Short Reverb Poems

cicada reverb

                                             electric

                                    ripping like Hendrix




*Dog-day Cicada

MagiCicada13...

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My drunkard muse can be a curse.
Pouring shots full of poetry,
craving a sober history.
Tipsy rhymes reverb in reverse,
so ink's teetotal in free verse. ...

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Sky and mountains smile formed in avarice want
Misty breath plume and roll
Green lit stance bow and reverb
At lights plantiff touch
Nature beauty in simplicity
As eons stranded creations
Moving the irresistible force...

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In lucid dreams.

Her silhouette appeared.

Out of deep azure.

Into fusion. 

To recall the time of us.

Ethereal reverb.

Noetic divine.

Coalesced.

Her heart did with mine.

Though In better times.

At last the dream faded.

As did the time of she.

Her face now featureless.

Returning forever.

Into the azure deep....

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At early dawn, the view’s superb.
Sat upon my bed scrolling thru
My phone’s pictures, I got perturb.
Your brightest smile widespread imbue,
On obituary reverb.
Life seldom gives joy alone too,
So I’ll cherish your life reverb.
With tears of peace, I will construe,
Your gallant life acclaim the verb
Of possibility pursue,
Peace of divinity superb,
Giving hope in painful adieu....

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I have almost gone to ground
Discontent, with sound
The winter’s melody, reverb
Returning here again
See as you, I must have seen before
As many times I hear
And yet I yearn, for more

But why not see as me?
Circumvent, with passion lost
Take off the mask, the fret
See as I, you must have seen before
When you did yearn for more
You’re thumping heart, the bliss
Dissipate, just like the morning mist!...

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Now and then things remind me.

Of a time, none could find me.

And the place where your eyes did.

In the raw candor of summer.

Where wine and secrets poured.

Out of your mouth.

Into a somnium reverb.

As the night pandered to our primitive urge.

Earth tones under moonlight.

Revealed native lips that held soft replies.

Laced with magic of their own.

No wonder flowers called them home. 

...

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The pilot lights are lit
Vulcan rumored from the pit
The Earth sustains but birth pangs
murmured rumbling to reverb the source of it

Anger and frustration diversified a Cross the Nation
Lines are drawn, in the heart, devastation
On the mind and the screen
Tribulation
To strip clear any notions that pursuit will be escaped, by those forces seen and undseen with no part sold to the occupation
O just wait
Just
Wait...

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I go down to be the first in a race I could not win
No inducement.
To run for the fun of running is where others find
Enticement.
To have no prize to spur the effort, for encouragement
No reason.
To break my back and strain my heart to find winning
Out of season.
But to sit and watch, as the slow run withers all fiber of
My compassion.
Pity shrivels my heart and does not reverb, for it is
Off fashion.
And still I must run....

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If I turn you on
What will you do?
Jerk my off?
Turn out the light?
Have a smoke?
Get off on your own?
I hope not.
Let me do it for you.

I am good 
With my fingers
I play guitar.
Slight it, bend it,
Hammers on,
Hammers off.
Improvise
That is the magic word.

The crack pipe
Knows no bounds
The crack knows no bounds

The upskirt dancing sites
Know how to get you off
Out of bounds

Sound bites mixed
Vocal reverb on
Guitar tube on

Let's rock....

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