John Ackerman Poems

Pimple Popper

bats in the attic
cobwebs at night
...

blind me in ports to see building on my legacy as exist each port to see
we are all high you see sleeping on the Boergeos Sea heading into an odyssy
he beat far to slow stand still to repeat, an see the likes of Jimmy Page leaning to age;
stregnthened by merchant climatic claim that alwas seems the same
...

Trees

learning the breeze stay clear from the foam
living your life some where all alone
...

a plate of fries left dangling on a wooden sofa
building bridges to be no more
you waited for me in a harvest of exploits
the Boogy Man came to whistle in my ear
...

Dust is what I think of when we pass away
Parts of us before our time, and then all at once
I love overthinking, seeing parts of me gone
...

The twilight of the day draws near,
The blazing sun is laid to rest,
And dimming skies let stars appear
That twinkle in the bloodstained west.
...

found to be idle
a sold out recycle,
80,000 dollar machine
want to take over
...

there is a strange list
to there wet ranger of clouds
stroking our fields;
heavy pheasants were
...

as I look to the sea
follow close to lick the cheese
Their Trouper
...

blanket me..
sheer lover so sore we vent,
blanket in the basket
...