John Anderson Poems

A gray haired man in his 70s; hiding the spring in his step
A thriving man in his 20s; except he is dead

And as I sat in the crowded room
...

On a twisting road behind me
Full of stones and pits
I spot a lonesome hobo
Who looks pensive as he sits
...

I sit sometimes and write some thoughts
and let my insides out
The hope that while I write
I unlock what life's about
...

I've heard that life is humbug
I've heard that it's a breeze
I've heard what makes the world go 'round
Is nothing to make you sneeze
...

Democrats whine as Republicans jeer;
those who aren't indicted
TV explores how nude it can go;
the First Amendment be righted
...

We gathered together; the oldest of friends
And told all we'd found and where we had been
We laughed and we smiled, it had been so long
Since we all were together in the place we belonged
...

In the islands of tables of a dark, crowded bar,
a girlfriend and I would meet.
After a while she sat down with some truth-
and left me alone to think.
...

I climbed long escalators through the mall-like structure.
Striding people, tragically together, hectically alone.
Marching through a silent early morning.
...

The true value of a gift is measured by the giver's happiness
And the receiver's delight is in the endowment of the giver's time
For the substance of happiness and soul's fulfillment
is through the intimate knowledge of how and not through what you are thought of
...

I parked my old car next to a dumpster.

The music was escaping into the sultry night air, drawing me to enter through a thick wooden door.
...