Best Klieg Poems

A dead star that inspired this poem--the companion of the star 55 Cancri, in the constellation of Cancer the Crab--has now shrunk to only about twice the size of earth yet is extraordinarily massive, leading astronomers to conclude that its surface and outer crust consist...

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X Continues Marking Many Spots
                        by Odin Roark

Anonymous living suits many,
gypsy fever of the brain.

Seldom hiding in the shadows,
the glare of klieg-light...

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Amplified beauty characterizes deeply evoked feelings gotten here,
in June's klieg-light,
lighting many nation of plants,
quietly rendering senses towards utopia,
vanquished with xanthophyll.
Yellow zoophytes!!...

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Who knows whence the measurement 
of time came about, though this chap 
proposes the following general happen
stance. Perhaps psalm body named Judas 
Priest arranged to congregate, but cohorts 
restless (sans Quiet Riot), did Accept 
a Mercyful Fate asper their Iron Maiden pact, 

but needed to...

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After dark, the prosaic comes alive
morphed by a klieg lit stage—
at once, both peaceful and kinetic.

A neon world of predator and prey,
through my viewfinder
garish greens and vivid reds
play with the afterglow of twilight sky.

I try to capture saccharin sweetness
and the promise of forbidden fruit.
I thrill...

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Celebrity Dreamscapes

Washington
Wall Street
Hollywood
Nashville

Where regurgitation overflows
And Barmecidal bait boxes
Morph their delights by the hour

All the while

Gluttony's promised feast
Ignorant of cyclic famine
Awaits the pernicious fate-agent
Scouting to burrow like a weevil
The new crop of innocence

Trusting destiny to the winds of chance
Confident redolent success smells
French perfume
Garlic enhanced delicacies
Fresh tanned...

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What pride and joy for me to delight,
albeit vicariously upon receiving invite,
sans commencement at
Redmond Proficiency Academy
on May twenty second at six o'clock at night,
which arrangement to Maurice silly revel 

from afar, viz pomp and circumstances quite
emotional, ah...I can feel exuberance
listening to Sir Edward
Elgar - Pomp...

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The missus unflagging crocheting efforts as Betsy Ross incarnate

With needle in hand incorporating love
in every single crochet stitch
that's my wife
tad more'n a quarter century ago
then newlywed to yours truly
slowly, magically but inexorably
transforming skein of yarn
into requested end product
of her tastefully done choice.

Eventual inchoate objective
will become...

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Paris is so beautiful, that it’s emotional,
like the red tile roofs of Rome,
or the Kenroku-en gardens of Japan.

It’s a relatively large world.
Whenever you can fly over an ocean
you feel limitless, and godly,
like the world is there for you, on demand.

Speaking of God-like views, I’m headed
to...

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Night Light 


The last visitor before I sleep
is always the old priest
puffing up the stairs to my door, 
a wine cask under each arm, 
a loaf of pumpernickel in his teeth.
He’s always too late to give the last rites,
and even though I’m usually dead by...

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Rags To Threadbare Tatters...
(a true “FAKE” story
how Mein Kampf - chill as hoary
frost – and totaling lacking glory.)

A woeful disgraceful
cautionary tale stitched
     from the barest thread
harkens back half life
     of yours truly
     comprising...

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Attempt to shine
     flickering figurative klieg light
with the help of hyperbole
     on poverty wrought
debutante material, this predicated
     on my own unbiased thought
initially related during
     my early boyhood,

  ...

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POETIC PREFACE:

An inner conflict dust brew
within this scribe, who offers ye to chew
(like sweet treats metaphorically) thee do
tee incumbent, when Doomsday clock
counts down minutes few
according Al Gore rhythm
unstoppably ticking,
when life gets turned to global goo
tenderized viz Doctor Zeus
if not Horton Hears Hoo
then most definitely The...

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We sense a distant throb like drums of war,
Hear whistles, shrill, precede firm lifeguards’ cry,
“Get out!” as drops, way off, slant down and pour;
Look there!—chill, sudden gust, umbrellas fly,
Tense mothers rush, all eyes upon gray sky,
To youngsters trembling, safe from surf and sea;
Harsh cracking whip,...

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Hyperbolic quasi autobiographical prevarication...
caricature sketch of person best known to yours truly

What began as an honest 
to goodness attempt 
to craft personal truthful profile
evolved into a fictional poem
manifested into the following.

Despite the onslaught of paparazzi,
I (an eccentric kindhearted sexagenarian -
born January xiii, mcmlix
at The Christ...

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