Reassess

With naught but time to contemplate
I sit and mull the curse called fate
and wonder why we wear this weight—

don’t sag beneath what’s yet to be
release yourself from gravity
by shedding preconceptions we

are programmed with right from birth
so everyone upon the earth
can find out just how much they’re worth.


HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

Impedance

The path of least resistance
can cause the biggest drag
when slowed by the insistence
of a love that lives to lag
but if you show persistence
when denying peace’s flag
you just may go the distance.

Juked

Remembering that day I zigged and zagged
across the lawn beside our old high school,
my supple lanky frame was brightly flagged,
the teacher said “No tackles, that’s the rule!”
I knew avoiding contact was the key
a subject I had just begun to plumb,
evade another’s touch and I was free
back then it felt so good, but now I’m numb.
Despite my score I quickly sought the bench
and lack of stimulation soon decreased
tactility to quite a large degree,
it’s funny how one wistful thought can wrench
you back to where your true potential ceased—
does independence justify the fee?

Taking a Stab

Beneath a blood-red moon
nocturnal creatures croon
and anyone
that needs the sun
will shudder at the tune.

The solstice coincides
with an orb that shyly hides
but could it be
an omen we
should fear like March’s ides.

Stratagem

Existence is a war
where battles must be gauged
between the big What For
and the cost to see them waged

but through a bested foe
we often come to terms
with the underlying woe
a true campaign confirms.

Conceptual

There’s times you think you’ve scored
but you’re not even near the rim
and the gods that you’ve implored
employ insensate seraphim
so you seek a shining sword
but every blade you draw is dim—
your only plausible reward
is a chance to chase your whim.

Penetration

How deep do you want me to go?
That’s all I need to know
but just beware
there’s things down there
that feed upon your woe,

and dealing with them may be worse
than the curdling kiss of a curse
for lips of ice
at least entice
but terror will never disperse.

Barstool Origins

The Dreamer of youth
and the Cynic of age
were discussing the Truth
like a scholar and sage,

“Perception is all!”
The youngster exclaimed,
“You’re bound to recall
when your vision flamed

with a grandiose plan
based upon your belief
that the purpose of Man
was to banish all grief.”

“Indeed.” Said his friend
with the long silver mane
who would never defend
a statement so plain,

“But I was confused
those long years ago
and far too enthused
to know what I know

today.” then he paused
his gaze turned opaque
a condition that caused
the younger to shake

him with alarm
though he simply smiled
and said with wry charm
“The truth I’ve compiled?

There isn’t a wrong
or acceptable stance,
the rules must belong
to circumstance.”

The youth was amused
but quickly grew cross
“You’ve got me confused,
my wits at a loss!”

he huffily buckled
so fragile and small,
the Cynic just chuckled
he was having a ball,

but seeing himself
he pitied his friend
and said “Let’s shelf
this theme and attend

to matters befitting
great minds such as ours
like comfortable sitting
and drinking for hours!”

Evocator

No one knows how to take me
I guess that’s why I’m still here,
the geniuses flatly forsake me
the fakes are filled with fear,

but I’m not here to bicker
or damn the muddled herds,
I’m just looking for a flicker
of enlightenment through words.

Roses in the Park

Dedicated to John Lennon on the 25th anniversary of his untimely death.

We gathered speechless in the growing dark
remembering the brilliance of his light
and left our rosy sorrow in the park.

As one of four he made a lasting mark
which cruelly found his heart that fateful night;
we listened speechless in the growing dark

and prayed the news report was just a lark,
for who would ever… but no, it was right;
we lost our rosy visions. In that park

so named for berried plains, the truth is stark
that being human should bring great delight,
not speechless mourning in the growing dark;

commemorate the magic of his spark
and offer love to all within your sight.
The scent of rosy tributes in the park

imbue the air with their resigned remark,
imagine his disdain for this sad rite.
We gather speechless in the growing dark,
and leave our rosy visions in the park.

Iconically Ironic

When he saw the release
of his very first song
did he know that the throng
would deify him
as a martyr for peace
on a madman’s whim
no matter how wrong?

Vomitorium

Despite the tales of frantic sweat
there were no orders being met
until they got you out of here
and now the products disappear,
while you declare we’re in your debt?

The argent alms that grace your palms
should be (you’d think) the sweetest balms
for you who truly earned the least
selected first to taste the feast,
just proof of one of my big qualms.

Indulgence

Got no hope?
Smoke some dope
it’s better than a scratchy rope.

Afraid of fear?
Try Everclear
and soon you’re smiling ear to ear.

Too many bills?
They make these pills
that take away those nagging ills,

but just be sure
the stuff is pure
to minimize what we endure.

Fixed

I used to be afraid of pain
and quickly shied away
from cases where I stood to gain
if only I could say

“That really didn’t hurt so much.”
But I refused to drop my crutch.

These days, I’m not averse to ache
despite an ailing form—
the sacrifices left to make
won’t scar beyond the norm,

in fact they tend to keep me strong
enough to fiercely limp along.

Lore

Any local knows
the growing darkness brings
the coming of the crows,

they swirl like ebon snows
while raucous cawing rings;
any local knows

when creeping coldness slows
the blood, they’ll hear those wings.
The coming of the crows

and their gloomy innuendoes
is just one of those things
any local knows,

as certain as the wind that blows
with biting force that stings,
the coming of the crows

means months of frozen woes
till brilliant flora springs.
Any local knows
the coming of the crows.

Hopeless?

That tattered cape
you try to drape
about your slumping frame
just doesn’t fit
so you should quit
and save yourself some shame
this world in need
will never cede
the role of hero born—
they can’t applaud
for someone flawed
by weakness to their scorn.

Subjugated

The sun was burning hot and bright
the moon was lurking, ghostly white
but as the daylight slowly waned
the silver luster that it gained
made it bold with borrowed might,
a phase that couldn’t be sustained.

When regal robes of star-flecked night
are draped around the gods in flight
whose bodies have forever reigned
we try to seek the clues contained
but seldom get the angle right,
our confidence completely feigned.

Across a quickly clouding sky
the ebony marauders fly
and if one finds a juicy scrap
there’s bound to be a raucous flap
despite how hard we all may try
to flee this convoluted trap.

Callous

Apparently your thickened skin
prevents your heart from feeling
the waves of unabashed chagrin
your hurtful words are dealing.

Secret Woods

Will there always be forests to roam
for little ones far from their home,
a place where the whispering trees
invite them to rest on the loam

or just do whatever they please
away from parental decrees
that choke the inquisitive sort
with ‘Do As I Say’ disease,

that rotten, self-righteous retort
concluded by ‘OK Sport?’
To heck with that stuff man,
they’ll build an impregnable fort

who needs a stupid plan?
They’ll just do the best they can,
content to keep their secrets deep
in every wooded span.

Unstrung

I cut the strings so long ago
they never had a chance
to script my role within their show
or make me crudely dance

and now I’m sulking in the wings
extraneous at best
who knew you had to have those strings
to be among the blest

I know their truth is just illusion
manufacturing confusion
so no one sees the glaring lack of joy

a product of the pedagogy
that makes true volition foggy
when will I become a real boy?

We Are Stardust

Venus was so scintillating
her radiance beyond debating
I cursed my craven hesitating
and cried aloud, “My Love!”

