Long Hinterlands Poems

Translation of Mathieu POKORA’s « Je suis tombé, tombé, tombé » by T Wignesan

(NOTE : I just thought I’d translate the lyrics (see the French original herebelow) of this lilting catchy tune not just because...

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How exciting; first appreciable (healthy) snowfall 2024...

within hinterlands of 
Perkiomen Valley Pennsylvania 
occurred January 6th promptly at noon.

Virgin whiteness blankets terrestrial realm
bajillion snowflakes tumble out of sky
atavistic fascination awakened
agog at ice crystals stinging each eye
while...

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Brief Mane n' Tail shampoo tall (tell) tale

Living social amidst 
crime infested urban jungle 
bumping uglies cheek to jowl 
analogous fate being housed in jail
escape room of great outdoors 
spurred subject matter in question
to journey...

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The bombers began to bleed
their heavy tears of death
from 20,000 feet above the breathless battlefield, 
B-17 Flying Fortress formations
moving with apocalyptic aplomb
the shadows of high metal crosses by the hundreds
rippling along the rugged roman earth
bringing...

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The high road, the low road, did it ever occur to the Thinker?                      ...

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History contends that on that score
hing hot summer at 6:00 pm June sixteenth 
in the year 666 after the Devonian era, 
two lovers - a Mister Belmont Me 

and Missy Bryn Mawr Hu felt the...

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I can hardly wait reading welter of books...
courtesy Karen Windle a gift horse
ponied up late afternoon May18th, 2020
over roan nay bore lee volition. 

Unbeknownst how she raised (cane),
and loudly wrapped outside the door
every ounce of...

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Here I am,


In the first fling of youth-

In what sterile field did I find this anti-fecund missive?

This stretching of a hand, drenched in rubbery black; accompanied by a smell; a sewing, cloying end-platform.

If I lean...

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alternately titles: I got noose for you,
Yours truly doth garrotte tee
another itsy bitsy, 
betsy wetsy easy breezy read.

oft times ('specially 
these latter unsainted days and nights) 
in white satin:
death doth haunt me atheistic zeitgeist
which thoughts...

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oft times ('specially 
   these latter un-sainted days and nights) 
   death doth haunt me zeitgeist
which thoughts of my demise
 
   crowds out purposeful thinking  
  ...

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Ah what fair moan
laden fantasy lassitude looms
large if this
chaste ole buoy got cornered
into an alleyway
by a bevy of beefy

buxom babes dead set
on hounding this
doggone codger anyway
shape or form eying
sole asylum madly
sprinting thru a narrow

cookie cutter...

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There is a place called tomorrow
Where this set of politicians
Who claim we elected them
Will all be gone
Even the last trace of their names
Will be no more.
No need naming names
Or pointing fingers at them
You and I...

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"Will you sing for my soul?"
Oh no,..."if I'm lost will you search for my whereabout?",
Thank God I made  no vowed show,
Storms of existence always tell me of an hideout, 
"I will never open door...

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Meandering along Schwenksville Road...
while listening to SiriusXM Radio

An Autumn like day (August 28th, 2021)
found me and the missus venturing
along unfamiliar roads.

Said spouse manned wheel of automobile
courting entering land of the lost,
nevertheless experiencing zest
she drove as...

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Homeward James: by Bill

For the king hath arisen
nsync with royal couture
     decked out and bedizened
to the nines resplendent blindingly,

     I telly you to envision
colorful dress exploding,
 ...

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Galloping within the nights of her innocence
he raced around the field fire chasing the heat of equine glee,
the horn of his head, a wizard's weapon and a witch's wish
with which a poison may be whimpered...

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Progress seems proudly perched on flyovers, 
Sold on many a toll-dotted speedways. 
Each, pylon-pecked, on hinterland hovers, 
And not on friendly crisscrossing highways. 

They slyly gloat over our urban mess, 
And conceal, not care for...

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I've heard it said that if all the people 
who ever lived and died, were buried together, 
it would fill the size of Spain.

No gazpacho, no El Greco 
No Flamenco and no Bolero
Just row upon...

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Deeper still the Woodland calls me
Further yet, she lures, enthralls me
Hapless I, with charms she hauls me
To her unknown hinterlands.
Up, I see the forest giants
Standing tall in self-reliance
Ancient, gnarled, in defiance
Weathering the winter's hands.

Down, I...

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That was then this is now

What an irony that was then this is now
Our silences never felt scarcity of words
And now we search our lost silence
In our heated conversations
With love we placed our stares
On each...

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Somebody should kindly tell if we hail from greed.
For so many years’ darkness has thrown its effect on a nation,
Everyone on the globe tries to please each other.
Sounds of slavery is tearing the heart of...

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They have continued
The naked dance
In the centre 
Of the market square…

Elders and children
Shamefacedly dishevelled 
Have kept the dance 
Of shame
To their chest
Like a golden inheritance…

Sadly we watched
Crying for an end 
To the naked dance…

But nay!...

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THE REBEL ARTIST                                ...

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Every doorway is well lit yet barred and locked.
This is my dream body, it is chasing its twilit shadow
down blind alleyways
pausing only to heave breathlessly
as it comes to a stop
in yet another walled-off cul-de-sac.

Daylight couples...

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The hearts that do not beat
Quiet in the viaduct;
        A steeled echo husked
Alchemic clones vastly entreat.

I slipped you a talking pill
As the loam, pulsing dust of cars
Filled up...

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