Poems

Original Poetry by Warren Gaston

The House of the Soul

"If you would understand what I am, know this; all that I have said I have uttered playfully, and I was by no means ashamed, thereby. I danced." Jesus Christ The Acts of John The house of the soul is a mansion. There are no walls in the house of the soul, no halls, no...

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Poetry Is Useless

Poetry is useless. It gets nothing done. builds no houses, makes no sales, raises no taxes, organizes no cities into grids of streets and avenues, cannot drive I-94 from Chicago to Detroit, clears no snow from a winter storm, fixes no faucets, removes no tumors,...

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Undeserved Praise

The Effusive Donald Trump   I am so impressed with the technological and political prowess of Joe Biden and the Democrats. The organizational skill it took to purloin  81,283,098 votes for a 51.3% majority across the states and numerous county Boards of Election, not...

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2 Travel Haiku

written in Kennedy Airport waiting for a flight to Athens, Greece April 21, 1993 crowds coming, going a city waiting for flight arrive and depart whine of jet engines the language of flight birds fly silent wings

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The Great Striptease

On June 16, 2015, the heavens opened and descending effortlessly on a crystal flight of stairs, gliding down among a handpicked adoring throng, the emperor, in a brand-new suit arrived to claim his throne. All decked out in his ego’s desperate need for praise, he took...

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Boxes

the world is made of boxes the earth isn’t but the world is boxes we build containers boxes we are contained        restrained order is maintained because we refrain from stepping out of our comfortable boxes sometimes we think we think outside the box only to...

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Americans the Beautiful

America is a beautiful landscape, “from sea to shining sea.” America is also a beautiful idea, “with liberty and justice for all.” An old question: Can we live together, yet behave as if each one of us was living alone? Put another way; can we live well in a free and...

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The Monotonous Year

The same old, same old, day after live long day. Fridays felt like Wednesdays, Tuesdays like Thursdays, Mondays like the day of the sun, not the day of the moon. At least Saturdays felt saturnine, dark and heavy, like the planet and the god. This year can’t end...

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The Incumbent’s Smile

During the candidates debate, the incumbent smiled like an angel, like an angel who forgot the first line of her auspicious announcement: “Be not afraid.” Her smile seduced me into thoughts of edible underwear, no durable substance, the fantasy of privilege and...

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