Long Purveyors Poems

Could we be doing our best
to invest in Earth's cooperative health markets?
While you sell our most competitive killing machines
to our Saudi Arabian cousins.

Referencing this touchstone as an ecopolitical WinWin,
unlike Parisian multicultural investments in climate health,
as...

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Nightmare 8. To Lose the Gift of Feeling Heard

Is each person not poet when he spills his heart?
Has your verse lost its edge if it’s true no one listens,
Or does God mean that no one...

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foisted upon her was the merry go round crystal chandelier

it stuck in her beautiful mind like a beacon of flaming desire

of clouds fried by a cuckoo with an indestructible socket

her eyes wide upon pupils dilated...

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The personal is political and I take the political quite personal

and please do not get me wrong because I am not one to moan

for only those taking responsibility themselves should be allowed

to criticize what the...

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anticipatory anxiety fosters catastrophization...,

especially bombardment of online scare tactics
courtesy fiendish insidious loathsome sinister oafs
rubbing their hands at aggrieved party;
punch drunk cyber thieves ecstatic
acquiring by hook and/or crook
sought after precious, priceless, and proverbial data
after loosed ransomware...

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The story behind this poem
The curiosity of many of my readers (many of them women) was excited in my previous poem ‘Passion in Black and White’ POTD 6 March. They wanted to know more about...

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Asian Epicurean Quest

At the heart of China Town, Kuala Lumpur (capital of Malaysia) is Petaling Street.
  
Domain of hustlers, hucksters, cheap-jacks and diblers; purveyors of street food, rude t-shirts, and rubber sandles to put...

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An eggplant need not taste nor look like egg,
Nor in a hamburger ham need be there,
Where's pine, apple in pineapple, I beg?
Nor yet french-fries in France invented were.
They native are— American pure blood,
Wherein was born...

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The late night storm rushed into the valley,
Pouring down, 
Creating the sleepy ambiance only a mountains lull can provide.  
The crisp damp air crackles to life at lights first caste over the mountain,
into the...

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Yet again we turn on the TV
And witness horrible scenes
Of unparalleled violence, hatred and despair

Two teenage boys
Decide to kill all of their classmates
Hold their school up
Bombs waiting to destroy

And the cry goes out throughout the...

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Children toil with their buckets and spades sculpt castles into the sand

In joy and in innocence they build towers gates draw bridges and moats

Know deep in their hearts that the tides are stronger than fortifications

Nothing...

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once upon a time there was a handsome dude

made water into wine and then walked upon it

a sorcerer diviner hero and likeable companion

washed sore feet and sins in anterograde fashion

but just the same a clairvoyant...

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Earlier today April 4th, 2022,
which supersedes bald faced headlines 
pointing finger and 
Putin blame for Bucha killings
squarely on head & shoulders
of Russian autocrat, née
yours truly lathered 
his hirsute higglety-pigglety 
thinning oily tresses. 

Hark….the herald angels...

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Watch then the battlefield, from the comfort of your chair
And push the button carelessly, when you can’t stomach any more.
Tell us of the sights you’ve seen, from your bought and paid for seat,
Boast of bombs...

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January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening

Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter 
for mass communication 
mediums stop the presses 
when I, a regular schlemiel 
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop 
(no less than...

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Yours truly does readily confess
the following poem crafted more or less
approximately a year ago,
when coronavirus (COVID-19)
wrought havoc creating global mess
when panic against collective temple did press
a feeling of melancholy and world-weariness.

Along luscious green acres banks...

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alone inside with me, less than inspirational

  so look out for the more interesting folk

  momentary excitement, the fiery motivational

  beyond the familiar, to stoke and provoke

  daydream departure from mundane...

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These people make me sick 
These false prophets
These religious money pits 
These well dressed demons of deception 
Nothing but
Con artists
Liars 
Purveyors of pure sacrilege
Pretending to offer you salvation 
Offering you the comfort of the lord...

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the end nears with Jesus and witches

let us hope there are no more glitches

little baby wears a mask in the manger

conceived socially distant without danger

no Golgotha crowd but liked tweeted clips

zoom calls for blurring out...

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Fumbling through a sheen of yellow
the land and sky merge as one.
and earthly song goes silent.
The stage is set for death to breed,
tendered by phantoms, catching the unwary 
these purveyors of men’s souls 

The rats...

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Lust has such a bad press

          one of the seven deadly sins

              ...

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Along luscious green acres banks steep grade
(in close proximity to 
Petticoat Junction) naturemade
Perkiomen Valley watershed,
verdant landscape displayed
yours truly, (a garden variety
proto human) arrayed

solely donning birthday suit,
whose fifty plus shades hair gone grayed,
i.e. one infinitesimal measly...

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A Look Back at Eighteen Months Here-The Show is Over

When your poems reside in a shoe,
like mine,
pounding the pavement to nowhere.
The onset of blisters isn't imagined.
Those blisters take roots,
hindering your motivation
to move-
and to continue to...

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IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY - LXXXII

    for Carlos Bousoño, the eminent Spanish critic, poet and professor
           who maintained that if...

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When I was in high school,
late 60's,
we were concerned
about the ballistic lose/lose climate of hate
in Vietnam
and spreading across the U.S.

The only smiling winners
were purveyors of ballistics
and their transport vehicles.

Mistrust of an unfederating nation,
bought and sold...

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