Zumwalt Poems Online

Posts tagged ‘Zumwalt’

Elegy for a close attachment

I am pleased to announce Zumwalt’s recent poem “Elegy for a close attachment” has been published today at the respected topical poetry site, New Verse News: https://newversenews.blogspot.com/2025/11/elegy-for-close-attachment.html

Here was the original poem written by Zumwalt:

Elegy for a close attachment

I once loved this world–my world–which
danced with emdashes–
the best kind–
at end of lines–
seemed so clean–
went directly to the heart
–or at start of lines
or–in-between

now, it is the mark of the beast,
and I accept the notice to
cease and desist:
doing my best to
return to,
and better
learn, the
effective incorporation of proper punctuation.

–zumwalt (October 2025)

And then Zumwalt made a slight revision to align with this news story: It’s been discussed online for some time how ChatGPT’s excessive use of em dashes are more like a bug than a feature. Finally, Sam Altman and team have come to the rescue.   As discussed in this November 14th news story, Sam Altman posted on X,  a few minutes before midnight on November 13th: “Small-but-happy win:  If you tell ChatGPT not to use em-dashes in your custom instructions, it finally does what it’s supposed to do!”  

https://techcrunch.com/2025/11/14/openai-says-its-fixed-chatgpts-em-dash-problem/

Elegy for a close attachment

I once loved this world–my world–which
danced with em dashes–
the best kind–
at end of lines–
seemed so clean–
went directly to the heart
–or at start of lines
or—in-between.

Now, it is the mark of the beast,
and I accept Sam’s notice to
cease and desist:
doing my best to implement on request
the effective incorporation of proper punctuation.

–zumwalt (revised November 14, 2025)

Category:

Free Verse, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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she started to stop ironing

she started to stop ironing

creases and wrinkles
pouts and interpretations
a phone number from Port Said
left in a pocket

Oh, how the gin fizzingly stirs
swirls of melodies unfurl
as veils drip
like honeyed
falling stars

Ah,
how the cover
stays low
so the currency flows
like foot traffic at
the dusty bazaar

“I’ll show you Egypt”
has been her most memorable reply
but I doubt her intentions
and so plan another solo excursion
hoping that
once I return
that crumpled, rumpled look
will be comfortably cool at work

— zumwalt (1998 with minor revision in 2025)

Category:

1990s, 1998, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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Over the counter

Over the counter
 
 
I never liked them anyways
And THEY ALWAYS came with a safety cap
for something that’s not now very safe
 
The bottle always asserted its authority
just two
wait this long if you really want more

Treated me like a child
even though it said “extra strength”
 
I am not pregnant
that’s hard for a man
particularly in their sixties
but what’s not good for a goose
is maybe even worse for a gander.
 
I live with pain
constantly
Bad neighbors
Bad news
and so —
pretty bad headaches…
 
I can easily explore better options
no warnings on dosages
I well know
what works well
and even
if I have
a brutal headache the next morning
and mess up the car driving
At least I had me some fun.

— zumwalt (2025)

Category:

2020s, 2025, Free Verse, humor, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Satire, Zumwalt

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Decay

Decay

Discrimination lies with concentration
Machinations, machinations
   equilibrium staggers—
Smell the breath of industry—intoxicated fumes
Has the ignition point been reached?
Atomize before the vestigial globules are digested
   and Odovacar pulverizes the wall

–Zumwalt (late 1970s or early 1980s)

Category:

1970s, Free Verse, humor, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Satire, writing, Zumwalt

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Burnt Toast


Burnt Toast

Orange!
Hellish pastels screaming unknown genius and hint at hidden chortles
While nicotine nimbi scud and stain
And we suck slyly, slyly sweetened caffeine and wait for it to
reach crit mass in our body-plexus-pit
How’d we find this sticky formica stop anyway?
We iron out our cerebral wrinkles
Observe the threading warp and woof
And still can’t discern how we got in
Or where they hid the exit
So all you know is that its always open–
Isn’t this the graveyard shift?–
And the cross-eyed waitress will bring a misspelled, miscalculated
mistaken check when dinner’s over
whining whining wining and dining
Somebody waste that skinny kid if he won’t stop bellowing
Disagreeable distaste in distinct decibels
Disgusting!
The food may slither down your maw like greasy lint
But can’t we at least eat in peace?
A garish cosmos of flickering neon and cretin muzak
It seems as if everything was drawn from the maniac cook’s
Primordial soup
The proper proprietor leans in languishing linger leisure
Across the register
Smiling slightly as he strokes his beard, unconcerned
Christ! Is this morbid midnight meal a subtle jest
Or is he just plain stupid?

