Best Bosky Poems

He speaks for the uprooted.
A man of sorts, a twiggy Buddha.
He who interprets
the conferences of frogs,
the unpublished works
of kestrels and voles.

He’s an advocate for the underbelly
of a microbial heaven, for every kind
of uncouth animalcule.

Ancient is he, yet as fresh as tomorrow,
in green ponds he fishes...

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Grateful Hearts


       You awaken us in the morning, with the warmth of sun upon our face.
                      When twilight...

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Through the bosky brush, straight lines stand
Lean and sinewy, yet with thickness, strong
Surrounding the curtilage which encases -
Elysium ensconced on a heavenly hill
Lines point upwards, then take many different paths
Each direction, somewhat crooked lines hold ornaments
Like a pendant that hangs on one's neck
Yet an arboreous...

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You held my heart in your hands
And forced me to take it back 
I wore your cross on my back 
Crying let me love you, let me save you
My heart grew to heavy to hold
Your cross sprouted thorns
Light couldn’t shine on your bosky character 
And...

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Written: September 24, 2023
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In the dawn-like haze—a shriek was heard,
An echo so shrewd, yet birdless, oddly slurred 
It was ordained by—a stratum unseen,
A throbbing coerce, a numen so keen. 

A canticle flower—a bellow coarsely flung,
Through bosky drifts, those shadows clung.
The broken clavicle, brittle skull,
Doused in...

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He speaks for the uprooted.
A man of sorts, a twiggy Buddha.
He who interprets
the conferences of frogs,
the unpublished works
of kestrels and voles.

He’s an advocate for the underbelly
of a microbial heaven, for every kind
of uncouth animalcule.

Ancient is he, yet as fresh as tomorrow,
in green ponds he fishes...

Continue reading...

Greening trees thatch back
a tattered sky.
The cock-a-hoop of Cardinals,
roosters and cawing crows
all kicking-up patches of sound,
ruddy periods in the catchy sonics,
canorous stops and starts.
all in a catawampus.

I am far from song yet.
my ears are bats hung from chilly temples,
but I do feel a coyote-itch
a hitch...

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