Long Gridlocked Poems

Schvitzing for more'n sixty hours without electricity
(visit https://www.aol.com/?ncid=
crosssellusaolc00000003 - for further details)

Courtesy rare derecho
killed four people
nearly forty eight hours ago
power outage affected more than
half a million people
in mid-Atlantic states.

Residents in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
(the poet's hometown)
smack dab...

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Silicon city
That pulsates,
Both day and night,
The Tech Capital
And the sky, veiled
With urban haze
And dense, sprawling cityscape.

Grey city of its
Gridlocked roads
Surrounded by
Towering skyscrapers
Inspiring
The coder
And the entrepreneur.

Glass city
Of its
Modern offices
And its apartments
Compact and sleek,
New and bold,
A striking,...

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From cold concrete floor to plaster ceiling
in cardboard boxes, damp and peeling;
beneath migraine fluorescence,
humming, blinking incessance.
They languish spectrally bound and gagged,
indexed, filed, stamped and tagged:
a desert vista of yellowing paper.
They say nothing,
travel nowhere.

Confetti never thrown...

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A cat attempting a headstand is akin to a gridlocked caterpillar visiting an air show of duck aero gliders. Aero gliders are neither glimpsing nor glimmering but glimmering could often be mistaken for a cider...

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No more new year resolutions,
 no more lie on government restitution,
 no republic can survive its dilution
 no more pandemic blues,
 no more wild-eyed cons[iracy cues
 no more revenue that's due,
just a prayer for every...

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SOLITUDE SOLILOQUY 
by Mark Miller © 12/22/2014

Like a suicide a funeral wake opens my bleached eyes of cobweb swirl  
Fog's fear rolls through  sleeps slumber nightmare torment land play 
Walking into unseen voice...

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Hello Hello  my fair weathered friend
Your CO2 has risen again 
Like a wave of negative omissions
Keeping us gridlocked in confusing seasons

We need a great escape before it is too late 
A plot to plan...

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Rabbits at junctions are often akin to moons at traffic lights. A light lunch is preferable to a whisky scone when taking a picnic to a lake. But playlists can play so font argue with...

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I used to move as fast as cars
runways built in space and mars.
I would dart as far as I could trace 
the words moving off the chart

Every other sound that rhymes 
Feels like argh, I...

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The ballast of our Thursday afternoon
in the countryside lays distilled in your face.
Yawning like a cow in pasture eating sweet grass
your words flatten the moment.
Having no capacity of knowing
what you might see in an endless...

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windswept windsurfing wallabies warbling whales wailing................................................................................

A pink fish travelling with a tea towel is neither in a rush or dirty. Gridlocked gorillas getting grapes gracefully glide. Seafront mystery in windswept hair carrying a carrot, a...

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I want to live and die at the same time,
In this asylum, I am nothing but a dime.
I pray for the grotesque fame,
None, but the Master wants to get me out of playing this game....

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The Harley Davidson and me

Hover bikes of the future
Really not for me
Give me wheels upon the ground
I want my Harley D
My veins all feel the power 
When the engine starts to yell
Cos now I am...

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chromed attics

patrolled by magnified dragonfly schematics

quivering silvers, rippled submarines

enlightened black magic

black dawn hawk borne of ashes

manifested in tragedy then smashes

smithereens flit to unison

babe on the nipple fades blue, leaves an only son

falls on the roots,...

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We look for an off-ramp,?
into or out of something.?
Without wheels?
we drive through our own chaos?
searching for other searchers.?
We guide each other?
over self-made ditches,?
If one falls we all fall,?
a heap of bodies becomes?
a tangle of nowhere.?
Entrances...

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A gauche gaucho, 
a galoot,
rawboned and grizzly, 
rode into 
a snoring border town.

"Google me," he said, 
as he hitched his mare to 
a wild hair.

The cranky cowhand 
had gambled on 
an internet cantina being open...

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Twenty-six stories high,
I look down to illuminated veins, blinking red and then white;
The city is alive, breathing through concrete lungs.
Up to the ninth floor.
Two glass bottles on the ledge sit empty;
The painted walls hold my...

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A gauche gaucho,
a galoot,
rawboned and grizzly,
rode into
a snoring border town.

"Google me," he said,
as he hitched his mare to
a wild hair.

The cranky cowhand
had gambled on
an internet cantina being open
but the only horse in town
had been gridlocked...

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