Long Guttural Poems

your silken skin gleams opaline
bathed in Luna's soft wash of cornflower - like a
porcelain Madonna by Michelangelo
conjured to life by the magic
of moonlight

your eyes open just long enough to
affix mine, and affirm I'm in a...

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Invocation to the Muse

From the gleaming skin of life’s underbelly, 
sin unreconciled, formed from Nephilim seed,
fleet footed jokers mask pawns into flight;
To the epistle of the Most High.
For in the beginning, the true and only...

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I used to slit my arms open like I was peeling fruit—careful, slow, watching the skin give way like wet paper. The box cutter blade was dull, sticky from God knows what—maybe dried glue, maybe...

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When I was young, and adventure routine,
With excitement and newness still unforeseen
I was eager to spread my wings to the world
And seek more adventures as those wings unfurled

Within my long travels I happened to meet
Two...

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Our lusty voice was in the tramp of narrow, winding,
     Scree-littered, deep-rutted roads;     
 Ravens, uttering guttural croaks, slow-wheeling above      
 ...

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Stood I there, that last day,
On an iron bridge...
An aqueduct by design,
Where, looking dreamily out over
The Ernes Lower Lough,
My compressed shadow 
Momentarily paused -
To contently recline:
Amidst coy Junes radiant beams 
of sweet benign!
All was stilled,...

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On the night before Christmas, alone in my house, 
Sorrow gnawed at my soul, like a ravenous mouse.
Entombed in my blankets, I struggled to sleep,
Ready to snap if I counted more sheep.

I rose at the...

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GUNSHOT WOUND TO THE HEART 


From a two-room schoolhouse high on a hill over the Fundy Bay, I sat at an old wooden desk daydreaming. The ink stains and etchings which were dug deep into...

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As I ascend the podium, a predator of piquant pontifications, my eyes ravage the assemblage of adversaries, their countenances a canvas of consternation and morbid fascination. The atmosphere is heavy with the miasma of malignant...

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...the village shivers   a hive of restless souls
skin pricklin' with anticipation
as costumed runners fixin' to gather — hearts a-thrummin'
              ...

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“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”



The Dilettante Diaries: Avian Notes on the Sensate Slip Stream : The Silent War in 3 Acts

(Part 3)

Avian Notes...

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Brainstorming until figuratively blue in the gills...,
and finally gung-ho with a poem title
important to yours truly
not disappointing his Facebook fan base,
which electronic affirmation,
and confirmation, breeds gratification
analogous to being
the proud papa begetting offspring
progeny growing up at...

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Into the woods we ventured, where darkness began to encircle us,
Their ancient murmurs mingling with the forest’s ominous chorus.
A chilling breeze, as if the very breath of the woods sighed,
Veiled in tempestuous clouds, the stars...

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Donald Trump must be permanently lambasted...
and ewe know what else...
furloughed & barred from Whitehouse

Ducks of former self proclaimed Grand Poobah
getting lined up and goosed as these words typed
after trumpeting January 6th, 2021
as violent insurrection
Mitch Mcconnell...

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FROM WHITE HOUSE

I ham aghast at increasing banality, deviltry, ferocity,

   imbecility, liability, obscenity, rapacity, ugly

   offal popularity witnessed by Donald trump

hence aye aerate thoughts, 

   how ass a nine...

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FURLOUGHED & BARRED FROM WHITEHOUSE

Ducks of former self proclaimed poobah
getting lined up as these words typed.

Poor sign,... I ham aghast, where 
pigheaded previous president concerned
at increasing mind numbing popularity
and looming ominous shadow 
witnessed by Donald...

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Alien talk I can’t understand
A Pifflewig performed a handstand
He verbalised through his ass
Gross putrid wind he did pass
Like many blokes throughout the land!

I farted, perhaps it was fear
Foul wind was expelled from my rear
The pifflewig...

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Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression, Loneliness, and Hopelessness
Greet me with strangling arms and leering grins
I...

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Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression, Loneliness, and Hopelessness
Greet me with strangling arms and leering grins
I...

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With scrunched and bushy furrowed brow
   I often ponder the precise circumstances
   that any thing 2 be born this way
   as a poker face
Tracing back lineage of self or
...

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Today,
there are no rubber ducks
or mother's marigold skirts
to hide behind
as we once did.

In their place,
lurking dark and hoary,
a bathtub mist
updrafts thick with loose spores,
and mildew veins
sprawling
behind caulked-over creases.

The day,
shrinking away heavy with time,
as a body
sagging
into
water.

Even...

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Alms Za Try'n To Reach Out As Legatee Wannabe

Yukon pots sib bully challah me Jude
dish hiss literary panhandler schlepping
along virtual figurative boulevard Asia
brogue kin bloke rattling tin cup aware
how quickly passersby dodge away as
if I...

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Searching outside of myself
Far and wide
Looking into the eyes and souls of others
Seeking answers 
Looking for my missing part
Always sensing an absence

Awakening one day with tears in my eyes
A complete realization
I had found my missing...

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A bit of a strange person who lived quietly even secretly
none of his neighbours really knew him except to nod in passing
he would scurry by with barely a nod in return almost mincing
never a light...

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Both feet on the floor, 
Its’ 6am and once again I’m rushing out my door. 
Dressed in a hurry, showered and shaved,
My mind is cloudy, its’ still in a haze.
I rub the crust from the...

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