Staked Poems

lady bugs kissing on feathers

lift me up, birds of praise,
I'm sinking in the spaces
of this unholy void.
She twirls with her lace,
and momentarily paces,
this cemetery is wired
hidden in darkest grit soils.
if our passion builds a fire,
elementary of the passion
we even forget our names.
As our eyes staked to claim
awkwardly drawn together,
so newly shyly terrifying,
if the spark wasn't mystifying,
lady bugs kissing on feathers

We May have Lost Him

With an ingenuine saccharine la-di-da
The hoity toity woman said “hi” to ma
A want to be royal, an aristocrat
stated poser, false Sheila name of Pat

My brother was smitten right away
He gave her his best times of day
Pat could have been a clock tower shooter
He did not see this at all, my brother Tooter

She is so refined and fashionable!
I thought a narcist too and really dull
She is so pretty and genteel
I did not think so, and here’s the deal…

I knew William, her ex, a wonderful man
She stole all his stuff except for a fan
At her sale she refused to sell to him
He was escorted out by her new friend Tim

Will’s dog was sad, she had him staked out mean
Putting on airs like a Victorian Queen
Pat married my brother Tooter of course
Arrived in a carriage with a rented horse

We may have lost him I said to my ma
Just like your daddy, she said, referring to Pa
For Pa had run away with a scoundrel too
She took all his money and possessions in ’82.

A Pretty Face

Give me anguish that feels like my heart has been staked,
Give me betrayal, entrapment, and hatred of my race.
Give me shame, humiliation, and painful disgrace,
But please oh please spare me, a pretty face.

Ten Lines from Ten Poems Entry - Crumbling Memory

I've always had the sneaking suspicion I'd never grow old.
I'm decaying prematurely,
slowly rotting in my core with every mind-numbing day.
"Why must every good thing get ruined?"
Home is no longer where happy is.
So why have you staked your claim on my psyche?
Cold blue tile is the foundation from which two children build their world.
I can discern from it nothing but terrifying probabilities.
Everything has an end.
Here we are timeless.

Poems selected (some from this account, some from another, some never posted):
1. Blue Marker Castles
2. Decaying Prematurely
3. Saturday, December 22nd
4. Words I'll Never Say
5. ComeHoming - Matthew 15:4
6. On Cybercoercion
7. Airport Cherubs
8. Winter's Warning
9. Who am I without achievement?
10. Nothing really changes in an airport

A Death Never Mourned

On the outskirts of a long-abandoned country town
beyond the crumbling headstones and elmwood trees
is mounted a dark dismal figure of what used to be
a scarecrow whose limbs flail in Autumn's breeze

Hung as if crucified, his death was never mourned
The creature decayed in the midst of a barren field
Fallow lies the ground he once so boldly protected
Nigh on twenty years since wheat crops gave yield

Poor beast, with innards of grayed moss and twigs
Tenebrous, the moldy growth on his stygian face
as fog encroaches to shield me in the shadows of night
He's a monolith of death, staked in this cursed place

Darkness saturates the clouds and shrouds the moon
Comes the North wind, and a caw... caw... cawing sound
A murder of crows take flight over the wretched scene
Where once reigned a Sovreign who was never crowned

Tears of Blood

My pearls are turning red. 
Diamonds crumble when no one weds. 
Scarlet Dove feathers are plucked for beds. 
When there are rumors of war and dread. 

The streetlights are burning red. 
Water pipes are lined with crimson lead. 
The yeast has ceased to rise in our bread. 
When there’s talk of war and dread. 

The Sun is setting into a fiery red. 
The air is stagnant and without breath. 
Wild animals starve and have not fed. 
When there’s fear of war and dread. 

The Book is lost and rarely read. 
Eyeless faces with hairless heads 
staked on pikes and left for dead. 
During times of war and dread.

Loves Reluctant Farewell

In the tempest of our love, I stood my ground,
Embracing the whirlwind, the chaos unbound.
Through the agony, the tears that drowned,
I clung to you, in love profound.
I cherished you with a fervent flame,
In the heart's crucible, I staked my claim.
In a cosmic dance, fate spun a new thread,
To remix our saga, where possibilities spread.
You unlocked my chains when my courage wavered, deceptive bindings that left me unsure. If faced with the choice of you or my final sigh, in life's ultimate test I'd choose you….thank you.

vespertine

dusk settles on an Anglican Shrub
vespertine is downy down upon the vertical horizon
spring like frost is unraveling
toward a sunset on its late afternoon decline

at this stage of early-black twilight
a cygar shaped delirium is seeding 
its exotic fragrance sweetly empowering
will linger until the crack of dawn

tenderly grown staked and supported
the poisonous angel scrumpet trumpets
a crepuscule's sundown into darknness
a pitch illumination begging to brighten

bathed in orange moire reflecting
by her petaled drowsiness unfurling
a day dream and a nightmare
time travel in tandem

lying dormant now in a trance
like flesh inside a nutshell
vespertine pulls away from early-bright
she's never this reflective in the sunlight

Sing a Song of Sixpence

"This is believed to be a version that I'd furthered a bit more," ... by Poet

Sing a song of gone-byes,
A pocket golden watch.
Four and twenty hours
Staked as top-notch.

