Ted Sheridan Poems

It is the Fall here in America
The squirrels are all busy
Burying their ACORNS for Obama….
But informed Americans know
...

Her closed eyes whispered to me
In that Cajun French accent
She had perfected; as her
Rose petal lips wet my appetite,
...

A drought of ideas and famine of thought
Will try to censor words and silence speech;
Stealing the license by which freedom survives
...

I pay little mind to anything else in the room where I’m “at”
The clock’s ticking or the water dripping doesn’t distract
Me from believing that she is still the answer to my prayers
And she will be mine forever as long as I can own her scent
...

As a young boy of seven
My father who was an ex Marine
Took me aside and told me the facts of life
He thought I should know for my own protection
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Daughter of ours
Destroyer
Heartbreaker
How could you?
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I like to write poetry
about that which ponders
my spirit and my soul.
That which stumps my brain
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I never said so
but I always believed
you to be a fake
Your lips too perfect
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My beloved grandmother
once told me that masturbation
would lead to hairy palms,
blindness, slow urination
...