Grasping At Straws

Grasping vagrancy in one’s child
A simplistic act is not
Fractured maternal heart bleeds wild
Suffered soul, the abyss caught
Crucible remains defiled

Futile remedy, ailment breeds
Posturing all heedless things
Neglecting primal earthly needs
Harsh inebriant trappings
Averse entirely lucid pleads

Clamping malady straining chest
Wakeful blackness, vanished days
Clutched wee suckling babe at breast
Cast tears, enduring malaise
Reflection of having caressed

Tragic sustenance chosen, vile
Sighted, resolved not to see
Relentless self imposed exile
Indifferent to love me
Offer life to capture one smile

Grasping at straws, simple is not
Cognizant if safer spot
An alternative to beguiled
Alter processes of thought
Desperate and need to know she fought

B.G. Bradley

Eber& Wein Publishing

I’m proud to say… I’ve been asked to submit a poem for Eber&Wein Publishing’s Who’s Who in American Poetry. I submitted “Grasping at Straws”. Two years ago I got published in their yearly anthology with “In Full Bloom”. Now I’m not bragging really…a year later they requested a poem and I sent “Lasagna Love” and I never heard back from them. Lol. I guess that wasn’t they’re cup of tea. Anyway I’ll see what happens this time. There is a prize involved too. That’s always exciting. 🙂

Poem

Thru The Rain

Rainy day people and frogs
Packed new York streets, mossy bogs
Umbrella or bumbershoot
In quagmire, on crowded route
Splashing masses, polliwogs

Precipitation, cascade
The alley or everglade.
Plebeians and horny toads
Wetlands, winding back roads
Holding brolly or sunshade

Mobs, croaker in the wallow
Soggy marsh, path to follow
A sprinkle pitter-patter. Parasol, doesn’t matter
Your bullfrog and average Joe

Poem-Just For Fun :)

Soakin’ My Dogs

Lived a senile woman and a shrunk aged man
Sippin’ steamin’ coffee from a used soup can
Both of them slouchin’ in their rockin’ chair
Deeply breathin’ in the crisp mornin’ air

Gnarled twosome with chock full day ahead
She started some yeast for potato bread
His suspenders strained to hold up his pants
Chewin’ on a stem- inspected his hemp plants

She with straw whisk tended the dirt floor
He scored quarts of moonshine- wisht he had more
The timeless lady sat straight churnin’ butter
Dodderin’ spouse feigned fixin’ the shutter

Hardy old gal got to smokin’ the hog
He tooled towards town- just him and his dog
While she hung the fresh linen on the line
He pulled up to his still- was runnin’ fine

It was way past time to rustle up grub
Tipsy ‘ole guy gave his neck a good rub
She sizzled them up some hogback and beans
He perched at the table calm by no means

At last they sat down commencin’ to chew
Forgot her uppers went and snatched his too
Soon after they dined on their scrumptious fare
Ambled back in pain to the rockin’ chair

Elderly pair soaked their dogs in dish pan
A snort of moonshine out of handy soup can
Couldn’t think of a better end to a day
Than to soak- smoke and snort their cares away

Poem

STANZA JUNKIE

I am an alcoholic
I used to smoke and drink
But now my drug of choice
Is notebook paper and ink

I can’t get enough
It flows right thru my head
Keep my pad and pen
Right next to my bed

I’m a junkie when it
Comes to composition
Used to scratch tickets
Another sad addiction

In the distant past
Stocked up on bottles of booze
Now it’s ink and comp book
That I wisely choose

I love to scribble
Compose and formulate
Of my poetry
I have a jealous mate

I write at night
So as not to ignore him
But this is important
Not some silly whim

When I’m out of paper-ink
I go thru withdrawal
An envelope, a sticky note
Most anything to scrawl

Verse, rhyme, sonnet
I really love it all
If I’m not careful
I’ll start penning on the wall

Try to write a daily poem
I need to get my fix
Limerick, Haiku
Doesn’t matter the mix

It’s an addiction
I can take on the run
It helps heal inside
Plus it’s lots of fun

🙂