Best Bowels Poems

Satan in my bowels
All I can say is 'ow'
Cringing and churning
My biscuits are burning
I’m praying for relief
Some sort of lanolin leaf
Wondering why I wasn’t born
Before...

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Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression,...

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My turds float like choc’late marshamallows
Just lurking about in the shallows
I guess that my butt
Is truly kaput
So doctor suggests bitter aloes

I questioned such treatment regime
Doc...

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My appreciation Francis Crasto for allowing me to collaborate with you as your 'psychiatrist' on ‘A MAN UNDER STRESS’- A great sequel to your recent...

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It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents,
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In...

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The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

This tale of “The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror”
lives on in the mountain village of Gpeth...

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Earth's rich soil
humble dirt
complex dirt
elemental earth
layer upon layer
where it hides
mineral treasures
more than we could
ever measure.

Quartz and crystals
gold and gems
salt and silver
precious oil
stolen and lifted
by hands...

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I stood as though reborn on mounded dirt,
which seemed so moist it strangely could assuage
the ache from bowels that howled from so much hurt.
Would ground...

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The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

This tale of “The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror”
lives on in the mountain village of Gpeth...

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Frightend children under the baobab
Of elders discourse playing
At the deep edge of rites
Of passages
With no Atlantic dream.

There is a beauty here
Before the other world began
Forgetting...

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We lived in a crooked house.
Built on a muddy mound of hope with the corpse of yesterday half buried beneath
Sad eyes and smiley faces. A...

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I think there is a new vibration, I can feel it right here on my stoop.
Can you smell it in the wind, I’m thinking it...

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The flames of the furnace (well-travelled by wind
slowly glazing the rags of gray women chagrined
at the sight of a hair fleeing tresses now thinned) 
sometimes...

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Injustice is just an inconvenience until it is proven...
When the sun hit their helmets it startled the very souls of the natives
a signal upon their...

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'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK - so I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin...

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