At once She started coruscating
with brilliance that was captivating
my pulse acutely palpitating
just like a startled dove,

abruptly I was levitating
my earthly cares evaporating
and soon I was cohabitating
with my brethren up above.

Review

Hello all,

I have been taking a few days off as I am feeling a little negative lately and don’t want to write with all that angst in my blood. Work is better in so many ways due to a team effort, but only certain people have seen any reward (I guess they’re the only ones with bills to pay). I realized a long time ago that I’m not enough of a sycophant or a liar to get a decent salary in this or any company, and I have no degree either so, are you starting to sense the frustration?

But then I received some great news that I was in the final eight for a John Lennon Poetry Contest sponsored by The Beatles Story, and I was ecstatic to a degree. I haven’t sent anything out in a while because I was picked second in the Poetic Genius Society’s last contest, then I got a bunch of rejections in a row with letters saying “You were on the short list.” This just said to me that my stuff was good, but not good enough. So I take a chance and send my poem in and what do you think happened? Yes, I came in second, and to top it all off they misspelled my name as Haselton on the web site.

Sooooo anyways, I received an email last week from a Luke Armstrong that is generous enough to follow my blog, and he asked me to check out his book and give it a review if I wished to. Normally I shy away from such endeavors because I feel it will expose how truly ignorant I am, but since my writing is only serving to irritate me at the moment, I figured I’d give it a shot. Luke is currently in Guatemala and in his own words—

I live and work in Antigua, Guatemala. Here I am the director of an educational development organization called Nuestros Ahijados. Through schools, clinics, sustainable micro-financing programs, social work, anti-human trafficking efforts, and other programs; we work to "break the chains of poverty through education and formation" for our 12,000 dependents.

As a writer my poetry, fiction and non-fiction has been published in scores of magazines including, Outside, Perspective Travel, Foliate Oak, Long Story Short, The Sheltered Poet, Intrepid Travel, and CNN Traveler, among others. My just finished novel, How One Guitar Will Save The World, will soon be looking for an agent. I am a contributing editor for TheExpeditioner.com. This fall our book, The Expeditioner's Guide to the World will be released. My first book of poetry iPoems for the Dolphins to Click Home About, was published March of this year.

Well Luke, all I can say is that I loved your book and would have bought one had you not been kind enough to send me a copy. Luke’s style is very edgy and irreverent at times, which I really enjoy, and his use of words is spectacular. He uses many poetic tools adeptly, and really has a great sense of humor. The name of the book is iPoems for the Dolphins to Click Home About, and you can buy it at Amazon right now.

I would like to close by thanking everyone and anyone (except spammers) that has left a comment here over the 5 years I’ve been blogging, hopefully I’ll have something in print soon.

Remedy

I’ve pondered the arrangement
that led to our estrangement
and realize it’s mostly my own fault

an addict is an addict
and they’ll always choose their habit
over any type of meaningful gestalt;

without a solid answer
regret can be a cancer
that eats away our willingness to live

but constant flagellation
can’t change the situation
it’s much more therapeutic to forgive.

Flipped

We take our lumps without a yelp
until the day we go berserk
and start new lives – like that’ll help –
we couldn’t make the first ones work.

Someday

Someday
what I say
will seem okay
in some strange way

until then
I’ll just pen
about my yen
and wonder when.

Receptivity

A good life isn’t time to mull
or victories to boast
it’s moments when your heart is full
that truly matter most:

a warm embrace can help erase
the cold and clingy doubt
which seems to ever haunt our race
regardless how devout,

your offer of a gentle word
can easily assuage
ignoble inclinations stirred
by pride’s improper rage,

and sometimes silence serves the best
when tension slowly mounts
or even an impromptu jest—
it’s being there that counts!

There’s just one thing for me to say
before this ship departs
each day we all should find a way
for love to fill our hearts.

Unveil

How quickly seasons seems to change these days
the muted earthen colors so subdued
much like my current introspective mood
the curse of a mercurial malaise
that started when I first began to see
this constant darkness permeating life,
contributing to all the futile strife
which somehow always interrupts our glee;
and with a gust of wind the leaves are gone
the canvas once again unblemished white
awaiting the creative touch of Spring,
that fertile clime from which our dreams are drawn
to counteract the imminence of night
with artistry that makes the angels sing.

Clod

He knew he had a rose inside
that struggled to be free
but all the salty tears he cried
reduced fertility

and though at times the sun would shine
to help it grow a bit
the constant clouds made him resign
with naught to show for it

which stirs the anger in his blood
convincing him he’s doomed
to being just another bud
that never truly bloomed.

Spread

Ignorance smears like butter
smooth and full of fat
maxims the mindless mutter
pollute with every pat

and it doesn’t seem to matter
to anyone in the least
that heaps upon their platter
a great unfounded feast.

Static

The corporate suck-fest drains
anticipated gains
what little fight remains

my stasis nears its end
the garbled lies they send
impossible to defend.

Overcast

Cirrus aren’t too serious
but cumulus accumulate
with mists that make mysterious
inequities that inundate.

Delivery

Sixty nine days without sun
or open expanses to run
the dust that they breathed
while fearfulness seethed
reminded them soon they’d be done.

Sixty nine days beneath sod
that once they so carelessly trod
no bones to exhume
just babes from the womb
reborn through the graces of God.

Suspended

At times it’s worth the nails
if common sense prevails
but never get too cross
when hammered by the boss.

Consecration

The sandstorm viciously slashed
with every choking whirl
just like a howling rabid beast unchained,
the air around the Dark One flashed
and he took the startled girl
to a nearby cave that he secretly maintained.

She faced him as a lioness
content to slowly pace
until she had a chance to flee this cage
he masked his own uneasiness
when staring at her face
the desert seemed much cooler than her rage.

“You know my party will look for me.”
she said, her voice on edge
“So you might as well prepare yourself to die.”
He dodged her gaze quite handily
by climbing to a ledge
where he had a hidden hole from which to spy.

He saw no active pursuit
the storm was too intense
and had to use this time to make her see,
he looked at her, resolute
then kneeled and uttered “Hence
your loyal servant is all I wish to be.”


***Well I finally got around to part 4 of my desert saga. Sorry it's so long between installments but if there's one thing I've learned about writing these serial poems it's that you have to be in the right frame of mind for the story to keep flowing. Here is a link to Part 3 which has links to parts 1 and 2 at the bottom, enjoy.***

Fasting

Like hogs at the trough
we’re slaves to our sloth
inhaling inedible slop
such good little swine
we idle in line
while corporate clowns cleverly chop
just steer yourself clear till they stop.

Mortality

The thistle changed to stately brown
devoid of diamonds in its crown
while flanking sumacs flushed bright red
anticipating winter’s dread.

Where We Are Bound

We’re born without fetters
until we comply
with society’s lie
that people have betters

if we can just nurture
a new way to be
that’s prejudice free
oh, what a future.

Vultures

What hatches as a noble cause
can terrorize the plain
when over-zealous beak and claws
are used for selfish gain.

Piece

I was resting for a minute between shows
and hoping that this theater won’t close
for every new admission
makes me relish my decision
to make this life a reason to compose

so if you can’t be happy don’t be sad
and thank The Lord for ills you’ve never had
you can’t approach creation
in a state of indignation
for you’ll only wind up sounding slightly mad.

