Train 11 Leaving Portland
Southbound
To LA
Passing rows of tents, graffiti,
Trash and litter where flowers and grass once lined the way
Broken glass, crushed cans and throwaway furniture that once improved a life
Personal belongings, bikes... – by Gregory Baranoff | 230 Views added 10 months ago
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Don’t box me shut or enclose me in an urn to display me on the mantel,
Or drown me in the ocean or the sea, but scatter me, scatter me, take me back,
Scatter me under the bough of the towering oak tree near the cast iron bell, ... – by Gregory Baranoff | 240 Views added 1 year ago
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To The Girl In The Red Dress
Fifty years, five decades, half a century ago
We held hands, walked along the sand
Your smile and laughter, the sound of your voice
Filled my heart with such incredible joy
Those memories came back with a... – by Gregory Baranoff | 46 Views added 2 months ago
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Sometimes I feel like Van Gogh
Misunderstood, unliked, forgotten
On the verge
Yes, on the verge
I feel like him
Ignored, brushed off, used, confused
They cackle at me, laugh
Drive me away, drive me back
Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!
... – by Gregory Baranoff | 44 Views added 4 months ago
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The Silence of Time
Fifty years, five decades, half a century ago
We held hands, walked along the sand
Your smile and laughter, the sound of your voice
Filled my heart with such incredible joy
Those memories came back with photographs found... – by Gregory Baranoff | 225 Views added 5 months ago
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The Devil Wore a Keffiyeh
Last week the devil donned a keffiyeh
And sent his minions on a subhuman, abhorrent task
Initiating death, destruction and spreading fear
Reminding all of us how close we are to his hell
Opposing forces attacked... – by Gregory Baranoff | 57 Views added 6 months ago
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Death Follows Her
Death follows her like a cat
Meowing for a meal
Walking in between her frail legs
In figure eights
Purring with its tail up
Brushing against dried, flaking skin
Avoiding the metal walker
With yellow tennis ball shoes
... – by Gregory Baranoff | 119 Views added 7 months ago
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Charred Remains
This month weighs heavy on the heart
Goes around in circles in my mind
It throws my psyche upside down
It conjures up far, far memories
And brings them side by side with yesterday’s events.
Charred remains of homes and... – by Gregory Baranoff | 40 Views added 7 months ago
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Sadly Gay
Today’s melancholy took on extra weight
When I heard Tony Bennett had passed away at 95.
So, I youtubed his greatest hits,
Listened and relistened to the one about the city by the bay
It left me more melancholy, more sadly gay,
... – by Gregory Baranoff | 53 Views added 9 months ago
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The Fourth of July
I tried to look forward to yesterday.
It was the Fourth of July.
The day off, the grill, family and or friends,
Kids are older now, live out of state, grandkids growing up too fast.
Family ties, just a cousin left, at 93,... – by Gregory Baranoff | 47 Views added 9 months ago
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The Abandoned Gate
Sometime ago
It swung freely
The latch closed with a snap
There was a purpose to it
It's been left unused for a while
Propped open with a rock
Grass has grown to form a garden
For an enterprising gopher's burrow... – by Gregory Baranoff | 154 Views added 1 year ago
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Under the Bough
I found posted
A flyer on a wall
“Summer Program”
Mr. Johnson said, “Why not?
This might be good for you.”
Two weeks passed
Then Carl Munger
A towering man, a minister, and an educator
His confidence, his smile, the... – by Gregory Baranoff | 12 Views added 1 year ago
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The Oaks of Midland’s Valley
Dedicated to
Paul and Louise Squibb, Ben and Kay Rich and Carl and Kathy Munger
I
Seems like yesterday
I sprinted for glory and ribbons,
Hers and... – by Gregory Baranoff | 548 Views added 2 years ago
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What Could Have... – by Gregory Baranoff | 27 Views added 2 years ago
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Buffalo... – by Gregory Baranoff | 25 Views added 2 years ago
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3:00 a.m. I see your text
Too late
I close my eyes
To infinite particles the color of... – by Gregory Baranoff | 38 Views added 2 years ago
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The call tonight broke the silence
Sister A. called with the news
Sister Linda came to town
Twenty years of separation ending
Father J. was dead.
I heard it in her whiskey drowned voice
Tears of sadness and relief
A cleansing for redemption
Like... – by Gregory Baranoff | 1,045 Views added 2 years ago
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