Short Closeted Poems

Clairaudient Claire clambered to cling to her cliquish closeted clan
Clutching cloistered clues, clarifying a clumsily closed clergyman....

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the Wuhan bat
we've already seen quite enough of that
the Baseball bat, sadly sequestered,
closeted now, we cannot bear to look, it festered....

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Socks 2

Sucked into the vacuum
Outside the realm of bliss
Closeted in claustrobic tears
Knit stitch dropped, ladder falls
Solitary socks seek new pairing

3/26/2018...

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Closeted belief…
 atheist's disguise

Slings and arrows,
 boomerang's surprise

Empty of graces,
desperate to fill

Shot through the heart
—their spirits to kill

(Noon Mass: St. Thomas of Villanova Chapel, February, 2020)...

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Night wrinkles on dim hangers.
Bell-bottom pants,
two-toned platform shoes,
a `kipper' tie,
unhinge from time and mind.

The closet door clicks shut.
Empty hangers swing-on in the dark,
rocked now
by the surviving members
of every rock band
that ever broke up....

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Listen to poem:

"Obscurus fio." -- Horace (65-8 B.C.)
("I strive to be brief and I become obscure.")

Dark. I wait,  in 
a corner of night
on the edge of fate.
At a worn-out table
with marred veneer,
a blanket of dust
to keep me here,
a burnt-out bulb
for consolation:
closeted in silence.
Bound in desolation....

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Raising a barrier with an expression of a trunk barrel is quite astonishing really. Whilst holding a booking breaming fish at a straightforward angle. In sunshine or at schools in closeted cupboards eating a lot of cakes then. Dance with ninety six thousand frogs. Hahahaha and a few long pies. Hahahaha xx longitudinal xxx...

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Time is money
As he locked the door, a palm came open
waiting for dues to be paid.
How many hours, days, weeks can you pay your wage?
So is the length of your life.
Thirty-five citizens of a town called La Dolce Vita
And closeted-in, they gave their worth
to breathe air once again.
Time is money
but living is far more....

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The air hung heavily
depressed by the golden fall
of the sugar maples leaves
ripe with the sweet smell of Ida Red apples.

Rain-washed the breeze blew
through the clapboard’s chinks
into the closeted rooms of man.

Rabbits, raccoons and deer forage
amongst the autumn crops of chard and kale.

All of creation
prepares
for the long night....

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Valentine Attributes 

Crusading dictations
Gathering together
Professing devotions
Arousing emotions

Holiday flourishing
Underlined greediness
Commercial dictated
Composing emotions

Weariness withstanding
Tirelessly pretending
Valentine’s forgotten
Closeted emotions



Copywrite @ Debra Squyres 2013
Writing inspired by Seren Roberts Three Syllable writing on the blog....

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Sipping formaldehyde with medical hype
A lab coat cloaked sterile destiny
Balding with bare hands to compute
Imprinting watery vitality to a blue tooth
Chip sensor, genetic desire plunges
Closeted towards strapped hardwired control
Engineers veer deaths machination icons
As chirping screens bleat out information barriers
To pass through fat nurses and white hallways
The delayed security of death...

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The meaning of home
Isn't a house
Locked in a dome
Quiet as a mouse

For they say,
"Love isn't love unless it's right"
Every day
Every night

Home for me
Is following my heart
But I can't see
Where to start

Even if
It's running through my veins
I feel stiff
Feel that pain

It must be running through my veins
Oh the pain
Never gain
But home just isn't home without you






...

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Taped-together mystery
Closeted cacophony
Doling out your sunshine
Like it’s half time
And you’re half mine

Your countenance, it haunts my dreams
Why does kindness feel so strange?

Flip me inside out
Clear my eyes
Turn my world upside down 
And pierce my amnesia

Tear the veil from my mind
Shake me out from all the lies
Melt the fear when it resists
So my will succeeds from this

Rescue me 
From my own worst enemy...

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In the battle of the poets
Closeted within their dens,
Words their only ammunition
Shooting from their ink filled pens,

Seeking phrase uniquely pretty
And an unused metaphor,
They have not the time to help me
Woo the one whom I adore.

Without muse or bard assistance
Am I equal to the game?
In trite words of deep devotion
Will the message be the same?

I can't say it grandiosely
As I beg you to be mine.
The old words will have to do then.
"Will you be my Valentine?"...

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