Tuesday, October 10, 2017

How to Spot a Poem


To begin...
Describe the essence in a baby's laugh
Disseminate the message of a drunken preacher's
Sermon on a saint

Whisper to the silence
You find most fearful
Muse over who will be thinking of you
When a certain aroma occurs

Try cupping a sleepy kitten while
Distilling the fount of it's tranquil smile
Catch rain in your sleeping hand
Taste it with a pen

Spot the poem
In showing grace for a dying creature
With nothing to offer in return
Only the expectations of the universe

Humming a song with no lyrics
Yet everyone knows the meaning
The undeniable need to cry
Possessing no reason to do so

Spotting a poem is as exquisite as your first breath
And as ruthless as your last heartbeat
All the while finding perfection
In an imperfect world




Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Black Birds of Autumn


Autumns crows have fallen out
Solemnly resting on branches barren
Silhouetted in the blushing dawn
Warming their damp feathers
Brooding, chanting their awkward song

In funeral attire they gawk and morn
The end of Summers sweet berries
Big fat bugs 
Bombing windshields
Pranking the squirrels

Backs to the wind 
They sit and sulk
Reminiscing on gentle showers
Stealing cookies from drowsy babies
Scintillating flowers

Dark sentinels though they be
No admiration do they seek
They only party with their clique
Sharing a joke now and then
That always ends in loud guffaws

Friday, September 15, 2017

Acquiescence


Bring me vellum and Charcoal
  Then lay awhile in tepid light
Humming and winking
  Fresh and naked as a newborn fold

There used to be music
  Fall and winter spring and summer
Comes now the doors rusty report
  With cheeky landlords process server

Bring me parchment and indigo ink
  Then clear the table, strewn in waste
No checks will there be drawn
  On this counter of buckets singing with rain

There used to be words
  Cherished and clever
Before this rasping hollow
  Conch shell echo of air waves absurd

Bring me wine and honey pears
  But stay a while
Love making on slightly clean sheets
  Knowing the master has left in despair

Hold long the dog-eared page
  The remnant pencil with bitten point
Passages of heroism that no longer cleanse
  You and I in this failing light

Bring me the linen and fine silk thread
  Await to step in the crimson gown
Tunes on the radio acclaim your face
  Hand in hand with the dystopian dead

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Playground Polka


There had been

No explanation

Only incredulity

Naturally I reacted

Shoved that flaccid excuse

Right back at her cold hard indolence
I stood in the door



There was no finely polished floor

For her to drop her proud ass on now

Kicking her protestations

Like the spoiled brat

What now! I said

But the silence went on

A vacuous adagio of wind pipes



Her weeping

Could not have been sweeter

So here she will play

Grinding it out

On that lysoled expanse

Her own concrete

Playground





There it was

Like a sail on the horizon

Getting smaller

Us, it, everything

The door opened and closed

With a loud metallic clang

Let the dancing begin

Monday, August 28, 2017

'the Eccentricities of Sleepwalkers'


Hastened by the daylight
Sanctioned on the essence of amnesia

Warriors of the mind
Cloaked in darkness

Padding unshod
Armed with a comb

Pursuing the minions of evil
From every tissue of the mind

An indestructible construct
Of pure imagination

Slipping in like children
Among the Johns

Pocket picking the circular jerkular
Leaving like whores

Rescuing kittens
Plucking keys from a river

Sailing the ocean
Plank walking Pirates with teary regret

Peacefully ennobled
Saving the ever loving planet

Returning to bed
And the essence of amnesia


Thursday, August 24, 2017

Taste of Victory



Choose your weapon” she said,
And so the pacifist and the activist paced twenty,
Turned and took aim.

But how can I destroy
One who I am obligated to protect?”
The pacifist asked.

Grow a pair!”
The activist replied.
Now take aim.”


"If I win it will be said I am a brute”
He closed his eyes,
Taking aim at the Sun.

If you loose
It will be said you were bested by a girl.”
She said, they fired.

Either way I loose”
He gasped as a dove fell beside him.
Together they lay dying.

Who will care for my vines”
He gasped.
The grapes are my life's work.”

They taste bitter”
She said spitting back at him,

Dove killer!”

Friday, July 7, 2017

Introuvable Tears


When first she awoke
She thought she was dead

Darkness and pain
Had seemed to cease

Inside of a moment
She froze like a stone

None would carry her
Nor welcome her home

Down in her heart
A spider did weave

Even in day
She captured all light

Confined in her sight
She wished for the lake

Smothering the day
Slipping away

Stopping her breath
She cheated the chair

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Love Like an Abacus

How many times do we recall
Counting the days
Since first we met
The years and tears
Adding our lives on loves abacus
Weighing emotions
Erupting eventually
Like a shaken abacus

How many ways did we avoid
Counting the days
Of silent pain
The cold derision
Counting the good
Subtracting the bad
Exploding in the end
Like a broken abacus

Monday, June 12, 2017

Strange Flower




Oh sweet death, herald of silence
Pale defiler of the impassioned breast

Mocking lover's wounds
Like some wild Hearts-ease of minioned souls

Robbing thought and gentle touch,
Sweet scent and final breath

Stay the broken heart like that strange flower
Cold and still, casting pale silent regret




Friday, February 24, 2017

Dance to my Door



When will the lonely path we're on
Entwine with hearts & minds so strong?


