Prioritize, priory.
Thy job to house the priest.
Recognize, rail, recently.
Beast, prepare the feast...
End. Everything has one?
Well, maybe. Who's to say?
Bullet magic, jumped from gun?
Hound, astound and bay.
Flickering the frosty fog?
Winter, on the road?
Lost, O traveler? Deep that bog!
Fade, fail, fiery, flowed!
Core, thy strength. Languor, thy length.
Grimace as you grip.
Water, weather, wit, wavelength.
Quahog, how you quip.
Sparingly? Cheap. Mountain, steep?
Clear me at one leap.
Rubbish bin, heap of sleep keep?
Boneyard, creep thy seep!
Golem, goals. Dead men, thy shoals.
Sandbar, ships. Done in?
Glowing from thy heat, O coals?
Eyeballs, pine to pin!
Sacrosanct, sound? Talking, trees?
Soul, ears to the breeze?
Satisfied, O deepest freeze?
No use saying please?
Treason, hast thou reason?
Panic, candlestick?
Silver, seen thy best season?
Chewed down to the wick...
Through the ages
monkish chapels have erected alters
built from human skulls.
Mystics have understood
that such morbid displays
can lead to a fervor
of jaw-dropping moments.
The human skull reminds us
that death leaves its own gravestones.
Besides,
such boneyard objects de ’art
simply beg to be made into candle holders
or useful paperweights
additionally,
a dislocated mandible
serves as a most adequate rest
for a lit cigar.
Ahead straight, my agonist!
Neuron cells, explode!
Stab at fate and give a twist!
Lava, how you glowed...
Collaboration, my son...
Is this sure for thee?
Bullet, leap! Pour smoke, my gun!
Fine and fair and free!
Truth be told, I'm terrified?
Tiger, tall grass. Hide.
Pit viper, white ankle. Pride?
Surely woe betide...
Rain down, thought-spark! Sing, O song!
Life ahead, be long...
Inspiration, strike the gong!
Wargods, scuppernong.
Heavens, calm. O hell, burn low.
Heart within, thy lull.
Boneyard, battle, bane, below.
Baleful, brazen bull?
My glow is like a grasshopper.
Signalling to send!
Fireworks, grenades, wood chopper!
Death and Doom, make bend!
Set sail for the sun! Setting!
Shop keep in the cold!
Gambler, have you been betting?
Bell city, you tolled...
Vintage wine? O wraiths a-nine!
Service you rendered!
Salt of ocean, bring thy brine!
Optimist: occurred...
Let me tell your a spooky story ... it begins on a day blue,
in a quiet and peaceful cemetery with many an angel statue.
I got there late in the afternoon walking past graves old,
as I walked the air seemed to change and I was shivering cold.
There to water flowers I rushed to get it done and leave the dead,
it was then that I heard the whispering and angels weeping red.
Then came the sighing and crying and it was scary and terrifying,
this place of the dead, this boneyard was just to horrifying.
It was becoming gloomy and misty as I passed trees ancient and knotty,
oh dear, there was a spine tingling scream and it had become foggy.
The iron gate enclosure was locked and now there was snow,
a ghostly lady said follow me as snowflakes started to blow.
O quatrain, if I would, could you?
Aren't we fancy-free?
Bolt, shock through! O baby blue!
Firewalk with me!
Ravine behind, seen in dream?
Houses of the old.
Tend thy garden on the beam!
Terror, strike them cold.
Fateful fire, thy fury.
Scurrying rat, mad mink.
Blizzard, spent in flurries?
Dragon, firebake. Bad brink.
Fates Three, Muses Nine, pain. Pine?
Dark fire, black thy shine.
Glisten, wound in back. Boil, brine.
Vampire, on death dine.
Torments of the damned? Hail, home.
Let out on the loam.
Thunder, roll above the dome.
Black bound bell and tome.
Doom, loom over. Sibyl, sense.
Golem, got sixpence?
Death-flame, burning. Manse, incense.
Recoil, confidence.
Monopolize, monologue.
Metropolis, maim.
Prick, my nerves. Human race, cog?
Downpour to disclaim.
Wren, wind. Weathervane, point. Seek.
Glow, O gibbous moon.
Plaque o'er door of boneyard, speak.
Float, O my balloon...
Ravine, art thou real?
You certainly look deep.
Thunder, o'er volcano peal!
Through the boneyard creep!
Hope, just take the night off.
O prisoner, take heed:
First you squat and then you cough.
Golden is such greed.
Emptiness, seep into me!
Flicker, fancy-free.
Time immortal, blessed be?
Sink him in the sea.
O Alliance Black Abyss:
Today I must die.
Yawning chasm, blow a kiss.
Shiver as you sigh.
Back in ancient Carthage?
O state religion, new?
Serenity, O my sage?
O agony, accrue.
Gulf within me, fissure wild.
Robot: reconciled?
Mother, father, clasp thy child.
Floor, monolith, tiled.
Dreams of our tomorrows?
I cannot miss the point.
Endless are such sorrows!
O bitter art, anoint!
Giving up? Why, yes, sir.
I do not have a clue.
Reality, whir a-blur!
Doubt and derring-do...
Politics & Religion
boneyard
of existence
Power & Corruption
misleading
in kind
Promising & Deceiving
legislation
and dogma
Politics & Religion
deathtrap
— for mankind
(The New Room: June, 2025)
Lines in lightning carved in stone?
Geoglyph, take form.
Mile behind the melee zone?
Keep the soldiers warm.
Bright beside the boreal pole?
