Best Fergus Poems
outside lies the snow
each flake its own uniqueness
beginning descending moisture, bifurcation
eructing tendrils, forming, unpredictable
as is the dichotomy of life
the triumph against entropy
limbs lie empty, skeletons
leaves of feathered frost
birds are few
lost in the hemispheres, patterns
and for all the answers
more questions await in chaos
the quest for God's hand
wondering thru the majesty
this white coat of winter
where beneath the monotony
lies the uniqueness of creation
the snowflake and i share something
the ubiquitousness that is God
it is struggle enough
to understand this hand
some things in my life
were meant to be accepted
winter
God
Fergus Fall 96
is this then my fate
watching the scurrying crabs
rearranging sands, counting the waves
the wary eyes of the magnificent frigates above
your eyes were to me
exotic birds of aquamarine
whose free flight
stole my thoughts
my breath
my heart
now i have a horizon
where the world disappears
the universe begins
azure is more than a color
how ironic
how often said
love is blue
herein are only remembrances
of shared happiness
a gentleman never tastes bitterness
in what was not meant to be
i had a professor once, well more than once
who explained that we needed
to reach into the depth of being
to write poetry
that sentiment was to be avoided
as some shunned member of society
a useless masked whore
this poem is my gift to you
not to impress a world i could care less about
but to validate the point
sentiment is the foundation of poetry
innate to the heart's wings in the quill
that fills the dreams within
or walks in mourning upon the beach
Fergus Falls 2000
on Youtube:
Tom Waits - "The One That Got Away"
Down here you will see
The remains of Fergus McKenzie
Who wanted to live fancy free
Mrs. McKenzie didn't agree
A funny epitaph poetry contest
Sponsored by: Jesse Rowe
9/12/18
the children wait on the shore
eyes fastened to the horizon
behind them stand the women
with a gaze far more serious
all impervious to rain and wind
the hurricane had turned inland
last night it was moving north to Baja
the fishermen left with ease
it would soon be gone
yet, early in the morning, it moved east to Nayarit
chaotic nature, in the end reigns supreme, it always has
in the distance dots appear, fishermen driven home
as the storm rages over them
children and women frantically search
the returning pongas for any familiarity
as the fishermen struggle valiantly in the waves
tonight some prayers are bearing fruition
while others were lost to an angry sea
a storm none could predict
nor ever will with certainty
the candles burn at the feet of the dead
now plaster saints, imploring continues
long into the night, a chance of perchance
that bird that sings in the worst gale
morning brings the tolling of church bells
amidst the devastation
faces who will never forget that chaos
has no favorites
only illusions, as matter, may well be, Berkeley rocks
the luck of the draw, despite Darwins' wishful design
the ensuing fluctuating schemes of pandemonium
desultory forces who at best are deficit in reason
or are they, who knows the breadth of creation
a constant reminder, the precarious hold life has
how delicate the day we the biota share
how precious life is
i learned that long ago from a little tippler
leaning on a dying sun
toasting with manzanilla the heavens above
cursing some matelot beneath her labored breath
now the nobody we all are when the light extinguishes
receding within into singularity
and whatever wormhole we exit will never matter
nor the dimensions therein
gone, as the smoke from an extinguished candle
escaping forever into the entropy
where matter never perishes
Fergus Falls 96 The Patient Stones
how often in my writing i see Emily Dickinson appear....i have often fantasized about pursuing her heart
THE DAY FERGUS THE FROG CROAKED
(A Children's Rhyme by Joan Donnelly Ellis Oct. 2015)
Fergus the Frog was lazy and fat and a worshipper of idleness
He'd lie on his lily pad all day ...refusing to work ....didn't care to play.
Had no interests...no not one.
One afternoon a visit to the swamp Uncle Fred made
Saying Fergus you are useless and better off in a grave
Precisely in that moment a crocodile scooped Fergus up
Both Lily pad and frog slid in croc's mouth headed for lockup
Croc closed his mouth on the pair as Fergus kissed his rump
As croc swallowed his noon day snack of shiftless frog juicy and plump
That's precisely when the reptile begin to jump
He leapt to a branch on a very small tree
Where lizards and snakes slithered to get free
Then crashed head first in the mud down below
He lie there stunned for a moment and rose real slow
He coughed so hard out from his open mouth flew a slimy green lump
It was Fergus the Frog that staggered to the nearest stump
Then crashed on the lathered shore
With a heave and sigh critters watched him die
Now Fergus Frog is no more
O circus, circus
the ox and his Fergus.
