Perspire, poor perspicacious?
Tenacious at the quick?
Sanguine, solemn, sagacious?
Lost lighter wheel, fine flick?
Yes, and when the autumn rain:
Turns the place to mud:
Twister. Terrible terrain.
Coat shed. Drawn in blood.
Chairs black walnut, open backs.
In a circle rest.
Fine feather-cut, trains on tracks.
Ash and smoke, pour west.
O canopy of crimson!
Thy ladies fair sparks blow!
Diadem diamond, honey dun!
Hummingbird, fly low!
Marble top, mahogany.
Tables outward curve.
Tracing white as destiny.
Vilified the verve.
Iron spouts conical?
Fire bellows breathing in.
Candelabra, port and pall.
Triangles of tin.
Project beyond thy sockets!
Blue star-shaped ornaments!
Dark night shattered, fired rockets!
Soldiers out of tents!
Concentric, calm, chiral.
Two-sided, layered thick.
Videos gone viral.
Stump oak and hickory stick.
crown petals unfold for lofty Light
fontanelle gaping softly smile
Centre Point’s hole blazon mile
pineal connects as conical way
to galactic edenic binomial rays
loosens ovuliferous scales honed
thyroid equalises, tongue relaxes
cylinder opens larynx true blue
speech becomes intended hues
heart softens atria, ventricles
valves linking doors of paradise
protected golden it rhapsodises
coin-line verticle-horizontal spherical
solar plexus flowers monumental near
mystical super might no incidentals
feed flows smooth for tantric beats
sacral seat in creativity knowing heat
power is orange action satisfaction
rooted into Earth mooted primordial
authentic estate mirthful immemorial
aligned connection very refined
~~~~~~~~~~
My Dad! My Dad with hands so grand
whether shapely straight as a clarinet
or conical as a saxaphone. He blows
through a woody-reed, his tongue
not lashing at us, but conditioned
to musically relay his love for us.
My Dad! My Dad with hands so grand.
They put together a Hammond organ.
His feet so cheerfully press the pedals,
his fingers twinkle across the keys.
Whatever instrument, he sings to us;
his voice good enough for us. Occasionally,
my Dad would get mad, lash out, but
it was not his habit. He is compassionate.
He’d keep quiet, and quietly entertain.
I greet the mild sun,
as it ascends among peach and lilac hues.
Its golden rays caress pearly dewdrops,
resting upon my verdant leaves.
My conical purple and pink petals stand tall
against dawn's breeze, as I gently sway,
dancing to nature's timeless rhythm.
I can hear the sweet call of the Chickadees,
as cheeky chipmunks raid brimming bird feeders.
Some claim I am controversial and invasive,
but I am a beacon of resilience -
a haven for bees and butterflies.
I look to the sky has told by the man named bog whom acts disingenuous about what is not seen. Then a black conical shape made of oil takes shape I now am filled and beatific.
She had cats
she had a top-floor flat
in the south of London
where there are breathable spaces.
The cats claimed their own spaces
and guarded every inch of them.
She was a practicing witch
she had all the gear, conical hat, wand, black eye-paint
but was still practicing, spiritually inclined
but not too smart.
Candles and incense littered the edge of the bed
I checked for pentagrams and was relieved
to find none.
Despite all these eccentric foibles
a young man can overlook them all
if need insists.
She was a real beauty.
I more or less jumped onto her willing nakedness.
I thought the scratches I felt on my back
were from her own purple fingernails,
but no,
I was being attacked by angry hissing cats.
Thus to this very day
I cannot morally endorse any sex with animals.
I'm wearing a conical hat
A conical, conical, conical hat
Oh waddaya thinkabout dat
My conical, conical, conical, conical,
Conical conical hat; that
is my conical hat.
Cold-blooded reptiles with
Conical teeth, scales, and
Clawed webbed toes, these cunning
Carnivorous creatures
Capture prey with ease. They
Can kill with strong jaws. Take
Care wading through a swamp!
March 18, 2022 for Joseph May's In Search Of Prey Poetry Contest
42 Total number of syllables as checked by Howmanysllables.com
My Little Sparrow
Oh Little Sparrow
How come you here?
Your rufous neck
Seems so cute
And your white little cheeks
Are too small to hold a seed
And a bushy black bil
With conical structure
Seems so great
As its a visual treat..
Why don't you go to the grasslands?
And all the deserts and the woodlands?
Do you want to live with me?
Oh Little Sparrow
Come to me...
ABC-Always Be Careful
Cause the dreadful cats,
Hungry Hawks
Came here in search of you...
Where is your clump?
