Long Faulkner Poems

I wanted to write
 The best slavery poem   ever written—
Perhaps win a Pulitzer or Faulkner. 

I had every intention of conforming 
To the standards 
Of modern verse and composition, 
Lyrics fluidly written, 
Perfect...

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Prelude to what…..

I see you,  /  you / yes, come into my…… 
laboratory of alchemist mystical languaging.
where arsenic spills into the whirlpool of thought 
and savage syntax shatter like glass on concrete.

Where Titans...

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My upcoming political poetry is like. my "prolovue" story in the way that it is themed by coincidebtally famous bears.


The Theme is "I Don't Care Bears"/Signs of the Times Series.


Example

Barbara Crysand is a hypocrite who...

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   Storms seductive desiring of dreams   
   Forms favoring moonlight of beams
    Craving hearts upon starlit nights
    Waving wands of unicorned flights
 ...

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In a sense everything is a seed of it's successor
The universe is change, life is judgement
Those aren't my words, they're a famous author
The rest of these are and what I think he meant
Before you demur...

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I used to be ashamed to say that I
once wrote for a rather large company,
the kind the likes to print up greeting cards,
and for some reason, make Christmas movies.

Now this caused much consternation in me,
I...

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I finished high school in the 60's, a decade of 'Change and Revolution'.                      ...

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Hillary drives a vehicle to the south pole,
Gibson gives us the Flying V.
In football we can now score an extra two points,
and Legos blocks first hit the street.

50 inches of snow on Mason Dixon line,
no...

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I was reading in a Southern Living magazine yesterday that one thing that all great 
southern writers have in their books is a dead mule.  The article cited several 
examples and said that their...

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P S its POETRY WRITE ON WRITE ON CONGRATS TO MY FELLOW POETRY SOUPERS PART 14



Martha L. Kiser                 ...

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Pigs that swim the Caribbean aren't just silly rumors,
Polly is just such a pig, from the island of Exumas ...

Oh, Polly loves the water so, her family loves it, too,
Always tepid, crystal clear, and bright...

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I was a young mother of three darling little girls in the 1980’s, but thanks to TV, and a new invention called a video recorder, these are things that stand out in my mind:

Thriller by...

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Anniversary of My Death 

February 5th, 2018 was the thirty-third anniversary of my death date. 
I always remember it, sadly.
I opened my eyes. Surprised to be alive. Sprawled onto 
hard mean concrete pavement.
Was it any...

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Yes, the verdict is in,                              ...

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Lost was I amidst the Scottish highlands
          The evening sky was blushing heaven-kissed
             ...

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Tell me
how did we get here 
at a swishing swapping party?
(The voices echo in emptiness) 

Bubbly cheerful and happy, naked and raw 
forever bachelors Larry and Harry, 
and the hot mom and the pool boy...

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She nested upon
her self-made pyre
preparing for
another genesis
in blaze hues of love
and together they were
a combustible fire

She, the creature
exquisitely
forged by fire
eternally
existing within
love's dimensions
designed
to mesmerize
us, by swirling amber
scarlet, and purple
plumage
with flecks of cobalt colors
delicately dissolving
amid the firelight
shadows,...

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Words On The Go - playfully plying wordplay
A Reverse Rant, not averse to a terse verse
sublime rhymes of the times, no Writer's Block to unlock
a poem off the shelf To My Teenage Self 
Who Would...

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Up in the old house down by the creek
Stood a mammoth waiting on me.
Blackbirds in the sunshine (are)
Omens (that) fly high in the sky…
Solemnly seizing Martin Luther’s time (of)
Religion and precarious minds…
Down by the river...

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An Anniversary--

                     It was that day again, comes every year,  and yet
  ...

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Love Stanzas

I write of celestial moons and flying carpet rides, 
Of seasonal hues and rising tides. 
I write when golden sunlight fills the skies, 
And emerald hills enchant my waking eyes. 

When the aroma of...

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It will be the anniversary of my sisters death,
in a few days and I will turn back the pages of time.
The mirage comes back to my brain with all the pain,
her blood left a stain...

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Part Time Poet

                     Me a Part Time Poet
       ...

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The world was a troubled place in the '80's, home to a number of disasters
   From the plight of Iran's hostages to the meltdown of Chernobyl's reactor

But in the world of basketball, the...

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Penelope’s in a hopeless quandary, backed into a corner.
She enjoyed the flirt of youth. Had no one warned her?
She rejected freedom of reflection. ‘Who’s she? ...not a saint.’
Penelope painted on her face, mirror-perfection - faithfully...

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