Steve in torture chamber
Planes are not made for Giants
The headrest’s too short, if you please,
The seat-width is always a squeeze,
But more than my weight,
My six feet and eight,
Means there’s never a space for my knees.
One plane had a restroom so small,
I could not use it at all,
The ceiling was low,
And to sit was a show,
For my legs were clear out in the hall.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 20, 2015
The Kingdom Tower, Saudi Arabia
Meeting an engineer helping design and build what will be the world’s tallest building at over 3,250 feet, the Kingdom Tower in Saudi Arabia, reminds Steve of his first published poem. “I had written it in Chicago in 1963 while in college watching the new skyscrapers being built to surpass the then tallest building in town, the Prudential Building.” “Towers” was published 10 years later in The Anglican Review.
TOWERS
Of course a tower is built by starting from
the bottom. Strong workers and machines make
a joint to earth with wet, grey gravel–form
with time a foundation almost like rock.
Orange steel is welded, riveted, and made
to stand naked pointing skyward. Then blocks
and bricks are hoisted slowly up the side
providing covering flesh the tower lacks.
Small children make towers in trees, and these,
though only made of rotting boards, still stand
as proudly strong in little children’s eyes
as those from which much older men descend.
But both kind of towers still seem to say
with their builders: we look down on the sky.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 19, 2015
Don’t Look For Me On Twitter
My poems I never can Tweet,
I know many folks find it neat–
e e cummings could do it,
He’ a much better poet,
But my verses take much much longer to wreet.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 17, 2015
Click HERE for the Poetry Foundation’s bio for e.e. cummings.
I have made a new “Friend” on my FaceBook:
It is Francis, the Pope–you can look;
But he never will “Comment”,
Or will “Like” what I present,
He just Pronounces and quotes the Good Book.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 14, 2015
WASP LEG
(How to remember
the 7 Deadly Sins)
Wrath is unrighteous indignation
Avarice is wanting more than enough
Sloth kept me from doing what I should
Pride has I in the middle
Lust will do it no matter what
Envy hates that you have more than I do
Gluttony is as American as apple pie
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 13, 2015
A New Inscription
For The Statue of Liberty
The lamp once was a beacon. Now the hand
holds high a searchlight, torch, a burning flame
exposing all the exiles, all who came
unasked in search of liberty. Our land
is full, our steel gate closed. Those who demand
a chance to live in freedom now will name
our border guard lady Mother of Shame:
the rich protected, refugees are banned.
“No sanctuary here, no room,” she cries
with rigid lips. “No welcome at our door
for homeless masses struggling to rise
above the hunger, pain, disease and war
in lands where they were born. Compassion dies.
I send the poor back to El Salvador.”
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 13, 2015
Cooperative Scrabble
Say YES to socialism!
Fight Corporate Power!
Play COOPERATIVE on-line Scrabble:
Make symmetrical patterns,
Ignore the score!
Work together, mutual satisfaction–
Down with competition!
Share information! Power to the People!
(K & S below used all letters but one.)
SUCCESS!
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 10, 2015
Wisteria around post
How does the tendril sense
a post is near? How does
it know to wrap clockwise?
A plant knows more than we
and we can even see!
We close our eyes, we’re lost–
we’ll run into the post…
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 8, 1015
Often only your tail twitched in sleep.
Now you move not at all.
When you were spry,
you batted toys (and mice)
with a blur of paws.
When snuggled into a lap,
only the felt vibration
indicated life.
Digging your grave
let me mix muscles
with tears– energy
put to some use.
Rest well, my friend.
I knew you were my friend
even when you ignored me.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, July 8, 2015
The year was 1965,
and Mrs. J was 65,
and she had never learned to drive.
It was so very long ago,
but I would drive her to and fro
through the streets of Chicago.
To change lanes left, I’d turn my head,
but she would yell, “Look straight ahead!”
“When you do that I am afraid!”
She started dating a new man;
he said, “I just don’t understand,
learn to drive–I know you can.”
She took lessons, a good sport,
and told me then just what she thought:
“Now I know of that blind spot!”
Views from the Edge 