My US NPM poems

[Frank E Gibbard]

For 1st April untitled)

 

I am a lonely daffodil

standing high on a hill;

wish I were high, I will

tell you I really, really

do, or like you humans

could take a pill, how to

cope I've no Earthly clue.

I'm fairly secure and well

rooted but am inclined to

bend as I droop with each

day. I fear my time could

end before its true prime.

I try my level best to be

a brave upstanding sort

of fellow but cannot help,

it it's in my nature to be

this way, so openly yellow.

 

 

 

Confession April 2

 

It was I who killed J. F. K. I

shot him down from on high,

I too who ended Mr A. Lincoln

and it's not some braggart's lie;

mine was the muzzled velocity

which made deadly bullets fly.

 

In these acts of assassination

I starred in every one, played

my part in each climatic scene,

I'm an efficient killing machine;

saw off M. Gandhi, M. L. King

and J. Lennon, all fell to me in

the reckoning. Here's is my J.

Hancock on my calling card I'm

always at your service .. A. Gun.

 

 

To Be Counted April 3

 

All the words I said no more in my head

into immediate erasing time are scattered

depleted without even a keystroke, deleted;

they come in moments then swiftly are gone

like all words ever said as if they never, nor

have they mattered. For all words we give up

to really be counted they must be written down.