The Silent LandlineTelephone
WARNING POEM RATED R Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian. ADVISED FOR THOSE WHO ALREADY BROKEN IN BY TAKEN LSD. POEM MIGHT BE PERMANENTLY MIND ALTERING! Namaste
borderline
Park was the head officer on the border crossing between North and South Korea. He had a problem. Two weeks ago a woman, let's call her lin, pitched up at the crossing gate with a jute bag of soil attached to the front panniers of her well maintai
the wild road
Hearts? yes be they a bell still dimly all a chime though faint and pure it sleeps a'rest neath the fraying canvass of time yet what is comfort friend? what is rest and what balances the ledger of your heart when all her m
the face of god
I took a walk in ancient clothes across your face, a mile and as I tired I took a rest in the corner of your smile my crops slept in barren fields before my primary death then your eyes became a sun and moon as birds danced in your breath
Nights
When I am unable to see a wink I beg the night to give me some sleep.
Starfall
To distant memories and new beginnings.
Philosophy
Philosophy of life that became a sermon in poetic form.
What We Trust In Our Hearts
Little fears and doubts should be listened to.
MY LIFE
contemplations thats all
Legal Alien
Humans develop a deep connections with the places they settle in and the need to feel we belong to a place, to a unit or group of people, a community or society is inherent in us all! The mind might not always grasp what the heart feels.
shelter from the dorm
twas a time of fresh worn innocence, eighteen years of age, and the writ of my experience fell short upon the page, ragged as a student who had never eaten warm, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm hardly out of smallburg, green as a
the trail
she looks at me dark hair runs down the corridor of her shoulder, still warm from the last shot of whiskey, her words stop me cold: "You know big fella.. when your belly is full and your lust is emptied, when malt dances in and out of that coas
the song of evening
I was never taught how music's sold and bought all I know is every girl I ever knew had lyrics.. but never you girl you are a celtic air a blend of strings when no-one's there no need for lines nor lyrics wrote a warmth
the girl after.. the girl after you
old boats they can charm any ocean fibreglass lord knows runs afoul and for every newsflashy gimmick there's a hundred year handcrafted dowel see I do not blame you woman for quitting on summer's depart see you can't expect
the blue whale
we tracked it with technology we fixed a tracing ring in the hope of reading data the haunted click to sing we followed her in boats she pitched a role to play we watched her shoal a stanza as time zones fell away she beached in Californ
Is it wrong to fall?
Is it wrong to fall? To expend one's potential as drawn to what one may not alter to only flail at guidance? The gravity of choices inexorable to defend against?
My Dream Date
Totally abstract daydreaming about a dinner date with my dream-girl while out walking on a deserted street.
the last Irish wolf, 1786
to the day the darkness brings an end I am the last Irish wolf the darkness is my friend they killed me and they skinned me as the virgin snows a'fell but the tavern's cheers are qualified they know I wait in hell I am the pee
guitar
I spent Monday just walking through town.. searching for magical.. timbers of brown Tuesday's arrival.. flooded my deck.. from the truest of branches.. I fashioned your neck I spent Wednesday doing nothing at all.. till a bird with your voice..
some nights
when the river is gentle when sound runs and sighs when starlight is music when I first heard your lies your blonde hair silk curtains fell over my world and it robbed me of daylight on the night it unfurled some nights I can't sleep
rusted trucks
carrie walked out of the diner.. her shift was nearing its end.. and the trees made love in the darkness.. and her eyes to a smile did pretend talks about music and college.. did rise and fall on the air.. and a heart that once loved another.. for
the willow signs her name on the river
when the playing cards fall from the poker game of life in name or in spirit I'll always call you wife you watched me live my dreams as I trapped the river, free you only caught a fleeting glimpse of how we used to be the river shares
the artist
our tale begins midwinter in austere and ancient rooms.. where landlords sold satanic ales to drink away life's glooms a tortured artist drinks alone his circumstances dire sheltering in his suffering ways adjacent to the fire the world h
Not Tonight but Tomorrow (1978)
I came across this poem last night, and it captivated me with the phrasing and usage of his words.
For God sake ...Take the pill !
