September moon,
celestial skinny-dippers,
sangria soirée, so soused,
starlight swimming,
summertide celebratory,
singing soon sepia snapshots,
streaming in soulful sisterhood
psyches of sorrowful separating friends,
sadly, still scattered,
sweetly soliloquizing of
September of ‘76. ~
Praise my poetry prowess
I'm a man not a mouse
With my prose and my rhyme
Yes my ego's been soused
And is big as a house
At least most of the time
When level, I canter
I revel in banter
I'm not anyone's mime
Put me up on that stage
Though I don't act my age
And I'm well past my prime
So come in for the show
It don't cost much you know
Just a measly red dime
Said you're saving your bucks
And think poetry sucks
Then I say that's a crime
She left at the yawn of dawn
Between fog-densed waking hour
And rain-soused grey morning.
Veiled, her image was laced in silhouette.
She stood behind the fog-rain, a dark
Painting, sketched in black crayons of
Languor.
Her breath, one streak of ink
Of a satanic fresco on a dingy subway.
And the breath of the rain was heavy,
Brewed in hauteur -
So was the world between us two,
Lame and proscribed.
She wandered through flighty directions.
Grouches filled her lugubrious lungs,
Blotches on the sludged track, echoing
Her slouch.
She was one mass of trembling grief.
I was one hulk of ruinous pain.
Between us, the funeral of love.
Threnodies held court on the once soft
Yolk of hugs that sensitized an ageing
Romance.
Dawn darkened with the pulse of grief
Rain pelted the senses held by solemn
Consternations, recreating a fruitless
Void of hollow trepidations.
She lurched and sidled towards the
Crag-lined route, towards earth’s drooling
Beck... and I knew the funeral
Was over.
It's shadowed in darkness, growling like a hound
Creeping about, whispering as it slithers around
Begging for attention, for it desires to be found
Silence is loud when its echoes continually resound
Behold, it comes masked, disguised in these places
Preying on the gullible ones with innocent faces
Cajoling as a lover would to gain their good graces
Offering false humility with arms of frigid embraces
Silence cries out with a stench breath for adoration
Quietly seducing the naive with phrases of flirtation
Long ago, spawned to be the wielder of denigration
Contrived as a stealth mute, soused on pride's libation
Writes with ink splotches, dripped from a toxic tongue
Its poetry is deceiving, lyrics not meant to be sung
In darkness, it leaks toxins with the scent of dung
Disguised as a pacifist, but its bile words are flung
Silence, speak what you should be wanting to say
then fade back into the shadows where you often play
Your acrimony doesn't fool the many you did betray
Sheath your querulous pen, for it leads people astray
Locked inside a summer dream that never ends
I am a breathing tree, a pushing flower, a seedling
Hemmed in by a sun that shines and never spends,
I am a rose in a garden, filled with mystical healing
Enfolded in the hour I am a sunny season of joy
laughing, giggling, scintillating, playing with the wind
Concealed with beauty that never ends nor deploys
I am June, July and August, rushing in without rescind
Immersed in the scent of sweet mulched fruits
I am an apple in the orchard of crimson cherry red
Soused in heat I dip into pacific waters find my route
I am all the things you can imagine in your head
Locked inside a summer dream that never ends,
I am hemmed by a sun that shines and never spends .
Early morning delivers birdsong joys,
as the darkness is swept away by God.
Undulations for my ears, sonorous
and dear, over and over - I ponder
small bodies with feathers, noteworthy songs.
Why does their cadence console us each day
as the sunrise breaks forth with cheeriness?
How awfully sad that the night dwellers sleep!
They douse their ears with flammable liquid.
I weep for soused sufferers who miss out!
I spied the church steeple, with a “caw, caw.”
I bet those crows are there each day to greet
those seeking the inner doors of its peace.
Who notices but I, the poetess?
Who cares at all if crows speak well of us?
Travel
Zip-zip-zip the suitcases go
And we all pile into the car, ready to start the show
It’s that time of year
When my family and I travel to far away places full of cheer
Spellbound with giddiness I am
Ready to cross the border into a foreign land
Beep-beep-beep the metal detector sounds
With each techno ring I hear, in serendipity I am soused
Fly-fly-fly we zoom through the sky
I watch through the window as the cotton candy clouds go by
My heart prancing in my chest
The others in a serene slumber but my effervescent exhilaration refused to let me rest
Step-step-step I head down the stairs
With each step my agog amplifies in pairs
New horizons I see
A land exquisite and entirely extrinsic to me
Besides me stands my family
Supplying all amity I might ever need
Oh, mommy and daddy, please hear my plea
Don't sit your children on Santa Claus' knee
He's too touchy feely
Eyes are hard and steely
He's soused from too many a martini
I hate to call ol' Saint Nick a boozer
But to tell the truth, he's just a loser
Soused more than a tiddly
He's not worth a diddly
Too much hooch turns him into a schmoozer
Christmas tree. Decorated Christmas tree...
