Short Gashing Poems

autumn in full swing
Christmas being overswung
a big retail axe
gashing pocketbooks early
will pause on the thirty first...

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Safeguard

The planet feels man gashing through it.
  

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
February 14, 2010

Poetic form: Monuku...

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I crossed a path of big mistakes
Never turning... to find a place
Beyond for that, to which has been.
 Further than, more to comprehend

Winds gashing…..  Worn down to a place of nothing
 I feel as if at no time I existed
Tearing at my gardens of sanctuary
In a place that was never to be
Ending a cycle … ending me...

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Drops of oil on fertile soil
Burning cars heading for mars
Drips of fear a flaming tail
Hearts exploding like old stars

A journey to tomorrow
Holding on to a kite string
Thoughts opposed in the mirror
A new world to plant a new spring

Minds charting new maps
Exploring the smell of new life
Water taps gashing out dry crops 
Tasting the will to endless strife

The ambassador of a new world
To establish a new alliance
The mouth has no words
To accept that we’re the aliens...

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Pistol-proud, Virginia-vain,
Deaf to danger, numb to pain,
Born a century too late,
George Patton spat at Fate.

Underneath the bombshell’s burst,
He knew this was not the first
Blood of enemies he’d spilled,
Nor the first age when he’d killed.

Once a prehistoric Celt,
Then a legionnaire who felt
Glee at gashing Jesus’ side;
Later, serving Him with pride.

Visionary general,
Prayerful, and profane, and all
This, and something more as well;
Poet, rhyming while bombs fell....

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