–Zumwalt (late 1970s or early 1980s)

Category:

1980s, Free Verse, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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Quadroset

 

Quadroset


i. dawn

the hillstrings lace the pale garden
shadows are lifted
teasing the ground
      beak your piece says the mother bird
      for worms are precious food
a tranquil birth
and yet no clue
of the chaos yet to come.


ii. rush hour

screeching skidding
piercing ears
      no art could match this pace
crying howling
curses threats
      bodies pushed around
smoking burning
greedily fuming
      factories wait in ambush
oh no  can't stop    must be off  
    my time is much too dear
      look around this ghastly ground
      motion is the coming price
      the virus that will spread throughout
           gain begets a further need for gain
           and soon nothing will gain to stand.


iii. salad bar

              radishes
        cucumbers tomatoes
          garbanzos bacon
 vinegar and oil onions roquefort
     croutons almonds greenbeans
    more and more and more and more
 oh yes I have to try the lettuce          


iv. the evening

the culminations of aggravations
the see-saw city glare
      mixing masses of migraine messes
      must this mottle meet the mind
old sayings still limp around
and appetizers drop on the ground
      the news is needed if it's not misreaded
      everything remains and continues
      like an out of control hoover vacuum cleaner
      sucking everything up
count the days   forget old ways   it's all a daze
       and deeply dives the disordered ditch digger.

-- zumwalt (1973)

Category:

1970s, Modern Poetry, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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Clarion Blues

Clarion Blues

Soft gentle beauty leaning against the window
Fostering a belief that loneliness is loveliness
            what is good must start with pain
            A perfect state
                      of perfect mind.

Cool pleasant sand
Lies in a land unknown
            play and fun is wasted time
            and idle are the satisfied.
A self-constructed sterilized cell for working days
And nights towards a goal that cannot be achieved.
            the rain and sun are both the same.
Is this a way of life?

-- zumwalt (1974)

Category:

Free Verse, Modern Poetry, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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poet

poet

she stabs her way into recognition
one victim at a time
receiving little pleasure in the crime

— zumwalt 1998

Category:

1998, Free Verse, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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Changes of Note

It is with mixed feelings, and pretty intense regret, that I am aggressively scaling back on the publishing of Zumwalt poems on this site. As Zumwalt’s longtime co-editor, I cannot ignore the minimal traffic on this site and the numerous options available for me to submit some of Zumwalt’s previously unpublished poems to diverse and respected publications which will provide Zumwalt an audience of thousands or even tens of thousands of readers. I owe this to my friend Zumwalt.

When I was a data architect, I was fortunate to have had several of my articles on Data Warehousing published in Data Management Review. I know the personal joy of seeing one’s own work published in a respected periodical. Zumwalt has been deprived of this opportunity since the unfortunate, but predictable, cessation of the GHLM newsletter, which had contracted with him for exclusive publication rights. He insists that publication of his work is not important and even scoffs at its future likelihood. I suspect this is not so on either count.

In order to keep this blog active, I will continue to publish anything Zumwalt sends me exclusively targeted for this blog — provided that I cannot persuade him to allow me to forward such material on to potential publishers. I will also continue to author posts like “Fifty Year Friday”, which showcases a combination of my flawed writing against reminiscences of some of the great music of fifty years ago. I wish I had time to write more — I gave up Century Sunday, Seventy Year Saturday and other features due to time constraints; I wish I could write better — I gave that up a long time ago — I write for the joy of writing and I am fine with one reader or ten, ten being about the maximum audience I have for any given post.

But as typical with my ruminations, I have veered off-track, at the expense at both my message and your patience.

My plan is this: Fill up some of the empty blog-time by engaging a well-respected, now-retired former literary critic (I will say no more out of respect to protect this individual’s identity, which is this person’s wish.) He has indicated he will record a short lecture for each previously published Zumwalt poem on zumpoems.com. I will use a software app I have to transcribe each lecture and post it here. Not sure when he will deliver the first lecture, but he is very knowledgeable on both poetry and all of the Zumwalt poems on this site and all the Zumwalt poems that have been previously published in the GHLM newsletter and the original GHLM (which, acronym, dear reader, simply stands for Good Humor Literary Magazine) — and, I believe, as I finish this long-winded, poorly written sentence, is something he can do easily off-the-cuff, with minimal time and preparation required. I have seen him lecture live on impromptu-requested topics, and it is quite something to have witnessed.

Until then, you continue as my distantly cherished and greatly appreciated friend, so please return so we can meet again.

Category:

Century Sunday, Contemporary Poetry, Fifty Year Friday, Modern Poetry, Music, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Zumwalt

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Washington’s Post

Washington’s Post

This government,
the offspring of our own choice,
uninfluenced and unawed,
the support of your tranquility at home,
your peace abroad,
of that very liberty
which you so highly prize,
(Experience in my own eyes)

you have in a common cause fought and triumphed together,
will not exercise more charity in deciding on the opinions,
and actions of one another.
One of the most baneful foes of republican government,
brought to the verge of dissolution due to diversity of Sentiments.

Lifted them to unjust dominion,
will, if there is not a change in the system,
be our downfall as a Nation.

With the real design to direct, control,
counteract, or awe,
to confine each member of the society
within the limits prescribed by the laws,

The powers of the Executive
of the United States are more definite,
and better understood,

to guard
the public good.

— George Washington (edited by zumwalt)

zumwalt’s notes:

Phrases from first and fourth stanzas are from Farewell Address (1796).
Phrases from second stanza are from Farewell Address and Letter to 1792 Alexander Hamilton.
Phrases from third stanza from a letter written in 1783.
Phrases from fifth stanza is from a letter written in 1794.
Sixth and final stanza is from the 1790 Address to Congress.

This poem was awarded third place (bronze) in a 2025 allpoetry.com contest: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2879139–Paid-members–Win–50:-Found-Poem

Category:

2025, Poems, Poetry, Politics, Zumwalt

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