But who will free the poetry
Of its endless binding history
In doing so free you and me
To write as if we’re truly free
Of meters lockstep droning march
Of lifeless linen, too much starch
Tongues twisted by alliteration
Trains of words leaving the station
But who will free the poetry
Still locked within the who of me
Until I shout – “just let it be”
For poetry’s always been free
Its forms a method to a means
Ekphrasis words creating scenes
Of city streets in tattered jeans
Fairy tales of rescued Queens
So, fill the page with loving’s rage
A gentle breeze on windblown sage
Release the Kraken of the mind
Rescue the poet left behind
Lulled by the electronic funk
A willing participant
Hypnotized onlooker
In a hazed stupor
Television
Time eater
Droning
Rest
A phone that never rings
A TV droning on endlessly
The refrigerator humming on empty
Stale coffee grounds
A lazy drop falls from the sink faucet
A faint odor from the shower
Bedroom curtains and windows open
Cigarette holes burnt into a towel
Clothes from a bureau
scattered across an unmade bed
Toothpaste open on the bathroom sink
right next to an unfinished drink
Amid droning incantations
Products of arcane summations
Upon a scrying pool of mist
A sorcerous enchantment hissed
Magic brews and ancient spells
A portal forms to where it dwells
A red drops rides a glimmering blade
Summoning forth the witching shade
In answer to some secret burning
A effort born of frantic yearning
A heavy price for a boon required
A balanced scale for all desired
In darkness born, in darkness relayed
Only of darkness is such knowledge made
the rain was crushing our town at eight a.m.
it is three fifteen; bright, warm and sunny
insect droning and dog lapping water are the only sounds
one of my neighbor’s voices gets carried over by the wind
I could not repeat what she said under hypnosis
it was words, but I had no interest
the children’s swing fort is abandoned now
she has been sitting barren for about ten years
I was told to stain her yearly about eighteen years ago
I did it once.
the rope ladder fell off about six months ago
her dual plastic green slides are fresh-looking
my neck is grateful for the Vitamin D raining our way
the dogs sit beside me and behind me
misunderstanding why we are up here
they think it is so I can write
it is for them to exercise
instead, it has become another favorite sleeping place
tv watching wears me out
steals my energy
eliminates my day
robs me of myself
I sit mesmerized hour after hour
as if I am a puppet without a hand
after a bit I feel one with my recliner
reluctant to live a real life
my tv people are my gods
sometimes I move to the couch
where the droning puts me instantly to sleep
reinforcing my depression
Spiderwebbed folds hang
from thin arms.
A circle of lamplight
is his exercise yard.
Daylight is a brief fluttering wing
against closed eyelids.
Night floats above him,
and in those dark hours
he feels a light-headed immunity
from the gravity
of open graves.
Outside in the hard-wired clamor,
buses and trucks growl up droning hills.
Sink holes open and shut
within a rushing sky.
Order and chaos are ushered in and out
of crazy-eyed cats.
Sometimes his mind
is a wheezy colostrum
of milky effusions.
He paints himself with one finger
in the air.
The dying man hitchhikes under a hand,
feels the warmth of anything in full bloom.
He sighs, then gurgles like a coffee pot.
The wispy guy remains,
always sinking ever upwards
toward what - he knows not,
however, it’s not here
so, he doesn't care.
honking geese head South
droning planes on mission fly
warmer climes; targets
~ kcm
SEE NO EVIL, HEAR NO EVIL SPEAK NO EVIL
I thought I should think only good
I wished I should follow the Mahatma's deed.
See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.
As he knew very well
He preached what he practiced
For he knew you can't help thinking evil.
Mahatmaji, with all respect to you
I follow your teaching
I see never, neither hear, nor speak evil.
But can't help thinking evil.
I believe I follow you
When I wish not to think of evil
Evil thoughts come to the devil.
So said a reasonable philosopher
An atheist thinks of God more often than the theist
As he believes in rejecting Him.
