Muscle Mansion

Muscle Mansion is the exclusive

Center for the elite

Champions of body building

 

Expanding with breadth of definition

They flex anvils of biceps and pectorals

And stride to mirrors

To see their statuesque physiques

 

The daily bulk of muscle mass

Proportioned by the stress exerted

On their joints and bones

Is now beneath that sleek elastic skin

Stretched within a fraction of the force

That vulcanized exhausted cells

 

Another day for living in that dream

Of bulging brawn

A fusion of that furious assault

On muscle born to fabricate

The inarticulate frozen form

 

 

Ted Goodell

June 5, 2010

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The Grasshopper

 

Did you ever see a grasshopper in La Mesita Park

Just yesterday suddenly and unexpectedly

A grasshopper sprang to my shoulder

There it sat with cautious pride

Accepting the convenience

Of my walking on the grass

How I accept your place of rest

Sprightly little guest

For eye to eye

In the morning light

I held you in your early flight

I deemed your mood

Not all contrite

Gray little insect with all your might

You learned to cling throughout your life

Our time together seemed so brief

I hope you found a sheltered leaf

But should you need a safer church

Upon my shoulder you may always perch

 

Ted Goodell

August 20, 2010

The Bracelet

 

Around her wrist

An ornament of silver shines

Its loveliness is not illusion

But a fact

Illuminated like a flower

That turns into a spring of flowers

Whose petals now adorn a magic fire

 

What incandescent force compels

This lace of silver to entwine your wrist

To purchase the allure of placement

Where it circles over skin and bone

Before its round configuration

Orbits over all our lonely destinations

 

Ted Goodell

December 30, 2010

Image

 

In time the image

Is less like me

And more like you

Pencil legs long boned

And thin

The vestibule of the groin

A web of shadows

Above the knees

Much less like weight

And more like wind

Blown by the head

That once had hair

A prong called nose

Between the

Planets of my eyes

That once saw sound

But now see nothing

But the noise

 

Ted Goodell

March 16, 2010