Best Acrid Poems

HURT (Acrid Soul)

Hurt
Lingers
on her tongue.
Lips unable
to adjust. Prayers be-
came her remedy. Lips
slowly moving; causing her
tongue to breathe yet again. In hopes
of not tasting another acrid
soul...

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October: I'm eighteen, shortcutting home
through an autumn-burnished churchyard -
copper-lustred leaves, moss-skinned stone -
a jaunty swing of skater skirt and arm,
college folder square-sturdy in my hand.
In...

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An almost stillness came about
as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty

But her obsidian eyes betrayed her....

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dust …

they say ...
dust ... to dust, yet
I have measured the stars
counted their intervals
felt hope's whisper on my neck, keen
kissed and cursed its face …
I...

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Damned by the devil's curse upon my heart
I pace the lonely bridge twixt love and hate
Stalked by death's shadow from the very start
Forsaken by the...

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My coffee, my house,
   cinnamon and hint of clove
      in a full bodied french roast...
 acrid, bitter, pungent...

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Ash - grey chemised
she shifts her shape
as silver flakes float coat
stripped naked places, 
sheath curves and angled spaces
Angry glitter tingle stings
thick earth skin with prickly...

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2018 - nothing new here

He sits
slumped in his corner
weary, battered, bruised,
but not beaten.

He has survived,
studied this craft,
this art of living,
these cycles of change.

He has tasted...

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It was the summer - August 4
When England joined the First World War
1914 the very year
Before wives and children shed their bitter tears

‘The war to...

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RAINDROPS OF IMMORTALITY

Smiles were stolen from me long time ago
Days gone gray as storms rush to play: my...
They drain. Fervently, I called to the Heavens...

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Black Squirrels.....
Leave no shadow
Heads bowed in solemn faith
Cars weaving between stations of the
Cross; and old spanish tiled crypts
A glimpse, then another the casket lowered
The air,...

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City streets spew fire on sunburnt July day.
Dabbing sweat from brow, I meld into paved sea. 
Mick cries out "Angie" from quaint corner café;
slowing steps,...

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(Base USO club, Zweibrucken, Germany, 1963)

Of a lazy afternoon, I sit
     propped up,
Bones aching, sorely tired from
    ...

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Her feline grace reclined, 
triumph ruled in Her eyes -
Many sought the blue flamed tryst 
in shaded groves they court with lies.

These men fell power...

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"Black Molasses"



Black Molasses 
holds to ransom 
footprints 
sucked into 
Tropic of Capricorn mud
as bushfires bleed
sugar from cane
like molten glucose 
shot into the veins
of Mother Earth...

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