Long Linens Poems

“Sophisticated lady” gropes the table at her bedside, blindly taking random swipes to kill the morning scream 
That shatters little privacies she shares with no one else, and steals, with full impunity, her one recurring...

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“Sophisticated lady” gropes the table at her bedside, blindly taking random swipes to kill the morning scream 
That shatters little privacies she shares with no one else, and steals, with full impunity, her one recurring...

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Here's the deal, friends...
   This is, as indicated, the THIRD 1/3 of this very lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this piece had to be posted in 3 parts! 
 ...

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’Twas early on the first day of the week
that Mary Magdalene set out in gloom;
The prospects for the morn were rather bleak,
anoint her master's body in the tomb.

While she was yet far off, she saw...

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Gathered in the shade of her quaint little garden, 
 where a trellis was woven with rose climbing vines,
   something enchanting, had been deftly designed, 
     on an ordinary...

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THE BLOODY TOWER

I am so trapped a phantom princess, on an ethereal plain, spiritually
Forgotten in isolation's domain, in hell's chamber of brick and mortar,
In this imprisonment of the unjust, I'm the innocent accursed, in England's
Bloody...

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Every friggin day
mother hen runs amuck,
while all chicken's
beady eyes appear awestruck
drawing particular
agitation, irritation, perturbation...

of Punxsutawney (Doctor) Phil
(well grounded) woodchuck,
the latter glaring at henpecked
yours truly rifled
tail feathered rooster,
whether communicating 

nonverbal sympathy
towards me, a garden variety
Gallus gallus...

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Forecasts

 
'...the burnt-out end of smoky days'

                            T.S....

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So many thoughts permeate my mind that once comforted this body. You replicated the feeling I get when I lay on top of warm clean linens, high-count thread, comfort. The scent of your perfect body...

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As the sun rises, it casts its glory upon her exquisite anatomy
While during the night death stole one more.
It seems he steals more often these days 
With no mercy, in silence, 
His coldness courses through...

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'...the burnt-out end of smoky days'



                    T.S. Eliot


 

l



 



The evening rumbles in 

and grumbles, tea...

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Catholic

Stern but saintly Father Meissen 
scolded the parents for not having 
their baby boy baptized sooner. 
It was April, 1952,
inside the stained-glassed catholic church,
ensconced on sun-split Newlin street, 
avenue of pink oleanders and cracking sidewalks.
According...

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Running cracks of lead flaked paint, spiders across the front door like a grandfather's
forehead. 
Its hinges squeal from years of inattention and forgotten maintenance
Floor boards moan a song of dismemberment and forgotten age
While musty gloom...

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Dream on, fair maiden, of distant lands
and the knights with whom you ride.
For tomorrow will come and upon the day
you shall become my bride.
Then dreams should cease and control thee, I shall.
For you will be...

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I can't recall the day you left
 Empty words going west

~To The West Coast~

My love, my sweet love -- my soulmate
I will cherish our time, with the sun
My love, my friend, my lover
Today we part,...

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Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on a chair, reach up to shelves so high
to mother's boxes...

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l 

The evening rumbles in 
and grumbles, tea is served, the kettle 
whistles, bread 
is buttered, weary workers settle, 
nibble, drink their tea and chatter, 
as the platter's 
passed around and cakes are proffered 
in...

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A lone blade of grass

The sense of nature sweet with fragrance flourishing

In times of uncertainty marked on a blotted page
Within solace we release its pain,
Shouts of madness torn asunder.
Pilgrims progress sharpened its pencil

Insanity

Marked on a...

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What if there was a passage way down to the ocean

Tucked away within the wall an eroded cave

Cool breeze always in motion as azure, Turquoise Ocean  swirls

Breathing in deep reflecting a show of rainbow...

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'...the burnt out end of smoky days' - T.S. Eliot


l

The evening rumbles in 
and grumbles, tea is served, the kettle
whistles, bread 
is buttered, weary workers settle,
nibble, drink their tea and chatter,
as the platter's 
passed around...

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...inspired by T.S. Eliot

          ******
l

The evening rumbles in 
and grumbles, tea is served, the kettle
whistles, bread 
is buttered, weary workers settle,
nibble, drink their tea and chatter,
as...

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as it can b 

 here’s it-cursed
 tossed,crossed, 
lost-indentation 
a winter  numberer,may be    
“evacc-ed  ejectt inject  deject-ed  subjects  -  ”as you like it,man
 “missed Ann entire...

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'...the burnt out end of smoky days' - T.S. Eliot


l

The evening rumbles in 
and grumbles, tea is served, the kettle
whistles, bread 
is buttered, weary workers settle,
nibble, drink their tea and chatter,
as the platter's 
passed around...

Read More

l 

The evening rumbles in 
and grumbles, tea is served, the kettle 
whistles, bread 
is buttered, weary workers settle, 
nibble, drink their tea and chatter, 
as the platter's 
passed around and cakes are proffered 
in...

Read More

Alphabets Voyage 

Just last week the alphabets walked off into the sky
Taking Saudi Arabia and China’s colloquial scripts along 
With pages, other fibrous substances in disguise, into the ages
Hiding white as ghosts on vast tracts...

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