Long Strews Poems

The inky black water sucks her in further
As she descends into the black depths of the abyss
Cloying dark swirls cover her head as soundlessly it reaches
Possessing her every inhalation – exhalation - it envelopes her...

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Electorate witnesses wounded beast...
flailing, lurching, and writhing in throes of agony

Trumpets blare acknowledging
crack hunters lucky strike,
i.e. bullseye salvo shot at
innocuous yet brutish
and nasty looking Homo sapien
courtesy elite militia incapacitates,
(yet doth not kill) mortal enemy.

Tis a...

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Another exercise in metered-rhyme - these are fun to compose - 


I wasn’t actually searching for, and certainly not expecting, to stumble onto someone that, let’s say, would - light my fuse,
When, almost out of...

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"Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house;
can you hear the whispering? " 
Quote by _Constance La France 

I suspect that most major cities have abandoned houses.
I have lived in three large American cities,...

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-- an exercise in metered rhyme...and not my most reverent piece -- 


I wasn’t actually searching for, and certainly not expecting, to stumble onto someone that, let’s say, would - light my fuse,
When almost out...

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Sandro Botticelli's
     masterpiece
Primarvera
        painted in 1478
     with no clear explanation for 
the combination of characters
     ...

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The miasma of Understanding 

Been raining and the pale nature is green again like a new spring, but 
it is a fake spring, in end of November winter will pale all living plants in 
submission....

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I yearn for shades of Autumn and all that it could bring 
the chromis strews of redding bricks the chilly burrr 
Blushing apples high as kites tied to apron strings   
and acorns full...

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She isn't beautiful as Nefertiti was.

And unlike Helen, 

her face will never launch a thousand ships.

My Maggie's beauty is more open, than entrancing

more welcoming, than enthralling, 

more giving, than demanding, 

more durable, than perfect.

Perfection inspires...

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Tuesday afternoon in November. 


Well this is, the ending of another day I’m looking out
 of the window the road is clean and tidy after rain.
The sun is coming out of hiding and strews golden...

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Silent Night the heaven's sang
While shepherds wathced their sheep.
With Camels bearing kinds on high
To lay reverrently at HIS feet

Gold and Frankinsense and Myrhh
the symbols of His life.
A life so filled with sweetness
With love and full...

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Love is a spirit of all compact fire – William Shakespeare

Love walks on faery footsteps
In the garden of my soul
With long, red hair that falls in wild folds
About a face of undefiled beauty
Wherein two orbéd...

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when the evening  wind dies
upon the mountain top,
when cold silence chills the night with her tongue,
when the shadows bid the forest be still;
i will return home to your arms
where dreams hatch 
and the world...

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Sucking the gentle light from the sun
 fresh  grasses
Spring is awaking sleepy universe.
Buds are smiling,
Sky is turquoise
How a fairy this morning is?
Pure waterfall in the middle of green garden
Willow slowly brushes hairs down.
Tulip is...

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Oil Change 
I’m not a poet never was, but I like to tell stories 
Most of the stories are for my inner ear, 
But for some reason my collections are called poetry.
I’m a practical chap,...

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Cold weather front

 A few good days fooled us the cold weather returned we thought it was 
early spring. I worried if my almond tree had its buds been damaged
and will not bloom and strews...

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Once a Christmas 

The sun was blood red looked like a big wound
on the flank of an elephant shot by poachers.
Dripped blood on white, wholly cloud which slowly
turns red as the bandage of a fatally...

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There’re seasons for singing and seasons for sinning,
Both of them can combine:
A feast for a glutton is only beginning,
Naked slaves pour out the wine.

The eunuchs are dancing, the minstrels are playing,
When the Black Stranger arrives,
But...

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Christmas Rush 

The sun was blood red looked like a big wound
on the flank of an elephant shot by poachers.
It dripped blood on white, woolly clouds which
slowly turned red as the bandage on a fatally...

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My wife, my huntress, rides the Holy Wind,
But still, daisies adorn her thick brown hair!
Her muslin robes blow out, her hair's unpinned,
Let dark thoughts try to chase her, if they dare!
For she outrides them all,...

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Ambiance flourish, 
Strews cool odour of spring;
Feelings swing in inebriation;
Dreams too flow,
In the drift of bliss;
All seem awesome, 
Feel like life in paradise;
Narcissism blinds our eyes,
See nothing except green;
Veils our mind,
Lurks our thoughts;
Forget there is...

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Sunday at the Marina

 Water in the marina, clear as diesel 
fish swimming close to surface
in peace of seagulls, 
which know they stink of human
waste. 
This is not the fish that
will feed the five thousand....

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Behold it's in my heart
Knocks the drums then
With own feathers' 
Nightingales moaning.
And over the salty' waves 
Gulls fly.
 
I pay what remain 
from the days of joy
Near the heart shades.
Maybe in the midst of sorrow
The...

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False Spring 
End of September is a strange interlude 
in Algarve´s countryside. 
Flowers suddenly bloom and yellow grass
turns green, for a few weeks it looks like 
spring before sinking back to winter gloom.
The cork tree,...

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