When the time had entered,
The Cuckoo Clock did sing.
Wasn't that a dandyish,
As sunset be the king.

The king in his grandfather clock,
Tick tocking away.
The queen mooning the dark hour,
Waxes and wanes at bay.

The stars are in the heavens,
Hang amongst the clouds,
Then dawn came up and did astir,
Awaken sun aroused.

ORIGINAL

Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a dainty (or dandy) dish
To set before the king?

The king was in his counting house,
Counting out his money.
The queen was in the parlour,
Eating bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird
And pecked off her nose.

Of the First Decan

I'm not on the cusp; I'm made of the first decan
Can't stop on a dime; it's a fully loaded train
Emotions flow next to the blood; in every vein

So all the tricks they tried; did nothing; had ill affects
Called back and lied; about the results and side effects
Or about the time you lose; when they ride you hard, and yet it still leaves you old; or dead
Relayed the sadness, your bareback in an all-out sprint; no going back, only ahead
Pity; there's no such thing; as building a healthy wall; just to tear it down
Inside; no place left to fall; when your back's already, staked out on the ground!
Oh please; my forgiveness is freezing cold, it can't be bought or sold; bring on the next round!

Sultan

I choose to abide by Christ's holy law -
Resolve born in faith that His way is true.
A pact between mind and soul - what's the flaw?
If I know it's right, then I'm bound for you!

But I look in the mirrored depths within,
and shudder at the sultan that I see.
Silk-wrapped beast with a taste for ev'ry sin:
pride, indolence, and lust subverting me.

Strong and swift, though dulled by laze and liquor,
the sultan has staked out his claim inside.
I siege his proud palace - he is quicker -
but from God's holy iron, he cannot hide.

For you, my king, I wage war with myself.
The sultan shall fall, clutching his wicked wealth.


25 August 2023

Spy and Syndicate

A searcher for vital information;
For it penetrating a formation
Anything it’d cost for intimation:
An acting of childish animation…

A neck staked for knowledge one should not have,
If unwitting giver guessed would one starve;
For the body spy works Big Risks to serve:
The hunted knowledge for them to paths carve…

Spy, sure, working for a syndicate,
Duration of mission she’d indicate;
She would waste a spy not rusticate,
If one were caught and would her implicate…

A woman young and charming Better Spy,
To her shifting glances no asked “Big Why?”
Her full-formed breast supplying the true lie,
Host’s eyes hallowing them like Blue Sky…

Spy’s mission over spy no more hovers,
Speedy exit from scene and tracks covers;
Spy is going back to meet true lover:
A heart-break to Host who learns things over...

Fomented

In field of emotions, a fire-storm has grown,
Seeds of rebellion aflame and wind-borne are sown.
Creating chaotic scenes, burned by spirit's flame,
Fomented fervor, a revolutionary game.

Fomented hearts, with courage compromised are made lame,
Unyielding on purpose, foments have staked their claim.
Anger simmers, rancor seethes, and heart beat wavers
In the cauldron of discord, it quivers quavers.

Fomented minds, with thoughts so tainted, twisted unkind,
Make claims to sublime reason, unravel unwind
They inflame the embers of long stagnant belief,
Awakening the masses asleep, pedaling grief.

The frothy foment foam spewed up into the crowd,
Ignites ferment and loathing in threatening cloud.

The Blackbird

The road of runes
The blackbird shrieks
Night befalls like my brother
The sequence is stet
from a lonely toad stall
Winding seawards
over mossy fields

Unbuttoned time
Old men craving
in ancient fields
emotions staked in mud
neon hopes fuse the last of day

Forgiveness Comes Last

I want your forgiveness to come last:
You often go back to a sin too fast.
I could you with soldiers grenades blast 
And later pained flag fly at half mast,
Even as onlookers are aghast;
Of the sorry news try to broadcast;
My guilt and worries soonest cast aside...

your benefactors you leave red-eyed 
As though they had for days on end cried 
Or in public staked and lost their pride 
Or spent and spent and up pockets dried.

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