Long Molasses Poems

These 2 different versions are separated by nine years

Part 1

MUST BE SPRING

Small speckles of wild grass 
Looking like tiny green drops 
That had fallen to the earth 
Were the very first sign 

Waving in the...

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Thoughts can be thin fractures in the order of things.
Sometimes my dorm room seems a sterile sarcophagus, like an accusation, or an interrogation about my romantic choices, with nothing warm or inviting there. Sometimes I’ve...

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Newfoundlanders can row, you should see some of'em go,
when they puts a punt on a pond. 
But I don't like this mess, all this Race foolishness,
I'd never seen so much goings on.

If you wants to...

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“Barking Up the Wrong Tree” 

ghost gums
shed their bark 
the min-min 
makes good use of it
papyrus, soft enough to 
imprint and write
thoughts, like the 
ripening welts of 
green ants 
small bites sting
subcutaneous and 
meridional, 
terra...

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"Midnight to 3.33, Morning Kills"



He said, 
“Go to where the poets go
Love rolls wet and sways
Intensity wraps itself inside out
and somersaults its legs backward
to open a way
Out
It’s kind of burning hot 
like Summer burns 
bare...

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The very abridged version recounting untold tragicomic storied life of Matthew Scott Harris

I led a boring life.
The end.

All joking aside, now the epilogue.

As a bookish fellow born January 13th,1959
he attended school and got promoted
as a...

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I.

In the beginning was the Single Stroke Roll—
left-right, left-right, the primordial heartbeat
of existence itself, each alternation a binary choice
between being and non-being, the eternal paradiddle
of consciousness striking against the drumhead of reality.

Listen: the Buzz Roll...

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A rising sun in the east does appear
  from St. Augustine to St. Clair,
to loose me from sleep’s tranquil hold
  and dreams of serendipities of old -
to rise again the boy I was...

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SUMMER

-----------------------
It was one of the warmer summer days
Not a breeze or cloud in the sky
The humidity so high
I could almost reach out
And pluck it from the air

I watched the sunlight
Hitting the north side of my...

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Our first awareness
      falling through time
      through blood-rain, pure white snow, green vegetation 
      down into deep earth
  ...

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“Fire burning in a hill
The lines are rocky rough
Red angels wait to pick remains
The cindered shoulder
Of confused men” 
(Peter Murphy)
 





"On the Cindered Shoulders of Confused Men"



Close your eyes it was all just a bad...

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The Age of Lies 

Inimitable political satirical sardonically charged empirical verse for commiseration.

Collated by the grand vision of lies that seem to defy all consideration.

Berated constantly by a twisting of truth that ruthlessly denies the...

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I’m losing a battle I did not choose to fight in,
I have waited nearly fourteen years for freedom. 
There is still no stopping him. 
I lay next to someone I adore and 
He still clogs...

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Matthew 28:20 Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.

Crimson petals, on poinsettia’s shadow
Healing the heart, broken...

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"Dissolution"



I go to sleep a lot now, 
to escape reality. 
It is as if I am no longer here, 
but there in the other worlds. 
Some dreams are so real. 
Once was a life
where as...

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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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Hydration day’s a month away.
Online belonging company’s an hour from 
startup stardom. Titration hors-d'oeuvre 
Viewfinder pigeonholed 
to rooftop tourist 
traps ruin’d carriage holy woods 
Hollywood's margins, Carousel 13. 
Things You’ll Bury: 
molasses sourdough flowers crypto-
currency...

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Sometimes, life has no reason unlike the seasons
It aimlessly drifts with the wind
We find ourselves in places of unfamiliar faces
Bathing in the shadows of sin
Our souls become lost up in the holocaust
That once was a...

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Are you out of your goddamn mind?
What even is a TOS at this point anyway?
Copper meets gray matter in a stellar show!
Self-inflicted; this is what your ticket paid for!

Here's your endless stream of consciousness
Concisely squished...

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A Wandering Boy with a Song in His Pocket (Part I)
Arabic Poem by: Salman Dawood Mohammed 
Translated into English by: 
Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
===========================

A blaze
Sticking out
Its tongue 
At firefighters
That’s what love is!
***

(2)
Do you remember my soul,
When...

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Dr. Foster lived in old fashioned London, and was content to stay there;
As red roses are content being caressed, by the wind from everywhere.

Dr. Foster loved his daily routine, like the violet repeat of honeyed...

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Jimmy sits restlessly on a cane bottom chair at the kitchen table
   In grandma’s kitchen smelling the fresh sweet aroma of her cooking and baking
        ...

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"Black Molasses"



Black Molasses 
holds to ransom 
footprints 
sucked into 
Tropic of Capricorn mud
as bushfires bleed
sugar from cane
like molten glucose 
shot into the veins
of Mother Earth gone all
libertine sour 
like Lemon Grass
crushed and burnt 
acrid smoke...

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I don’t run with the mob ... 
the mosh-pit, gossip crowd
End of message     Stop!
Just wanna hip you to this fact,
right off the top

I’m a clean living woman,
the mop-and-pail type gal

I know...

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because it  burns  you
you don't like the sun
and the shadow doesn't buy a story,
It knows its edges and the milky ways,
attached to a leaf tail
chlorophyll counts its rays,
sucks energy from its light,
- we...

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