I’ll wait to feel the scrutiny once more
reprising all the roles I’ve played before
and though I’m quite uncertain
when they’ll finally drop the curtain
I hope someday to find the part that I’ve been looking for.

Movers & Shakers

A vagabond seeks virtue in the verity of vice
a millionaire makes money through the management of mice
a politician preys upon the people’s apathy
while music-makers mollify the masses mystically.

Ignition

If you keep the shutters closed
there’s no one else to blame
when others less composed
are fondling their fame
you shouldn’t be opposed
to entering the game
a wick must be exposed
for a candle to take flame.

Rakish

The leaves will fall
just like the tall
congenial types
that promise all
but always stall
while taking swipes
at those with gall
enough to call
for cleaner pipes.

Then snow will drop
just like the crop
of worthless tares
but it won’t stop
as spinners shop
for one whose stares
will help them hop
right to the top
where no one cares.

Instant Karma

Bubblegum is something I habitually chew
until it turns into a stringy blob of tasteless goo
then thoughtlessly I spit it out the window pa-too
and now I’m stuck with some else’s gobbed upon my shoe.

Sleeper

Don’t waste it on a tomb
where lost ambitions loom
it’s Summer’s final bloom

whose bittersweet perfume
should decorate a room,
don’t waste it on a tomb

an undeserved doom,
for nothing can illume
like Summer’s final bloom.

The coldness will consume
that fleeting floral boom
don’t waste it on a tomb

or angrily assume
the wonder of the womb
is Summer’s final bloom.

Deny December’s gloom
don’t waste it on a tomb
or hastily presume
it’s Summer’s final bloom.

Going to Bed Hungry

Last night I went to bed
with a poem in my head
and now it seems I cannot rest
until my muse is fed

so I’ll have a cup of brew
and see what I can do
concocting something to digest
whilst I begin to chew.

Abide

You’re my purpose and my passion 

and the future we can fashion 

will shame the greatest dynasties 

if we live by Love’s decrees.

Immediacy

In a flash I knew I loved you
and we started our affair
I was always thinking of you
with your long soft raven hair
and each day I’ve tried to show you
just how much I really care
because in a flash it could all be through
leaving nothing but despair.

Retouched

Assailed by autumn bluster
we joined the growing cluster
impatient to ride horses
that had long since lost their luster

to elemental forces
as smells from many sources
compelled our guts to clamor
for a taste of sinful courses.

What happened to the glamour
that made your heartbeat hammer
with such a giddy feeling
it could make a poet stammer?

The faded paint is peeling
each curly shred revealing
the looping ever after
that was once so damn appealing

but then I hear his laughter
refurbish every rafter
and suddenly the wonder
redefines a drab hereafter.

Subdued

I won’t forsake me
to join any club
I’ve labored to be
no, it’s not a snub

I’ll never disrupt
the almighty We
that tries to corrupt
the fatally free.

I won’t forsake me
so move right along
your chorus of glee
overpowers my song.

Chrysalis

Silk is softly soothing
and can easily dispel
the wrinkles that need smoothing
from the ever-pressing swell—

you mustn’t leave too soon
for you could shrivel up and die
but stay in that cocoon
and you’ll never learn to fly.

Getting Through

All the rules you thought you learned
are based on spans that can’t be burned
but once you join the wretched ranks
their pyrotechnics roast your planks
until you stand succinctly spurned
marooned upon eroding banks

and whether you use steel or stone
you can’t rebuild what you don’t own
so just get used to where you are
and never let encroachment mar
the inner path you walk alone
for it can take you oh so far.

Currency

Still waters run deep
or so people say
the trick is to keep
stagnation at bay
in order to reap
what fathoms can pay.

Extra

Is selfish the same as self centered
can a doorway be closed once it’s entered
is chaos the key to conformance
will truth undermine the performance?

The planks that we’re all forced to ply
may help a seasoned star enthrall
but mummers fade before the eye
of those behind the lucent wall,
directed to a quick demise
unless they learn to improvise.

Backfire

The bed is barren
the banks austere
no thirsty Terran
finds succor here
devoid of dew at dawn and dusk
the weary world a withered husk.

We gather for
the sacrifice
to try once more
and pay the price
our angry gods have yet to heed
disgusted by our brutal breed—

we squandered all
to try and slake
our lusty gall
convinced we’d make
a planet purged of petty strife
instead of this barbaric life.

Infliction

I fondly think of her
and how she makes desire stir
with one strategic stab
existence seems a bit less drab
she gets beneath my skin
transforming grimace into grin
and grinds between my bones
eliciting exquisite moans
with sharp intensity
she radiates through all of me
the fierce imperative
to grasp each day and truly live!

Speak Louder

Contentment isn’t something you can simply wish to be
though chosen words can mask its errant seed
and such is the predicament that plagues humanity
we’ve learned to disregard each others need

by spouting milquetoast maxims that don’t mean a goddamned thing
while smiling because we think we’ve tried
oblivious to how a rote response can sorely sting
instead of warmly holding those who’ve cried.

Possible Scam Alert

I received a strange but official sounding email the other day, the body of which is right here:

During the month of July, the International Blogging Recognition Council (IBRC) had the pleasure of reviewing your blog Average Poet. Your blog was referred to IBRC through our Refer-A-Blog program. "Tailoring" was the topic that the Council reviewed. Based on the review, the Council has recommended that your blog receive IBRC’s designation of “Recognized Blog”. IBRC reserves this honor to those blogs that effectively connects with the audience and promotes the sharing of ideas and experiences.

We invite you to visit our website at www.ibrcblog.org to learn more about IBRC and our “Recognized Blog” award. Congratulations on your accomplishment.

Sarah L. Tolten
Review Committee Chair
International Blogging Recognition Council


I never heard of the IBRC but was excited until I checked their site and realized they were asking for $45.00 to receive this recognition. I didn't bite and since then have found this article which raises many questions. I sent an alert to Rob at PU but have received no reply so just letting the few that read this blog know, be careful.

Knuckles Down?

There are those that know a lot of facts from books
and those that learned to deal from honest crooks
but the one that you should trust to make you dough
has the touch to knead ingredients just so.

Pillar

I know you believe you understand what you think I said
But
I’m not sure you realize what you heard is not what I meant.

~Robert Grant~

It’s quite unclear what makes a man
that others follow if they can
what circumstance or hidden trait
endows him with that certain gait
which clearly speaks to anyone
intent on getting something done
they absolutely can’t afford
to not have this one strut on board.

Smoked

Promethean pretenses prance upon a plainly plebeian page too delineated to deftly dance or awaken an atomic age irradiated beyond repair by fallout from the flame affair.

Yellow

The jaundiced shade

cold lemonade

or a buttercup bestudded glade,

a daffodil,

canaries *trill*

the morning sun that breaks yon hill,

a bumblebee

and soon you’ll see

the streak where my spine used to be.

Here are some other colors I've explored:

Blue Green Red Orange

Test

I set the bait
and drop a line
then calmly wait
for any sign

that there’s a bite
upon my hook
and then I fight
to drain that brook

of all the fish
within the hole
that have a wish
to taste my soul.

Visionary

The oath he swore
couldn’t help him save
the pupils of war
so they dug his grave,

how many more
must be consigned
to dying for
the truly blind?

No Crock

Every minute that we live
is sixty chances to forgive
but if we choose to sit and stew
a leery lifetime turns to two.

