Short Spattering Poems

Summer rain softly falls
Dripping down off an old tin roof
spattering aimlessly down...

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Spatter Riot

Percolating slowly through the thin orange sheep skin,
The poison of chaos oozes through widening pores,
Bringing to boil the spattering seed of evil.
...

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The Sun; a guillotine.
With its giant convex blade of light
Slicing through my skull
Eyes first
At 186,282 miles per second.

My floaters explode
Like ejaculant;
Smashing and spattering
Outward
All over the white hole oversoul.

“Tag!” Says the Sun.

“You’re it!”...

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I am an early riser, usually between 4 and 5 a.m. 
That's my quiet time for reading, and thinking,
And sometimes writing. 
I especially enjoy it when, 
After a pre-dawn shower,
I can look out my window and see,
In the apricot light of dawn,
To the spattering applause of rain,
The miscreant predatory night
Being borne reluctantly away
In manacles of rainbows.
...

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I wish I knew where time went,
Washed clean away,
Jackal jaws ate it up
And swallowed down the day.

The very sun ignores me,
Moon cuts me dead,
Spattering of solitude
Anoints my empty head.

Don’t much care for dreams
Nor sleep’s domain,
Nothing equals nothing,
Begets more of the same.

Don’t much care for waking,
Walking into walls,
Frozen frames of judgement,
Whatever befalls, befalls....

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There is a bird
That comes each morning singing
I have not heard
Since my exile's ambiguous ending.
I want outside
To find the tree in white mist trembling
And stand beside
It in birdsong gleefully spattering.

My heart breaks here
Because I cannot see you fly from limb
To silent air
And no guns exploding beyond the dim
I want my bird
To come again and coo for love to me
I weep my bird
So far, my heart breaks in melancholy....

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morning light seeps in   
like a wisp of a breath  
in winters frigid air  
    
spectrum of silver light   
like sunlit cushioned clouds 
against paper thin walls  
    
as shadows quickly   
appear: rush to these paper walls  
like tunneling snakes  
    
light brims golden,  
spattering dewdrop fields-   
glittering jewels  
    
their moistening of  
blades bending to the winds  
echoing a hollow morn'...

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Dripping paint on canvas made works of art.
Jackson led the abstract expressionists.
He would be successful right from the start.
Using some techniques from famed muralists,
his achievements comprised very long lists.

All over the canvas Jackson would flow;
dripping and spattering paint to and fro.
Abstract images would cover it all.
As unconventional as artists go,
any of his works would bring a windfall.
...

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