Will time implode like hunger pains
Will distance parish all our flames?


So till the heat has been eclipsed
To fantasize with prescient lips

Till heat and wild passions soar
Your dreaming steps dance to my door
 
 ~

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Pale Umbrage



Perceive the air as loving stories
Where we are bound up in our mores
Conceived in moon lit sweet warm nights
Preserved in days of pale gray ice

Cast into the mist of Winters regret
Delirious Summers of denials cool sweat
While warm embraces defer our woes
Cold earth shall clutch our
insentient toes

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

The Widowed Bride


A tremendous act of kindness, by him brought love about
For on a cold and blustery day the passions acted out

A Sunny day shown down that perfect April morn
'Twas damp with chill, on wintry night a tiny lass was born

Her papa was a strapping lad, who never shirked from chore
Upon her mother's aching heart, they sent him off to war

Their hearts were locked in mindless bliss, that Spring upon the heath
Too soon their deed tore all apart, mid silence bound to keep

With sturdy limbs, bright eyes of gray and hair of tousled curl
Much interest in the child turned, who'd fathered such a girl?

The letters came to cheer each day, upon the sheath, no mark
But day by day each soldier's fall, revealed his beating heart

Sublime the day the war had passed and soldiers all came home
But not for those whose caissons rolled, her secret love be known

For in first days with lists at post of lads who marched no more
His name did cut the paper white, with ink her heart it tore

Still letters made it to her eyes a mystery hand had sent
As only one could even know from whence their passage rent

And on a day as fair as most with child by her side
She wed the deaf mute postman, who wooed the widowed bride

Monday, September 5, 2016

Women of Grief and Forbearance

Like a thousand Million stars
Shedding a thousand million tears

Time cannot describe the issuance of pain and joy
That is born of heartfelt woman

Like concealer and confessor
Those who bears and buries

Nurtures and defies
All that is saintly and that which is vain

Comely and confounding
As a thousand million tears

Amid a thousand million prayers
All the joys and all the woes

To bring us light in the morn
And drive dark from the sepulcher

The women of grief
And forbearance

Pushing us on
Holding us close

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Oh Orlando

Oh Orlando,
how could you know,
that your city was too lovely,
for our shattered hearts,
Orlando?

Your gardens were too green,
 
but how could you know,
your castles were too fantastic,
your fountains too bombastic,
for some to share?

Oh Orlando,
how could you know
your warm nights were too majestic,
your lakes too reflective,
to instil love in all?

Oh Orlando,
can you help us to know,
your days of bright light
of glass towers and blue lakes,
are for all to see, to hear, to touch?

Orlando,
how could you know,
your rainbow city
would teach us all
how to heal and love?




suggested music; https://youtu.be/40Y6Luq4GNU

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

White Dragon of Death


Pull back your harsh encounter
Bring not your evil pursed lips into my face
Hold fast that icy breath 
You vast devouring scourge

Today I have turned my back
On your evil continence
Long have I relished the day
Upon which
Your evil
Would cease to pester my quiet foot
My naked face and weary eye

Today I embrace the hot
Pulsing, glaring fire of the tiny universe
Of my great ancestors, and swear
I am still here!
You have not killed me yet!
You bitter wind!
You frozen ground!
You white dragon of death!

Today I shed my outer layers
To lavish all my extremities
In the grand healing rays of Rah!
Sun god!
Giver of life!
Master of all that grows
And brings sweet smells
Of birth and regeneration

Now I shall dig and plant
Build and store
From the bounty of this great planet
And gird my measly existence against 
One more intolerable winter

Damn!

Thursday, February 18, 2016

A thousand yearnings



The snow has found us once again,
Setting down it's ghostly countenance as a silent wayfarer.

Tiny flakes gather on the backs and ears of my nighttime visitors,
Long legs holding trim bellies above deep snow.

A knowing calm hides their distress,
As the night conceals a thousand yearnings, theirs and mine.

Monday, February 8, 2016

'My Serial Lover'

I say she's fat in all the right places
My best fake honesty gets me in trouble every time
She finds it sweet
But then it's too late.

She's buying me drapes and underwear
Telling me what's cute and what's disgusting
Giving me nick names
Naming my plants, my fish, it.

Scented candles show up in strange places
Things begin to disappear, like
Pictures of my friends, my magazines,
Notes with girls phone numbers on them.

Her fav albums shuffle to the top
Cans of designer paint start showing up
A drawer is taken over by toys
I feel like one of them.