On your green branches, don't let Santa pee
He gets a bit foggy
Thinking he's a doggy
He'll lift a leg and expose his peewee
What’s happening? A bystander asked the McCormick sisters, unduly soused.
They lost a bet, Wilma and Lucille said as the other two grunted and roused.
You mean they must pull that cart all the way to Marshalltown today?
Yes, and the horse was so happy she did a celebratory sashay.
Do you McCormicks often make your siblings tow the line like this?
It will make them much stronger said Wilma, an enterprising miss.
Lucille kept quiet, because she knows the mind of women on the street.
And seeing her sisters struggle to pull their cart was an enormous treat.
Beyond the wave-sacked,
lie the pockmarked dunes, heaps dug
by the claws of scaly thrashers.
Here they huddle, my blood kin
flogging grim pleasures,
wolfing eggy sandwiches,
dipping tea-stained teeth into beakers.
By a shoaling shale and monochrome spray
one brine-splattered small fry.
A boyhood caught in a swirling freshet,
he whales barefoot in the flounder,
skimming the slimy kelp, stalking
a slippage of tugging surf.
Her demeanor soggy at last, mother
goads to be led to the creaking camper.
Father smokes a plug of leathery shag,
grunts upright, walks toward the sea.
A toppled thermos and leftovers
scooped up and lugged away.
Windswept, the lingerers
trudge from the chilly churn,
while a soused and hectoring bay
records a working-class holiday.
tubers on the vine
flourishing in fertile soil
field of potatoes
I swilled vodka made of spuds ~ Absolut
Distilled veggies that were grown as a root
Drank another bottle
Hit the ground full throttle
Grossly soused but I didn't give a hoot
ingested as French fries, potatoes are better for human health
~ ~ ~ ~
January 21, 2022
Charlie Hai-Lim-Ku Contest sponsor: Charlie Messina
Five a.m, off to fetch the papers.
Passing houses with blue lit bedrooms.
Teenagers, gaming, or networking
until sleep beckons around eight.
If only they knew what they miss-
Foxes, a mixture of caution and hunger,
Cats, eyes like twin moons, in street lights.
A diminished dawn chorus, late on parade.
The distant church bell, no longer muffled
by grumbling traffic.
Dawn's blue ribbon, soon to be soused
in a honey sunrise.
But, no, they live dark and sleep light,
oblivious to time's passing
whereas we, in advancing years,
well aware of a long darkness ahead,
treasure the length of days,
feast and gorge on the moment,
leaving nothing on the plate
at the end of the day.
I feel no envy- only gratitude
for the gift of awakening.
Life leaves me too busy
for clock watching.
On green sea,
Mermaid free,
Wetness gleam,
Sunlit dream!
Movement grace,
Pretty face,
Sailor's bliss,
Deadly kiss.
Deep diver,
Crest rider,
Blue sky days,
Purple haze,
Mermaid maid,
Silk arrayed.
Sapphire skies,
Noon surprise,
Stargazer,
Moon dancer.
Mermaid minx,
Her false winks,
Led to doom,
In soused room,
For love died,
And denied.
Beauty's voice,
Beauty's poise,
Cloud lover,
Sea daughter,
Mermaid mauve,
In her cove,
Radiant,
Deep sea chant!
Written on September 10, 2020
For: Threes, Please Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Beth Evans
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
We heard father singing
He'd got rather soused.
Mother tut-tutted
At his yuletide cheer
He yelled "merry christmas"
Then chugged down a beer.
He stood on our cat
Who then shot up the tree
We fell about laughing
At this festivity.
The tree toppled over
Mother let out a scream
Not very yuletide-ish
More like halloween.
Hissing and spitting
The cat reappeared
Tangled in tinsel
With a cotton wool beard.
We chased the baubles
That rolled round the room
Then looked at each other...
We all laughed like loons.
Entry for
The Night Before 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
26/11/2019. Placed=1st.
Beyond the wave-sacked,
lie the pockmarked dunes, heaps dug
by the claws of scaly thrashers.
Here they huddle, my blood kin
flogging grim pleasures,
wolfing eggy sandwiches,
dipping tea-stained teeth into beakers.
By a shoaling shale and monochrome spray
one brine-splattered small fry.
A boyhood caught in a swirling freshet,
he whales barefoot in the flounder,
skimming the slimy kelp, stalking
a slippage of tugging surf.
Her demeanor soggy at last, mother
goads to be led to the creaking camper.
Father smokes a plug of leathery shag,
grunts upright, walks toward the sea.
A toppled thermos and leftovers
scooped up and lugged away.
Windswept, the lingerers
trudge from the chilly churn,
while a soused and hectoring bay
records a working-class holiday.
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