How brittle can the ruin of this heart slay
Like furrowed weeds burned into cinder ,
When church's flowers turn ebon and droop
As winds do not return... nothing moves
Not even air- chimes in their hazy curves:
*
I watch my own body... it becomes a stranger Melting like an anonymous outline
That enters the dark through crushed wails...
He is nowhere , not even a shadow flapping
While a eulogy of abandonment goes unsung, *
*
My fingers quiver in front of an altar…
pain grating the most benevolent
of prayers , chafed by slices of eve
that have no syllables for me…
For on this day, a deserted betrothal
leaves me hanging , hanging on a choir's loft.
And night breezes wash over me vanishing,
That I gaze at my bridal bouquet slowly astir...
A shattered vow, a runaway groom
Cry I must, in solo of dreaded season,
Waiting for hushabye to put me to sleep.
Exasperating Eddie chafed his neighbors the wrong way
his mortal enemies list was growing longer every day
his parents told Eddie to keep quiet if he did not know what to say
Pompous, proud, arrogant and opinionated, being quiet was not his way.
In cavernous Swiss bank vaults
Slavery, is a word filed under anecdotes as valued as gold caught
By some inbred morons I’m told
To be resuscitated, wasn’t evil then
Elated? There was power to be
Used, unabated they put leaders; into
State shoes, ‘no matter if they chafed em’ paid for like goods
To lead, astray whole nations
Unto tangled brambles of fanciful
Climate alarmist notions, sickness was their remedy
In fact; they even introduced the maladies!
With them it’s all just theatre and hype; they have a
Consistency like tripe. Just a body of
Flatulence…..Craving much
Opulence, descendants of nazis
With all that old nonsense if you
Just tease, the narrative of disasters, you’ll find they
Are fully plastered; zonked out on toxins
Remote of awareness, default locked
Of cognition' lacking, no empathy;
Just histrionics; is all I see is big
Plans they sure thunk-em, yet
‘Twas. ‘All the bunkum that sunk em.’
©Joe Maverick 4-12-2025
Animals feel love, empathy, and pain;
traits that I have noticed over the years.
Dogs have so much love, it's hard to contain
they revel in your joys, and mourn your tears:
and as your best friend, they console your fears.
I've seen my cat react when I'm depressed;
snuggling up to my face, she comforts me.
And when she senses I'm worried or stressed
she'll soulfully lay her head on my knee;
her empathy displayed for all to see.
I saw a bear, its leg chafed by a chain;
and I could almost feel its rage and fear
while folks laughed, as it glowed and roared in pain.
Its plight broke my heart, and I shed a tear:
the agony it felt was crystal clear.
Animals share the same feelings we do,
I have confirmed this through observation.
But Man has never given them their due:
starting with the story of creation,
they've been subjected to subjugation.
cyan blues indigo into nighttime
darkness scorches the soul to the core
hellfire’s charcoal embers
dissipate lightness of being
achromatic void
engulfs a self-fulfilling promise
rose petals wither by the wayside
trudged and treaded upon
flame red converts to burnt sienna
a mere shadow dances in the heat
hunter green pastels fade in exhaustion
an emerald pendant strings
a chafed neck in a choking embrace
mustard gold’s alchemy
folds citric sunflowers
away from its rainbow
where a pot of tar
repeats the circular path
suave mauve corrodes
into rust and necessity’s must
clusters indecision
and meaningless desire
the prism yields prison
and yet all colours
would merge into white
when the pail becomes
half full once again
and chakras confide
to the canvass
and the portrait of truth
.
there'z no finer feeling
save
hern mitt's palm's
sweat
'side mine threshing duke's
chafed
'long
hern
cherry pick'n
pyknic
digits
entwined
mine
hern
racing pump
the
'side my
torso
Its quest is over.
Life's. Wholesome-faced.
At this drop off point, a world's
Sea-washed. Effaced.
Shackled by which search, a slave's
Profitless, for coin
Proved it, toward more and more
Becoming joy-rich
Now breathing freer, will ditch
What for too long chafed
Of self deceit, to the winds.
Sharpest thought-cleansing
Was I maudlin over our breakup? For a minute.
If I think of you now, it’s like a slideshow of unflattering images.
At the time, my breakup buddies reminded me you were a bad
choice - like a brand of deodorant that gave me a rash or fashionable shoes that chafed, even after they were stretched.
“Ruca,” my girlfriends would say, “you’re shootin-terrible, they’re a million pork-swords in the sea.”
Finally, I pulled the trigger - double-tapped us.
At first, reminders of you, those siren whispers of nostalgia, were everywhere - like the moon - which, I just had to live with.
