Jerry Behr Number 2 Poems

Through my computer room window I can see the
walkway, one of a labyrinth of walkways where I live.
Across the walkway lives my next door neighbor Don,
a fellow in his eighties who lives on his own.
...

The glow of the evening was still there, wind whispering in the trees, street lights just turned on. Whispering continued along the footpath mingling with footsteps and yapping dogs, then it became quiet.
...

There she goes again off to her church
group for ladies and leaving me alone. The
lame pensioner in an empty house and only
my computer for company and lonely.
...

In the land of nothing, in the middle of nowhere, and in the center of nothing.
To be here a place where there is a deafening roaring silence.
This is the land of Blaauae this place is in every suburb.
...

The Wordsmith sat in front of his anvil ready to commence his work,
he starts up the bellows of his mind. Firing up his passions, airing his thoughts,
increasing the heat of his thoughts until they become red hot; then the words are
ready for forging.
...

When he cries he sounds like the fire
brigade, police and the ambulance
all combined going to an emergency.
Sending my emotions reeling,
...

“Come on then” she allured me to once again go for a walk with her. We always went for walks in the early evenings thousands and thousands of times over years and years of time we would walk together.

I first met her as a little migrant boy when I was living with my family in a migrant hostel. During those years I would talk to her only during the daytime. Later we moved to a house in Liverpool where I grew up with my two brothers Martin and Leo.
...

I awoke in the morning,
I could hear the chorus
of birds outside,
I got dressed.
...

Here they come from all over suburbia with their walking sticks
and on crutches these brave souls to do their cultural tricks.
Grey hair with white streaks bobbing up and down, they walk
to their meeting place to have fellowship and have a talk.
...