Poem -

SHE SAID- NO!

SHE SAID- NO!

SHE SAID- NO!

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

The

Greenwich Village preachers name

was John.

He said

the kid

was a bookie running numbers.

Ophelia said,

he had a hard time in school

maybe needed a Dad.

Tried to connect

but he wasn’t ready yet.

He’s married today

and drives a NYC train, and

he still ain’t ready yet.

Oh I’m sure

he’s heard

a head full of stories

about me

some

I’m sure untrue

but he grew

a genuine dislike for me

even though

he never met me.

Well now

that I am a familiar name

as a poet

thought I’d go back in time

and scribble

a few words about him.

We never

knew each other’s wants

and desires

or the aspirations that drove us.

Hell

he might of past right by me

doing book signings

ya never ever know.

The NYC love generation

is what I grew up in 

and sure

there were a few pregnant women

back then.

Ophelia, actually

kicked down a steel door

and found me

in bed

with another woman, and

I remember

chasing her down the street

in my underwear.

Never knew

what she told the kid

but I will say

I did want her

to come on the road with me

since

Woodstock was happening

I even asked her

if she would marry me.

She said- no.

Like 0 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Log in to leave a comment.

Comments

Poem -

RIP Ricardo Antonio Garcia...

This morning the Love of my life died.

The greatest artist I have known

the most wonderful...

Poem -

GOD IS MIND

GOD IS MIND

GOD IS MIND

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

Eyes yet not fully awake…

I sit at my poet’s...

Poem -

DISTANT SON (Dedicated to...

DISTANT SON (Dedicated to Tristan)

DISTANT SON (Dedicated to Tristan)

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

I often wondered…

which...

Latest poems in Verse

Poem -

Pensive Mood

Pensive Mood

My heart won’t liberate my spirit
because it’s afraid it doesn’t come back,
If I don’t set...

Poem -

You and I

Love pouring out like thick golden sun
The gleam of bronze hair under a blue sky
Laughter...

Poem -

Loves desire

If long nights bleed into the sun, shall it weep the red day born. For blood moons cast shadows and shade...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com