Long Pelted Poems

Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of...

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Stones do not speak the language of men or of angels.                        ...

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Half a dozen plus years ago the following became a near reality

Countdown to homelessness – 
mars this earthlinked sole Harris - son
panhandler would would register 
pyrrhic victory won.

10…9…8…3..2..1… 
Found me linkedin at the end of...

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My stomach is growling from the coconut trash bubbling in my system, my stomach is growling from toxic energy circulating in the street. My stomach is growling from words people are shouting in the town;...

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The blind man waited, 
at the intersection, for someone
to help him cross the busy boulevard...
and he was accustomed to live in twilight,
fumbling for a hand on his right;
and he finally found mine!


Judge humanly...not pettily,
you could...

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My ebbing physical prowess and strength

noticeably decreases in one direction.

I take lock, stock and barrel 
to revisit good ole days of yore
quite conscious undeclared state of war
prevails within body electric of troubadour
now seated at his...

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Come with me in realty, 
as we weather an approaching storm. 
Dark clouds gathering 
like people coming to see a fight. 
And something about this thing doesn’t feel right. 
A flash of lightning and thunder...

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Written: November 04, 2023, For Jaymee Thomas Contest
                  _________________________________________

Reflecting on this rip-roaring round adventure,
Gazing into the depths of...

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The first anniversary since being pelted...

with pistachio shells April 3rd, 2021
sitting in the exact same chair
yours truly sat three hundred 
and sixty five days ago. 

Watermelons, grapefruits, oranges...
lobbed at yours truly ruled out,
hence the missus...

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                                  It’s...

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Pelted with pistachio shells April 3rd, 2021

Watermelons, grapefruits, oranges...
lobbed at yours truly ruled out,
hence the missus dreamt up bright idea
to enfilade me courtesy pistachio shells.

Rather than just hurl one at a time,
(she who unwittingly helped...

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Regretting Cake Takes Two

Rachael looked sheepishly like a hawk in disguise claws clenched meticulous sharpened
yet hidden her sullen face pressing wrinkled no motion frosted lips the icing on the cake
It had meant to be such...

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Forge on ever foolish
Cucumbers in your relish
Black Smiths and Peasants 
get into the darkness, out of the Parish


The Red Horse gallops, polls, bearers, of holes
Get out of its way, as the
rumors gather Communist ships
 ...

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I take stock and revisit good ole days of yore
quite conscious undeclared state of war
prevails within body electric of troubadour
now seated at his Macbook Pro
today February 20, 2021.

Since January thirteenth of this year
(two thousand and...

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This poem wants to make a change . . .

To be a strong yet silent raised fist in Mexico, 1968.

To stand at a window w/a shotgun writing the words
“By any means necessary”

To sit in at...

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The casement creaked under the scrutiny of darkness

A lonely candle flickered to the tune of one single log

Unhinged she sat where darkness fell upon her face

Which had grown cobwebs and spider lines over time


It was...

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Past the grain fields clanks the old train,
and it goes beyond the fertile valley;
then it vanishes amid the swaying hills,
not too far from the massive castle
built by the Normans, and it's pelted by rain,
washing the...

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There is a crooked fork in Hinchmen Road,
Where ghosts are often present,
gathered around the beating post,
of a frightened female peasant.
Hinchmen Road is nowhere near,
any worldly destination.
One wrong turn and you'll disappear,
into a ghostly recreation.
Two centuries...

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Now that no one can escape
      its time to turn it up a notch,
going over to my other “victim”
           I...

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This is a true story of seven students
Agone days of those ill-famed fiddles
Musing with drolleries – assiduity on catchy missies
And lamed against educators animalism.
Books usually kept aside but concentration hard on last night
Weekends glossed upon...

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“i’m only happy when it rains,”
moans shirley manson when she’s backed by
butch vig & an orchestra of overdubbed
distorted guitars enhanced by sythensizers
a la trent reznor
the genius who is credited in garbage’s first album---
one doesn’t have...

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Penguin the pilchard leapt onto the ice
He flipped and he flopped and arrived in a trice
He took a deep breath and he held it and then
He bellowed with all of his might… “MEN!”

Pilchard the penguin...

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" ... full blast ...."

357 is a great tale to tell...
Tesla saw the steps
so invented his call

And then in the silence 
of Olympian ground

"...I heard you rang?..."
Said d;Meter to them all....

"A cosmic gun" was just...

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LBI, Drifting Sands

Good Morning, Spring.  I know you’re awake.  I see your color rising with the sun.
Through the open balcony door of our third floor suite, the sea breeze coolly streams into our...

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She removed the drops of perspiration from her forehead with the back of her garden glove, leaving nature’s makeup in its place, a small streak of brown soil. As I stared at her, she put...

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