Turnabout

I think of all I could have been
then look at what I am
remembering with sorrow when
I didn’t give a damn

so many people tried to help
though I just turned away
a cocky unrepentant whelp
determined not to pay,

and now I turn my pockets out
divulging all my shares
but like the me that used to pout
nobody really cares.

1000 Posts

The moon is as high as high can be
reflecting the sun half-heartedly
while every choking gutter overflows
with the brown remains of spring’s last throes

a bilge releases brackish ooze
that stains the deeply rutted road,
it slithers like an irritated snake
as Slowhand amplifies the blues
I come back for another load
of clutter from an old abode,
my deadened foot discreetly on the brake.

Perusing yellowed pages of the past
compels one question – did it go that fast?
The spine corroded
when faith eroded,
for how can friendly winds prevail
to fill a limp and lifeless sail
that isn’t even fastened to the mast?

~THUNK~
another post goes deep
to shield this outlook that I keep.

We’re here for the doing
so get the job done
refrain from your ruing
those races that you failed to run
and fleeting moments in the sun

reflected by the moon, still rather high
and feeling, for the moment, keenly shy
it ducked behind some clouds that scuttled by
while I repeated – “Why beloved, why?”

Our independence day
relied on the establishment
of reasons for abandonment
to help ignite the fray

the corporation stands to profit
when we decide to deftly doff it
though interwoven with the weft
is doubt that loomed in those bereft
of leisure
or pleasure
or any decent chance at all
of finding buried treasure.

We fraternize beside the pool
such restful relaxation
made possible by chlorination
isn’t murder a handy tool?

The nectar from the sweetest fruit
can’t quench a thirsty point that’s moot
but still we seek that fabled draft
with all our crude attempts at craft,
the frantic fumbles of a green recruit.

~THUNK~
another post impales
the earth from which this body hails.

We’re here for the doing
so get the job done
refrain from renewing
your doubt in the gun
when it comes to bullets
it only takes one.

The ghostly moon is paler still
from starting to come down
its pock-marked face looks deathly ill
with such a stony frown.

An abundance of redundancy
makes creativity arcane
indeed, almost profane
like shadowy cave paintings
made from some forgotten stain
that lingers in your brain.

The something we wish to become
will become only when we’re a sum
our destiny won’t be decided
while the world is so clearly divided
we strove for a land void of class
a status we more than surpass
unable to garner comfort from
the time we foolishly bided
when evil was still coiled in the grass.

~THUNK~
another post and still
I need some more to ring this hill.

We’re here for the doing
so get the job done
and stop misconstruing
the words of The Son

for the night will continue
relieving the day
while the moon, looking brand new
comes anxious to play.

The sultry air of summer
clings just like a lover
that wants to crawl inside your very skin
enjoy it while it lingers
for soon your crooked fingers
will wrap a tattered scarf around your chin.

The matriarch
whose fragile spark
endowed the courage to embark
could not foresee
the agony
of eremitic artistry.

~THUNK~
the thousandth post and nowhere near
the palisade I pictured here
perhaps it’s time to engineer
a bridge.

Muffled

When he was young
he had so much to say
then life lashed his tongue
in it’s sobering way
until the cord began to fray

releasing his thought
from the numbing routine
whose fibers are fraught
with fragments of spleen
he lost to the machine

so all he can speak
is the jargon of fear
and his sentiments squeak
like the whiniest gear
that people seldom choose to hear.

Washout

The swollen river limped along
while I just sat there helpless
without a crutch or river song
to even out its cadence

it passed me by quite sluggishly
intent on keeping current
and stayed its course pugnaciously
despite this dumb deterrent.

Nirvana

I make my way upriver to that green and holy place
then sit atop the hill so I can think
the sun and wind take turns caressing my contented face
and I truly feel I stand at heaven’s brink.

So many thoughts assail my mind, much like a manic mob
and all they do is clamor to get out,
‘We only want to be expressed’ I hear one of them sob
“Well first you have to go through me!” I shout.

My head is crowned with careless clouds, my roots embrace the earth
my soul is soothed by nature’s splendid bliss
I don’t know if there’s an afterlife, or a ritual rebirth
but if there is, I hope it’s just like this.

Relative

The bulk of the strife
beneath which I smother
was caused by another
I’ve met in this life

if it wasn’t for others
our lives would be calm
with just one qualm—
no sisters or brothers.

Tailoring

The blinds are old
and gravity warps
the slats into a slanted grin,
the night is colder
than a corpse
while pallid moonlight filters in
like gossamer for you to spin

into a yarn
that’s dark yet shines
with iridescent hints
of when to darn
your worn designs
and when to dab with vibrant tints
those dreary unattractive prints.

Debatable

If everything's the same
as some folk would claim
well that would make living lackluster and lame

but we’ve all been designed
to express our own mind
and I hope everybody is thusly inclined.

Reflecting

It’s just another rock we pass
in flight around this ball of gas
but when the Sun’s prodigious light
hits our distant neighbor right
a regal glow transforms the sky
and etches dreams upon the eye
of any that are sensitive
to understanding why we live
and how we can extend this race
beyond the realms of time and space.

Estuary

I landed by the murky river for a spell
beside the other bleached and barkless dogs
that lay about like scattered Linkin Logs
some peevish giant hand had sent pell-mell,
and though I try, I can’t dispel

this current deep inside that pulls me down
to scuttle on the bottom as a crab
who doesn’t care if things are cold and drab
for that just makes it easier to drown
within the tributary frown

that leaves alluvial soil flecked with gilt
adjacent to the harshly pounding sea
which swallows solid ground methodically
along with any levees that are built
until there’s nothing left but sordid silt.

Majesty

The thistle stood as tall as me
their spiny crowns so sparkly
from drops of morning dew that shone
like diamonds in creation’s throne.

Trim

Our longest dreams don’t oft ensue
for life is a strange impulsive quest
but we find a way to muddle through.

We start, so certain North is true
until the distant stars suggest
our longest dreams don’t oft ensue

then we wander for a year or two
in hopes that even God can jest
but we find a way to muddle through

and set a course completely new
determined thunder in our breast.
Our longest dreams don’t oft ensue

the winds can change (as they will do)
but still we tack our very best
and find a way to muddle through.

As Captain of a one man crew
it’s up to us to lay to rest
those longer dreams that won’t ensue
so we can somehow muddle through.

Charity

I keep a jar of sweets
upon the shelf above my desk
a trove of fruity treats
for each and every passing guest

especially that dude that scrubs
the head but never cleans his paws
he stuffs his grimy stubs
within while gorge inside me claws

it’s way right up my throat,
so smiling I say “Have a ball!”
he empties it but stops to note
that I’m the nicest guy of all.

Fathoms

We cast our nets whose strands are made
from eldritch energies
to help ensnare the orbs of jade
with mystic imageries
derived from observations of
the vast chaotic seas
where we are tossed on swells of love
and deep extremities.


