Best Baritone Poems

An arthritic flesh

Hesitant wipes off deteriorated lens

Every exhale,
Another tragic sulk unto morrow’s pit
Flaunting suicidal fallacies

Off-white flag motions
Signaling mercy under liar’s duress

Muted pride
Cracking dusty knuckles

Penetration’s decrepit vowel
Slipping in between faulty, stamped licenses
Just to belong

Another back-handed waltz
Bordering beggar dialects

Untrue
Towards paradoxical epiphanies

A faceless identity
Converging amongst unwelcomed hymns
Tainting hallelujahs...

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Round about nineteen 1971-2, yours truly bid adieu 
to Henry Kline Boyer Elementary School 
   (situated at crossroads – then beau
colic rural routes of Evansburg Road and Ridge Pike), where nary a clue
prevails today of such pristine farm country due
to undergo radical urbanization...

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Minimal involvement with extracurricular activity at Methacton
   limited to playing Baritone Horny within the band
   though marginal interest existed to maintain constancy 
feigning noteworthy interest second to none
   eventually Mister O'Donnell 
   (I remember without mental exertion...

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Upon entering Methacton Junior High School as rookie Warrior, 
   (the sturm un drang sports team mascot) 
   no doubt this goy he brew
a facade sans being wimpy kid, bookish nerd, and puny dork 
   who felt wracked with...

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Liquid fire in his heart
Hands too soft to play the part
but if that fire turns to ice
the tears will flow not once, but twice

The passion play has found an end
For broken hearts that cannot mend
but if that heart turns in to stone
his fate will be...

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Dressed in white
Was it really right
Glistening sunset
Where lips met

Wine glass sorrow
A gift is tomorrow
Lowered your eyes
Hiding lies

It was not fate
For love to wait
But it was fate
She would be late

Confetti falling
Broken voices stalling
Shattered stairs
Sudden glares

Highest of high
The lowest sigh
White to red
All were dead

Dressed in white
It wasn't...

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oh lord
how long
shall it take
for
love
to sail her ship
through
this
wall of fire
through
the
truth and lies
until
your
baritone blue eyes...

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Foul mouthed he was,foul mouthed he was called,
A beast with words,an obsession he wards,
South is his tone,without a fear to his baritone,
A grave his tongue digs,for him he'll only sink....

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Bari
Red, Maroon
Swinging, Smoothing, Swaying
Candy For My Ears
Saxophone...

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Due to an inherent desire
                                        ...

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