Short Blunted Poems

Close-cropped, careless cast,
Body blunted by each week's
Doldrum-diving fast....

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night 
looks black
but
when the earth
was young,
Summer
     was evident
all about,
          hills 
           exposed
to no shade,
shelter
     blunted
      by
         time...

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Peace be in your breathe
and in your silence
in your tidings
of gallant appeals
for multidious sea loaves

Peace be in your Sunday picnics
in your seeing
old friends pass away

Let it be in your jazz
and blunted blade
and grizzled bear, that got away...

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…the shape of dreams
              …ocean glass
blunted drunk
on pebble tumble
by deep winter wave mortal cut
sparks of fire 
effervescent
stirs in old memory 
colors tossed beautiful 
with the flick of the sun 
nimble cheek kisses
on cold wind
find 
a wandering tear  
...

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1.
mind's edge blunted
desert devoid of markers
my tears wet dry sand

July 29, 2014

2.
seasonal picture
don’t let me add a thing please
your haiku not mine

June 6, 2016

3.
missing photographs
real content camera shy
skit artist needed

June 6, 2016
Brian Johnston...

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woken up by the yelling and crying
war hungry fearful people dying
foggy cells stinky mouth
gazing through the window broken
 unpainted dirty stained
with the red spits of 
my ancestors
dinosaurus
they were still running crying blunted
war is on fear descent encroached
windy and cold i started to 
cry too...

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4 sullen swords 
4 truncated tombs
4 comatose clocks
4 querulous quatrains

We of the Absurd
We of the Timed Out
We of the Checked Out
We of the Hanged

our candle-like Keywords
wax and wane UPRIGHT
cough up the REVERSED card
confined in blunted light

enter the Knight of Keyboards
spiritless warrior
brandishing weeping sword
time for The Rest
...

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One  fringe of image
disconnected, a knife within,

in a trench
battle still continues between you
and yourself

for ending of animal. Did it bleed?

Home was still faraway
a secured period.
Bouncing euphoria.

blunted and bailed out
paper thin memory
of broken mirror.

O Unseen,
take a bow,
lightning for a requiem
in sky, was embossed !


SATISH VERMA...

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I dress in ashes of our love
The fire that burnt so bright
Has engulfed
the man i was
This husk is held together
with ripped shreds of tissued lines
Of promises dead and
buried scattered
in tear swollen eyes
And hope raises a blunted dagger
hiding in my shadows gaze
And the days that haunt the night
and seconds that procreate dead moments
and willing the stars to see me...

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Have I finally truly said it all
running out of words
Thoughts and feelings too remote
my pen a blunted sword

The doors revolve and seasons change
as Winter calls my name
Whose grammar laced with period ends
and fingers stricken lame

A final time my eyes shut tight
to fall into a dream
Just one more word—new phrase to grace
reaching for the cream

(Villanova University: July, 2022)...

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Looking in the mirror
Dead eyes blunted and wasted
A broken face scarred and withered
The smile a whisper of sand on a ocean desert
Tiny downward curves mirror either side
A face of abdication and abandonment
No fight left, no warrior left standing
Time pushes me backwards to stumble over life
Long spent tears and love curdled
Once unmovable now unmoved
Rejecting the image in hateful disdain
Pity for the life betrayed
and mourning the long dead life...

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Another numb citizen anaethetized to atrocity by forever exposure,
Another perfect being being perfected under the knife of celebrity,
Another beautiful animal lungs & fur stained black by industry,
Another blunted soul mind mundaned by menial labour,
Yet another poet, throwing numb, perfect, beautiful, blunted prose to the wilting world,
Praising the invisible she with recycled words, Hailing who knows who through the smog of 
society with his attempts at lucidity....

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Written: September 17, 2023
Lets Minichu on Fear                                  Sponsored by: Mohan Chutani  
_____________________________________________________________

Stop dropping my hand, Dad
The harshness of the epoch agonizes minds
Need to keep my eyes clad

A harsh anguish
Bleak brownout brewing, blunted blinds
Languish

Partake
Passion reminds
Stake

Stop dropping my hand, Dad
Bleak brownout brewing, blunted blinds
Stake...

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DEAD RECKONING

That stain of guilt, it haunts me still
And it will live with me until
The end of days, when that arrives
As we account for all our lives
In that moment one pays the bill

A veil of black, no tuck or frill
When ink has dried upon the quill
And rust has blunted all the knives
That stain of guilt

When all sorrow has had its fill
And others may think what they will
Then, so very little survives
The balance is reduced to nil
That stain of guilt

...

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For safety reasons it seems fine
To smile and say hello 
To anyone who's passing by 
On streets of neon glow
For deeper reasons it is good
To hear our music loud
And to reread the books we should
Know well what they’re about
For some of reasons falls a rain
To clean the road I choose
Sometimes it feels like blunted pain
To which I can’t get used
For reasons we don’t understand 
But maybe the most wise
We see the lark that still ascends
Into the depth of skies. 

...

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Dave Grigger is marinating in the tub.
Stopped by the Dollar-General and
got some bubble-bath. Feels like a
a jacuzzi at a midget night club filled
with gassy-ass dwarfs.

Reach for the cigs - wait - 
dab hands on towel to dry.
Cool.
Now reach for the cigs, draw
one, like a blunted dagger
of delectable carcinogens.

Got no matches.

The head of a German Shepherd emerged
from the bubble bath.

My work was not finished, damn.

Gotta picket a few more abortion clinics....

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So you think

Think you can tell

A refrain

From a blocked drain

A dream from a night terror sweat

A flight from reality

One day from another

A truth from a lie

Blunted passion from lust

Love from the grave

A tear from an onion or a blade

Blood from a friend

A bend from a straight

The dark from the light

Before and when the time 
has come

So do you still think you can tell

And have gotten your affairs
in order

Before you are told you can tell...

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To be honest with you all
I am but a hack, a fraud
I contain no heart nor soul
And my mind a blunted sword.

Having moments to reflect
I now know this to be true
Searching deep within myself
For what else can a man do?

I gaze into the unknown
Into chaos and darkness
My head spinning in pain
How much left is to confess?

With paper and pen, I write
All my thoughts down as I go
This well now empty and dry
What is left for you to know?

(7 syllables per line)...

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