***Well it was an extremely productive weekend. At a book sale I found:
1) A paperback copy of Arthur Rimbaud's 'Illuminations'
2) A hardcover copy of Carl Sandburg's 'Honey and Salt'
3) A paperback copy of Chaucer's 'Canterbury Tales'
4) A play by Dylan Thomas
5) A collection of 20 essays (by some famous writers) for the aspiring writer
6) A copy of a Greek Mythology reference guide
7) A hardcover copy of Thomas Wolfe's 'Of Time and The River'

and it is from this last tome that I would like to share a remarkable excerpt which spoke to me in a voice I needed to hear right now, and which inspired this latest poem-

"At that instant he saw, in one blaze of light, an image of unutterable conviction, the reason why the artist works and lives and has his being--the reward he seeks--the only reward he really cares about, without which there is nothing. It is to snare the spirits of mankind in nets of magic, to make his life prevail through his creation, to wreak the vision of his life, the rude and painful substance of his own experience, into the congruence of blazing and enchanted images that are themselves the core of life, the essential pattern whence all other things proceed, the kernel of eternity."

need I say more?***

Afflicted

I have a certain way with words
or so some people say
‘but poetry is for the birds’
the thought they don’t relay

but I must keep on penning it
for it’s a damned disease
that won’t allow the ill to quit
until their last dry wheeze.

A Somber Summer Day

A somber summer day?
Beware of such a thing
when angry clouds turn gray
and heaven’s teardrops sting.

The host will cry for having seen
a somber summer day
our planet is alive and green
unlike the ashen clay

condemned to never feel a ray
of golden sun again.
A somber summer day
is a dark occasion when

we face the cold abyss
and feverishly pray
that all six souls are granted bliss
this somber summer day.

Subordinate?

An introvert
will not pervert
the truth to get attention
but those that lie
to catch your eye
should cause you apprehension.

Here Comes the Sun

Nuclear fusion
is not an illusion
just gaze into the blazing sun
to clear up your confusion

if we can conceive it
I’m sure that we’ll achieve it
to actually harness a living star
who would ever believe it?

Exposé

You dug and dug and really dug
until the dirt was to your liking
now you stand supremely smug
because you know the price is hiking

but it’s for the brave, not the brash
that fortune saves the biggest stash
beware your dreams of easy cash
as things can alter in a flash!

Ask Away

Deep within the breast of each question
there lies the soul of a child
fresh and eager to learn
wide-eyed
and uncertain
about the prospect of change
but above all,
radiating the ability to adapt.


***Sorry I actually had a few days off and spent most of it outside. I hope everyone had a great holiday here in America and to others around the world I send good wishes. This poem was posted for a prompt on a new site I was lucky enough to be invited into. I hope it blossoms into a true community for writers of poetry. You can click on the link (in Cybernian Hotspots) called Poetry Blog Roll. It's run by a cool guy named Robb whose blog Burdens and Smiles is also linked to the right. I'm sure I will be adding more so keep checking. Thanks Robb and keep it up!***

Skewers

The quantum mechanics of Why
is a theorem that none can supply
for humans have yet to command
the knowledge of something so grand
with data that isn’t a lie.

11 Summers

Could eleven summers ever be
enough to taste and touch and see
all the wondrous elements
that fashion this reality?

As innocence is laid to rest
will your conscience now attest
that hedonistic selfishness
helped the hand of death to wrest

one sprightly spark before it’s due,
causing you to surely rue
the budding flowers every spring
that signal summer will ensue.


*Dedicated to all the unfortunate victims of drunk drivers*

Reform

I saw something thrive in cement
it was quite a reinforcing event;
akin to a rose
with it’s own lovely scent
it proved there’s a flaw
in this unbending gent
providing enough of a dent
to find if life is meant
to sparkle, or be spent
(though it seems there’s nothing it can’t circumvent).

Recondition

You can hear the great behemoth’s labored breathing to the east
and it shouldn’t be that long before we overhaul the beast
to stop it’s oily breath from clogging up the sooty skies
along with that vociferous breed that poisons as it flies.

Labor of Love

I took a slab of lifeless stone
stood with chisel held in hand
thought about my life alone
and let my heart take command.
This hammer clangs, as I perspire,
with ringing echoes of desire.

As the outline slowly forms
unworthy fingers gently caress
the fractured rock until it warms,
ardently trying to express
my less than sane expectation
to somehow grant it animation.

Halfway done when suddenly
she seems to be a bit more real,
I know it’s just a fantasy
yet sometimes I could swear I feel
dark orbs intently watching me,
pleading for a chance to be.

Bathed in Luna’s silver glow
I pause to take a needed rest,
all rules of nature I forego
and scream out loud a bold request,
“Please grant life to my creation!”
then, I feel a strange sensation.

Her smooth midriff starts to shimmer,
pulling back to form a hole,
within me I feel something glimmer
and I know it is my soul,
half of which I freely give
so that my dream can finally live.

Lying face first on the floor
I wake up a bit diminished,
obsidian eyes calmly implore
and I can’t halt until I’ve finished
my labor of love, she must be freed—
never scorn the power of need.

Sweetness

She offered me a brisket
I figured that I’d risk it
until she started eyeing me as though I were a biscuit
which wasn’t very funny
so I handed her my money
and left before she plied me with some plumper plops of honey.

Choke

Complication compilation
indignation, indigestion
regurgitation, resignation
aspiration aspiration.

Cause

Poetry is like a pill
that keeps my nervous neurons still
and helps to elevate my mood
with every therapeutic thrill,

it keeps me strong like healthy food
that makes me grow the more it’s chewed—
I rub my hands and smack my lips
for hunger shouldn’t be eschewed.

Like honeyed wine that sweetly drips
I quaff the eloquence of quips
whose heady essence makes me think,
inviting long exquisite sips;

it’s captured in the colored ink
my thirsty skin was quick to drink
and when I’m saddled with chagrin
it always makes me smile and wink.

Yes poetry is everything
to me you see, and so much more
at times it seems the only thing
in this life worth living for.

Pane Relief

The plywood panes are finally gone
I’m starting to feel less withdrawn
and learning how to cope as I get older;
I’ve had some cause to be depressed
but today I felt completely blessed
when he whispered “Papa”
with his head upon my shoulder.

Reception

To pests that make my patience wilt
I muster my most gracious lilt
and jerks that make my joy disperse
will seldom hear my muttered curse,
for static from the sullen sort
is never able to distort
the view that somewhere deep inside
we all have angels that reside.

Perplexity

If you can’t have light without the dark
why choose the pit above the spark
as many seem to do today;
has evil truly left its mark

upon our slowly crumbling breed
eroded by torrential greed,
or have we simply lost our way
misguided by neurotic need?

We plod along beneath the pall
that permeates each slice of sprawl
but those that prey on those that pray
become the most confused of all.

That Stinks!

I’m mortified
my homeward ride
collided with a creature
it’s head and tail
were very pale
but the most apparent feature
when soundly hit
it’s kind emit
an overpowering odor
how odious
it is for us
to maim so we can motor.

O Men

She squandered her contentment
on a boy with golden hair
and eyes so blue
they made her do
some things she shouldn’t dare,

but then she felt resentment
from her family and friends,
they asked her why
and her reply—
“A lonely heart pretends.”

And such was her presentment
that they all began to bawl
as everyone
had now begun
preparing for the fall.

Galvanized

There’s got to be a better way
for me to positively slay
this less than entertaining lapse
that now confounds each stalled synapse

but I’m in such a static state
I simply sit and vegetate
restrained by steely locks of gray
that signify my slow decay

when suddenly a blazing bolt
of insight gives me such a jolt
it flings me from this creaky chair
to go and flavor life with flair.

