Best Fulls Poems
deal with it
i will not let my emotions
be monitored
this is me
if you do not like the
fire
stay away
i am me
so why not enjoy
if it were left up to me
society would be ignored
i would fly to you in my
widows' weeds with hand-
fulls of forget me nots
i would wear a purple veil
to obscure the depth of
my sorrow
or not
i would hook you
in the eyes and say
hi. why me flatly
with nuance
i would move myself
into your space
and waste us both
without dignity
i would use your arms
around me to grieve
if , only if, it were
left up to me
It was May Day and Beltane was the time
Druid Arwn with flowing mane his Grove did call
With upraised arms he did chant in ancient rime
The Sun God ascendeth, but the Solstice marketh his fall!
The 21 of Jun, Alban Hefin will be in the heavens
And crown him we will at his highest peak.
So go forth my orders of Incantations and covens
And hollyhock, and mandrake, and oaken mistletoe seek.
Cut down these herbs as Tanith rides on high
With sickle of gold as you mount on white bulls
Destined at Solstice to bleed and to die
At the moment holy Henge with Sol's light fulls
So gather we will on the 20th of Jun
At the dale of the Henge at the rise of the Moon
To the centre of the circle we'll go up the ramp
We'll set up a pentagram and there we will camp.
As the Heel bathes in glory with the rays of the sun
We'll offer our bulls to the Lord of the Day
Send up our chants and surely have fun
And prepare for Alban Arthan - Lord of the Fey.
~25 May 2016~
I often wonder why
when darkness fulls the day
and rain comes in a way
to pour down from the sky
torrentially then die
and leave a scene so gray
Let rain bring on a song
a patter and a beat
like happy dancing feet
to tap and sing along
and feel like you belong
on stage with the elite
so rain can give a sign
that everything’s just fine
September 1, 2015
A tribute to an old movie
Here I sit on the beach's grey sand
as the sun begins to set.
Another day is complete...come what may.
The gentle sea breeze kisses my face,
as I pull my blanket around me snugly.
My hair dancing playfully.
I close my eyes and let my mind drift away,
as I hear the seagulls cry overhead
and the waves breaking in a hypnotic rhythm.
I scoop up hand fulls of dry sand
and let it slip through my fingers like granulated sugar.
Breathing in the fresh salty air,
I feel the suns warmth upon my face...
as all the days tension melts away.
It is one of those moments in time that shall be tucked away,
to be retrieved sometime in the future...
when my mind and body needs to escape
the stress of everyday life.
P.R.Deremer
A long time ago this scene unfolded as I traveled from place to place
As I look back from my values I hold dear today, it's entirely a different race
Every persons walk is unique and holds many a lesson
Some to share openly and others are for confessen
Wake up somewhere in an alley behind a trash dumpster or in a doorway
Depends on your luck the night before if it was foreplay or poorplay
You may have scored a job to load delivery trucks with that smooth Gallo wine
That would net you a cool twenty and slip a bottle in the pocket made you feel just
fine
So when you got off work you had some money
But you didn't spend it on women because white port was your honey
You could rent a room for five dollars a day and buy peanut butter and bread
The rest for some wine or brandy or whiskey maybe a beer and you were totally fed
Now you were confident you likely had some work and pay every day
If you don't get sent out on a job you can sell blood was your ace the other way
Somedays you would switch and work during the day
But your style was no different you needed daily pay
So you worked at the slave market is what the common name is
Always minimun pay and very little quiz
You could have been a bank robber or a serial killer
Made no difference you just wrote on the paper what ever would fill er
No one was ever going to check to see if you had just graduated from Yale
Or had done something real bad and just got out of jail....
So once in a while you just wanted to change locations for no particular reason
Except maybe the biggest if you slept out you preferred a fair season
If it were two in the morning somewhere and you had the shakes
You knew how to locate a doctor down the alley and pay what it takes
So after many bus rides and alleys and stomach fulls and heartaches
I use a different doctor now and he's not in the alley, we play for much higher stakes
Almost
I will this bleakness sorrow's brow to fold,
I cannot carry numbers forth this day
Or any other
or too sumit more than this remorseful word: Almost,
A term that sums the sun’s decay, the stars in disarray;
No more to me, they say, than syntax is rendered mute
Under this cover of the night.