Buildings in glass, shine.
Heaven and Hell, thy control!
Doom and Death, we dine!
Trickle, time? Riddle or rhyme?
Boxes, sheath the mime.
Dynamite, done on a dime?
Skidding in the slime...
Forlorn and forgotten?
Adventure, dare to seek?
Render red run rotten?
Ergo, the boneyard creak.
Sleek as tigers in the grass?
Dare not here to tread.
Linen round the looking-glass?
City of the dead!
Chlorophyll, do ye streaks leave?
Deceased child, bereave?
Gold, when absent, do they grieve?
Hone before you heave.
Believe what you want, scion.
Miracles abound.
Chess master, sac queen and pawn!
Flicker til you're found.
Round the vizier's chandelier?
Diamonds, sparkle grim.
Dinnertime! What do ye fear?
Crater, cone to rim...
O boulder, with pitch resin shine!
Flicker fine at night!
Fate and Fortune, thus we dine!
Sign, O line of sight!
Ichor in immortal veins?
Crenellate to hold.
No use waiting for the rains!
Sane and centrefold!
Explain, O my spark-lit brain?
Bone of throne and bane!
Blossom inward! Core and chain!
Melee, meet the main!
Gone and unreturned? We learned.
Oh, what we discerned.
Night of nail and ne'er-do-churned!
How the bodies burned...
Yellow streaks in starry sky?
Panels on the fade.
Foxfire, foment on the fly!
Beckon as ye bade!
Climate of the covenant?
Back the boneyard bright?
Feet of clay, about me plant!
Cant cerebral, kite!
Mortal life, upon the knife?
Who to target, strife?
Circumstances, rhyme or rife?
O Rhine River, fife!
Come to Now, brothers, and how!
Firewood after dark.
Compliments, O sacred cow!
Fling and flicker stark.
Could be, O my sages.
Riddles wrought in rhyme.
Time, bequeath thy ages!
Prime o'er Soul? Sublime.
Tapping on the clipboard?
Fingernail or pen?
Dragon, will ye guard thy hoard?
Fennel, fire, and fen...
Oblique? Carelessness, critique?
Frequency, catch flame!
Will the strong succor the weak?
If they want food, claim.
Catch up on thy sleep? Dig deep.
Cross the boneyard? Creep.
Preparation! Want to weep?
Stack behind the heap!
Present in the moment?
It's better that ye be.
Rebellions to foment?
Sink foemen in the sea.
Wind, rattle the weathervane!
Let the boy explain?
Yes, before we toss in main!
After a spring rain!
Educate for poppies?
Dreamers, why wile away?
Fish for gold or crappies?
O for, some sunny day.
Fright or plight? Best be polite?
Doom and dynamite!
Gods of death, thy dun delight!
Lone in line of sight...
As I gaze upon the splendor of the beach:
yellow, soft and resplendent and compliant.
I realize that it is a debris field of bones.
Of shattered shells devoid of sound-of-sea-echoes.
Of bit of crabs, seaweeds and bones of fishes ground to dust,
all gathered into an amorphous tell-tale pile.
It's congealed when wet, soft and flowing when dry.
This boneyard of bone, shell grit and bony bits,
is caressed by the wind, currents and waves into dunes, banks, bars and drifts
that are constantly played and reworked.
It is this boneyard beach which provides the perfect
barrier and margin along the shore absorbing
the thrust of storms, winds and waves
protecting it from erosion.
Like the bones in a cemetery, or a calavera
the debris field on a beach
protects and sustains the living form
with the heritage remains of the past,
remembered and put to good use.
Maxwell Montes
Dorsa Rupes
Tharsis Isiadis
managed by
Bellatrix Safran
escorted
Congreve to
the Boneyard
there they discussed his use
ability.
When Congreve asked a question
Dorsa Rupes dismissed
his concerns by saying he was
bragging and his words
were whoretorn relics
that echo among the foolish people
who idolize him.
Never answering the questions
and saying then what was
of concern didn't matter
due to his lack of interest in the topic.
He said that he committed his
concern to memory and if
recoletion would
serve him he could see his words
as more trending then interesting, so
until then he'd cite his concern as bragging
and being arrogant. As a means of song prompting one
might find such "boogie woogie refrible t other than that
such words are outlandish and trival and
lean toward bragging and making reference to studying
which then might lead to knowledge.
We can't have some people finding these words
might they began to use them.
A cracked and empty skull
makes a beautiful flower pot,
desk tidy or paperweight.
Place a nightlight in that osseus cave
and it will become a small table lamp.
Through the ages
monks have harvested skulls;
some sanctuaries and chapels
are built on human bones
and the skulls form their central alter.
Mystics understand
that this is the ultimate jaw-dropping sermon.
The human skull reminds us that death leaves
its own gravestones.
We can grin back at that once visible face
pondering its ever static tidings
to wit, that this rattling boneyard dream
simply must have its One Last Word.
Standing in a woodlot
A boneyard of fallen timbers
Lifeless they are
Warming sun on earth
Thick with bush
Bulging buds spring forth
Where violets grow
A stream - flowing low
Scarcity of winter snow
Painful to the eyes
Stands of willows gnarled
An artist records
Boneyard
Abandoned, Peaceful
Sprawling, Watching, Waiting
Still as the Night
Graveyard
July 31, 2019
**Side note: I was inspired to write a cinquain poem after my son brought one home that he had written in his English class back in 2017. I kept his poem because it was something he created for class and when I found it two years later, I thought it would be fun to try my hand at it.
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