You passed from memory though, that’s how memory works. Events fade, like last week’s chemistry test, or yesterday’s lunch.
Now, if someone asks me, “Hey, remember, what’s his name, your big love from high school?”
I say “Nope.”
I chose to laugh, dance - and shoot birds at the moon.
.
.
Slang:
breakup buddies = friends who help you get over a breakup
ruca = girlfriend
shootin terrible = on a losing streak, not doing well, making bad choices
pork-swords = come on, think about it - it’s funny.
The river
still finds its brown way
through the city's glass
and concrete canyons
until finally reaching
the bay. Its tidal breath
has become my own.
I live near its mouth.
I was not born here
but have spent more
than half my life
a citizen of its urban sprawl.
The roots I've sunk
hang off a sense of home.
There is an ease
in living here where the old
and the new, the familiar
and strange exist
in counterpoint and house
the needs of the gregarious
and the chafed nerves
of the recluse. Cafes
serve good coffee.
In the shadows
of apartment towers,
old men can shuffle easily
down the gentle slope
of asphalt paths,
carrying words or a rod
and sit quietly
at the water's edge
with their thoughts,
fishing for bream or God.
Rudolph Valentino could feel
A new woman in every reel
Santa's reindeer
Is not a steer!
A chafed nose is just a raw deal!
The lichen clings to his trunk
Like she has for ages
Holding fast, curling tight
In pale green companionship
The oak tree smiles down at her
Craggy smile, chafed and gnarled with time
To admire her diligence, to coexist
At the meeting place where two form one
When the rain taps in multitudes on his leaves
When the night sweeps over like a funeral veil
When the day lifts it as a morning bride
Still she holds him, squeezing herself to his chest
He begins to wonder, as trees sometimes do
If it is time for her to uncurl, unlatch
For all the gifts that she provides, and he returns
Perhaps it’s time to diverge, to greet separate horizons
But a stubborn, steadfast thing she is
And for all his hoping and itching for progress
She holds on, past the eleventh hour
Past his need for her embrace
And now when the wind whistles through,
It sounds more like a wistful sigh,
For the lichen promises and whispers
And the fond old oak tree complies
“Loving someone enough to let them go
doesn’t always work.”
Saturday, January 30, 2021
For Joseph May’s contest “Fabled Musings”
The redwoods’ fairy ring, wall in a family secret
Only, not all roots dig as deep…
Parched, some shrivel, loosening the circlet
Shush….the tallest ones whisper steep
Elegance alas, the needy ones, have lost…
Chafed, bitter barks scatter cones they can’t keep
Raging fires sear heartwood of dearest cost
Enduring burns gape trunk-wide scars…
The remnant wall shrinks tauter, visible as vapored frost
(10/2/20: '87 Tiara 3600 Convertible; DMS)
KEEP YOUR HOPE BLAZING
Don’t be so down
and carry a frown.
Put a smile instead
like you are headed
to have a good time,
as you had time after time.
It is all up to you
to make it through
in this troubled time
to feel great or fine
because life goes on,
no matter what goes on.
SO HAVE YOUR FAITH BURNING
TO KEEP YOUR HOPE BLAZING
FOR IT WILL BE ALL RIGHT
WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT.
Right at this moment,
it seems different.
You may feel incomplete,
chafed with all the limits.
Like life is a standstill.
You don’t know until.
Yet, you still have you.
Yes, the incredible you.
Do the things that turn you on
or love to do to move on
to feel good and be pleased
with what you would accomplish.
SO HAVE YOUR FAITH BURNING
TO KEEP YOUR HOPE BLAZING
FOR IT WILL BE ALL RIGHT
WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT.
How chafed the foot bereft of sole,
when unshod thoughts meet splintered floor.
Known terra firma drifts from whole,
as reason loses sight of shore.
03 Mar 2020
First four lines of "Unmoored - God Knows Where I Am" written 29 May 2017. Gregory R. Barden's Rithimus Divisa 2 Poetry Contest
Pecos Bill daddled and skedaddle like molasses.
Sunglasses cuddled, his badass
Stetson buffalo cowboy hat.
Lashes his airish, passive donkie Mis. Do Goglles
as he passes, airin' the lungs.
Sits there like that passin gasses,
at the chanting masses.
Allers among the willows, Pecos bypasses,
poaches the stooges
Dooie and Doodle Doodole's angelicas, n boozes.
Bested by the Sheriff, neat and straight on its feet, no actress;
a rope chafed Pecos neck at the gallows.
3/3/2020
Allers – Always
Among the Willows – Dodging the Law.
Western Slang, Lingo, and Phrases – A Writer’s Guide to the Old West
https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-slang/#A
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