Heard my head screamin
My eyes couldn't see
Oh rum set me free
More flagons and mugs
But all my demons
Just won't let me be
So now all I see
Are dragons and thugs
Our summer crops are in and larders full
So we are now well stocked for winter’s worst
When we will face freezing Arctic attacks.
Our stock contains dried fruits, roots and nuts
Along with several sacks of grain to grind
To make the flour to bake the daily bread.
And we have pickled veg in pots galore.
Beetroot, onions, shredded red cabbage and
Several jars of yellow piccalilli.
We have some salted meat and some smoked fish.
We’ve flagons of cider from fermented pears -
Sufficient to keep us high for many years.
Once more we‘ll endure wild winter weather.
But now we must have Harvest Festival
To offer our thanks to Mother Nature
For the soil, sunshine and essential rain.
Now it's time to taste this season's cider.
Our summer crops are in and larders full.
Of Kings and Queens and magic rings
Sorcerers and Dragons
Of Knights and Squires and midnight fires
Wines from kegs and flagons
Of battles won beneath the sun
For castles in the sand
The mystery of history
Sparks the legends of this land
though rather late, I woke up
i might have thought I wasted time in nodding
but what a wonderful dream I had
the hoary woods crew
danced on my eyelids
sourced balsam scent and poppies
the floaters
fresh and cruel motivators
i limp along, with a beard so long, and cane
my knee’s bent, my pace slowing
but shadow’s spreading
as I part my lips, dandelion seeds sail
through gentle
waves of wind toward
generation gaps
the stories
i will tell of flagons, empty dragon’s breath
joy of open eyes
how sunlight revives the tenderness of life
implement the words of Solomon the wise
Whether mine sails in torrents, or sunshine,
can walk on water or sinks beneath waves,
hubs always succeeds to lift me up.
Children, like flagons of ludicrous wine,
their knotty, cynical, humor I crave.
My reflection whirls in cherished cups.
Hours spent, biggety list, sugar-cubed day.
Galbreaths intertwine in how we’ve been brave
or not; with emotive eyes, catch up.
Circle’s animated ~ in God’s olé
friendwave.
10/30/2010
She had the fixation of their closeness
Ubnormally,her heart flapping from left to right
That night her table full of flagons
And every love film she saw was a hokum to her
Her thoughts flipped for a not found answer
And now thought she was mentally handicapped
But all these hidden in a peculiar smile
She hoped to get out of it some days
She amiably treasured her old days,she remembered
Contemplating about quitting, but again condemned the thought
Feeling not contented with everything around her
She was an avid avenger
Every night didn't go along
She looked the skies with the beauty of her eyes
Though helplessly lying on the floor
But she hoped to get out of it some days
A darkened world of dank false dreams,
painted with whiskey to mask my screams,
I'll blame the sun, the moon, the sky,
I'll blame the well wishing passers by,
I'll hide down deep in the sickly sweet,
I'll hide from myself my head to my feet,
I'll run from my body, heart and soul,
holding on to what swallows me,
I'll then swallow whole,
See me create a romance facade,
of every writer spurring drunken retards,
Bukowski & Ginsberg,
Kerouac & Burroughs,
mock their work with your life style,
dead poet brow furrows,
Darkened lines drawn across their face,
your whiskey, their words,
your cocktail's disgrace,
I'll call it art and jump on their wagons,
just to fall off of mine,
as their words pass me flagons,
Watch how I kill myself, long and slow,
spitefully swearing, "oh what do they know"
Borrow excuses to live in a lie,
to see at last truth, the day that you die,
That all this intelligence and power you've used,
was squandered, and raped...genius self abused
By David Nickle Read 3/4/18
All Rights Reserved By The Author
Carry to the king full flagons of wine,
this is your handmaiden’s duty mercy divine
Free-flowing ambrosia nectar fruit
mixed with stolen, silk tears of satin soft slavery
Pear-shaped heartache plucked,
a yearning branch uprooted from the bloodline tree
Comely cupbearer of the golden chalice,
harem handmaiden —
pleasure prisoner in an opulent palace
Captive crown seed royal body,
not regarded as a mere serving waif
Always regal are your movements,
no courtesan behavior do you display
Crimson hair chosen handmaiden,
innocent flame bearer of a fiery virgin heart
Bring the cup of delight
to the king’s hand at his demand
Before his presence, he desires you to stand
Celestial clothed ... cerulean robed
Chrysanthemum chosen handmaiden,
cupbearer of the vessel that portends divinity
Perform your duties with eunuch grace,
showing forth to the ruling princes,
your unchained spirit of indomitable chastity
Dinas Bran
tell your tales
share them with me
I have travelled far to listen
your walls remaining
huddle forward like greyed old men
around a warming fire
let me sit quiet as the night
in your moon shaped shadow
and dream as you do
walk across my thirsty mind
flagons filled with stories
I will not fear your ghosts
they just want to be heard.
On the 12th day of kiss-mass my true love sent to me
12 dirty undies
11 socks a stinking
10 shoes a humming
9 shirts for pressing
8 trousers
7 days of take-out boxes
6 flagons of beer
5 D V D's
4 mischievous children
3 dozen wine bottles
2 ex partners
and an engagement ring under the tree
Ask you men do ye yet ken still acting in the right?
Of better days and other ways
We faced each day and night
Whispered secrets of delight enchanted dreams of youth
Wisps of withered warps of worth
Without the ring of truth
Who owns it now? that treasured gem
That gleam of treasure lost
Is it yet hid from those and them
Who cannot weigh the cost
In years and weeks and days of time
In buckets flagons tuns
Will yet they whisper scheme, design
To take away our guns?
Mistake me not in normal ken
Who work for daily bread
Beware of theses dogooding men
Who preach of kids in need
Who speak of lofty aims and goals
and live in constant greed
The Welfare State
That Land of Hate
That spills of wants and needs
is grasping like a drowning man In water clogged with weeds
and as he pulls the worker down he brags of his good deeds
We know how much this action costs
In trillions of papered debt
But ask can we consider toll on souls of fools who bet
On future lives of yet un born to pay for all they steal
They'll pay you say in other ways in other days
Who counts? who weighs?
The cost
Of lost?
You'll see the truth
when it comes in on the breeze
Caught in the
moving winds of time
Old realities
pass us by
and we are suddenly
ready for a
sea - change
Deep flagons of
wine
await us at
journey's end
let's move
down the path
with a jaunty
air about us
After all, we have
just gained self
knowledge
Like the sun cutting
through the clouds
Our new songs will
replace the tired old ones
Drink deeply of the fruit of the vine
Laughter is a friend we can count on