Tommy Szamosi Poems

I read the personalized plates on thousands of cars
on city streets & freeways where I spend many hours,
My grammatical routine keeps me amused and involved
to guess at the true meanings until they're all solved.
...

These gloves have felt winter's bitter cold,
They've held shovels when they were told:
Dig! Dig that foxhole soldier boy -
Then climb into your earthen bed and pray.
...

Hey decay...of human flesh
bro - come what may i'm here to stay,
Dead fish stink high in Marakesh
hair turning gray, but i'm here to play.
...

Hide a key...to human flesh
bro - come what may i'm here to stay,
Dead fish stink high in Marakesh
hair turning gray, but i'm here to play.
...

I found the KEY...of human flesh
bro - come what may I AM here to stay,
Young and old still starve in old Marakesh
their hair turning gray, and I LIVE yet another day.
...

Relinquish the connection that
ties all the loose ends together
for separate entities they must remain forever.........................
...

Hiding under
everyone's
emotional lid
is a volcanic
...

i AM someone who lives a life
without a home - without a wife
i AM a tourist, a vagabond...
my tales, you know, they do astound.
...

My favorite poem tells it all
in black graffiti on the wall
they took me down to detention hall
sat me next to a kid named Saul.
...

The hills are alive with the sound of thunder,
tourists watching hookers just doing their number,
a sound that's heard not there, oh not down below,
what keeps them up all night – hey, is it just the dough?
...