Short Finish Off Poems

Mortally wounded, 
a soldier writhes
in pain,

     crawls bloody 
     on the bloodied 
     earth.

From up a cliff 
a sniper takes 
aim again

     to finish off a task 
     with neither rage 
     nor mirth....

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I swallowed hard the feelings scorned,
to finish off my plate

But filled I was in sated form
a glutton postulate

I bit off more than I could chew,
with meat still on the bone

My stomach full of fiery barbs
—leftovers unatoned

(Villanova University: January, 2020)...

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REALLY, I'M NOT A FAN
I'm so busy laughing, I cannot finish off, what I wanted to sayO' right, the thought of Kamala Harris replacing Biden, no way
Indiana Shaw . . .

"Laughing stock, or no laughing matter, her career is now in tatters" . . . : /...

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It wasn't much a lengthy walk.
It' only served my weight.
I'd walk as far as feet could walk
and all my muscles freight.

Ahead of me the final stop
Where coffee'd be my fate.
To finish off a feeble walk.
One suited for the bait.

Then rustled to a tired state
where all my hopes were high.
Arriving at a Horton's last
would bring a coffee sigh....

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Freedom fish have devolved into a bait ball.
In tighter and tighter circles, they swim.
Picked off one by one by invisible things.
Nothing left but scars and stripes -graying meat of death.
Gracing the hazy floor of myth and history

Eels of anarchy grinning from caves.
Red crabs traverse purple mounds.
Black fins thrashing the amber waves.
Gulls finish off what's "far left" of sane....

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Mortally wounded, a soldier writhes in pain, 
crawls bloody on the burnt, 
bloodied earth.


From up a crag, a sniper takes aim again
to finish off a task 
bereft of mirth.


On the ground, ants lug hefty loads around lumps
of seared soil, singed sand and 
torched boulder splinters


to build again and again their anthill crushed
by blood-stained boots of the 
slain and the slayers!...

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mortally wounded, a soldier writhes,
      crawls bloody on the bloodied earth

      behind a boulder, a sniper takes aim again
            to finish off a task so bereft of mirth

                  as worker ants lug hefty loads around lumps
                        of earth and  boulder splinters

                        to rebuild an anthill crushed by bloodstained
                              boots of the slain and the slayers....

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