The whale took a bite of the moon.
The carnivore gasped to see that chomp.
And the pig civilized the baboon.
i watch you sleep
wondering where you are
the hair
falls down to the cheeks
spilling upon the pillows
moon intrudes
throwing shadows around
our cat stirs
your mouth is slightly open
as if you are about to whisper
i hear the violins leap in joy
the piano lights from key to key
on the streets, the brass hurries
my heart absorbed in love's symphony
and still, you sleep, turn
i curl into that curve
two pieces to a puzzle
that no longer puzzles me
my arm slowly enfolds you
you the automaton
grasp my hand
pull it to you
that lonely electron, out of orbit
now secure
as i listen to the symphony
no one hears
your beating heart calms my senses
a puppy drifts into sleep
secure as they only are
dream of wolves in forests deep
running free in lands that time forgets
this will be the last breath i breathe
dropping deliciously off me
as i enter the realm of Lethe
to wait for you
as first light dances across the face
breathless as your eyes open
claim my first kiss as dawn intrudes
makes the night's journey
worth every moment
where the present is a present
the gift of you
the symphony that walks me
thru the night
Fergus Falls 2/00
Romantic poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings. Poetry to romantic poets is not a craft but an inspiration. The poet does not care for the perfection of form or clarity of expression. The romantic poets laid emphasis on imagination, inspiration, and emotion. It is the expression of the inner urges of the soul of the artist. The poet gives free expression to his feelings, emotions, experiences, thoughts, and ideas and does not care for rules and regulations. The emphasis is laid on inspiration and intuition.
we awoke to five machine guns
staring at us
all were American made
therein a comfort
another American in a foreign land
the caveat, Federales were holding them
we were naked
Sally from the Alley and i
wanted to ask us a few questions
i made my way to my pants
promising God, if you would
get me out of this one
i will never touch another drop
the caveat, never promise in haste
as she arose
five machine guns followed her
half-naked across the room
the caveat, opportunity invites celerity
quickly i slipped my grip on the rum
two swallows down
Paul's epistle to Timothy
a little wine for thy stomach's sake
and your frequent ailments
such as my hangovers
on the other bed lay
Tennyson, Kerouac, Yeats, Dickinson
playing deaf and dumb
along with a quarter pound of smoke
i will give you five to one
they take the smoke
and leave the poets alone
the caveat, they did
well gentlemen say i
none spoke English
i will give you five to one
i will get out of this
God pities drunks and idiots
already two get-out-of-jail-free cards
i did after hours of questioning
a refresher course on Mexican law
and the realization come morning
the reason for all of this
i would be burying another friend
because of alcohol
just when you have life figured
it slaps the smile away
Fergus Falls 96 The Patient Stones
“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom...You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.” William Blake, Proverbs of Hell
trust is a precious gift
once broken
we may never repair
shards that cut to the bone
a heart empties
love is sometimes
at its best a vertiginous climb
of heavens and hells
so enduring yet fragile
a bouquet graced vase
becomes the mistake
lying on the floor
the detritus of a receding faith
why is it sometimes
i can feel his footsteps
walking away from our bed
and i do not really care
you are his paramour
so why not mine
i go to the zoo
watch monkeys copulate
work on acceptance
animals possess an honesty
humanity rarely achieves
such is life at times
deposits you at its doors
with a horizon of jaundiced eyes
where faith struggles with its death
join hands with perfidious Janus
Fergus Falls 96
Like a mess of hooting school kids freed for vacation,
They come honking and scolding
Long before you see them they come honking and scolding
Hidden from sight by leafy trees,
They are loudly scolding, urging, bragging,
“Get flapping”. “My turn to lead.” “Your turn to lead. “Let Fergus lead,”
I imagine.
When at last overhead I can see them and they are honking, without rhythm.
