I like to sit down and smoke sometimes late at night
while listening to music online to reflect on my life
and think
About why we as a species even go out of our way
to bash and hate and shame all those who are very
openly distinct
And why our society likes to shame my people into
hating themselves and denying and hiding who they
truly are
And why my people’s special attributes end up forsaken
and crudely positioned on the blankened faces
of other stars
Eventually the skies replied to my inquiry with bold,
intense storms of powerful lightning and
strong thunder
A fae then arrived and told me that so many of the people
around us are very disconnected from
whimsy and wonder
Note: I'm aware it's mostly global warming but one can't help but wonder if perhaps a lot of what's going on now is spiritual. Honestly, I think it is. But I'd rather let the weather experts do most of the talking while I continue to play with my imagination. Don't take this poem literally.
“It surely takes a grievous toll
Near the end of snow-white roll” (by author)
My lifespan by default, bawdily brief,
Sadly signifies excremental grief.
From pristine white to shady hues of brown,
Crumpled or creased, crudely disposed aground.
Paradox: I’m the most needed token -
Yet most disrespected, tissue-broken.
It could be smelly feet but no, alas!
It has to be the dark side of an ass.
I don’t intend to make you humans blush,
But you waste me on your waste in a flush.
Thus my life on a roll, floating in vain,
Down the drain, down the drain, down the drain!
August 14, 2026
I remember in days long gone
our neighborhood boys
scooping large fallen branches
from the backwoods’ trees
and fitting them together with rope,
finishing off their crudely constructed creations
with old used blankets atop
and anchored down with rocks.
Leaves and pine cones were decorations
for these tiny fortresses
behind which they hid with toy guns
to play out their cowboy fantasies.
Little girls preferred the cute private chambers
of their best friends,
where they chatted and sipped tea
from tiny tea cups
while munching on mom’s cookies.
There they could imagine the day
when little boys gave up forts
to make them queens of castles.
“You look happy.”
It wasn’t a compliment, nor was it truly an observation. It did not fall from his tongue with ease, it clung to his very being like a toxin that could not be purged. It was an accusation, a statement that settled itself between the two of us and silently solidified the notion of our separation.
Because I was happy.
I was so happy it threatened to consume us both, proving with no uncertainty that it was finished. The nail beaten so crudely into the coffin that even his deft hands could not pry their way inside. The all encompassing grasp of his self actualized sadness no longer touched the depths of me. I had reduced him from a prophet to a beggar, and in the end, I was happy.
Seems like certain politicos toss about the f---word thinking they're cute!
Didn't their mommies teach them that real ladies and gents of good repute,
Don't express themselves in public in such a disgraceful manner and so crudely?
"Profanity is the effort of a feeble brain to express itself lewdly!"
A drowned Perpetua inhumane, whose dwellers art furthest from sane,
where mortals had once sought to reign, now mindless husks subject to an eerie pain.
And so, amidst boiling waves of a single flow, which so seek to sate hungers that blindly echo from beneath that gangrenous gore
eclipsed in crimson too dark to ignore,
Nearing if not therefore, beneath those vermillion dunes, chronicled from before, hidden nearer the ocean floor.
Far beneath bore that which only fellow filth may grow to adore.
So arose the disembowelled silhouettes of creatures eerily unfound, hidden beneath corpsed constellations that continue to astound.
Ripe with rot, anywhere yet not
upon thine festering flesh, betwixt sinews which crudely infest.
Alive by the necromancer's bequest, so welcoming thou as their unholy guest.
Remember always Invictus and God
when you stand alone before pharisees -
thus follow the path King and saint have trod
and, son, trust in your own humanities.
Prove incorruptible and heed this wise,
the rule of men are not mighty to save -
their inward ravenings crudely devise
and their only one saving is the grave.
Loved is the divine child young in his days
whose cross to carry is your crown to wear,
whose stamp of nature a quiet strength raise -
cleave to it lest your heart fail you for fear.
Live and love, and rewarded you will be,
else all that becomes you is vanity.
Written: March 2011
No one questions as much
Freedom concept as such.
Nor its value or cost -
Til it is crudely lost.
Once it’s stolen, we pause,
Scrutinizing the cause.
Priceless is freedom’s net,
Let us never forget!
Its elite taste, so sweet,
Relish as a rare treat.
March 18, 2022
You make simple things
become crudely entangled;
Knotting up a string;
Strangled thoughts and emotions
constricted to bated breath.
Damn those boys, those idiots, who,
with psychedelic lights flashing on blank faces
nurse their drinks, slowly caress glasses,
joke crudely with their friends —
while I yearn.
Damn you, you cowards, who,
refuse to develop contact
who hide in dark corners
who sit on high bar stools
who tear out my heart —
without knowing.
As Halloween approaches
I wonder if any bold spirits
will venture out to maintain
a long forgotten pagan rite
and if they’ll don a Darth Vader
mask or wear a more sensible
and hygienic tight fitting
mouth and nose covering?
Regardless, there will be a light
in my crudely carved pumpkin
and I’ll wear my mask and
gloves to dole out sweet
nothings to any intrepid
souls who venture
to my door.
Dark and endless wonder
I am to plunder
In the name of your reach,
As I yearn to discover,
The keys that uncover,
The textures of existence.
Yet, It is I behind every door,
Every seal,
Every curtain,
Folding unto myself.
Sentiments rejoice, disperse,
Evaporate, as clouds to rain
Flickers of strength
Temperamental weather,
Winter’s flock come summer,
Beat onward without a drummer
Ceaseless chaos,
Lawless jungle, crudely laid,
Forge the path causality made
Impersonal gravity
That cradles the absolute,
Command the silence
To leave no whisper outside the gates,
A rapturous mystery preserved,
Contained.
You say that I only can see the bad parts. You can tell by the rhyme that I wrote. If food you call good, was all that it should, why'd it have to be shoved down my throat?
Suppose I should tote
a dead scroll or an apochraphyctic lamb skin. Apocalyptic man skins, get walked on like crudely made danskins, and ever presence ever yields to ancient peasantry in fields. Will we ever get a shield from that son?
Will standing laws, or laws of nature, sanitize a mind set to statutory rape her, when she comes to my Mom's house in shorts?
Sanctified codifications, waxed melodic like the Haitians, remove the curses I hurl watching sports.
But what of the blade, be it metal or not, that slices skin, and pierces the chest?
Slice an apple open, and shove a hard candy in it. The harvest is over, and new winter soldiers shall propagate indirect witness.
Hieronymus the Hippopotamus,
Implied at times that he was xylotomous;
Even claiming to be most gregarious.
Real time though, he loved to be autonomous;
Only decidedly not anonymous;
Not to mention being quite hilarious.
Yet no one found him to be synonymous,
Moreover, with the crudely cantankerous;
Unlikely even to be obstreperous.
Some friends on the Nile found him magnanimous.
envelope rhyme
Humpty Dumpty, brave fall guy
attended the King's Christmas ball.
He never guessed his downfall,
empty headed, brain gone awry.
Humpty Dumpty's sneaky try,
bucking the Queen's serving line,
“Expelled! out back, you shall dine!”
close by yon royal pig sty.
Humpty Dump, give us a clue,
"Why did you behave so rudely?"
Your etiquette, so crudely
like a simple, naïve ingenue.
Humpty Dumpty then stone-walled
devouring a dozen eggs
plus twenty-four chicken legs
Sprawled thither on stone wall, he stalled.
Thus, Humpty Dumpty got bumped,
a bold nudge from one palace horse:
"Noble king cannot endorse
a cannibal, so totally stumped.”
December 17, 2019
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