Best Septa Poems

Loves the Dead


My mother loves the
dead she has a curious
fascination with the
dead.

She loves to attend
the funerals of
family members
and even strangers.

My mother is the
first person to call 
and talk endless
about the dead.

Does not matter if
she does not know
these dead people
but she cries tears
of sorrow as if...

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Break,break,break on the cold,gray septa
(the veil is ripped and so am I)
\Fern sundered amongst the 
Daffodils,dandelions and diadems tarnished 
With the oxidation of time and tide
That waits for no man.
\Well here I am
The littlest seraph of Sodom
(what did they do in Gomorrah?)
Blow horns and sack...

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It was a domestic pain,
when we came apart in boots and helmets.
Taking the shine away, moon gave up the fight
on lake, against the clouds, a sniper
intuitingly, started a homicidal blasting
to start the rains.
 
An ode to sepia needs scrutiny;
cuttlefish had a second thought. No faith
permits...

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Can somebody please give this uber **** fuller a lyft?
alternately titled: jump starter for clunky, junky,
quirky, xyz mechanic wanted in tow tow -
chassis what I mean?)

As the proud graduated
honorably rolled 2009 Hyundai
Sonata vehicular property
belonging to a mister
and missus Matthew Harris
(fifty shades of gray

if that makes...

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It was a domestic pain,
when we came apart in boots and helmets.
Taking the shine away, moon gave up the fight
on lake, against the clouds, a sniper
intuitingly, started a homicidal blasting
to start the rains.
 
An ode to sepia needs scrutiny;
cuttlefish had a second thought. No faith
permits...

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Tapering to a point
time pierces the veil
Unharvested moments
a gardener’s tale  
Dug from the furrows
a voice has been freed
Whose final word spoken  
—eternity’s seed

(Septa R5: June, 2023)...

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Never to discover
the limits of soul
Such is the depth 
of its station

The nature of being
not what’s distilled
But what’s left
— from evaporation

(Septa R5: March, 2025) 
...

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When you have money
the world stops to listen
The content no matter
gratuity bound

The dollars indulgent
as charlatans glisten
Self-interest the mantra
— with greed to compound

(Septa R5 Train: January, 2025)
...

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A harrowing drive on the Schuylkill Expressway
(route 76) both heading into
(and a small number of hours later
exiting) center city Philadelphia
to Schwenksville on May 19th, 2024.

Yours truly (a doodling Yankee), and the missus
went to town, NOT riding on a pony,
NOR did I stick a feather in...

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On the back side of deliverance,
our paths fated to cross

Your road going toward the light,
my direction all but lost

You stopped and turned toward me,
looking deeply in my eyes

Pity mixed with latent fear
—my fate so redefined

(Septa R5: February, 2020)...

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Intellectual larceny
the academic elite
Immune from indictment
inured and effete
They swing their false knowledge
like weapons to maim
The truth left in ashes
— their lies to inflame

(Septa R5: February, 2024)
...

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Seeing — Unseeing
the words drift away
far into the current
of what’s left to say

Passing my cortex
and into the void
where blind recognition
awaits to destroy

Familiar or foreign
once stopped in their tracks
new meaning escapes
with no looking back

The Poet’s eyes squinting
as light filters out
transcendence recaptured
ascendance remounts 

Through slivering darkness
a vision...

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That ulcer
in his 
consciousness
bleeding
to be heard
A canker
of a 
muted past
abscessing
every word

Cold sores
of detention
that fade
but never
cure
A virus
of his 
hopes and dreams
recurring
— untoward

(Septa R5 Train: May, 2024)
...

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Bending a breaking point
rupturing time
Eons of history
skirting the line

Paradox native
our true D.N.A.
Truth as a concept
forever in play

Yessing and noing    
transfixed in between
The jester in transit
all canons demeaned

Freeing the moment
 the first wedded last
a twist to the turning
—where memory contrasts

(Septa R5 To 30th...

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