END OF INNOCENCE
I lost whatever innocence I had
back in 68, Robert Kennedy assassinated
Mai Lai a month later, the Chicago 7
Storm troopers wielding clubs like cavemen
Nixon signaling the beginning of the end
Those wide innocent eyes
digging a hole in my head
Napalm fire kissing that child’s naked body
Black smoke stuck to her skin
TV pundits playing their spin
This war that we could never win
70TH BIRTHDAY POEM
Alone in San Francisco
A samurai without a sword
Singing into the blade of night
Some where beyond the horizon
Sailors buried at sea
Rise in ghostly procession
Skeletons sharing their secrets
With withered old men lined-up
Like bowling pins
Measuring them limb to limb
Like a tailor sizing you up
For a perfect fit
TWO FRIENDS
Sitting here in North Beach
sipping on a shot of whiskey
Listening to Miles Davis on the jukebox
Smoking grass and getting drunk
Laughing at Dante and cursing hell
Fearing life as no man should
Two poets Two writers
Pens long run dry watching
The roach burn out in the hollow ashtray
TO BE A POET IN AMERICA
To be a poet in America
is to be faceless
like the Indian on a faded
Buffalo head nickel
To be a poet a Prophet a Shaman
is Boxcar Willie riding the
rails without a guitar
To be a poet in America
is to be invisible
DOWNTOWN SAN FRANCISCO
beggars staked out
at every corner
persistent as ants
at a picnic
My friend,A.D. Winans, he’s the man!
Keep the outlaw alive/ Help winans survive.
Charles Plymell
Wonderful poems by A.D. Winans. He always puts his finger on the pulse of the times….and does it so well!
Hey thanks for the fine illustrations you provided with my poems.
AD’s a poet of poets, on the mark, tough
and uncompromising. His work helps to keep me writing on.
Thanks for publishing A.D. Winans’ poems. I am always taken by how he sees the real “picture” inside his observations. His compassion and sincere concern for humanaity are rare in these times. Kudos to you for selecting his work and the perfect illustrations.