En haut d'Orléans
Joan,
l'or en argent
fâchée
brille
de loin le chevalier.
Seulement 21.
Comment elle l'a fait ?
Seulement 21.
Les montagnes,
la droite
de Tuscaloosa
en avant
et derrière
un acier empile
un ouest
de Birmingham
de Gadsden,
les coupures,
de soleil d'Alabama
par,
essaie à,
sur la hausse,
les montagnes qu'un
Alabama
allumant de la
violette
de lilas arbres
verts apercevant,
les lits
de vieux blé bandes
de terre rouillées cultivent.
En haut d'Orléans
conduisant
le nord par
le sud profond
mission de rocher noire.
La princesse
une
orange
de cuivre
d'Alabama
fait une croisière pur,
le marron égale
des cheveux,
directement
comme une dentelle.
La princesse un Alabama de l'espace !
Pendant que
la cerise
fleurit formé comme
un arbre
de Chrysanthème
circulaire
à l'envers,
les vaches se
reposant sur l'herbe,
2 chevaux broutant
Pâle & Roan.
La prise échappée à Brownsville
Stationner,
est dirigé vers
le Terrain De Boules,
la scène de Franklin.
A caché dans
la Caverne de Mammouth
des
Armées de la Reine.
A laissé accumuler
le long
de 31 d'ouest
rapidement
forces de piste de cavaliers
s'est dirigé vers le
croisement
de Rivière d'Ohio
Les forces de cavaliers
s'élevant
contre
les Armées
de la Reine.
En haut d'Orléans, déposer 2009 par Mike Marcellino
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Up from Orleans, a poem
Up from Orleans
By Mike Marcellino
Up from Orleans
Joan
cross
silver
gold
from a
distance
shining knight
Only 21.
How did she do it?
Only 21.
Mountains,
right
of Tuscaloosa
ahead
and
behind
a
steel
stacks
a
Birmingham
west of
Gadsden,
Alabama.
Sun breaks
through,
tries
to,
on the
rise,
mountains
a
Alabama
lighting
lilacs
violet
spotting
evergreens,
beds of
old wheat
rusty
dirt
strips
farm
up from
Orleans
driving
north
through
deep
south
black rock mission.
Princess
of
Alabama
copper
orange
cruising,
pure,
brown
matching
hair,
straight
as a lace.
Princess
of
Alabama
out of
space!
While cherry
blossoms
shaped
like
a
round
Chrysanthemum
trees
upside
down,
cows
resting
on grass,
2 horses grazing
Pale
&
Roan.
Escaped
capture
at Brownsville Station,
headed
for Bowling
Green,
the Franklin
scene,
hid in
Mammouth
Cave
from
the Armies of the Queen.
Ran up
along
31 w
fast track.
Forces
of horsemen
headed
for the
Ohio
River
crossing.
Forces
of horsemen
rising
up
against
the Armies of the Queen.
Up from Orleans, copyright 2009 by Mike Marcellino
By Mike Marcellino
Up from Orleans
Joan
cross
silver
gold
from a
distance
shining knight
Only 21.
How did she do it?
Only 21.
Mountains,
right
of Tuscaloosa
ahead
and
behind
a
steel
stacks
a
Birmingham
west of
Gadsden,
Alabama.
Sun breaks
through,
tries
to,
on the
rise,
mountains
a
Alabama
lighting
lilacs
violet
spotting
evergreens,
beds of
old wheat
rusty
dirt
strips
farm
up from
Orleans
driving
north
through
deep
south
black rock mission.
Princess
of
Alabama
copper
orange
cruising,
pure,
brown
matching
hair,
straight
as a lace.
Princess
of
Alabama
out of
space!
While cherry
blossoms
shaped
like
a
round
Chrysanthemum
trees
upside
down,
cows
resting
on grass,
2 horses grazing
Pale
&
Roan.
Escaped
capture
at Brownsville Station,
headed
for Bowling
Green,
the Franklin
scene,
hid in
Mammouth
Cave
from
the Armies of the Queen.
Ran up
along
31 w
fast track.
Forces
of horsemen
headed
for the
Ohio
River
crossing.
Forces
of horsemen
rising
up
against
the Armies of the Queen.
Up from Orleans, copyright 2009 by Mike Marcellino
Friday, March 20, 2009
Tears again, a poem
Tears again
By Mike Marcellino
Tears again
makin up for lost time
you lose along the way
settle for
artificial ones.
Sometimes life
can be
paralyzing
like being
in or near
a crash,
unless
you’re landing
on the Hudson
off the Brooklyn coast.
We came
from nowhere
piloting a clipper ship
across
endless Alleghenys.
Are we there yet?
Yep.
Snow line lost
to late February rains,
unexpectedly
rollin down Interstate 80
bustin plenty
enroute to
Stacy
Rock
& Buckeroo
playin Texas
raw bar
lower east side,
cutest actors
seen
since Joni & Jim
in the backseat
of a Fairlane
Ford,
baby blue
white top.
Light weight,
skinny,
automatic thing
flattened out at 110.
Under 90
never caught,
no blind spot.
Artificial tears
never show.
Only the real ones grow.
Got hard scrambled
eggs an' pancakes,
biggest ones
ever seen.
Split the scene.
Across the eastern divide
Cleveland appeared -
the far horizon
in van’s mystic
sky.
Real tears,
Song of Banjo Riley
heading for the Gulf
of Mexico
from New York
City.
Song of Banjo Riley by Mike Marcellino Copyright 2009
By Mike Marcellino
Tears again
makin up for lost time
you lose along the way
settle for
artificial ones.
Sometimes life
can be
paralyzing
like being
in or near
a crash,
unless
you’re landing
on the Hudson
off the Brooklyn coast.
We came
from nowhere
piloting a clipper ship
across
endless Alleghenys.
Are we there yet?
Yep.
Snow line lost
to late February rains,
unexpectedly
rollin down Interstate 80
bustin plenty
enroute to
Stacy
Rock
& Buckeroo
playin Texas
raw bar
lower east side,
cutest actors
seen
since Joni & Jim
in the backseat
of a Fairlane
Ford,
baby blue
white top.
Light weight,
skinny,
automatic thing
flattened out at 110.
Under 90
never caught,
no blind spot.
Artificial tears
never show.
Only the real ones grow.
Got hard scrambled
eggs an' pancakes,
biggest ones
ever seen.
Split the scene.
Across the eastern divide
Cleveland appeared -
the far horizon
in van’s mystic
sky.
Real tears,
Song of Banjo Riley
heading for the Gulf
of Mexico
from New York
City.
Song of Banjo Riley by Mike Marcellino Copyright 2009
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