Long Clinking Poems

The reading of Villon poems at West Berlin’s Free University, Winter Semester 1957-58
                      ...

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Translation of Oothukkadu Venkata Subba Iyer (circa 1700-1765)’s « THAYE YASHODA » by T. Wignesan


This devotional song and poem in Tamil (the principal Dravidian language which has spawned over twenty languages in the southern Indian...

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“You meddling mechanical moron,
you’ve ruined everything,
the thingamabob is running amok,
can’t you hear the alarm bells ring?
You clinking, clanking cretin,
you demented digital dunce,
you never do what I tell you,
and I’ve warned you more than once.
You’re a...

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Cluttering above huddled rooftops
Of sprawling villages 
And shy provincial towns;
Rising sharply amidst swooping
Declinations;
Hesitating when gathering at the
Tangled woodland perimeters of
Outlying greenland bounds,
Jostled apex ridges detach among
Themselves...
When habitually roused from early
Mornings
Newly awakened sounds.

Electrical milk floats whir...

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A fat flat packed duck billed platypus was not on a platter. In fact it had escaped under a robe. With a robin. The robin was to be stuffed into a pigeon which was stuffed...

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I could hear my last thin dimes and pennies restlessly rattling a curse, 
Lying lost somewhere in the endlessly cruel lining of my knockoff purse
Into which pens just disappear through some hole into a mystery...

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The world is like a sea
The countries are mobile ships
When a great plague washes over
Not from scruby, but from corona.

The colonial ships take extreme measures
To keep their colonies safe and secure
By staying indoors to keep...

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Soon is the time when blankets will be tucked under chins
moonlight will wash over frosted trees.
the clinking sound of empty milk bottles
early in the pre-dawn air as life begins to stir from slumber
moving into day.
I...

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We lived in our ancestral bungalow
                            Three generations...

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The Writers Tail liaT sretirW ehT
by Charles Robert Hice on Wednesday, November 28, 2012 at 12:22pm ·
The Writers Tail
the poor writer can not post a poem anywhere to be recognized himself as a poet unless...

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Remember me, the cool glass milk bottle. I used to sit on your front porch early in the morning.  You could hear me arriving before the sun was up. I am a Bateson Model...

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Viva la morning sun


Midnight, dark night, no light, can’t go.
So dark, so quiet, so I guess the neighbours are not home.
Waiting for sleep to arrive, but it never does on time.
Still waiting to permanently close...

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Sometimes I like for my poems to tell a small story that occasionally has a twist at 
the ending.  You never know where my poems might lead until you've read further:


Just Like Me

Monday morning...

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Strung out on a rock next to the sea
I thought I felt all there was to be
The moon was there and the stars came out
Was a  clear warm night without a doubt

I tossed in...

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HUNGARIAN RHAPSODY

Her hand’s swan-like dance,
ivory shadow puppets
romance. Hungarian rhapsody.

The musician sans existence
as emotive fingers move
imaginary marionettes
with splendiferous precision.

Drama drops onto piano keys
occasionally taking a gentle stroll
then in sensuous sway, sashaying
like an exotic dancer. The musician

plucks...

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Lost my kids once just for a  minute or so in the fair:  needle in haystack.
Busy and purposeful Sunday morning. Fascinating bee hive but I wanted my kids back

Thought they were next to...

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THE DEVIL'S WIND-CHIMES

Beneath the dark abyss, in the realm beyond
Hell's blackened gates, a haunting music is played,
It is a sounding's evil of supernatural rhythm, with an
Eerie quality of the ethereal, unleashed unto the underworld,
A tormentor's...

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A strong and new friendship was born at the cancer clinic
Both cry, they had lost the driving force to look forward
The pleasure of a long life and everything they had planned for the future
Hopes and...

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Strong are her hands,
Darkened by summer’s touch,
Now pale like ghosts in twilight's hush.

Could these be her hands?
Did they dip in scented creams
By tranquil pleasure pools?
Did they bathe in moonlit beams
In serenity’s quiet rules?

Did they drink...

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I entered the hotel dining room and sat at my table for an early breakfast, watching the rain pelting against the windows, overlooking the River Clyde. Conversation was limited; more audible the clinking of crockery...

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Hey, Ho! A pub’ng we go… And I’ll bring along, those Zany Trolls.
What’s better, than to drink, with friends, my Dear… as merrily, off we go!

We’ll leave the frats, in the dust, and bring The...

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MARKET    IN    BRITTANY,     FRANCE

Lost my kids once just for a  minute   or so  in the market:   needle in haystack.
Busy...

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Ride over 4000000000 mountains on a baked tray

Times a tide,
Divide a ride,
Equal to no one is the writhe of a sprite,
In a whirl of a rotating rhombus,
Is the real

The reality of an equilateral is the...

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amusing apples how rather interesting
An algorithm is an acrobatic arithmetic on a mean ruler dancing across striped squared paper. Format is firstly founded. Then landing with the pen to form the shapes is always considered...

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                      Bustling Tavern, din of thieves, 
       ...

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