Short Ill Bred Poems

pilgrim turkeys sensing dread

scurry into an old shed

farmer hear our plea

nest we in a tree

and dear friend we are ill bred.
...

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My fate to be a watcher…
“Regarder Les Autres”
and write from alleys dark but real,
salons for words ill-bred 

(Le Grande Hotel Paris: May, 1978)...

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Armadillo


Armor placed upon a knighted
Rat, defender of the gold, not the
Man whose crown adorns it.
Addled pretender to the throne,
Dunce, in hidden jesters robe
Ill bred, ill tempered, 
Lothario, pompous preening,
Lecherous serpent seeking
Only the safety of self.


For PD’s contest
Acrostic Time #1
7/3/2014...

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Poor Julius Fred,
No longer anxious to wed;
A celebratory life once led,
Now, a mixer with the ill-bred,
His eyes, a darker red!

Home goes back to the queerest bed:
Stopper of good use of the best head;
A drift to fatal coma he’d dread,
His life’s yoke heavier than lead.
From his table vanished, the true bread.
And from his memory, the times he truly fed....

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a cold sleep
under chilling dreams
mostly
bones find each other

a dirt path
in the tall woods
the ill-bred trees
as usual –

darkly
disinterested

rabbit running
helter-skelter
down the track
heading at me

it is being chased
by what
I did not see

behind my shoulder
a deadly scuffle

I keep walking
my steps
are less shock proof

Back home
taking shoes and socks off
naked feet flounder

bones hang loose
again...

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Chakras correspondent to the earth plane
announce their presence as a reminder
that all attachments are not to rest lain,
as we blissfully go through life’s grinder,
requiring to make tender touch kinder.
Thus when fire of navel raises it’s head
or lustful sacral signals we’re ill bred,
impulses received, when distilled by heart,
relinquish doership since soul’s by love led,
whereupon animal cravings depart.

06-September-2022...

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