Honking, and forming lines;
A long line at first, a perfect line,
Then a splinter slides astride
And two perfect lines form, a skewered vee.
A flying wing it is now, yawing left, and then yawing right,
Sensing the wind’s direction, its velocity,
Looking for a helping wind. Looking for a lift.
And honking and scolding.
They pass behind more leafy trees and they are gone,
Still honking and scolding,
Still searching for the streaming air.
And going southward.
i was searching for survivors
in all the right places, finding none
my deepest wishes dissipating
probably for the best i always tell myself
watching it come apart
was half the pleasure
as well as half the pain
never needing a rhyme, nor a clue
and will leave none here
it is best these parts are played
upon non-existent fields
where the scores are left to the wind
turning in the snow, heel to toe
the season is leaving
soon the angels where we laid
will fill the gutters
from there to stream and river
flowing into a vast and nameless sea
in depths where light never graces
the seasons have no meaning
and time gives an illusion
of just another corner
one more step into yet another direction
prime numbers and infinity
seeking some perfection
in depths that only darken memory
the shadows within reality
where chemical reactions replace the light
the warm human touch
and deaden the senses
when the winds whisper a name
and the integers fill the day
no different than the insanity you bring
to a table set for one
Fergus Falls 2000
you spoke of boundaries
allowed me but secret gates
acknowledged only in the shadows
my ability to separate your reason
from your logic
and that is what you
never cared for in me
words
you gave me many
that idled away
i loved you with blindness
i have but betrayed myself
but my desires desire no more
the curtain has fallen on the soliloquy
time to take the bow and leave
there are no floral arrangements
waiting in the dressing room
only the emptiness that was always there
this has you clinging
to what is already gone
desire is an empty street
where there is no address
the morning light never touched
upon your breasts
and in the end
we were emptiness
the worst of kindred spirits
sometimes when i look away
and i cannot remember her flower
there is a part of heaven in oblivion
where neuropathways slowly die
Fergus Falls 95 The Patient Stones
the conversations are rolled into the corners
stretching into a fifth dimension
perpendicular to all points
this is where i love you
curled back upon itself
unavailable to the eye
the physicist’s graven image
produced at energy levels
no longer on demand
counterfeited
lying useless on the floor
moments escaping
till you do
back into the visible spectrum
where the colored quarks
come to rest upon
a mask i have come to know
all too well
and given up all hope
of ever removing it
we chat in silence
the quietude in our pervading existence
is what we ultimately share
the empty spaces between galaxies
collisions that are temporarily ignored
a cosmos enveloped in its own existence
a life to be never seen
conjectures upon a table filled with mathematics
and nothing more
the weak force begetting pyrite
once radiant and full of promise
now lies a barren moonscape
awaiting expulsion, embers now ashes
fate in the coming winds
Fergus Falls 2000
another Bukowski nightmare begins
the castrato sings below
while she calls from the minaret
fossicking thru the memories
for our linked verse
while i, sitting beneath the coolabah
river on the run
waiting for some rabbit or Alice
oh incorrigible moon
have you no mercy this night
see the parade pass, the ithyphallic
the trilithon collapsing, time and gravity
another turgid, erubescent symbol deflated
another thought buried by time
and mine to waste
o moon so incorrigible
teach me not emotion
let me revel in callosity
let the mirror play tu quoque
let it speak for once
scream from the inner scotopia
where the predatism scutters
read to me another confessional poet
those in need
of yet another minie ball, open oven door
fill the pockets with rocks and rockets
o god more, more misery
rise and hail your innermost misery
you must suffer for literature
tempus fugit is a lead pipe cinch
that is the diphthong the calliope
never fails to sail thru
while surds and sonants bounce the walls
the coffee shop lustrum, ideomotion
learn to unlearn
supine beneath the coolabah
river on the run
waiting for a rabbit or Alice
the urge for frottage
pushes us beyond logic and reason
suffering polyphagia between the limbs
where the eyes drool in
bushes of void commandments
now postmodernism
and i are even
i refuse to die for this revolution
i refuse the pitiful pitfalls
life's a grand adventure
taking in ever larger measures
i refuse to fail its call
i refuse
i refuse
hand me that bottle of rum
let's think about this
Fergus Falls 97