The unpopular
express
their popular strings
to the garrison, contained
within
safe boundaries, there,
their thoughts
pirouetting words
hung,
the black beetles
shine
like exotic
fresh water
pearls strung
waving like
green peas shelled
nonchalantly cast
into boiling pots
not of their own making
in the soup of
the fifth estate
boiled well,
swallowed
and regurgitated,
muses
the pods left wide open
floating in the nowhere
like emerald boats without sails
blinking
internal,
forever behind
the eternal fringes
Candide Diderot. ‘24
homonyms
Categories:
fringes, muse,
Form: Free verse
… is a drunkard
Swilling vintage regret,
Tears falling for undared dreams,
Anger spewing over unrequited love.
… is endless replays of yesterdays
With circular insightful wisdom
As likely to reverse life’s ills
As scrubbing dirt off hills.
… is stolen joy in the gloom
Of memory’s moldy greenhouse
Where fancied success blooms, hiding
Mocking hyenas and nightmare roaches.
… is a pustulated soul
Hunkering in a mental bunker
Sniveling nose dripping a green past,
Dreaming victory will roar as thunder.
… is Salvador Dali droop
From the fringes of reality
Or a joy until truth
Flushes it to a cesspool.
Categories:
fringes, dark, depression, dream, emotions,
Form: Free verse
Nobody ever listens,
so I stopped talking at all;
Fading to invisible,
but oddly comfortable;
Reached out, nobody was there;
Left on the fringes of thought;
Silence revealed what was real.
Categories:
fringes, emotions, feelings,
Form: Free verse
Time is of the essence, when I get my hair cut,
Impatiently waiting in turn, gives me dandruff,
Barber’s damn slow, chatting, making small talk
Oh hurry up man, I’m in need of a new Mohawk
Three more ahead of me, staring at the walls,
At least two of them, already suspiciously bald
But the other one, he has me seriously scared
Wears a big long coat, his hairy feet laid bare
At last it’s my turn, barber asks what’ll it be
A fantastic punk style, nice and spiky suits me
So off he goes, razors and scissors a blazing
Going cold on top, I’m sure I feel him shaving
Ok we’re all done, that’ll be twenty five bucks
I look in the mirror, to see a scalped Friar Tuck
What the hell I yell, that’s nothing like a punk
Oh dear thought you said, a monastic monk
I’m a holy show now, of that you can be sure
All I require is a robe, go with my new tonsure
By
David Kavanagh
Categories:
fringes, christian, hair, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
Where am I in you?
Am I just sitting on the
edges of your mind,
Easily flicked away
when you haven't the time?
Am I just a peripheral vision?
A perimeter friend?
Do you just glance through my glass
quickly,
then out again?
After all this time,
Am I still just on the fringes of your mind?
Categories:
fringes, desire, how i feel,
Form: Free verse
The older I get
the louder the Muse does parade
The shorter the moment
the deeper her message invades
The older I get
distant voices filter and fade
With death on the fringes
—all focus recentered and staged
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)
Categories:
fringes, death, muse, truth,
Form: Rhyme
Arrange to challenge fringes of soporific syringes
Range not to derange organized order
Singe not, whinge not on top of hinges
Binge not, cringe not and wreak not disorder.
Range not to derange organized order
Read but don’t misread signs of torrid times
Binge not, cringe not and wreak not disorder
Lest you should brood and groom uncomfortable climbs.
Read but don’t misread signs of torrid times
When the writing on your wall sends a meaningful message
Lest you should brood and groom uncomfortable climbs
As consequences in sequence prohibit your procrastination passage.
When the writing on your wall sends a meaningful message
Singe not, whinge not on top of hinges
As consequences in sequence prohibit your procrastination passage
Arrange to challenge fringes of soporific syringes.
Categories:
fringes, poems,
Form: Pantoum
In the 60’s, I would binge
On anything that sported fringe.
My leather jacket decked with beads
Had fringe that such a jacket needs.
My brown suede belt I wore down low
To hug my hips (the status quo)
Had fringe that anyone would crave.
(I wish that one I’d thought to save!)
I have one fringe-y sweater now.
Designers seem to disavow
This style, but if I’m on the fringes,
Joy in me this fringe unhinges.
Categories:
fringes, clothes,
Form: Rhyme