Long Turbines Poems

- 2016 -

- JANUARY -

A freezing cold evening

Where the stars shining bright

With frost blade flanks

From mouth and nose steam

In the clear silence

White untrodden snows

Nature's frozen pulse

Sleep like a little baby

One gracious moon

After the night the...

Read More

This is the third time
I've read Beyond Religion:
Ethics
[non-sectarian, non-partisan, non-violent]
for A (not "The") Whole World
[ZeroZenZone Universe, psychological and politically eco-logical].

In the second, of two, sections,
the Dalai Lama discusses,
in most excruciating therapeutic detail,
emotional positive v negative...

Read More

Back in the height
of our pre-millennial military-industrial
post-revolutionary days
of competing excess...

No, love,
Stick with
Once upon our Sacred Times...

Once upon a time
here in the US of Northern Americas
we used a Reservation Model
to dispose of hopelessly disabled aboriginals,
too RightBrain...

Read More

Once upon an evolving time
we were a great first nation,
or second nation,
depending on your historical perspective,
but definitely not a third nation
although some cooperative economists
thought we might be competing ourselves
in that over-invested and ego-inflationary direction.

This first...

Read More

I guess it never was
The way I thought it was
I say this only just because
You never came to love
I guess it wasn't so
Guess that's how the story goes
You didn't dig my flow
You didn't dig my...

Read More

I was an environmental scientist, working with large wind farm developers,
To harness wind and generate electricity, as a plum sun flees, to tell others.

I worked at helping developers comply, with all environmental regulations;
Minimizing the impact...

Read More

the meaning of life was in love
that man's name was god
god rode the meaning of life's curtails
and recieved everything the meaning of life had sewn

the devil, someone else who loved the meaning of life
did not...

Read More

It's been a little more and two score

Since I revisited all of my most
treaured ghostly line from my
poetic past

Dipped and dabbed my nib in ink
like a knife through endless scraps
of paper wondering if I had...

Read More

The generous character-carried-by them good-old-girls-and boys down-home country-copper-
roof-all filled-up-silos-wheat-turbines waiting ready outside the barn deer-skins pegged down 
low the greater-story askant-of curiosity carrying the pureness of a child as to why... . 
Smoked-up hickory-honey-bubbling bacon...

Read More

Whilst listening out for the pitching and
cresting frequency of the turbines and
blades from the wind farm upon 
Frankenstein's castle on the hill

Mistress of the pale rose deftly ballet
dancing the breeze from the inside out
of a...

Read More

I've been doing my current job for 32 years; lots of travel, places and people.  A few memories stick out; my own Book of Hours, it would be almost one per year. 
 ...

Read More

A transparent parrot makes a very big noise when seed arrives to visit. Mr and Mrs seed have fifteen children, eleven thousand grandchildren and one great grandchild. It is interesting to note bar levels for...

Read More

EarthCare Elders
repurposed our red brick industrial
BrownField

Including a rusted metal box
the size and shape of a giant's coffin
orange and dingy brown
metal flaking paradox
floating toward sacred ground
along river's sweeping fed up bed.

Here lived a racoon mother 
as...

Read More

What did I do today!
By Stanley Russell Harris
The new mad author
& A Poetry Soup honourably mentioned poet

I looked on the Facebook BBC News.
As that’s where I express my views.
As it does say, ‘write a comment,’...

Read More

DAMNABLE DEATH OF A DAISY
Can the sky cry?
Can the sun have fun?
Can the stars have scars?
And can I have a heaviness in my heart lifted?
Because there are too many hoards and whores gifted
But given the...

Read More

DAMNABLE DEATH OF A DAISYV
Can the sky cry?
Can the sun have fun?
Can the stars have scars?
And can I have a heaviness in my heart lifted?
Because there are too many hoards being gifted
But given the wrong...

Read More

DAMNABLE DEATH OF A DAISY
Can the sky cry?
Can the sun have fun?
Can the stars have scars?
And can I have a heaviness in my heart be lifted?
Because there are too many hoards being gifted
But given the...

Read More

the good

The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
happy memories and joyous events,
the loves, and lifelong friendships

A cul-de-sac, though a dead end,
has a circular finish, a merry-go-round
that accumulates...

Read More

Deserted we lie, banished to a shoe box; discarded metal
scraping metal every spring as our ignored box gets shelved 
in a different room of the house; forsaken and further away
from real life. We demand equal...

Read More

Shards of distress pierce me
when probing memories for
     purpose in mournful
deeds; stingy cords dangle
from teetering curtain rods,
     begging me to pull.

Macaroni starch drips into the
sink in slow drips, marching
     along with pattering
pings in the tin basin, making
my yellow...

Read More

The Cinematic Film Treatment as a stand alone element 
in the aesthetic revolution we are now not witnessing


Radiant 

A pilgrimage of enlightenment undertaken by Bob the Plumber after experiencing a spiritual detonation that woke him...

Read More

The word is Catadromous
just in case you need it for
your Final Jeopardy and if 
I was writing rhyme, this is
where I’d throw in cantankerous
for Eels are a contrary lot, and
unlike salmon who spawn in 
freshwater;...

Read More

Lovely lady you know I am a drifter
Life didn’t need to move any swifter,
So many tales over the years,
A drifters life doesn’t consist of fears.

When I told you all about my days,
I’d hoped that in...

Read More

Queen quilt was arguing with prince pillow over a diamante duvet. But diamantes are not difficult dreamers nor diagonal deprivation. In fact it is the elite of every ethos that speaks of a qualifying uneven...

Read More

Day and night, I trip time while crossing datelines. 
Slicing between stars, my ride purrs with speed turbines.

To Walden’s Pond, I frequently, eagerly go
for chats with my hero, the first hippy, Thoreau.   ...

Read More