You better go back..
Oh Little Sparrow
Bid You Goodbye.....
Oh childhood lullaby
Yee of bedtime sheep tailored
dream woven pillowcase
Ticking striking momentum behind
hidden crossed finger hand
Conical , decoherence pyramid shape
of future held in open palm
In barren room furnished simply
with a wardrobe hidden in a corner
Beckoning forth an erstwhile champion to
penetrable it's wonder-wall of secrets
And relieve them of the key so
as they can sleep and keep no more
While those who unbeknownst to them
know what they are not
Safely slumber under moon and star
pulsar up above and far further beyond
Sheltering under love's protection from
the bite of the north cold winds jagged teeth
cutting through bare exposed flesh
Who's purpose they believe is to challenge
the power of the witches spell and stroke
a lion's mane
And hopefully imagination permitting
return via the very same rabbit hole
they entered
To speak and tell of such graphic tales in
the key of lullaby that children just like
themselves can even understand
And willingly wish to go to bed in order
to dream
And resume the search of last night's
merriment and folly
Conical sections or parabolic curves
elastic gives while steel holds the line
gravity melts in sunlight bright
while what is seen weakens the whole
momentum with excesses goes
but the earth won’t be denied
hopes and dreams of the night
dies with the sight in day time
engineers struggle with calculus hard
sectors and tensions encompassing dreams
forcing nature into mathematical lines
building the shapes of warped dreams
bulging eyes targets may be
being poked out by what is seen
flowing curves of parabolic lines
too soft of message be said
rejoicing in what one has
a streak of malice might lie within
metaphors vie to define the site
young boys grasp and old men sigh
Captivating beauty
Covered by a brown coir
Coarse outside on touching
Conical bowl inside
Cup of soft white sweet fruit
Cool sweet water within
Carefully poured in glass
Ridden Hard, Put Up Wet
Worn down landscape
Ridden hard and put up wet over eons of time.
Buttes interspersed with ravines and wadis,
Vast irregular symmetry.
Clumps of purple blue green sage
To have been seen by the riders of olden times.
Clusters scattered randomly.
A patchwork without design
Covering endlessly to the horizon
Intermingled with beef and horse.
The buttes come in irregular waves of shapes and sizes.
Conical breasts sprung up in ridges,
Or sometimes alone at the sky line.
Isolated flat tops
Or long Capetown table mountains;
African ant hill shapes,
Crenulated with skirts of vertical old rivulet stripes.
The overstory of bare hard scrabble thin land
Draped to the side of the ravines
Exposing the layers of understory limestone below.
Sentinel wood line posts, strong with wire, guard the narrow highway
That rolls with the landscape.
Occasional cotton wood ribbons
Crosses the roadway over the sign ‘Dry Run Creek’ which still remains dry until the rain comes.
All this
Served under the banner of blue sky
Shredded with a mare’s tail wisp of clouds
7/13/2020
I remember the city
when it had to be plugged
into black handsets for distant listening.
Conical coral peaks rose up
from sky-blue shallows once -
right here under the entombing concrete.
Nothing grew in that place except heaps and hills.
This city is a garden we have made
out of fabricated conversations;
talk does that, it creates chaos then
it’s expressed the way a concrete reality needs to be poured
into a pre-determined shape to be defined.
Now cellular-phones are growing cellular reefs,
the city recycles these small abiotic words
into mulch and various pressed materials
that form roof gardens:
places where parrots have time to chatter
while evolving into dinosaurs.
Floating Market on the River
A Thailand tradition
Large sun umbrellas
And boat roofs or hoods
And Asian conical hats
A bucket of cracked brown egg shells
A grandma quickly whips up
Egg, oyster and fresh, crisp bean sprout
In rice flour batter
Raw and cooked food
Vendors sell garden produce
And cooked food
Prepared right before one’s eyes
Plantain, banana, bean sprouts
Breadfruit
Coconut sugar, syrup and fresh coconut
Poof- a cloud of smoke surround the cook
Another vendor grills meat on skewers
She makes chicken, liver and sticky rice
Tart and sweet star fruit
Steamed sticky rice, coconut milk , sugar and banana inside its leaf
A sweet Thailand tamale
A live band: saxophonist, keyboardist and vocalist plays for donations
Fried quell egg
Fresh and dried spices
Fresh and dried sea food: shrimp, fish
Grilled scallop
Cooked noodles
Cooked squid, prawn, crab and fish
Green papaya salad
Boat brewed coffee
Soda pop
Distilled water
Tea
Beer
Blood cake
Pork
Rice noodles
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
09/30/19
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