Short Rinds Poems

rain song--
a peel of lemon rinds
in the bar glass...

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Soaked in rinds of limes
with sugared rum in summer
sunburned lips smile....

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Bright, red, tart cranberries boil 
with white sugar sweet
cooled the sauce is mixed with nuts
orange rinds a treat
chilled to perfection 
served beside
yum!

*I'm thankfull for my health....

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apples grapes peaches on tray
silky rinds explode 
flesh blended with milky cream
nectar squirting juice,
add cherry toppings
toothy- fruit
binge!


Make Me Drool With Epulaeryu ...

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Pork Rind, Oh Pork Rind
As I reach in your bag
I am truly amazed
At the flavor you have

I know where you come from
Just don't know where you've been
After all the truth is 
You are a pigs skin

You often come with a bonus
I am seldom at loss
The piece with the hair
Which in the end I can floss...

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Stars twinkling 
at night, doth bring 
warm, fetching  
this surreal passion 

of slithering feet 
doing the quick step
in moon stroke music

Ah, the smell of
lemon rinds and touch 
of wild jasmine
swirling, inside me, yet I’m

too timid, to voice out
like a canvass 
left untouched, by a brush...

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So this is what it’s about
sitting under the darkening sky
hoping to finish the last red drop
before the first rain drops

swirling burgundy around the crystal
grape puddles breathing an oily fog
spit seeds of perception—
the acidity of intellect
eating through the rinds of remorse
as she speaks
and speaks?...

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No, no, no,no.
Catharses catharsis abounds equals equal being worth.
Jesus Christ beauty bastions newly grounded work.
Furthermore my love,
Apologize to that guitar man.
His sentimental chimes.
Are shaking my rebricate quill.
Greasing both pork rinds.
Do as I do.
Not as I say.
I don't know.
Get saved anyway.
Rinforzando!...

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the crawling
trash-eating growlers
empty the jettison
of 7 days

strong limbs and gloved hands
heave and haul
tip-over the unwanted tangle
of unmindful chaos

the machine chews loudly

time to go
drag the empty black bins
back into their secluded caves

time to make eggs and bacon
to drop once more
rinds and shells
into plastic landfills


...

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I'm the best snacker there ever 
was
My hands fit chip bags like my 
hands fit my gloves
I've got Chex Mix, Cheese-It's, 
Pork-Rinds, Cheetos
Pretzels, Gardettos, dip and 
Doritos
I shovel it in morning, noon, 
and night
I don't stop to breath, oh what 
a sight
If you need snacking done, 
remember what they say
Go grab that girl who can really
pack it away!...

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Lynnwood Windchest roads lying in a row.

She peddles the tea kettle.

Rhyming limes and lemon rinds.

Slipping shale skipping stones.

Silent sighs sail straight past your eyes.

Specifically speaking Pacific shipping.

Ralph elf ate all by himself.

Swans see seven seagulls swimming swiftly.

She throws, he rows.

Pathetic personal problems persist perfectly....

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Hunter! Hunter! in the sky
Find a place for him to lie,
What aged lips or ears
Could truly know thy fears?

Children! Children! twinkled rears
Greet him with a hug of smears,
What younger fingers or toes
Could dry those tearful woes?

Servant! Servant! always knows
This is how it always goes
What knowing nods or minds
Could leave behind such rinds?

Inspired by William Blake's The Tyger....

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Some sleeping pansy fairy dust
and orange rinds (they are a must)
A twinkle past the sky-lit moon
and tear drops from the month of June
Flower petals crushed and scattered
flecked upon the silver water
Then there's you - the violet's daughter
In disguise you're all that matters
Whisper vines and lady lace
the whitest flower's sad disgrace
A present for the truffle tree
reminded you, that day, of me....

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wearisome is the ardent wine, 
icy corridors
we sooty birds descend nimbly into nests
high in drear corridors, collecting leafy glisten

among the psychotic-seeming industry
and throng of souls' bitter rinds.
i, tunneled roots, blackened bark clinging
feebly peel away, reveals then
what teething bishops sung.

a petty triumph of marrow... boxcars and
 boxcars clangin' fertile to the 
fallen ladders...

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Devices pull at my trigger
coaxing with memory vacant
to urge a splurge from me
without regret, without vigor,
an ageless chant that can't

rise to the level of ethics
or all corruption resounds
with shame the game they play.
To whittle down our passion ticks
their wave pounds as it surrounds

the magnetic magic of minds
until trudging synthetic
debit drain to pain all growth
before we beg our troubled rinds
to toss pathetic aims aesthetic....

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“Rash and inexperienced”
frees thoughts within my mind
of traipsing deepest Africa
retrieving melon rinds.

Bi-colored python rock snakes
and wondrous fever trees
delights in my imagining
from phrases such as these…

How is a rudyard kippled? 
I’ve often wondered that.
Perhaps Limpopo’s man-of-war
and I could have a chat.

Though pachyderms and heffalumps
can make the mind run wild,
enchantments hang on every page
of Just So Stories, child....

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This kite electric
tangled in the power lines
tattered silk like paper skins
of dyed and colored onion rinds
With salty satin stains
flapping in the ocean air
it once held tight a child's hand
tingling knuckles white and bare
Updraft caught and carried
jangling raw up on the wires
electric now ungrounded
white heat lightning fuel tipped fires
Now it begs release
from the metal to the sky
With my own eyes as witness
sparks reach out to catch it fly....

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