alas

November 17, 2017

I say  “shudder to think”  is a gothic cliche’

But at times  all too accurate,

The  strictest  depiction,

When I would  shudder & shake some

As I stood  on my sidewalk  in lieless sun

With what I witness,   with what I thought

alas

 

There’s not  much white light

In the shadows I can cast

 

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AFTER A FLUTTERBY FANCY

November 6, 2017

 

 

 

There’s often been  unfocused fire

Before the rhododendron,

8-15-2007-12

 

Like off a roadway, on a hot day,

Sure,  unfocused  fire

Blurring this entire English garden.

Bumble birds and humming bees,

Warm words tumbling, tumbling on great grass.

Late last night it wouldn’t cease;

The dream is in the English sun.

I took cream in my steaming , strong tea.

Virginia, Leonard Woolf  I could see

With her lot

Iris Murdoch & John I could see

With her lot

Barrie and Carroll

Knelt on all fours

For hours

Playful,  cerebral  somehow.

I’m thinking,  As I burrow my brow

Rough for this pillow

I’ll settle, Right now, Near the shade of that willow

& succumb  to cats on a lawn

& three  secret facts of tea roses.

.

.

.

.                                (from 2009)

photo mine

WORDMATHS

November 3, 2017

 

 

“as I sleep
fast deep green seas tore at some shore.”

.
In my defence
I’m sure it’s
that most wordsmiths
have worked the Earth;
its life..its weather, its flora,
in metaphors galore.
This sun, that moon arise. A Rose.
the cliff gales, what the dark knows,
poorly lit paths,
the sway of mayhem—
the sweet wordmaths
configuring out
Reflection

.

.

.                                                                   (from 2008)

 

Cognizant Nugget

October 23, 2017

I heard in the crosswords

Cain killed the Keeper of the Sheep

“Learn something  every day”

For most of it though  don’t go and lose sleep

EDGY ARTIST SELL

September 8, 2017

 

 

Peter Sellers (9/8/1925-7/24/1980)

.

.

I heard a ways back/that the actor Peter Sellers/stormed off a set/(a clunker cliche’/”stormed” as a verb)/That Sellers acted up, disturbed/by all that was wrong when a man in the crew/

wore green and purple.

Sellers balked at doing the scene and walked off/quite mad./Purple and green./An omen of death,I guess/not for you/

Edgy artist/Peter felt put out enough about it/the stuperstition thing/to blurt it/stand by it/insistassuming others to buy it.

Stuperstitious/I’m edgy/it just doesn’t hurt./Tonight I wear my purple tee shirt/The one I sport under my sportjacket For and at my favorite Art concerts/ My sisters…/

my snug Mr Greenjeans, and Airwalks are on/I ride on a stride so fucking strong/

soundsynch on my full ON! phone/

juju mon/ Rajiohead/ Could carry me dead on.

.

 

(from 2009)

REFLECTING ON THIS STALL

August 22, 2017

“Under the willow tree I hide my mirror,

small enough to be mistaken for morning dew.

I look for a point of origin, something to explain how and why

we all must see it through.”          

 

 

Encased  in  impasse,

I couldn’t even eye other passengers

past my papers.

I wouldn’t watch what

my window offered:

small towns, & all their lights,

Reflections, inside, of us riding passersby.

We keep on sweeping by.

.

Inspecting  these all  aspects of my work,

Taking stock,    this stall  is a lock still.

Y’see, yesterday’s night

I ran nine yellow lights,

& Just as there were dares that didn’t time out right

I’ll just decide to still ride

 

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the sublime opening verse is from my favorite online poet

Allison Grayhurst, from “Eating From An Imaginary Spoon”  https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/168535/posts/1567304886

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SHE WAS THE FIRST TO GO

August 18, 2017

 

 

 

It might have been one long neon light

In the laundromat that set her off

When it flickered & popped

At us/ All of us up late

Our eyes were hypnotized some

All bets were off

On what might happen

She was the first to go

To distract us from our books & hand-machines,

Pull us from our puzzles, also  our magazines

Her  saying all that nonsense  fouled by fire

Interrupted  that late night scene

Her  calling  names  out

All intense,  Her pleas

We stared some  & stuck out that someone’d stop her

Her call to fallen reveries

Her  own  effin reveries

.

.

.

(2012)

A BARGE

August 13, 2017

A barge I bet  can float through our wait

Hours upset, but in an instant I can’t hate

Hating hundreds of roads apart, while  hearts

Skinwalls near  forever here, & there with you  wait.

.

.

.          (unfinished)

G L A R E

August 11, 2017

I’ve had a share of furtive glares & glimpses

Clandestine tiny glares & glances

I now redden to reminiscences

I’m now ready  to try new roads

Step surer into newer eventualities

Bet dearer  on far-fetched gains

I’m pretty sure to shift to uplifting new payloads

Pretty sure  no hurricanes

It could all work out,  take root,

It’d  adapt.

If I’d  freely feel  to enrapture your eye

& I  enchant  your  glare

RYE INROADS

August 4, 2017

On  inroads, scraping,

& Faced with less escaping;

One  reclamation.

.

.

I’ve  erased  all boasts

Of   encroaching  clarity.

Thought I’d caught a glimpse.