Long Prodigious Poems

We might do well
to worry less
about including the grizzly bear population
in our DNA/RNA cooperatively encultured Golden Rule,
after all,
we already would kill and eat them,
if hungry enough,
as they would like to treat us.

We could do well
to...

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Forever forgive me
For my one and only iniquity
Please forgive me
With forbearance eternally

Lots of anger and lust
Got a hold of me…
So, I must...oh, I must…
Set my soul free

Forever forgive me
Determine my footsteps to the light
Emotionally unhappy
Intervene...

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"Conceits"



Such conceits
as veils between 
our windowed worlds 
torn torrential incomplete

mayst thou watch and learn 
the one I spawned, 
strength beats weakness
carried soft and harsh

one direction or the other
strength and weakness
both carried soft and harsh
ego and...

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In the beginning after God had finished creating this land.    
Satan boldly challenged the heavens for the absolute control of man.
Gods’ architectural blueprint stretched for ages across the sky 
He watered the...

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Circa February 12th, 2122 ~ 10:30 PM

Equals twenty one thirty 22:30 military time
future time traveler looks back one century ago,
oceanic waterways overladen with green slime,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd,...

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A boy and board in Brooklyn
bedeviled by the breath of baroque battles
bemused with a belligerent brain beauty
and befriended by battlefield bravado, 
the chessmen championed his ego
wickedly warring to a visionary's voodoo,
those soldiers of black and...

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Future time traveler looks back one century ago

The following poem tweaked 
courtesy original author who crafted
literary endeavor some couple years ago.

Now circa August 20th, 2122, 
or 1930 military time,
yours truly attempted 
drafting id est feeble...

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Trifolium pollinated courtesy bombus

Before landscapers mow swaths
across undulating waves of clover
(the father/daughter team
usually cut grass every Tuesday)
bumblebees alight from one to another flower.

Meanwhile, I lie splayed
mid morning June 28th, 2022
with stomach upon natural carpeting
quietly basking...

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One afternoon Martha the mother of Jack, who was in her early eighties, told an amazing story about her son while having coffee in the parlor with her neighbors; it was a weekly gathering to...

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"Murdering Pluto" 

On Pluto, 
they deal with trauma
in the best possible way,
they murder it slowly 
in poetic hell 
day after day.

the dark Seraphim
have their way. 
their ways are stellar.
some say they hover
in the stratosphere,
but that's...

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As we know, sometimes we can see the big picture by peeking through a keyhole. And in America today perhaps we can see better the state of innocence among young children by looking at a...

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Future time traveler looks back one century ago

I exhibit health and virility at one hundred and 
64 years astride planet earth, whereby spouse,
(who remained married to yours truly for about
one century – which elapsed in...

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I retired a couple years ago
and decided to take a gardening class
because otherwise I probably would starve
even with food stamps,
given my retirement plan
was mainly to live off my still-freeloading adult perpetual-children.

This gardening class cost more...

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Anomalous poetic contrivance evokes...
googling inept kickstarted lame outré jaunty hokum

(alternately titled:
Random screenshot within me noggin
instantaneously transforming, 
née devolving into gobbledygook.)

I got born with poker faced physiognomy,
no matter yours truly doth not play cards
though self same...

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An ordinary young man in his twenties
Working by day, alone by night
Routine lulls him to feel forever serene

Never a new dream or fantasy
Living an obligation
Making his parents proud yet nothing causes him to become too...

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Why does "sacrilegious"
mean struggling against sacred multicultural experience
rather than struggling with re-ligioning monotheistic divinity
as notnot dualling dividity?

How could prodigal sons and daughters
struggle against their prodigy potential,
yet not struggle with our prodigious potentiality?

When would a natural...

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The dance of life spins in ocean
fruitful abundance is life’s devotion
the cosmos and earth created for home
prodigious with creatures do it roam

My eyes are filled with such delight
and hearing the bellows of seals at night
forward...

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Genesis resplendent to me – a garden of Eden resident atheist

Avast abundance of life forms
doth snapchat and buzzfeed
a motley fool of indiscriminate creed
resembled yours truly freed
from those scrambling greed
dully sending hotmail google
eyed hungrily ogling indeed
six...

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The eye wants you to believe
the eye sees everything
it cannot see
your identity
the eye is scared of all your dreams
it fears your individuality

The eye wants you to be
only what it can be
the eye is blind
the eye...

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"The Kingfisher" 

Easters
fast escape us
like every 
Christmas 
comes and goes
like a Graduation
where the parent
is excluded
and the lost 
prodigious progeny
eventually 
makes their quest
for an elusive
Holy Grail
buried under shale
or burnt ashes 
floating on air, where,
the breeze pushes...

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"Within An Ancient song."
A story poem
By, Michael .P. Clarke.

(EPIC.)

Anubis' Temple.

The Valley of kings
Here they were again
No successful dig
This time steps they found
Everyone did dig this day
Digging down
More and more steps
In the depths a mighty door
On...

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I was born in far Morsania,
a small, backwater Eurasian state,
known to most folk in this wide world
for my grandfather’s prodigious hate.

My given name is Jocefeus,
but I mostly go by Joe these days,
because that tyrant grandpa...

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Autumnal hint faintly tinges air 
finding this mortal 
     bewitched by blare 
ring refulgent radiance, 

      which quiets viz cheer
ring, harkening murmuring analogous,
   ...

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Alice
Alice was just going on eight years old
When Lewis Carroll made her fall down a hole.
The incredible place she imagined she'd found,
Buried in her backyard so far deep underground,
Teemed with people and creatures with fabulous...

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Exracted from Gerald Nforche's Epic, The Slave's Tale


-Across the Atlantic, 1793-


We cry out cursing to our very gods
Whilst mokala and plotters lead us in lots.
And slaves we have become, slaves we are groomed
And setting in...

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