The source of all this finery, this canopy display, such
Reverberations flow, such confusion in the know, we
Bite our lips and stare at stones that float above our heads;
We clench our throats and dodge a bullet to find comfort
In a can of milk, a woman’s smile,
We dart the planes of circumstance, we walk a crooked mile,
In wonder of the doing,
In all, our nature’s ruined – by mocking every best intention.
All our aching, all our sounds to fill the void.
I shout: Almost!
It echoes far from skies above,
In hope and bail fulls above;
I sense it in the air,
Thick it falls from mourning,
Love—grasp all you seek and share it –
It is almost everywhere.
Mama, it is raining, do you hear
There is no clothes wetting on the line
And leaking roof for me to repair
But I would yield all this dry of mine
If you were still, if you were still here
It would repair my peace of mind
To see the coals glow red with your breath
And smell the vapor of evening supper
The garnished fish and the mouth all wet
The bended knees and long solemn prayer
The sky as a vase with evening and sunset
Mama, memory fulls me now more than dinner
I had to take the tram today—
It was full,
almost.
The only seat was beside this cute little thing.
She had on a jersey six sizes too large,
at least.
Then I saw why,
as the little guy underneath kept
squirming and stretching.
I really didn’t notice that small
silent but deadly which I obviously passed,
but she did.
Oh my God!!
I think she more looked it than said it.
It had hardly cleared her lips when
she closed her eyes, clamped her teeth and grimaced.
Once again composed,
almost.
Oh please, go.
Just go somewhere else and sit.
Lady, there is no where else.---
I don’t care, just M-O-V-E,
said between clinched teeth.
You have a problem.
No, lady, you have a problem.
What I have is—
gas.
Well, take your gas up on top.
I can hardly breathe and my baby
just really bit me hard, please,
just go to the back, go to the top,
I don’t care-- just go.
Lady, in case you haven’t looked lately
I can reach out and get hand fulls of snow
from the top of this tram.
It is colder out side than in your bedroom.
It’s cold.
The silent but deadly had suddenly wafted
back to the front of the bus as it made the
previous stop.
It was on me now and it was bad.
There were people every where with bleary eyes,
fanning their noses and moving their heads
from side to side, seeking any small relief.
I envied the wee one still inside the jersey,
nestled up against those two perpetual
food banks, keeping him warm, fed and cozy.
That was a cool idea and I had never seen it before.
Ok, lady, you win.
I’ll get off at the next stop.
But something just wasn’t right.
That was not a “silent but deadly” I smelled.
I mean, if there is one thing I know,
it’s my own gas and that was not mine.
She must have read my thoughts because she turned red.
Pulling the neck band up to her forehead,
I could see her ears turning purple,
as the bus slowed for the next stop.
Without saying a word she put her arms straight out
interlacing her fingers, checking those nails.
She moved her hands underneath junior for support,
moved slowly to the door and got off.
Ironically the smell went away.
© 18 Nov 2010 For Desiree's Epiphanies contest
Shaken snow globe disarray
Stark format unfamiliar
Relocated mountain ranges
Jacket assets of chameleon
Wobbled flesh given for return
Eyeballers display dollars
Fixated focus planted firm
Subject unacknowledged
Drifting body parts ignite
Lust of lurid possibility
From actuality retired
Maggot eaten depravity
Gyraters' slip into depiction
Resigned, pilot drives auto
Puckered faces maintain rhythm
Minds' contents, peeled potato
Stiletto gripping charicature
Formed from Adam's vital rib
Collared stilled near provocatuer
Audience outcome pathetic
Satirical image conjured as ideal
Patron clean faced gullible
Sensation powders scene unreal
Hand fulls of snowballs - impossible!
stomach is swollen
his first meal in two fulls weeks
life breathes in his eyes
weaver’s
spindle fulls the cloth
teasel
Note: Scottish thistles were once used by weavers as spindles.
Liken rejection to the most revolting vile taste known to man.
Remember back to childhood, your very least favorite dish,
Recall how anticipation of this food caused a queasy stomach,
You would have given anything to avoid the dreaded enemy.