LCBL was commenting about the pill I read So that gave me this quirky inspiration . Thanks bro ... Thou those pills are a multi billion dollars money making industries. This is really a very disturbing reality We really dont know what we are popping in our mouth .
silent highway
I see missed steps along the silent highway.. forgotten by the sound of endless cars.. how can a soul of your enduring conscience.. compete with all them souls that have no scars? silence is bitter when its raining.. you feel too much to set a de
that girl
I met me a girl called Deja Vu her folks seemed to know me and her dog did too she told me my future as we lied in bed she seemed to know the architect inside my head dirty blonde curls and big eyes blue and a voice that told ya t
No One Knows
* As per the Greek myth of Helios.
on strawberry hill
For Vanessa
Bertha
While showering.
iron bars
I came from the sea.. I came from the sea.. is that woman still there.. does she still wait on me..? I took a life.. I took a life.. as a life tried to take mine from me.. so I left my ship and hid inside the bark of a lonesome tree.. until hunge
cautionary tale
to a five penny piece I shrunk to the size as life made me hard in the head and the eyes so press ganged was I on a leathery ship that lived in a pocket on the side of her hip and life wasn't easy and life wasn't hard it was tough
wandering anger
I met her in the winter.. in a bar upon the hill.. when the dark was carved from starlight.. and the moon had paid the bill I came in from the wilderness.. from the howling wind and rain.. I was weary from my journeys.. around other people's pain
Haiku/Senryu Compilation
Senryu is a Japanese form of short poetry similar to haiku in construction: three lines with 17 or fewer morae (or on) in total. However, senryu tend to be about human foibles while haiku tend to be about nature, and senryu are often cynical or darkly humorous while haiku are more serious. Unlike haiku, senryu do not include a kireji or verbal caesura (cutting word), and do not generally include a kigo, or seasonal word. It is often said that both haiku and senryu can be funny, but that if it’s funny, it’s probably senryu. Both haiku and senryu can be about nature, but if it’s about nature, it’s probably a haiku. In addition, both haiku and senryu can be about nature or human nature. Both haiku and senryu can be serious or humorous/satirical. A serious poem about nature is certainly a haiku. And a funny/satirical poem about human nature is certainly a senryu. Tanka consist of five units (often treated as separate lines when transliterated or translated), usually with the following mora pattern: 5-7-5-7-7. The 5-7-5 is called the kami-no-ku (“upper phrase”), and the 7-7 is called the shimo-no-ku (“lower phrase”).
on a train to Cornwall
I sit transfixed as thought it flies to see warmth twice inside her eyes reflected in the glassy pane two pupils flower past disdain a look of summer dressed in light a thirst beyond the drink of sight some lust for life and
Night Light ( Cinquain )
Stresses Per Line The first line has one stress, which was usually iambic meter with the first syllable unstressed and the second stressed. Line two has two stresses. Line three has three stresses. Line four has four stresses. Line five has one stress. Syllables Per Line Following the invention of this form, Crapsey made changes to the form and included a certain number of syllables per line. Line one had two syllables. Line two had four syllables. Line three had six syllables. Line four had eight syllables. Line five had two syllables. There are other forms of cinquain but I liked this one.
Dante: nature is the art of God
(or the unwitting brilliance of someone who didn't know it) you never walked.. 'twas more the curve of the earth.. found a mooring.. in the shape of your foot you never sang..' twas more a distillation of vibrated yearning.. and what emerged..
No ideal answer
There is no ideal answer to life's dilemmas or its demise No ultimate thought or idea or eloquent word to enlighten our eyes All there are but perceptions and often projections Just individual interjections hoping somehow we can pause for
Plutonic Temple
Should anyone read it, bear in mind that it is art, an expression of it through writing. It was however inspired by my initial awakening & how unsettling & awkward it was in the inability to convey something I did not yet understand. They say the more you learn, the crazier you will sound & the more intelligent a person actually is, the lonelier the life they live. I do not accept that answer. Life is experienced in the way you yourself choose to experience it just as people treat us only how we allow ourselves to be treated. Knowledge is power, truly. Once the buzz is felt from the power, from that point on.......it is now addiction.
The pain of love
When the pain of love is just too much that eventually one needs a crutch to hold together the pieces of a fragmented heart When nothing seems to matter As that last desperate effort to salvage what is left We are still in bereft When
Nuance
June 8, 1982.
the sea
be it in the tumble aft the winch or out the bow in winter's pinch my heart oft seeks the raven tide in floating cabin I reside bearded, wild quick tempered be my natural place is on the sea my northern star her memory the anch