Short Baser Poems

The baser instincts
  within a higher calling
   —pain rewrapped in joy

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)...

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Someone’s sitting on my bench!
Of course, it isn’t mine
And so the person perching on it
Isn’t out of line.

Still, every time I’m out here,
It’s the place I choose to sit
And plunked down someplace else 
I’m liking not one little bit.

There’s really nothing I can do
But grumble and complain.
(From giving in to baser moves,
I simply must refrain.)
...

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Facebook, Twitter, Instagram
are they merely apps, or what I am?
I crave the love, as much as life
I get from all my faves and likes
Am I validated by others thumbs,
their trite largesse, or is it some
much baser instinct that's in play
a need to fill that I can't weigh
A hole inside my tender psyche;
the person that I cannot like
Myself, yes me, the very one
who presses "like" for everyone...

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Erstwhile 
A bucolic 
Was an ephemeral
Dalliance with a redolent 
Resembling the petrichor in the night
The propinquity of the black 
Dressed harbinger was an 
Epiphany 
Of loss

Demesne
Stillness was felt
Until efflorescence 
Of baser passions steam in rage
With the tragic loss of three tormented souls
An outlaw was passing when saw
That serendipity 
Has to be found
Inward


Example for A Day In A Town Poetry Contest
3-13-2016...

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