Stolen Property
I trusted you with my possessions
never thought you’d steal my stuff
now I’m waiting for your confessions
hoping things don’t get too rough
all I want is my property back
return the things you stole from me
although I really didn’t keep track
and don’t expect an apology
the goods which are of most concern
my sense of humor and my sanity
and while you’re at it please return
my heart, my soul and my dignity
poem by Charlie Parant
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Always The Same Questions
a simple glance
instant romance
hoping for
an honest chance
a second look
is all it took
write your number
in my book
the slightest touch
I’m in your clutch
hold my tongue
don’t say too much
a little attention
no apprehension
my thoughts defy
all comprehension
Am I too needy?
Am I being greedy?
Are my emotions
just too speedy?
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poem by Charlie Parant
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The Wait of Water - (Villanelle)
a shift in the tectonic plate
early morning siren screeches
across the ocean people wait
awakened to this twist of fate
tsunami warning, clear the beaches
a shift in the tectonic plate
minute by minute news updat
listen to the experts speeches
across the ocean people wait
all trying to anticipate
how far this devastation reaches
a shift in the tectonic plate
don’t live in a complacent state
lessons Mother Nature teaches
across the ocean people wait
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poem by Charlie Parant
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Roadside Service
another tree with the bark ripped off
a mound of flowers, a wooden cross
a soccer ball, a teddy bear
the burnt remains of a safety flare
a set of skid marks, torn up grass
an oil stain, some shattered glass
friends all gather at the sight
holding candles, burning bright
try to figure what went wrong
break into his favorite song
remember stories through the years
some bring laughter, most bring tears
reminisce about a friend that’s gone
who wasn’t on this earth that long
someone’s brother, someone’s son
why did he have to die so young?
we’ll never drive by here again
not without remembering
poem by Charlie Parant
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Politicians - (Villanelle)
the politicians make their plans
while lawyers all review their cases
and corporate money changes hands
make policies for foreign lands
as media promotes their faces
the politicians make their plans
in words nobody understands
speeches made from well known places
and corporate money changes hands
while noisy crowds and marching bands
assemble in our public spaces
the politicians make their plans
and as the voter base expands
pollsters all predict the races
and corporate money changes hands
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poem by Charlie Parant
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Phantom Storm - (Villanelle)
a storm is coming up the coast
some other place they’d rather be
the mariners fear this one most
they pour some rum and drink a toast
as tortured souls try to break free
a storm is coming up the coast
a skeleton ship that’s manned by ghosts
made up of sailors lost at sea
the mariners fear this one most
abandoned hope and left their posts
from sinking ships they could not flee
a storm is coming up the coast
in pirate tales they often boast
but now reduced to beg and plea
the mariners fear this one most
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poem by Charlie Parant
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Canning Jars
packing the pantry
when cupboards were filled
with jars of tomatoes
and beans that were dilled
once a key player
in the family’s survival
patiently waiting
the home food revival
stashed away in the basement
all but forgotten
as now meals are made
with the push of a button
sitting for years
in the cobwebs and dust
the metal wire bails
beginning to rust
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poem by Charlie Parant
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The Eleventh Hour
“ an eye for an eye, ” their battle cry
a death row inmate waits to die
nothing left to do but wait
one last hour to contemplate
as rich, old men decide your fate
vigil persists outside the gate
the men in robes deliberate
there’s nothing more they can debate
statement issued, conviction stands
your fate’s in someone else’s hands
the Governor could intervene
but as of yet has not been seen
protesters continue chanting
witnesses have been recanting
saying they had been coerced
their testimony was rehearsed
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poem by Charlie Parant
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Middle Class, White Collar, Livin’ in the Suburb Blues (LYRICS)
Well, I get up in the morning and my shower’s sometimes cold.
Yeah, I get up in the morning and my shower’s sometimes cold,
And my fuzzy, soft, warm slippers and my bathrobe’s getting old.
You know my woman didn’t leave me and my dog don’t run away.
No, my woman didn’t leave me and my dog don’t run away,
But when I go to the ‘frigerater, sometimes she gets in the way.
Sometimes my kids they watch the Simpsons, when I want to watch the news.
Yeah, my kids they watch the Simpsons, when I want to watch the news.
I got the middle class, white collar, livin’ in the suburb blues.
Well, I went up to the boss man and I asked him for a raise.
Yeah, I went up to the boss man and I asked him for a raise.
He added to my 401 K plan and gave me more paid holidays.
Ain’t got time to change my oil now, ‘cus I’m such a busy man.
Got no time to change my oil now, ‘cus I’m such a busy man,
and my Volvo’s in the shop now, got to drive the mini-van.
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poem by Charlie Parant
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