New World

Your spectral essence coruscates,
a brand new constellation
whose steadfast glow facilitates
uncharted navigation;
my heading never deviates
to lose your emanation.
I seek the shore where bounty waits—
that fabled destination.

Stock

Why must I come and bear the stone,
corroded links and pointless drone
of Rorschach statements well designed
to motivate my feeble mind?

All I want to do is create.

I sacrifice the specimen
as mindless measures steal my pen;
all contributions written off
as quickly as the rolls they doff.

Will my menial onus abate?

I struggle, every effort spent
to revel in accomplishment
which benefits my own desire—
no greater motive could inspire.

Doomed to sharing the paper’s fate!

Sketchy

They say that lead is stronger than steel
but my pencil can’t begin to scratch
the stony pride of Roman zeal
some ancient chisel seemed to catch;
I strive to get the look just right—
through shadow play we see the light.

Lover's Almanac

No fiercer blaze was ever seen than in
your eyes, which sparkled brightly that cold night,
their sultry power made my insides spin
with somersaults of unabashed delight.

The tingly touch of frosted lips undid
my last reserve, I stretched a playful tongue
to taste your fragile falling form, which slid
beyond my throat to quell those words that stung

much worse than any wound I’d felt before,
and all was still once more. A distant howl
reminded us how storms can help restore
the calm that gets upended by their scowl.

An extra glint of sunshine seemed to bring
a hint that we would see an early spring.

Home Sick

Exhausted by this foreign clime,
relentless sand awaits my spade
beneath these stars as old as time.

What secrets lie below the dunes,
perhaps a shard of glass inlaid
with strangely wrought exotic runes?

How did this race procure its end,
were fatal flaws indeed parlayed
to bring about extinctions trend?

I sift for clues with growing dread.
Will my report at last be made
to another planet cold and dead?

Corporate Alchemy

I know what I said
but that’s not what I meant—
when swimming in red
no quarter is spent
so get through your head
my final intent
to thoroughly shred
and then reinvent.

Clan Concentric

Within the circle life begins

A pristine soul created

Then loving arms will gently close

So fears can be abated

And as our bright blue cradle spins

New hope is cultivated

Around again, the circle grows

Fresh segments integrated

With every turn our hearts construct

New bridges that betoken

A burning need to find the place

Where only truth is spoken

Horizons limned in growing light

Will greet those just awoken

While revolutions endlessly

Continue on unbroken.

To Arms!

You can blah blah blah blah talk all day
but it’s what you do, not what you say
that will swing momentum either way—
now gird your loins and join the fray!

Family Tradition

So many dreams
so little ambition,
my lack of assurance
a family tradition—
can I outgrow
this predisposition?
historical data
refutes the transition.

Struggling to change
my inherent condition,
the heart of desire
pumps raw red sedition,
inciting my spirit
to toe the convention
of positive exploit
supporting intention.

Overload

Much nobler minds have contemplated
that which whispers on the fringe
of my poor brain inundated
with enough turmoil to unhinge.
Such fatal thoughts are too extreme
problems are seldom as bad as they seem.

When rampant confusion reigns inside
perspective becomes questionable,
trivial woes are magnified,
careless words wax detestable—
defenses tend to over react
as the bonds of misery slowly contract.

Locked in a cell of apprehension
prisoner of futility,
the best way to handle undue tension
is just to let the small things be;
mishaps occur, surely no crime
handle your life one task at a time.

No Deposit

Someone once told me
you can’t bottle love’s
essence of burning devotion,
nor can you grant
overwhelming desire
by concocting a magical potion,
but I’m lining up
these empty containers
pursuing my own crazy notion
that somehow, someday
I’ll find a way
to hold this elusive emotion.

The Skinny

Temptation is a tasty fruit
until the flesh is bitten
releasing the acidic juice
that heretofore was hidden;
indulgence can be dangerous
and cause the stomach damage
your standard fare should be enough—
Low-Carb has its advantage.

Acoustic Retreat

On a melodic quest through the cacophonous maw of humanity
the medicated and malcontents accost my waning sanity;
overwrought compositions of doubt and arrogance
swell to a crescendo of egocentric dissonance
conducting me to seek harmonious resonance—
timber with the pleasing timbre of creativity.

I need to feel each sonic pulse race along the vibrant grain
like shivers of expression much too potent to contain,
lightning bolts of inspiration course down my spine
radiating through my soul with messages divine.
Daily I must visit my hollow-bodied shrine
or without question, I will surely go insane.

Send a Poet

What level-headed technobot will be,
with plastic suit and focused eyes alight
the first to face some distant galaxy,
what jargon will articulate this sight?
The drone of an empiric devotee
just can’t convey the awe of gods in flight;
if only Shakespeare were alive today
and felt an urge to skim the Milky Way.

Big Sky Country

Nestled in this creaky wicker
gazing at a distant flicker
wondering why people bicker
when there’s so much to explore:

iridescent galaxies call—
enigmatic moons enthrall—
mysteries both big and small—
who could call this life a bore?