Winter Withers
…… its way into the woods
and waits….and wonders….and watches
until…. No-one is looking.
Boorishly, an ally introduces itself,
an iced-sliced wind to quiver-shiver
the woods’ most tender saplings;
to shudder the aged evergreens
with sharpened, encrusted crystals
sandpapering the toughest, roughest bark.
Weather warning complete,
Winter then crunches forward,
cold shouldering its way through the night
to finally rest against a solitary cabin.
Inside that logged shelter, Man awakens
allowing his thoughts freedom
from the waiting room of his mind.
Man has learned how to listen,
but much more importantly,
this man has listened how to learn!
What he now sharply tells himself is…
Winter has arrived; survival demands action.
Man has lived for a year with Mother Nature
after his severance with city life;
he now feels a yearning for the three R’s:
reconnecting, refiguring and relocating.
Man can’t allow Winter’s weathered wings
to embrace him with glacial isolation
nor allow its benumbed playmate… Loneliness
to knock, again, on that fragile, front door.
Ian Souter
Categories:
boorishly, depression, nature, winter,
Form: Free verse
Man is Fearful and unapologetic
Oh yes chivalry is dead
Fair ladies and noble chivalry
Is a thing of the past?
As men board buses and trains
And small passageway
they boorishly, yelled to the ladies
Even on the freeway
To move out of the way
They had a long hard day.
the fair ladies are not timid
Or Wall flowers anymore,
They retaliate and never exhibit ladylike qualities
Therefore, men referred to them as bores , whores.
es and witches
Women!
Let us never bow and apologize
To please the non-gentlemen let them please us.
Chivalry is dead,
Let them stand on the tiptoes to foresee their future
Knowingly, it’s all there in front of them
Because most men are broken giant in all they mishaps:
Weakness by nature in all they arrogates ways.
Whom Do They Think They Are ?
Categories:
boorishly, anxiety, appreciation, betrayal, black
Form: Dramatic Monologue
She was a high born whore,
who lived luxuriously
Didn't have one ounce of compassion for the poor
She licked the seethed bones
with a viper's tongue
Guillotine parlor games fed her bloodlust for doing wrong
Marie Antoinette
was as stone cold-hearted
as they get
When told there was a famine in the land,
and the people had no bread to make
She boorishly replied: Well, let them eat cake
Life under her evil reign was pure living hell,
thus the people rose up and violently rebelled
So she suffered a most indelicate fate,
got her head lopped off ...
sweet justice served on a pie plate
Categories:
boorishly, death, fear, history, judgement,
Form: Verse
When conformists' adherence to
irksome, empty, shallow, hollow
obsolete rules
overrides unadulterated substance...
imported intuitive works
of essence, potence...spirit
When lettered law
obscures, obliterates
disintegrates
vital verve
When egotistical opinion
ascends higher, reigns over...
tramples on authentic art
This is when I dispose and disclose
I hold scant esteem for form...
mundane reins
colorless, humdrum
lackluster genre
or those whose swollen ego
is entirely, absolutely
engrossed and entombed
in them
Genuine unfeigned expression
shatters traditionalists'
trivial thrashing trash
Veritable voices resound
thunder, reverberate
resonate
in spite of outdated
highly esteemed
decadent modalities
education... influence
bound, chained
shackled, inhumed
by absurd vanities
veritably pluming pride
ignorance and arrogance
boorishly dispatching
meaningless, lifeless
senseless, worthless
drivel
Categories:
boorishly, angst, culture, freedom, voice,
Form: Free verse
Man is Fearful and unapologetic
Chivalry is dead
Fair ladies and noble chivalry
Is a thing of the past?
Men board buses and trains
And small passageway
and boorishly, say to the ladies
especially on the freeway
To move out of their way
and stop backing up the highway
However, the fair ladies are not timid
those wall flowers are replace by huge egos
Today fair ladies retaliate and never exhibit ladylike qualities
Therefore, men referred to them as whores.
*****es and witches
Women! Let us never bow and apologize
Chivalry is dead,
Because man is a broken giant and in all his mishaps
Weak by nature in his arrogates ways.
would it never end, it all depends
Whom do they think they are ?
The dust from the falling stars
Categories:
boorishly, funny, urban,
Form: I do not know?
What sibilant consonants
conjure his image: angular, Germanic,
uttering phrases and grunts, monosyllables
forcefully spat into air alive,
filled with his vivid verbal assaults!
No saccharine sentiment for him.
He lets fly with steamy staccato
streams of purposely purple prose,
unblemished by boorishly banal
concern for social civilities.
Squeamishness never slept next to him!
But notice (not noticeably, please)
how his eyes seem furtively to flit
from yours, to gaze down at his hands,
pale and strangely delicate -- graceful!
And his cheeks are dusted with a blush,
under eyes not steely blue but liquid brown.
Categories:
boorishly, confusion, introspection, life, people,
Form: Free verse