~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March winds howl~
a child's lost kite tangled
in bare branches,
its dangling tail whispering
secrets to the hungry earth.
Oh, dear reader
of short-line
poems,
are you, like me,
short of breath?
Have you tried
to read
my short-shift stuff,
with ever so
short-lines,
Aloud?
It's sad to say
it sounds
a tad choppy!
Like it's,
ridin' on
bobbin' seas,
sailing into
a head-wind
over the air-ways.
It rollicks along
with carriage returns,
unwinding,
flowing freely
from margins
set tight,
to waterfall.
Sad to say,
I'm done with it!
For me personally,
a poem
is just a thought,
a heady
daydream fling,
until its read,
Out-Loud!
When you travel and you’re on a plane,
Attendants must always explain
What to do in a crash
But the words they rehash
Most on board think are spoken in vain.
Yet a Delta flight recently dipped
As it landed and suddenly flipped.
Every seat belt held tight
As each one on the flight
Dangled upside down, very off-script.
Flight crews got all the passengers out
With some injuries scattered about
But they all did survive,
In one piece and alive,
Though quite shaken up, there’s little doubt.
A payout from Delta proposed
Thirty-thousand for each one exposed
To this harrowing turn
(More than some people earn)
But not worth it, as many disclosed.
I am out now dangling
But you leave me hanging
Holding on to nothing
Wishing to hold on to you
Wanting and awaiting
Your touch once more
Your absence has been
Too long for my taking
I am out now
It is me I would
Like to give to you
Not just some small fragment
Of my being essential only to the
Level of your selfish indulges
I am out now
Take hold of me and penetrate my mind
Subdue my body with the raptures
Of yesterday's forgotten dreams
Persuade me with the sweet nothings
Caress me with empty promises
You dare to whisper in my ear
Lift my soul with the truth of
Your lies that you want me to believe
As you knew it to be
When we became as one
Give to me all of you
If just for one more night
And if perchance
We shall meet in the sun
Let only our smile tell
Some kind of Boccaccio
they open The Book,
borrowing thoughts
and stories from muses,
for it is a tome
in its entirety,
each muse, a Page, unamused,
to be plucked from tomb,
those sepia petals thrown up in the air,
unravel, the yarns like confetti,
land at the feet
of others
weeds and rows of perennials,
who bend like willows
backwards, they watch
unhooded falcons soar up
against the sky,
all shades of colour
the ever-moving clouds
like music, divine,
pull them up as if on strings
threaded through needlepoint
of a sharper mind,
they are carried away, drugged,
making wishes, like dandelions
blowing each the other,
they become - more - storks,
each a story, undone,
sewn and seeded
for the larger Ovid
in exchange for kinder souls
they dangle, each and every one
their spines entitled,
The Decameron
opened up,
lives fluttering,
they are read
as the in-betweens
some Prencipe Galeotto
engaged with Dante’s trust
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Page
stork, stalk
the Decameron
Prencipe Galeotto
Dante
Ovid
Dangling thoughts
Of your brilliance
Dream about the days of destiny.
The wondrous slots
Of due diligence
Fill their chairs with the pace of scrutiny.
Dandelion puff clouds
tickle the air with their flossy flights.
Other weeds cannot fly
they are deeply rooted, their seeds
flop low.
Landscapers grind the ground grimly,
mowers grapple and growl
but the low gravity and the fluffy,
the wind-walking dandelions
sneeze up their fuzziness
and care not
as they ride the sky, their
high-flown wispy pedigrees
waving goodbye.
There is a site
just here,
yes, here. Somewhere.
I hover, dangle, hang about,
just here.
You can hold a mouse,
press it just here, or just here,
and you hear a click.
It may even squeak.
A mouse does so, so much.
Such a sight
on this site.
Sometimes it’s light
or often a fright.
But such a sight
on this site.
Oh, such a site!
(February 2022)
in the silence
of the night
ring loudest
words unsaid
the gaps
the hesitations
admissions left
half hanging
AP: 3rd place 2021
her child
she spanks
cigarette
dangling
baby
turns away
she inflicts
real
pain
eyes etched'n mystery
wielding wanky slips
on epileptic drips
centered on clips
hanging on hits
punctured per clip
delicate draw dangling
lousy limb lustrating
pulling chaos's mist
vying courage gulped
in mystic mist
punctured passion puking
lusty lips leak
dyed-in-the-wool demon creeps.
20:01:15:16:55
smirk seeped'n acme
damping dainty drips
of salient scrunchies
punctured puke pitched
on callous crest
pluming pulpy pests
hoisted aura hankering
fostering flattered feelings
callous contractions crumbling
la-de-da limbs lurching
aiding cranky catastrophe
on prurient priest
costly commotion vying
daring damsel dangling.
20:01:06:11:55
Note: A lady passing by...
eerie earth moaning
tainted soles trudging
salient strife smirking
lofty lust lurching
damped desires drooling
heightened hoisted hankerings
daedal dusts dangling
callous contractions cussing
smothered zeals scrunching
apt auras oozing
spooky silhouettes sealing
rustic rays belching
whosing wind wielding
all tiers tearing!
19:12:07:10:12
What's a necktie
dangling for?
Too stiff, too thin
to be scarf, a bib
or an apron,
Too smooth to be
a hankie,
too short to be
a suicide noose
to contemplate on!
***** Trump Is Dangling
As usual ***** Trump again is dangling,
And several deals he will be wrangling;
Deep in debt;
Suitors upset;
Minds of many more has been mangling.
Jim Horn
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