David McLansky

Veteran Poet - 1,562 Points [David McLansky] (5/24/1944 / New York City)

David McLansky Poems

361. Oh Lay Me Down 6/15/2014
362. Oh Listless Maiden In My Garden 11/17/2013
363. Oh Stupid Boy 5/26/2013
364. Oh Valerie, You Keep Me Waiting 8/19/2013
365. Oh Where Is My Love 8/19/2013
366. Old Adam In His Eden 9/25/2013
367. Old Adam In His Garden 6/8/2014
368. Old Age 3/28/2015
369. Old Age And Youth (A Riff) 12/6/2012
370. Old Age Has Its Own Alarm Clock 7/3/2013
371. Old Age Is Not For Weaklings 2/14/2014
372. Old Black Man 3/7/2014
373. Old Einstein's Dilemma 4/7/2014
374. Old Gnarled Tree 1/25/2013
375. Old Man In Grozny 2/19/2013
376. Old Rusted Truck 10/31/2013
377. Old Theme 9/6/2013
378. On A Fellow Poet's Defense Of A Friend Hitting Her Over The Head With A Bat. 6/6/2014
379. On A Woman's Defense Of Her Boyfriend Hitting Her Over The Head With A Bat. 4/1/2014
380. On Going To Sleep 7/11/2013
381. On Hospital Life 2/13/2014
382. On John Knowles A Separate Peace 12/21/2013
383. On Owain Glyn's Temperance Club 1/17/2013
384. On Reading My Poetry Book To My True Love 10/13/2013
385. On The Bench 4/12/2013
386. On The Death Of A Great Comedian 8/13/2014
387. On The Pilgrim Road With Elaine 12/14/2013
388. On Viewing A Friends Lingering Death 8/22/2013
389. On Writing Hamlet 9/24/2014
390. Only Marry A Woman It Would Be A Pleasure To Divorce 6/12/2013
391. Ophelia 3/12/2014
392. Ophelia To Hamlet 9/21/2014
393. Other Side Of A Reflection 3/29/2014
394. Over The Hills And Far Away 2/22/2014
395. Oyster Stew 1/15/2013
396. Paen To The Three Wyrd Sisters 7/5/2014
397. Papa's Eyes 2/25/2014
398. Paris Cafe: For Lillian 1/23/2013
399. Paris Hilton On Justice 4/16/2014
400. Paris,1896 6/12/2013
Best Poem of David McLansky

After My Death

No stillness filled the air,
The Nation didn't pause
Speechless with despair;
No limousine procession
Slowly snaked the road,
Winding to the crowded hill
And my last abode;
No local politicians
Recalled the City's loss
No Abbot of the Diocese
Softly kissed his Cross;
No Mayor of the Village
Called me Mankind's Friend,
No speeches intoned over me
Recalling Life at end;
At my empty grave site
Two weeping children stood,
Summarizing all I'd done
And all I ever would.

Read the full of After My Death

Galatea (A Riff)

What perfection in eye and cheek,
She shifts her body, I cannot speak,
Her back's soft light of muscled bone
That I would frame in marble stone;

What arrogance in handheld tool
That I could take what's learned in school
And reproduce her subtle beauty
Oh Pygmalion, you fail in duty.

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