It’s meaningless to wrangle rot
be happy for what time you’ve got
and face each moment fearlessly
with naught but hope for what may be.

Mice & Men

Existence now fits on a stick
accessible with just a click
our world is run by rodents who
can ferret out the facts you rue
the question is – just who or what
will analyze this data glut
and if they have a skipping stone
or one designed to keenly hone.


ozymandiaz said...

the data, sir, i dare to say
has been analyzed in every way
though not in manner to find truth
but as method to show proof
so simple folks with simple minds
will buy the poison so sublime.

Venture

A lot of people tend to shrink
away from what I put in ink
because it really hurts to think

about the truth we seldom face
that we’re all part of one sad race
condemned to fall just short of grace,

our evanescence nurtures greed
on which self righteous vermin feed
why can’t we germinate the seed

of sacrifice for ages hence
without the need for recompense,
as love should never gauge expense.

Occupation

We seek a trade to supplement our means
but seldom find contentment in a chore,
to grunt and sweat for money like a whore
can make one sore, and thoroughly demeans
a people’s pride, like prisoners of war,
our island nations hurt by death machines
coercing us to help them make more beans
so they don’t have to mingle with the poor.
Behind the concertina we commune
our furtive whispers tricky to discern
though truly, they don’t care what we might say
their condescension makes them quite immune
and tragically, the only way they’ll learn
is when we have our liberation day.

Indistinctive

As plumage pales
the finer details
are slowly becoming less clear,
ignoring each hint
I grimace and squint
rejecting all ocular gear,

and as it gets worse
I struggle with verse
that once made me inwardly stir,
which leads me to fear
that I’ll disappear
like everything else in the blur.

Special

The recipe for irony:
a misanthropic chef-to-be
condemned to serving those whom he
would rather never even see.

Devalued

I’m not privy
to how you divvy
the profits we peasants produce for you
I’m much too busy
and often dizzy
performing for one more cent or two.

Immaterial

How much is enough
can you answer me this,
does a mountain of stuff
bring limitless bliss?

Or is the weight such
it’s not worth the cost
for having too much
means more to be lost.

A miser will pinch
a penny in two
and give you an inch
when miles are due

but never refuse
a beggar’s request
if you buy one new shoes
in heaven you’ll rest.

The rich will acquire
the most of us all
then into the fire
they’ll rapidly fall

consumed by the flame
of implacable greed
while the wretched and lame
are eternally freed.

Memorial Day at The Shrine

I traveled to that private place
a shrine upon a hill
where often I’ve come face to face
with His unbending will,

I brought along my share of ash
to seek out someplace blessed
so she that left us in a flash
could have her rightful rest

among the blooms and butterflies
beside a noble tree
where she would utter wistful sighs
were she alive to see—

a hallowed spot for one
who was so constant with her love
despite a distant son
in search of symbols from above.

Pitch

If solitude is solid proof
of wanting to remain aloof
the silence of a former friend
will simply amplify the trend
of sag in a disheveled roof
until it topples in the end,

and no amount of ebon goo
will ever make the angle true
nor cover any leaky spot
enough to stop the rancid rot
that sadly must ensue
when lonely a lot.

Partly Sunny

The sunlight sifted through the clouds to sprinkle on the land
prismatic streamers sparkling with brilliance that was grand,
a truly epic gala which enabled me to see
that I should muse more often just how splendid life can be.

Marginal

Mass production
class construction
drastic suction
crass destruction.

Spring

The first day of equal measure
dawdled as it stormed
the musky smell of life upon the air,
the presence of our burning pleasure
warmed as buds were formed
and mother birds were building nests with care.

I was drawn to part the curtain
and watch the raindrops fall
that bring the blooms alluring to the bee,
it all seems so uncertain
but the hardest thing of all
is nurturing new growth inside of me.

Coping

He was heard to mutter
as he waded through the clutter
“I know I didn’t stutter,
BRING ME BREAD AND BUTTER!”

The kitchen staff was chided
so then they all decided
his will must be abided
and they rapidly divided

up a loaf and started smearing
for he was quickly nearing
and he hadn’t stopped his sneering
since the loss of his endearing

wife, with locks so curly
whose perfect teeth were pearly
her end came much too early
which made him downright surly.

But the oddest thing he started
since she had departed
to leave him broken hearted
was having rubbish carted

and piled in his dwelling
until the walls were swelling
which didn’t stop his yelling
his grief was so compelling.

One day without much warning
they found him in the morning
his bony corpse adorning
the mess that was his mourning—

the help, no longer harried
prepared the grave and carried
him gently to be buried
beside the one he married.

Fossils

We dig and scrape and blast and drill with no regard for what we kill and if we keep this breakneck pace it won’t take long to end the race.

Priorities

The older we get
the more pious we are
so filled with regret
that our knees tend to scar

from all of the pleas
we’re prone to extend
in hopes they will ease
our debt at the end

but arms should display
the ultimate wear
from showing each day
how much we can care.

Assess

Poised for success
or simply a mess
I couldn't care less
hazard a guess?

Grrrrrrrr

The dog drags the bread
underneath the bed
and chews it in the dead
of night

I’m roused by the sound
and toss till I’ve found
a way to get around
this plight

I’ll never bring back
another cold snack
for him to attack
and bite

unless he gets mean
from being too lean
he’s got quite a keen
appetite.

Naked

A psychic kiss
such heady bliss
could anything be as sweet as this:
two minds that merge,
two hearts that surge
with passion, the unbridled urge.

Butt

I know it’s a trivial nit
but I like when my pants really fit
for I don’t feel composed
when my ass is exposed
and my cracks aren’t the kind showing wit.

Hallmark

You made it through hell
soon I will too
why bother to dwell
on what we went through
although every cell
is bursting with rue
I shower you with utmost praise
and thanks for your supportive ways.

I’ll see you again
I know that it’s true
I’m not sure just when
but boy when I do
I’ll forfeit this pen
and grab hold of you
with all the strength that I can raise
the first of many such displays.

Cheap Whine

If remembered at all will it be for a line
for the depth of design
or for being the tartest grape
that ever dangled on the vine?

Rethink

“You think too much”
I’ve oft been told
“You’re wasting precious time!”
“You think too much!”
The blind would scold
as though it were a crime.

“You think too much”
I’d often hear
when searching for that word
“You talk too much.”
I’d crisply sneer
although they never heard.

And in the end
when I look back
at all the things I wrought
will I defend
the glaring lack
as much less than I thought?

Yield

The clay from which spring stems
is an earthy kind of soil
that nourishes the vibrant gems
whose heady scents we prize
enough to trade some toil
ensuring they will rise

but even if all gardens fail
to garner any blooms
that growing urge won’t quite curtail
the seasonal ascent
which ultimately looms
for those whose time is spent.

Immersion

The emerald expanse
was eager to dance
as the wind whipped around every blade,
provocative verve
compelled me to swerve
distracted when each figure swayed;
it seemed to behave
just like a wave
that laps back and forth at the shore
so I flipped up my frown
and decided to drown
in springtime’s spontaneous spoor.

Part

We fleshy machines
with limited means
are used till we start
to cost too many beans

and then we’re replaced
our numbers erased,
just tossed on a cart
consigned to the waste—

whatever’s begun
will never be done
unless there’s a heart
to make it all run.

