A.H. Scott: Your Choice to Vote

Young asian woman sipping tea in European coffee shop
Photo: Tony Ward, Styling by KVaughn. Copyright 2022

Text by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022

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Your Choice to Vote

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Just remember that your choice to vote is always bigger than just about you

History didnt begin the second a doctor spanked your newborn ass and you let out a wail

Since the moment of beginning, right now and onto futures hence

Freedom is more than a bumper sticker of red, white, and blue

No time for false patriotisms cue

Democracy needs to be held up and respected true

Roes gone and Brown can be gone, too

On the ballot are deniers of election, acting like their conspiratorial vision is the only selection

Infected by the dark tide of damning what they see as the other

Some are not seen as equal in the family of humanity

Identity bashed beneath waves of an ideological haze

Banning books and thoughts of progress is the conservatives latest phase

Odd is it that they want to control what can be read

While those who are adults among them are mathematically inept

Not even knowing how many baby mamas youve screwed and left

Over and over the playbook is the same

Snarky they are, as their malarkey has taken them far

You call anyone not to the right of you a commie and lib

But, damn, dont worry about what I am, cuzI can whip a few cold remarks ever so glib

No party holds the key to what loving this country is meant to be

Voting is cornerstone of this republic in which we live

Nobody can easily think democracy can be ripped away

Thus, we better vote like it might be our last

Fascistic winds across the land have not yet passed

Hucksters, opportunists and true believers are on the ballot this year

That which they have planned for America will be something many of us cannot bear

Yet, some say both sides are the same

Well, I know one thing to be beyond a transparent claim

If these ultra-maga conservatives win, our freedoms will go quickly down the drain

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: A.H. Scott is a poet and essayist based in New York City.  Miss Scott is a veteran contributor to this blog.  To access additional articles by A.H. Scott, click here: https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/tick-tock-knockin-on-reckons-door-part2/

A.H. Scott: Elusive

Man at night club with drink in hand touching a woman as if she is elusive
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022

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Elusive

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What is that word that I am trying to find?
What is that word that I’ve been looking for?
Where did it go?
Under the bed?
In the closet beneath some clothes?
Amongst the cluttered papers and journals scratched with ink
Was it yes?
Was it no?
Maybe it was a bit of both
Oh, I don’t know
It is four letters and so elusive to the touch
It can change a smile to a sorrowful gaze
Quartet of letters leaves you in a haze
The word wasn’t love
The word wasn’t hate
The word is when
When is the word
When is the thought
When is the future that can’t be bought
When was the word that came to me
How simple it is to feel the word upon your lips
When will the sun be in my eyes
When will I be the one to arise
Arise above the staleness I lived within
The word is when and now my life begins
Elusive it was, yet I grasp it close to my heart
In a life filled with starts and stops
When is the time that nothing holds you back
When is this moment in time that we find the sun so bright
When is this moment in time we dance towards midnight
Elusive embrace, for when is mine now
There’s not a moment to waste
I love you when…..
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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by Ms. Scott, go here:https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/circus-magamus/
A.H. Scott’s book: Bad Guys Finish Fast & Good Guys Finish Last is available on Amazon!

 

A.H. Scott: Sunrise

Sunrise photo of Philadelphia skyline
Photo: Hassan Smith, Copyright 2022

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022

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Sunrise

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I saw the sunrise in your eyes
As I pulled a crumpled, wintergreen sheet around my form the next morning
Your smile was all I needed to rejuvenate me that night before
Yet, what we shared was so much more
Last night was one of many wows
The moment you came to my apartment door
Red roses in a bouquet you handed me, as we kissed
I never knew such a moment of joy
You were the surprise that I never expected would come true
The dress of lime green fell from my skin because of you
White undergarments were unhooked and roll off my body
As you watched me, while sitting in a Chippendale chair
Suave and sexy was my man of European flair
He had brown eyes and salt and pepper hair
Sunrise smile that always made every moment I spent with him even brighter
He stood and approached my naked body by the bed
Those hands of yours were skillful and my lips upon him were bliss
Warm and moist I was to his touch
As I ran my fingers along his love-line, that smile broadened
When the bed became our playground
Each of us reverted to playing games
Hands and arms interlocked in a rumba of racy rendezvous
As both of our bodies heaved in anticipation
Then the moment of cresting came for us together
We fell asleep in each other’s arms
You left my flesh tingling from your charismatic charm
Make no doubt it
You have the brilliant disguise
Man of honey hue you are my sunrise
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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by Ms. Scott, go here:https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/circus-magamus/
A.H. Scott’s book: Bad Guys Finish Fast & Good Guys Finish Last is available on Amazon!

 

A.H. Scott: The Touch

An intimate close up photo of an interracial couple
Bill and Ayesha. Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022

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The Touch

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Touch of his hand against mine at sunset was divine
Not some overheated twisting of passion was needed by either of us
It was nice to know a man whose hands could be so light upon my skin
His fingers traced my cheek and then my lips, as I laughed in response
Touch me as we stand along the shore and I’m yours forevermore
Tenderness has a weight that a torrid tangle can never compete with
Sun’s going down against the horizon
I walk with you and you place your muscular arm around my shoulder
I touch you with a peck upon your cheek
And you laugh in response to me
That single touch from you was all that I hoped it would be
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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by Ms. Scott, go here:https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/circus-magamus/

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A.H. Scott’s book: Bad Guys Finish Fast & Good Guys Finish Last is available on Amazon!

 

A.H. Scott: Ginger Wind

people grinding on the dance floor
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2021. Selected from the Night Fever Portfolio.

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2021

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Ginger Wind

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Ginger wind blew across Montego Bay

Rising from her bed that morning, the birds were chirping away

As she walks through town, her cheeks on both ends leave no one with a frown

Round and firm, her cheeks are desired by all

When the sun goes down, she always has a ball

Shaking her hips to the left and right

Men join in the sway and denim cloaked manhood takes flight

At a club on the edge of the town, the locals enjoyed getting down

Tight buns beneath neon yellow scarf, matched the bikini bottom underneath

Never naked in the public square, she went to the edge of exhibition

Dancehall queen was every man’s dream

She played that part so well

Grinding bodies on the dance floor

Sweat dripping and men stiffening

Damn, it was so raunchy and hot

Ecstasy came to all on that floor, as the lights went off and on

There were intersperses of five minutes in the dark

That’s when a beefy stud and Ginger filled their spark

Yellow bikini bottom pulled to one side

Sexy dancer to Ginger’s left started to slide

In and out the heat rose between them

As the beat of the music swirled around the floor

Warning bell and light of blue began to blink on and off

Women and their men were finishing each other off

About ten to twenty couples in positions varied as the rainbow

Bikini bottom placed back in position quickly, Ginger continued to dance

With lights completely back on again, all bodies were clothed

Aah, another night at the club was joyous for dancers with dirty thoughts

Three in the morning came, as did all who wanted to

She made her way home along, as other dancers did too

Ginger wound down in her bed all alone on the other side of town

Dirtiest dance is the best one of all… 

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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by Ms. Scott, go here: https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/heel/

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A.H. Scott’s book: The Lost Winter of Lyla Strauss is available on Amazon!