World Cup Soccer (An American View)

So slow, I watch the grass grow
So quick, I miss a corner-kick.

Head skill; breaks the score Nil.
Drama Queens, by hits unseen.

Off-side play, that’s so Gay.
Unpronounceable names, on jerseys claim.

Cards of yellow, players bellow.
Cards of red, players dread.

Jabulani is in flight; Goalie fright.
Is ball in net? Is there a score yet?

Team USA seen; wait till 2014.
Can it be? Soccer played from, ‘sea-to –shining-sea’?

The French blew it; in an adieu fit.
The Italians, wow; beat a hasty ciao.

Our English friends; lost their Beckham bends.
The Germans scored like-mad; then met their Durbangrad.

Team Mexico; pronto adios.
South American teams, maybe? Hasta la vista baby!

Two Koreas came; oh, to see That game.
Nippon hot as fire, alas, sayonara.

An African venue; with teams that are new.
See, Nigeria, Ghana; hear Vuvuzela.

South Africa is a winner, in South hemisphere winter.
Apartheid, no; plays a historical side-show.

Republica Espana, soccer’s Top-Banana.
Holland, as such; were in Dutch.

The tourney ends; foes leave as friends.
Back in four; USA to roar!

The Woods Campground Memorial Grove (an Epitaph in a Poem)

A boulder lies beside the pathway.
The path open, beckons me,
To
enter-
Melancholy surrounds: gay lightness surrenders.
Quiet, and alone, I ponder the names,
on
wooden
crosses-
I commune with the dead;
no ceremony, just the familiarity of
those
names-
I come to reconcile my own life,
with
Death.


(The Woods Campground/Lehighton PA 7/4/10)

Mother's Day

I remember momma: she does not remember me.
She smiles at me, as I bring her coffee.

“Are you my husband?”
“You look like him.”
“No, you can’t be, he’s dead.”

Can’t say Ma anymore, it just upsets her.
That she forgot who I am.

Seconds later, back into her world.
Her mind a time-capsule,
as she remembers Elizabeth Street, 1936.

She is in that Purgatory,
between the reality of physical being
and the un-reality of her surroundings.

Wait, maybe this is the Paradise we seek.
Turning away from the world and its turmoil,
where nursing home angels attend to your needs,
where your peers float by on rubber legs,
where time has no meaning, and does not matter.

Where time has no meaning, and does not matter.

So, I visit, stay awhile, chit-chat.
Is all OK?
Then I leave.
DNR.


Puma/MMX

R U Gay?

I. If by that u mean:

I am a faggot, a homo, a queer, or a queen/
pederast, or pedophile/
transsexual, troll, transvestite, or a troglodyte/
a misogynist, social outcast, defrocked priest/
gay caballero, gauche cowboy/
a pansy in pastels.

Then my answer is NO, I am not gay.

II. If by that u mean:

I prefer and enjoy the company of men,
discuss sports and arts, a cold beer, a cool cigar,
a warm brandy.
A companion who echoes my body,
a lover who knows my body.
A strong shoulder to rest my head on,
a friend, buddy, pal; comfortable
in our own masculinity.
A deep love as old as time,
powerful and intense.

Then my answer is YES, I am gay.

-----------------
Puma/MMX
Copyright:2010/Tony Puma
‘Voices in my head, verses to be read’.

Shark/DADT

Shark (Limerick)


I met a shark in the bay
he nudged me, then swam away.

To the shore, I did swim
looking back for a fin.

T’was a dolphin, a shark that’s gay.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------




DADT (Don’t Ask-Don’t Tell)

I did not tell/
they did not ask.
I did not know/
it would be hell.

They would say/
“stop a bullet”.
That did not know/
straight from gay.

Puma/MMX
Copyright:2010/Tony Puma
‘Voices in my head, verses to be read’.

Tanka/Limerick/Haiku

Your War-My War (Tanka)

Last night Vietnam/
Iraq and Afghanistan/
humid difference.
I’m in a Roman Legion/
following foot-paths in time.

………………………………………….

G.I. (Limerick)

I joined before DADT/
3 years in the U S Army.

You say; was the bullet straight or gay?/
that hit-me that day.

T’was a Gay bullet, the one with/
the pink tippy.

…………………………………………..


Eye Candy (Haiku)

Hard bodies in view/
enclosed in empty T-shirts/
quicken pace of pulse.

……………………………………………………

Puma/2010

Copyright:2010/Tony Puma
‘Voices in my head, verses to be read’.

Birthday-2010

“Don’t get old, ye”,
my father told me.

Life is hard, we come to know,
the body creaks, and you’re in tow.

The trick is for the spirit to soar,
to places secret, and open doors.

So, I pass another year,
and wishes of birthday cheer.

I am not ready for Hell or Heaven,
and look forward to 2011.


Puma/MMX