Best Rattlers Poems

A man named Ben stood on a slope looking at the gates of hell,
He swore they’d never turn back, him and his best friend Del.
They...

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There’s a desert sage northwest of here
In a town called Sugarville,
Not on the top of a mountain
Nor even a humble hill.

This sage lives on the...

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Thomas was walking through his favorite part of the forest,
where the overturned giant oak tree has been a sitting spot
for him since childhood, the part...

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Mornings fade into evenings, evenings slip into nights.
Day colors spill from their pails, then seep into
valleys, wind caves and shale.

The Painted Desert bleeds into a...

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Out west, near Black Hills, over South Dakota way,
On land where layered rocks records eons before –
Some thieves rode the badlands that hot steamy day.

Rough...

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When I was skinned

I made a little list-

Call it (Something Here) :

It started out,

'I am getting older,

what should I do? '

Like go on the road,

Actually...

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Since the Garden of Eden and Cleopatra,
snakes strike great fear in man
I have it—ophidiophobia---
legless lizards equal repulsion
 
Slithering, sliding as they move
something about friction and...

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I had a dream — 
different ... dark ... obscure
Mine’s wasn’t like Martin Luther King,
it was different
So very dark to the core
In my dream I...

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EXFOLIATION, I AM      
 
In my advanced age am I but 
       The castoff--remnants...

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sweet pungent odor
fermented hay 
dark and warm
slithers of light spit
through the cracks of the
warped weathered wood
old pie tin lies in the dirt 
in its corner
where...

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winds chill the bones and rattle the teeth of the those who dare stand in the cold, 
when there's a shield blocking the chills, the...

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There's a cold box canyon, where a heart once lived. 
Smooth walled with a choir of ghosts.
Holding the echos of yesterday's love.
where scorpions and rattlers...

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I make a list of A words; thinking an alliterative poem would do today.
A cobra falls from the sky and lands in my hair with...

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She lives in the desert
with skin the color of sandstone
and the texture of an orange.
She’s a man’s man if you ever saw one.
Her carbine seems...

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He never brooked a lie that couldn’t be spoken
Spiffed up with a good spit shine
Tin promise made was a buffalo wooden token
Re-tale sale, it ain’t...

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