Descent

When tulips stretch
to kiss the sky
even a wretch
as low as I
can bask in the redemption drawing nigh

a fertile time
to try and sow
before the rime
encrusted snow
will force all fleeting structures to forego

the budding plots
that garnered gains—
they took their shots
but soon the reins
are handed to those that raze the remains.

Dominance

Disciples of Darwin deny a God
while bangers belabor the path He trod
but what adaptation can we embrace
to purge the greed that stunts our race?

Defect

The giant grew weary (as larger types will)
it’s tiresome lugging so much up the hill
he found a new clucker (as meek as could be)
to mother the litter so he could be free
but she picked the foulest (as far as fowl go)
of harpies to keep her command in the know
and now all the beasties (as if they should care)
are planning to find a new kingdom somewhere.

Downfall

The gooey amber curling strip
that hangs above my head
is filled with flies that used to zip
but now just lay there dead
and though I often gauge my grip
I’ve confidently said
that all our lives are just a blip
so why adhere to dread.

Unpalatable

Why bother today
there’s nothing to say
that anyone wants to hear anyway,
I’m tired and broke
my life is a joke
as stale as these verses I ever invoke
for no one has time
to reason or rhyme
they simply spew drivel and call it sublime
this culture of haste
of copy and paste
succumbs to the flavor, forsaking all taste.

Irrelevant

At least it passed without much fuss
as if there should be any
I had my loving family plus
some friends (though not too many)

we gobbled cake and frozen stuff
(the standard celebration)
my mumbled thanks were rather gruff
and onward went creation.

Squirrely

I can’t believe I go through this
just to get my nuts
I’d rather be a bum whose bliss
is scoring half-smoked butts
than pray I never feel the kiss
of shock absorbing struts.

Condition

His pleasant murmurs couldn’t erase
the amount of chagrin upon his face,
my litany of current ills
induced a bout of drastic chills
for all there was to aid my case
were stronger pain relieving pills.

Why are we made from hapless clay
condemned to face that fateful day
when faculties begin to fail
and even simple joys turn stale
regardless if we curse or pray
or curl up in a ball and wail?

“There’s nothing more that I can try
but pressure may be lessened by
an injection in the proper spot.”
I smiled and said “Let’s take a shot.”
we snickered so we wouldn’t cry
and leaving I said, “Thanks a lot.”

Eloquence

When words are used to willfully wipe
away the withering weight of woe
we gratefully grapple one less gripe
and gradually gracefully grow.

Shaft

What does she crave
a whiff of the grave?
He’s got to be really endowed,
but let’s not be coy
it isn’t a toy
that’s keeping this prospector wowed.

Bagged

They flutter in the breeze

from scraggly weeds and trees

these banners that proclaim

a race devoid of shame.

Blemishes

“For The People” they stump and cry
until they win, then it’s I, I, I
there’s no new tax they won’t invent
to milk from each constituent
the honey that supports their breed
a tasty treat we drones don’t need
so ply the polls with both eyes shut
they’re all just boils on the same old butt.

Engarde

Beware the most precocious sort
that flip their fancy just for sport—
don’t rush to hear your sabers clink
until you know just what they think.

Ownership

I fear this life is killing me
whatever shall I do
my body throbs in agony
from duties that I rue;
I tried the path of apathy
but never followed through,
was down with negativity
but that just made me blue,
surrendered to conformity
encountered nothing new
so tried responsibility
to realize my due
and now, this life is killing me
whatever shall I do?

CUL8R

She was treading the curb
on a lovely spring day
her thumbs all a blur
as she twittered away

then wandered distracted
in front of a truck
too bad no one texted
hey dummy LOOK UP!

Another?

Just another day…
where gray and dismal clouds
like shrouds around this ball of mud
will scud until the sun comes out
to rout them all away.

Just another dusk…
when brusque remains of light
take flight until our spinning world
is hurled beyond the crucial spot
to blot the solar musk.

Just another life…
where strife has been a constant pest
and rest is only earned in dribs
but cribs aren’t such a peaceful nook
to brook the looming knife.

Prefatory

What can you do if the earth is upset
where can you possibly hide?
We’re all in the tangle of gravity’s net
when continents fiercely collide,

but sediments settle and faults become free
to build up their tension once more
and someday The Big One will make us all see
how lucky we’ve been heretofore.

Intuit

What’s my motive to disperse
these endless reams of stilted verse?
I might as well just stand and curse

for all the good it does to sweat
composing every structured set
of ardor people soon forget,

but that’s what keeps me somewhat sane
and populates each pulsing vein—
a visceral voice that won’t refrain.

Formation

The hoplites hit the field unfazed
despite the shafts and swords that grazed
the dented shields and pitted helms
they donned to dominate all realms.
On blood soaked clay so firmly packed
from lusty legions that attacked
momentum, like a dory hurled,
increased to change the growing world—
the slashing, stabbing, screaming fray
continues on until this day.

Flourish

I want to share what I see
with a curious world
but seldom have the time
to sit and jot my rhyme,
this list is much too curled
with things that need to be.

But every now and then
I get a chance to versify
releasing what I’ve spied
in stanzas brightly dyed
with violet dreams that fly
from my forsaken pen.

Leader

Decorum doesn’t pay the bills
a quorum never quite fulfills
the vital role that motivates
a team to face whatever waits.

Layout

When you dwell in a tower of stone
you learn to accept certain flaws
that those in the clouds can’t condone
because they don’t foster The Cause.

The surface is cold to the touch
but such is the way of the ground
and cracks won’t be used as a crutch
for mortar is sold by the pound,

it’s all about building the walls
ensuring there’s plenty of room
to find different ways through the halls
with space enough left for a broom.

Flick

I feel a twinge start to impinge
and fear that soon I may unhinge
beginning a binge of words that singe
which make the unsuspecting cringe—

but it’s just a lark, I won’t embark
upon this course that’s too damn dark,
instead I’ll mark this day and bark
out laughter that renews my spark.

Persevere

Be in it to win it
or never begin it
for those that believe it
would rather not grieve it.

In

Independence isn’t cheap,
you have to learn to buffer
the indignities that heap
upon this hapless race
condemned to ever suffer
a deficiency of grace

when all you want to do is take
away the endless hurting—
detachment can be quite a stake
so gauge the payoff well
or else you’re only flirting
with a lonely stint in hell.

So?

It’s best to ply your yarn
ere evidence of wear
for damage you don’t darn
will soon be past repair
until you have revealed
what’s better left concealed.

Mileage

I was just a stupid kid
without the will to fight
unconcerned if what I did
would ever turn out right,
I hit the alley hard and hid
content to be contrite
then shook behind the flower shop
while gasping out “P-please don’t stop.”

Then I heard a telling squeal
and felt my heartbeat race
imagining how it would feel
when he danced upon my face,
she swore that it was no big deal
to tarry at my place
but someone should have told her man
that stalker in the two-tone van.

I must have seemed like such a clown
not even worth a sweat
he simply rolled his window down
and I never will forget
when he said “She’s had everyone in town,
don’t worry, you’ll find out yet!”
then snickered as he turned to go
amused by my impending woe.

The Wizard's Gambit

“I’ll show him!” the old man cried
striding around purposefully.
“My victory won’t be denied!”
he stammered quite maniacally,
with book of spells and features grim
this mage pursues a petty whim.