Forced at long last to face the table you’d gather up courage,
Employed crafty strategies such as hiding morsels in a napkin,
Faking a sudden illness, or pocketing vulgar hand fulls unseen.
Finally coerced to swallow mouth full after sickening mouth full,
Quickly trying not to throw up hoping to endure your punishment.
So easy and obvious it is to draw a comparison now as an adult,
Always frantically running terrified from all forms of rejection,
Choosing denial or simply turning off your emotional taste buds.
Everyone must weather this horrid gut-wrenching gull occasionally.
Curiosity presses me to ask what awful flavor is rebuff for you?
Is it unbelievably sour like drinking fresh squeezed lemon juice,
Puckering your mouth, twisting up your face, causing watery eyes?
Maybe it’s unreasonably sweet bringing on instant dizzying nausea.
Does it catch in your throat like a partially chewed bite of meat,
Choking, gagging, suffocating causing discomfort and panic?
For some it might even be a spicy hot flaming irrupting volcano,
Burning all the way down, then smoldering painfully for days.
Could it be like eating salt turning your mouth into a desert,
Cracked lips a parched tongue desperately crave cold water?
Others find it as cooked okra unpleasant slimy and fowl,
Oozy squishy slippery goo repulsive difficult to swallow.
With some foods it’s the texture or an unappealing smell,
Still more have memories attached very painful to tell.
It is human nature to avoid foods we don’t care for,
As with rejection which most people strongly abhor.
these places
have keys
the doors are open
you don't need it, the key
what do you want
once you get inside this or that room?
as you sift through these boxes, drawers
room fulls of people, these faces
you only barely see, touch, or smell them...
working them over is easy, you go about
who in particular are you looking for?
any one? what do you want to find?
so many say what you want to hear
some planning their attack with
as many a hand will soften you up
feeding you their figs and lamb
I see how your eyes move to and from
I hear how your voice does that thing
I see how you choose, to walk or speak or not to sing
sometimes displayed above your head
a sign
what are you looking for?
the key that's in your hand
the note that's on the track
where the arrowhead points
the way is clear
what do you want from them
for the moment ....
you flirt for their attachment?
to get close to the knives at the edge of the piers?
to discard someone or to have some
just fall away
others are dragged along
not ever knowing, showing
how you really care
who you really are
12/30/12
Life is ups and it's downs,
it's shorts and it's longs
It's crooks and it's straights,
it's rights and it's wrongs
It's emptys and it's fulls,
it's hots and it's colds
It's nows and it's thens,
it's youngs and it's olds
It's darks and it's brights,
it's hards and it's softs
It's evers and it's nevers,
it's onces and it's ofts
It's goods and it's bads,
it's dirtys and it's cleans
It's happys and it's sads,
it's nices and it's means
It's alls and it's nones,
it's belows and it's aboves
It's hugs and it's kisses,
it's hates and it's loves
It's beginnings and it's endings,
it's slows and it's fasts
It's questions and it's answers,
it's firsts and it's lasts
It's rounds and it's squares,
it's befores and it's afters
It's ins and it's outs,
it's tears and it's laughter
It's all of these things rolled up in a shell
So have yourself a good one, and I wish you well
Elaborate me through your fields
Thorny planks of melting teals
Grey as a thunder under blue
Dry me upon the full moons
Quench me at the brink fulls
Then cast me down again
Crawly I move reaching you
Throughly I hinder your muse
Reinvoke your coats under pink
Recall every gesture of my drink
And I drink again
Every step I take alone
I witness your tear
At every prone I fade
At every whim I struggle to retake
Pitting me by whole at the stake
And I recall my every whim
By glows and sparks when I deem
A reform of a new position feather fall
Every crunch of bittersweet bugly hole
Every fiend by their maze they growl
Stealing stones by their bridge from every troll
I reinvoke your gust under my cloud
Beds of justice as spikey as a spark
Tens of justice as a tinder stark
Pens of clumsiness
Darey dears of a mandate
Neary flows a drop so sweet
Feary tons of tonal just
Dreary dear at my side
So the pink fumes a new side
I flow to form at the opposite fight
I glow to source to recompensing light
To reuse by your drops
With the infinite crops