New bedding, as it's called, appears
Yogurt now resides in my fridge
The guys stop dropping by, at the scent of
Fake honesty in the clutches of my serial lover

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

old people


Old people

Head like a turnip

Long time you been going
Remember the good times
Tell us where you been
Show us how was done
Back before cars and lights
Fishing with a stick and a string
Help us see where you been
Take out your teeth and grin
You not have to work now...
All tired out creaky and weak
Hear with tiny speakers in your ears
See with tired eyes.

Old People
What do you know now?
Close your eyes, run and jump
Feel your first kiss
First love, first heart break
See the day I was born
Nothing but a pants wetter
Me then, you now
Old and happy as a little kid
Old people
Forget the bad
Close your eyes and fly away
Sing with the angles
We are too young to care today.


Tuesday, October 6, 2015

The All Night, Half-wits, Masquerade Ball

I ain't a gonna wait till late next Fall
I needs my fix by-gosh by-gol
there ain't no reason to delay
So snag yer mask down off the wall
And we-ll git stupid one and all and par-tay
At the all night, half-wit's, masquerade ball

Yo, come on Addie make the call
Give the time to one and all
Were kick'n down on Fester's hay
Say brang your cousins big and small
Go'n have one bawdy full Moon parr-tey
At the all night, half-wit's, masquerade ball

Go plug that coon in the pine tree, tall
An stew 'em up with fixns' y'all
Next bring up barley-hops on dray
A cord of wood to blaze away
We'll sing and dance, howl and prance and parrr-tay
At the all night, half-wit's, masquerade ball

Dig out yer blackest hat and shall
Tuck yer locks up in it all
Brang the fiddler with teeth like clay
He'll lighten foot of stout and tall
A squeeze box player who aims to parrr-tay
At the all night, half-wit's, masquerade ball

Then purdy soon a drunken brawl
Will over take the horde, piss-all
Till stupid drunks we pantin' lay
And mornin' light drives home the owl
Won't be a one who still knows how to parrr-tay
At the all night, half-wit's, masquerade ball

Raw knuckles, sore eyes shut down small
We'll sport about the streets and hall
But none will recollect to say
Just you or who been at the brawl
Cuzz-a be'n masked, at the drunken parrr-tay
Of the all night, half-wit's, masquerade ball

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Creaky Vocal Fry



You may never do landmark inventing,
and who knew that?
But your peeps will notice your meaning,
in no time flat.
You'll always give out the impression,
you're one cool cat.
But they'll all want to just stop and listen,
when you speak that....

Qualityyy Fryyy,
you've got that creaky little,
Qualityyy Fryyy!

There's nothing better for your cool demeanor.
The fashionistas will agree that you-er,
A dynamo with vocal registry-verb.
We're talking

Qualityyy Fryyy,
that creaky tweaky little,
Qualityyy Fryyy!

Around the coffee shop or clubs you dance in,
they'll look around to see if you're Kardashian
But all will simply find that you're in fashion,
inserting,

Qualityyy Fryyy
Flamboyanttt, annoyanttt, so poignanttt.
Every woman and guy, you'll tournmenttt.
Amazed and dazed with your,

 Qualityyyy Creakyyy Vocal Fryyyyy!!

Sunday, May 24, 2015

So Sorry



The last time you held my magical thoughts...
In no mood for what you wanted me to hear.
You made one of those insipid
all encompassing statements you're famous for
With out a second thought, I said so

I am sorry for that

Now as I fidget with the medal, of your pride
A stain of angst sours in my gut, draining me,
pulling my energy from inside out.
There had to be a bit of envy, but now,
It's bronze dull, ribbon faded, meaning lost,

I am so sorry for that

With no more concern than a puppy,
you stood and performed, despite the concerns,
the rumors, the accusations.
We did not, kept our cool, dropped out.
You stood, a prideful grin, ignoring it all.

I am so sorry for that

Dust layers the memories of those times.
Most of the critical elements, forlorn
and with no more grudge than that young puppy
I extend my hand, to lay a dull medal
Where all can see that you stood strong

And I am so sorry

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Melodious Mew


I once knew a cat named Melodious Mew
Her coat she would clean till it shined just like new
Her day was spent sleeping, as much as she could
Yet, nothing would pass her constant review
Especially the dogs in the old neighborhood



Her nemesis the bloodhound was old and sprue
Famous was he for his wandering through,
Her Garden, where he'd deliver his calling card
And so she had named him, Copious Poo
And scorned such deposits in her pristine yard



Sweet little dignified Melodious Mew 
Would wait all day long for Copious Poo
To amble along all rumpled and droopy
A sniffing and drooling contented old fool
Her stealthy position, up high in the fruit tree



Then just as her target began his foul deed
She would drop on his back from where she was treed
And deliver a fright to Copious Poo
He'd dash from her garden with all of God's speed
And return to her nap, would Melodious Mew