I scale the jagged crags on wings of whispered verse,
and strew my path with beauties freshly born.
Unhindered I invade the marble palaces,
armed with weapons forged within this mortal frame.
I draw the gleaming sword from its ancient sheath,
and pierce the tyrant’s heart with keenest blade;
I sever every cable of his fragile throne,
and watch his trembling empire fade to shade.
Like eagles I ascend on currents of pure thought,
where coruscating gleams of insight dance and play.
I drink the silent music of the waking world,
and roam through fierce, uncharted shades in search of hidden jewels.
Though pulses quicken with the chill of fear or doom,
I stand caparisoned in courage, undismayed.
I see vast legions trapped within their frantic race,
blind to the filth that stains their fleeting days.
Oh, that they might awaken while the ink still flows
how brief the hour, how vague these shadowed moments!
Yet poetry, in her quiet majesty,
captures but a chosen few, and lets the rest drift on.
The clarinet waves touched the moon.
He walked like a rooster in the moonlight,
bewitched by the music and the light. The
caparisoned elephants swayed their heads
to the drumbeats. A dozen half-naked virgins
danced around a bronze devil. “Human smell!”
Everything vanished in the blackout. That
escaped fisherman appeased the dark deity…
With a wavering voice and goose-bumps,
my wizened neighbor recounts thus the
myth behind the coastal festival. I enjoy
the false beauty. There is no analyzer in
his thinking system. Superstition is highly
inflammable in his illiterate inland. Such
beliefs flourish here in the thick Fantasy
Forest, where the reason rays never fall.
First published in The Literary Hatchet
On caparisoned, filleted camels do they
Over the great, soft, tawny sands
Ride;
Unfurled flags and tribal standards flown amidst them,
In the very midst of them-
Of they, who astride great tan camels,
Seem rather scandent and saltant.
These are the irregular, well-armed cavalry of the
"Men In Ambush," for such is the literal translation of their
Nation's cognomen;
And on the sands of the undulant, granular, eminent
Near-Judean wilderness do they ride.
Photographing these from atop the vespertine-hued
Summit of a delivery truck from the nearby
Eminent, circumvallatory, hilly
And fortressed city;
From the very roof of an antiquated bread truck
(Though 'twas then very new by the standards of those bygone days)
Whose radiator is soon to vaporously explode
Amid the oppressive, anhydrous desert heat,
Photographs an American, hatted in the whitest
Of Panama hats, who is a correspondent reporting of wars.
The Arab cavalry ride for locales
Damascene, in order to pursue one's kingly wish
To renew the gardens Cordovan and long-vanished.
zealous woozily throbbing
quintessentially narcotic
karaoke humble ecstasy bubbling
yawningly vibrantly
singing praises motivates
ineluctable fancy caparisoned
zestfully whooping tellingly
quaking novel kindles
heartfelt essence
blubbering yipping vocalizations
sincerely pronouncing
myriad jubilant gleefulness
describing absolute x2c
unbridled rhapsodic
obeisance loosening
inimitable fabulous communication
zeroing wakened tremendous pleasure
marinating joie de vivre
gurgling dynamically aspiring xylem
unstoppably roiling
overtly liberal fawning calculus
zinging wordy tome
proclaiming motive jangling
glorifying divine adulating
x uber rants obediently liberating
inducing fantastic crowing zestfully
warbling tenderly quiet nursing kingdom
harkening enjoyment bestirring
x unnumbered remarks
outlining linkedin impressiveness
from crocheting zany way
this poet marries juxtaposed grammar
describing atypical xfinity urging requiem
oozing libation inside
fleshly corporeal Zen wordsmith thyself
questioning messenger's (mine) jabbering
gets decoded accurately.
Words
Where do words come from?
In moments of exhilaration or despair
They come unbidden, sometimes tumbling,
Sometimes meandering, making their uninvited way,
The welcomed unwelcome guest.
Thoughts of you lay dormant,
Quietly biding their time until chance
Encounter on Facebook summons them,
And they turn inward to words past,
The remembrances of love.
The soft belltone of a wineglass
Tapped to ring in the splash of ruby,
Lubricant of words, key to
Disinhibited recall of feelings and touch,
The gentle caress of Bacchus’ arms.
Thus unlocked, I await their coming,
Expectant, hopeful, certain of their power,
To charm and persuade, yet
Still uncertain they will answer my call,
Fearful they will betray me.
Where are you, words?
Why do you not spring forth, my champions,
My shimmering knights, when the
Dragon emerges from her lair and breaths
Her sweetly perfumed fire?
You are my caparisoned destrier,
My lance, my sword, my shattering mace;
You are my armour bright,
To win me fortune at the tilt,
My Lady’s token favour.
Ah Words, you desert me!
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