Ted Sheridan Poems

I was dreaming of the war the other night;
I had returned with all of my weapons loaded
to the jungles of my misspent youth.
The helicopter size mosquitoes immediately
...

When I leave this body and the poetry within me dies
I don’t care what happens to it
Put it in a giant plastic trash or lawn bag
Throw me in the bay to feed the fishes
...

I am a simple prospector panning for a little gold in life
Even one shiny little nugget would do; that I might
attach my value to it as I am of so little worth.
I wake up in the morning with empty pockets;
...

I have to laugh at the prospect of retiring
because in my heart I know I will die before
I can ever save enough….
...

The Poet had become constipated and filled with a wasteful and debilitating desire
to succeed financially…
Not enough fiber or greens being served up with his clichéd metaphors of red meat
His pseudo intellectual friends scattered all likely culpability to the wind
...

With the rarest of snows come their prayers for peace
Seen as a miracle to the eyes of the battle weary
Evil freezes still for but the moment
As God speaks to his children in a voice they can all understand….
...

As a hunter one must hide in ambush for the prey
Or be willing to stalk it to the kill…
As a lover one must only declare their desire
And the prey will lie down to be slaughtered willingly…
...

I’m always looking for the answer
Never stopping to smell the flowers or the coffee
Because I hate the taste of coffee
It doesn’t mix well with rum
...

In all honesty I don’t get along with many people
Especially those who measure time in dog years
Or those who name their cats after cartoon characters
I try to avoid without conflict people who are constantly happy
...

I lose everything in the end,
when the lights are turned out and my tongue dries.
Hanging by the skin of my teeth,
I can’t hold onto the rope that twists above the quicksand
...