Unfettered mind in the deepest night,
files on batwings to immense new heights.
While nestled dreamers immersed in sleep,
meet with night things in dreamtime’s keep.
Crickets and frogs will lull them to sleep,
shadows playing about pulls minds into the keep.
Therein they will find eyes glowing bright,
owls and bats, cats with nocturnal sight.
The cadence of the unseen rings loud and clear;
twisting and entwining all through the ears.
disguised faces, places will play in obscurity;
twisted scenarios, reel in caliginosity.
In murky compendium stories will swarm,
riding dark horses and onyx unicorns.
A curious note, these night things can teach;
then enter one’s dreams and attach like a leash.
Archetypal patterns, sound, smell and sight,
gather together and may give one a fright
but, there’s always a message, quite loud and clear;
pay attention to dreams, never show any fear.
For guidance is given all dreamers alike,
don’t wait until life fails you with a rigid strike.
Learn to discern the esoteric meanings
and apply it securely for life’s new beginnings.
Categories:
batwings, dream, philosophy, poems, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
Her hair's so black, the blue is breaking through.
Centre-parted with furrow crown to fore,
Perfectly placed and kept in position
As pretty red ribbons bind the bunches.
Her face is crazed and tanned to leather.
Too many benders on Benidorm beach.
Her mouth is creased, possibly from decades
Of dragging long and hard on king-size tipped.
But her lips: Aah! A work of art in crimson.
Today she wears a short-sleeve summer frock.
Floral pattern with red to match her lippy.
Her batwings flap-flop like Labrador ears.
Her small white socks sit snug in hiking boots.
She is the little girl in the old lady.
Time corrupts. Her comfort, her addiction.
After her tour of town she sidles off
To swig Bushmills on a bus-station bench.
Guess who must help to carry her back home.
Categories:
batwings, life,
Form: Blank verse
I gambled down in Geogia and up in Tennessee
I learned the game in Reno way back in eighty three
I took a train to Dallas to show 'em how it's done
Now I'm sittin' by the highway holdin' out my thumb
Nobody ever warned me that cowboys play with cards
I thought they just did brandin' and fixed up cattle guards
They took my bills and coins and then they took my boots
Then tossed me through the batwings with lots of yips and hoots
If I get out of Texas I aim to go back home
I'll settle down and marry, I've lost the urge to roam
So, friend, let me warn you if you are a gamblin' man
Keep your talents out of Texas, enjoy it while you can
8/5/2017
For Late Summer Standard Contest for Brian Strand
Categories:
batwings,
Form: Couplet
Our skin when young was soft as a cuddly baby kittens,
getting turkey necks and batwings only leads to wisdom,
will not ever admit defeat,
as I look at my new crows feet,
at least we still have some animal magnetism.
Categories:
batwings, age, animal, humor, wisdom,
Form: Limerick
My wife was a spook ,she lived in a secret little nook
She spooked all the old houses of Thomasville Oak Brook
She loved to cook crispy batwings
And tied me to her apron strings
One night in frenzy of love she ate me up with a fluke
Categories:
batwings, fun, nonsense,
Form: Limerick
What fools do sing of Karma?
Justice meted out like some kind of sick equation as though
any thoughts or theorems are constant.
I'm sure Pythagoras and Euclid would be very proud of all of us.
See this place and time:
Sigma batwings beat like boomerangs,
doors slamming out the dust-choked sunlight,
trapping sinners in the saint saloon.
An argument!
There at the corner table where
pink flesh meets inlaid wood and
the oily leather squeaks and cracks around the
ultimate geometry machine the
steel bed for brass and lead and rifling.
This is bar-graph justice, an
erxcercise in mean and percentage, or
was it median?
Bam!Bam!
Like a prophet fired from the kiln those bullets eat the air
between the foresight and the torso.
This is aborigional justice come
'round full circle on a decent man.
Categories:
batwings, cowboy-western
Form: I do not know?
Oh, my God, the time approaches,
digital fever spreads and encroaches
upon the mind with batwings of fear,
grey and flapping, loud and clear.
Tremulous hands clasped on a coffee mug,
the worst trip ever in absence of drug;
audible blood pounds in tingling veins,
impending admissions like runaway trains.
Control slips away, again it’s gone wrong,
reality tilts and lurches along;
stress digs it’s spurs in the flanks of despair
and black cockroach legs crawl through fast thinning hair.
Adrift and alone, unsupported in flux,
and what is it for - just a couple of bucks?
for the promise of change is a red cloud of steam,
still it grows worse, a recurrent bad dream.
Time always loops with the air turning blue,
Black Friday is come with it’s sick deja vu;
and the fear felt torture in dark rancid breath,
holds no great escape in a promise of death.
Conviction strikes home, freezing hammer of steel,
it knowingly pounds the truth cold and real:
however it cuts, above or below it,
God’s just a sadist who don’t even know it.
Categories:
batwings, allegory, life, time, drug,
Form: Verse
I am blinded by her image,
A lone sainted visitation,
Marching on the snow swept steppes,
A ghost in isolation.
I glimpse a tribal statuette,
On white-gold desert plain;
A stallion black as ebony,
A charge of love and pain.
As celluloid flaps off the reel,
Like batwings in a dream,
The tearful burn of incinerate
Engulfs the dying screen.
Murdered in the cheap seats,
Oh, my weeping heart be still;
Impaled on silver nitrate shafts,
Such radiance drains the will.
The film has died a death,
Yet down remains the light,
And embers sear the filter
In the clapperboard of night.
Though succumbed to reality's plague,
Fading in the neon spill,
In my mirror image eyes of love
Her vision lives on still...
Categories:
batwings, love, mystery, passion, uplifting,
Form: Verse