In a chilling sonorous baritone
his ancient voice begins to shout
while acrid swirls of thick brimstone
toss a silver mane about –
as cryptic words of power echo
the crackling air begins to glow.

A fearsome beast with flaming eyes
abruptly starts to appear,
then begins to patronize
sporting a most demonic sneer,
“You again? Oh let me guess
it’s time once more to lose at chess!”

Jerk

“Pull my strings!”
the puppet sings
“I need the tug
that guidance brings,

it’s like a drug,
or bracing chug
of icy ale
in a frosty mug,

so don’t curtail
the urge to wale
upon these things
that make me flail

it only stings
for a little while."
The puppet sings
"Pull my strings!"

Food of Love

Let me serve you
let me be
the only thing you need,
let me please you
let me see
how much my heart can bleed,
let me beg you
not to hurt me
praying you succeed,
let me give you
all the glee
on which the smitten feed.

Assimilated

Your plant is alive
it labors and breathes
it thrums like a hive
that steadily seethes,

it looms at my back
a great hairy beast
that longs to attack
and greedily feast,

it’s peeling white skin
exposes the stone
that’s garnished my grin
and battered my bone,

your plant blots the sun
and it’s roots rend the earth
I can’t wait till it’s done
growing fat off my worth.

Running

So progress is a… stop light,
how will we move ahead?
Well it also signals Turn Right
for subjects better led.

It all seems so confusing
perhaps I’d best change lanes
and leave uncharted cruising
to the tanks they fill with brains,

but that would be improper
I was born free, so I’ll die
just watch out for a copper
because I’m in the mood to fly!

Deprivation

Resistance to change can be painful
it’s something we all learn to face
and though a display is disdainful
we seldom surrender with grace,

but if we take time to examine
the choices we thought we once had
we find ourselves suffering famine
of reasons to think we were glad.

Flap

Again the ravens congregate
their harsh caws and frantic flight
to find a warmer spot tonight
insidiously infiltrate
these weathered clapboard walls.

With the wry philosophies
that faith employs
we seldom hear redemption when it calls
but I detect the subtleties
in each alarming noise.

First

I hope someday
when you’re old enough to know
you realize how much we love you,
until then play
as you heartily grow
and trust in God above you.

Tempest

In the wilds at night
the stars shine so bright
you tend to forget that it's dark
and sometimes it seems
the light from these beams
make any perception a lark,

and so it became
for the man with no name
as he silently stared in the tent,
he knuckled his eyes
but to his surprise
the instinct to strike was now spent.

Extremities numb
he sat, overcome
by a feeling he never had known
unleashing a mood
where senses were skewed
encouraging him to atone

for all of the lives
the children and wives
his terrible blade had undone,
from that moment hence
he'd make recompense
to her that bedazzled the sun.

His thoughts were so deep
he just didn't keep
his mind on the matter at hand
and failed to detect
that his target had trekked
outside to defiantly stand

with silk robes a mess
and each raven tress
caressing her heavenly form,
their eyes fiercely locked
then widened, quite shocked
as a wall of sand started the storm.


***OK, here is finally part three of my desert saga. It's been a while but hopefully I'll finish it soon, though I make no promises. Below are links to the first two chapters, enjoy!***

Part I Part II

Can the Spam

I get a bit excited when I think my stuff’s been read
and hungrily devour any feedback that is said
but lately when I click on comments all I see instead
is lousy spam and I hope this pesky peon soon drops dead.

Void

The dormant dale retired
neath a virgin quilt of white
I rambled on, inspired
by the blankness of the night,

a darkness from without
imparting quietude within
that blankets any doubt
before it can begin—

for nothing seems amiss
in the arms of the abyss.

Capitalize

Every person NEEDS to know they’re needed
every voice is HUNGRY to be heeded
each spirit should ASPIRE to be special
we all possess UNLIMITED potential.

Delicate

Some hearts aren’t meant to break
or even bear a single blow,
their fragile nature just can’t take
the all-consuming ache of woe.

See young Bess? Her madness proves
some hearts aren’t meant to break,
you can see it in the way she moves
the way her bony fingers shake;

the love she thought she had was fake
he didn’t mean the things he said.
Some hearts aren’t meant to break
so she simply shot him dead.

One look into her haunted eyes
will chill your soul and surely make
you sadly realize−
some hearts aren’t meant to break.

Phases

Through earth’s nurturing bosom I explode
past seedless silos left to corrode
and all along the way
there are signs of decay
enjoyed by hungry crows beside the road.

The moon’s lingering aura is a curse
enlightening the terminally terse
with silver rays of truth
ignored by hasty youth
when there was still a chance to hit reverse.

Inspiration

Creativity
is something we
should always strive to share
imagination
is our salvation
from moribund despair
enlightenment
to some extent
will surely be attained
delivering
the very thing
for hope to be maintained.


***A couple of years ago we had a thriving virtual community that really promoted each other. I myself rarely comment on anyones blog anymore but wanted to take a moment to highlight 5 of my online friends. The list would be longer but some are currently MIA, so I shall leave them be. Please check out their wonderful work and let them know you appreciate their imagination.***

Billy
Shirley
Dimps
Anonymous
Gerald

Rock

Each word is like a precious gem
that must be set just so
to make an artful diadem
with a mesmerizing glow

and facets you adroitly cut
will ultimately swell
with scintillating sparkle but
seek clarity as well.

Idiot Proof

Despite the data amassed
we’ve never quite surpassed
one simple rule of thumb—
at times we all act dumb.

Mr. Sociable

He is graceful and charming
completely disarming
essential to any social affair

obligingly devout
mingling about
dispensing kind words here and there.

Hands reach to touch him
elbows to nudge him
eyes seek a glimpse of his smile

he’s a man with flair,
obvious savoir-faire
a portrait of tactful style.

But sometimes I wonder
if deep down under
he tires of this endless game?

I think his façade
is becoming slipshod
I don’t think he’s living up to his name

for I detected a hint
of a reticent glint
in his otherwise jovial eyes

perhaps his desire
is to simply retire
and watch all the fuss pass him by.

Getting There

The giant was angry (as their kind grow cross)
when facing a forecast of ongoing loss
he sacked the old captain (without much ado)
for making the swamp a morass to go through
and then took a gamble (ignoring the odds)
to maybe replenish his dwindling wads
by asking the mirror (that once manned the helm)
to help him bring sanity back to the realm.

Harbinger

It looked so like a comet
I truly thought it was
but it was just a big jet
doing what it does

contaminating precious air
to haul an anxious horde
around the world, despite the fare
how much can we afford?

Smack

A passionate plea won’t suffice
her body is brittle as ice
but distance can sometimes entice—

performing a permanent shrug
can lure someone just like a drug
to lust for hot lips on their mug.

What a Beach

The harbor is deserted,
horizon’s graphite gray
a lonely coast is skirted
by an angry, foaming spray

intent on inundating
the stubborn structure who
will ever be awaiting
that vessel overdue.

Parenthetical

I thought about my life
(or lack thereof)
remembering the strife
I’ve faced for love
and when I gave the knife
a pointed shove
to vindicate that life
(or lack thereof).

But can I say I’ve tried?
(To some degree)
we all must grapple pride
or cease to be
for what we are inside
makes others see
if we have truly tried
(to some degree).