Every time he starts thinking to reject Him
He has to think of Him.
So, the atheist thinks of Him very often than the theist.
Oh! Evil! Thou shall have a death.
Evil! Not alone He dies.
I want a change in my mind "Let the evil be eliminated."
I would be good forever.
As good as good could be
But when all good prevails and no evil,
The world becomes monotonous, droning
And when no evil, only good.
There comes the problem, there is nothing good.
You should have a thing to distinguish
So, you need an evil to make the good exist as good.
I have to crane my neck
the small coterie is pressed together.
The svelte tailored nose-whisperer
of a docent remarks:
“You have to see the hidden in the hidden.”
He is all neck and bowtie,
one eyebrow is raised
expecting us to know what he means.
Some nod, some wipe their eyeglasses
hoping to see the unseen more clearly.
I look up at the ceiling, it's a nice ceiling.
I am only here in this art gallery
because of the rain.
I try to take the painting in
from a larger point of view,
but there are backs
and back-packs,
there are slowly dripping rain hats.
Our guide is droning on,
going to a place
where a disjoined flower in a vase,
can be a post-revolutionary revelation
of something or other,
and obviously much, much more
than a few abstract blobs of color.
Tomorrow, I promise myself
to carry an umbrella.
droning lawn mower
noise I try not to hear
breaks summer silence
What if our planet is sentient
In ways we don’t understand
And we by out actions have
Upset events it had planned,
Brought forward change
By hacking down the trees,
And Interfering in many ways
That just didn't please.
On a body the size of a planet
We are just like irritant fleas,
Or maybe to be considered
As an invasive skin disease.
Perhaps a period of vulcanism
Would quickly clean the skin
Clearing any infestation
Allow new things to begin.
First came grass and weeds,
Followed by spreadIng trees,
Skies full of returning birds
Flitting insects, droning bees.
Animals occupied
Ruins left by man
Earth slowly returned
To its interrupted plan.
Soon the shreds of
Plastic waste
Being Man’s only
Lasting trace.
In a very short time
Mankind had gone
Earth had shrugged
And just carried on
Perhaps the next infestation
Would be more compliant
To the wants and needs of
Its benevolent host giant.
A minuscule spot of dust
In a universe so vast
Without concern for any
Concepts of future or past.
sweet puppy is lying next to me in my recliner
we are sharing a pillow
I use it to hold my I-pad
he plunked his head on a large corner of it
He is like a baby furnace
I stroke his soft hair as he sleeps
Both of us content in front of a droning TV showing nothing important
My three-year-old son stood next to me
as I watered our garden of flowers
The zinnias nodded their blossoms
As if grateful for garden hose showers
A firework array, was that garden display
Of pinks, yellows, orange,
Purple, red
When my son asked the cutest of
Questions to me
In the darlingest way ever said
As he eyed that large bumbling bee
That he found alarmingly too close to me
Not quite in fear, as its buzzing drew near
And it sampled of pollens so dear
But at his first sight of that yellow bright fuzz
And the loud droning volume of that giant bee's buzz
He just needed to know all was right
He asked
"Mommy? Do humming bee's bite?"
Beware if you find yourself in a dark dank place
You may become the prey of Old Schnozz Face
Don't bother spraying him with a can of mace
He's a Vampiric creature of the Mosquito race
I detest the sound of his buzz buzzing in my ear
When in bed, that irksome droning sound I hear
That long needle nose is a grotesque thing to fear
I'd put something in his bag that came from a pee'er!
"Mosquito Man, why do you bother wearing pants?"
His reply came across as more angry whirring rants.
If their needles break, can mosquitoes get implants?
He just landed on a painting, one of my Rembrandts
It's way past time for me to put this skeletal pest away
The plan I have in mind will put an end to him, I pray
I've been bitten and harassed for the last time today
I'm taking out the big gun to fry him with a gamma ray!
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