silver-tongued serenity fabricator of unstoppable thirst
Damp linens flung aside
sodden cushions
Flank by flank
She was damp
Nickel sack and bark rings
Verdant gaze meet hazel orbs
Ripe late April Northern Flatlands moisture
Slaughterhouse savory mist perfume
Slender dull rose covering on the pane
Cooling unit recirculating
Coral beams groom her visage
Midday vernal noon
the drizzle ceased the light slivered in
Naked gourd blossoms adhesive juice
Lurching brined
The toddler flesh on her abdomen
She didn’t cleanse
Just exited my one-room lodging
Infatuation perspiration,
Empty uterus,
Pixie sperm dribbling,
Contraceptive device
Marriage band fabricator.
Life Weary, So Hungry I Could Eat A Dry Bone
Trekking through fire breathing desert, yes all alone
Mouth full of sand, shattered heart so heavy too
Life weary, so hungry I could eat a dry bone
Looking back at this life, where were the breaks my due
I recall all hellacious bad times that came
The motorcycle wreck when I was but fifteen!
All those shots that should have given me greater fame
Those barroom brawls, man that one dude was so damn mean
I laughed, I ran full amok, a bit crazy
I cried like a baby when they shot down Dean
I raised hell doing farmwork but was not lazy
School was a blast but math work I wasnt too keen.
Trekking through fire breathing desert, yes all alone.
Life weary, so hungry I could eat a dry bone one.
Mouth full of sand, shattered heart so heavy too
Looking back at this life, where were the breaks my due.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-08-2023
16 VERSE SONNET , WITH 12 SYLLABLES
EACH VERSE
Note_
My life in my youth was anything but dull.
I worked as a club bouncer, farmhand, factory working manager 4 times, carpenter, roofer, bricklayer, metal fabricator, even worked at a car repair once.
It’s no use wishing on the moon -
beware that nearly untouchable beauty.
She has a dark side and will desert you
when when the fickle twirling earth spins
night into morning.
It’s no good wishing on the stars:
those illusions are a million years gone.
Stars die like us. They own no magic
and will fade as the morning blossoms
upon the night.
Ancients wished on the treasonous sun,
that fabricator of warmth - not compassion.
Although it brings the new day, it can do little else
I thought we were friends, true to each other.
I thought he was more than my own brother.
He was very kind to me, and I was even kinder.
He helped me a little and I was a better helper.
But when he didn’t benefit from me any longer.
He turned his back on me just like any stranger.
I felt betrayed, forsaken, and pain was greater.
I wondered how fast he turned into a hater!
I wondered how he lived as a fabricator!
His life was false and he was so big a faker!
He could’ve been a friend, a man, not a traitor!
I wondered why he chose to be a killer spider.
Those falling in the net took him for a liberator.
Those surviving it knew he was a terminator.
9/8/2014
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