Long Clatter Poems

In the intimate interlace of chance and fate, in the ultimate interplay of time and place, and with the consummate checkmate of my human dignity, all that is -- is over, in the stormy, swarming...

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t         e         t        e   
     ...

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He wondered with horror how so many memories, so many forms to be branded on his skin and engrave there.

Then the wet rattle of a twisted throat, and he beats his last breath to his...

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Metaphor of outrage, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : Metafora del desafuero

			                    ( In celebration of...

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Number one.

"Good morning. Would you like tea with your breakfast?"

No. I want milk with my porridge but it hasn't yet come."

"You will have to ask them." 

"Who's them? Who should I ask? Which one?"

"The people...

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'Twas a sound I thought alarming, most assuredly disarming;
Up I rose from peaceful slumber to discern what it might be.
While my candle flickered, wavered; whilst my heartbeat halted, quavered,
At my window I was favoured by...

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What is this sound through day and night?
This eerie cry, this muffled moan?
Like an animal trapped alone 
in distant darkened wood. 

It does not stop, save brief respite,
to draw some breath, and then again, 
unearthly...

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I Will Always Love

Darkness greets this unwelcome day, 
Dreams of happiness fade away, 
They're gone before the sun's first ray; 
Tears are all I'm capable of.....
Yet, I will always love

At times, lacking the will to...

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'Twas the night before Christmas and all were asleep,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a sheep.
The cattle were snoozing, the pigs were at rest
And the chickens were settled asleep on the nest.

Apart from some...

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As promised to Sara Baker... here is the Night Before Christmas, 
Cajun style ~ by James Rice
                  ...

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Housekeeping not a strong suit with the missus

(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)
regarding following lines courtesy the missus,
who adventitiously, inadvertently, unknowingly
allowed, enabled and provided inspiration I
attest Frau Harris inspired me as she lies abed.

Flush with rage the...

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'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there

The children...

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(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)

Hence plead ding for 
Mary Poppins wannabe
with snap of her fingers 
can affect ship shape
tidiness, which task 
needed before May 2022 
when yearly inspection 
indeed takes place.

Flush with rage the spouse 
will...

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Where’s the tinsel that made the tree look cold
have not seen the popcorn that was hung so old
those huge colorful bulbs always got into a snag
 I did the tree back then and I just...

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Housekeeping not a strong suit with the missus

(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)
regarding following lines courtesy the missus,
who adventitiously, inadvertently, unknowingly
allowed, enabled and provided inspiration I
attest Frau Harris inspired me as she lies abed.

Flush with rage the...

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Darkness still needs to be a portion of the sky,
It symbolizes grasping the cosmic matrix. 
Alas, it did not rise by a twist. It's the basics,
As morrow never rolls to spell crux truth, high.

A spark of...

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ZEN DEATH HAIKU XII

These are my modern English translations of Japanese Zen Death Haiku. 

Both victor and vanquished are dewdrops:
flashes of light
briefly illuminating the void.
—Ouchi Yoaka, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael...

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strife riven island corner, rough hewn by rival visitation
  vexed, looking in, looking out, on the edge of places to go
  thrang in thrall of other realms, banners furling, batons flung
  across...

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the bay
Not a soldier was stirring in the hall or the way.
The clothes were all hung in the lockers with care
In hopes that the I. G. soon...

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The summer sun was high. The heat was oppressive.
The whalebone corset dug into the body's tender parts.
Peering from the shop, my hand touching the pane
of dearly brought glass, I feel the vibration of the incoming...

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(Only fellow hose-heads will understand this)

In the dream
friends from long ago in a strange bar
gently push me back
saying that they have colds
and wouldn't want to infect me
I am wearing a mask for breathing
it supplies air...

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Stork flights in unison                               ...

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The summer sun was high. The heat was oppressive.
A whalebone corset dug into my body's tender parts.
Peering from the shop, my hand touches the pane
of dearly brought glass it vibrates with the hoof-beat of riders.
The...

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High noon in Fort Laramie, the summer sun is oppressive.
A whalebone corset digs into my body’s tender parts.
Peering from the shop, my hand touching the pane
of dearly brought glass, I feel the vibration of incoming...

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Grey is ana in-between colour that is most secretive in a window smudge. But when the cleaning cloth arrived it simply disappears then reappears when the cloth has left. Thus leaving a very grey mass....

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