Ariana shrugged facing Josh’s mocking clap
the stringy harmonica rang acrobatically on the streetlights.
He handed her a firebomb,
eyes sharp as vinegar.
They ran across the hot asphalt,
watching the brass kite rise.
Both caught in the whirlpool of the maze,
they guided the trumpet,
mandolin filling the air, sinking into the smokehouse.
Her jacket flared, body pitching like a haystack, cracked like an explosion.
Cigar smoke swindled
trembling hands at the phone’s text crime. Tightened waist, ribs vacant
Her throat rasped open,
gasping. Stomps flew, trumpets lit,
feathers popped, and breath spilled like bone in the dusk.
Categories:
stomps, allegory, allusion, deep, dream,
Form: Free verse
Ariana shrugged facing Josh’s mocking clap
the stringy harmonica rang acrobatically on the streetlights.
He handed her a firebomb,
eyes sharp as vinegar.
They ran across the hot asphalt,
watching the brass kite rise.
Both caught in the whirlpool of the maze,
they guided the trumpet,
mandolin filling the air, sinking into the smokehouse.
Her jacket flared, body pitching like a haystack, cracked like an explosion.
Cigar smoke swindled
trembling hands at the phone’s text crime. Tightened waist, ribs vacant
Her throat rasped open,
gasping. Stomps flew, trumpets lit,
feathers popped, and breath spilled like bone in the dusk.
Categories:
stomps, abortion, anxiety, cinderella, extended
Form: McWhirtle
do you think it’s funny
hilarious, haha, a joke
how a billionaire’s money
is enough to make him an expert
on how to put his hands
around your throat
until you choke
how your taxes should be spent
and who should be sent away
to another place
to disappear without a trace
sold into slavery
or worse
to another time
when people were schooled
that rich white men ruled and
everyone else was
easily fooled
where women stayed
in the kitchen all day
preferably naked
and always ready to play
nobody was welcome
unless they could pay
their five million dollar
fee to stay
does it make you giggle
when our president
rants and raves
stomps his feet
and holds his breath
until his face
turns orange
says that only he
knows what’s best
for the billionaires
because quite frankly
no one cares about
all the rest
everyone must bow down
lay down
stay down
or get put down
orange marmalade
like fentanyl laced Gatorade
breaks the spirit
numbs the mind
until you find
you’re on the floor
too weak to
care anymore
Categories:
stomps, political,
Form: Free verse
Wind-moles have tunneled
through the daffodil rings,
stems are uprooted or fractured,
Yellow bells and trumpets
fly in a tumbling sky.
The third month is a despoiler,
it scatters and stomps fiercely
upon the newly arrived.
Roofs are launched
to flap away on broken wings.
Yet the strong survive
until the lion yawns
temporarily bored with its play.
Like any cat, it yawns
and sleeps
while the sky washes it face.
If the new risen shoots persist,
if the tender buds
escape all runaway winds
if our lives can be nailed down,
only then
will the lion of March at last
lay down with its lambs,
but only to guard them
from its own rage and hungers.
Categories:
stomps, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The poet speaks of madness--madness similar
to what? What was spoken before this silly syllabus?
Each ant, lifting and carrying, adds bundles of dried
and curled rose petals to the soup simmerings.
Now, each ant stomps rose petals into a silken
gown, as if one could insult a shimmering insect.
The poet further sings of madness, high pitched at
times, then sliding an octave lower for suspense.
The ants love to nap on rose petals, dreaming of
rose scents which they store in their sinuses.
Rose petal soup simmers in ant kitchens calming
an parents and poets--driving ant babies senseless.
The madcap poet imagines herself simmering,
relaxing in a fragrant kitchen full of ants.
Categories:
stomps, insect,
Form: Free verse
With falls last remnants dangling- winter touches
Scarecrows and masked children say "So long" for now
First flakes of white make the snow globe come to life
Sleigh-riders sit tight
The evergreens sparkling their pines from the moon
On the lake the ice-fishers trout takes the bait
Mountaintops of snow like icing on cupcakes
Firepits in flame
Leafless trees of empty bird and squirrel nests
Foot stomps from bucks while they're chasing does in heat
White rabbits run- the coyote on the prowl
Broke branches crackle
Categories:
stomps, winter,
Form: Sapphic stanza
she stares at me with amber eyes
looks like a lion, no surprise
on the prowl, like a giant cat
she stomps off angry, just like that
Categories:
stomps, woman,
Form: Rhyme
Yesterday’s Wishes 6-25-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yesterday’s Wishes
Yesterday’s wishes never grow stale,
Immortal dream walkers glint in platinum.
Fresh hope with wings, like moonbeams in a mason jar,
Nudges wrinkled wishing stars
To capture a prayer implored on the first star,
Slipping through starlight on a chivalrous quest
Determined to take destiny outside the ephemeral.
One fluttering penny never scarred by disbelief
Lives in moments of perpetual could.
A breath, ever new, kisses Heaven
On a still pond without wrinkles
With a heartbeat that shakes time and astronomy
By blasting beyond algorithms and black holes
Into the unexamined fantastical.
Ever youthful wishes charge past the iron will of probabilities
When heartbeats flutter outside of mortality.
Possible stomps on the impossible in resurrection
Grabbing Eden’s fragments, fancies of faith,
As yesterday’s wishes belong to eternity
And live in a forever dawn waiting to bloom.
Categories:
stomps, hope, life,
Form: Free verse
Her piercing eyes burn through paper-thin lies,
igniting fear as flames erupt inside.
And reluctantly, she breaks down and cries,
trying to salvage what's left of her pride.
She believed you both had found your soulmate,
and thus, never thought either heart would stray.
And she struggles with bouts of love and hate,
as she watches her dreams slipping away.
There's no such thing as an innocent flirt;
it's the first crack in a relationship.
And the lies that accompany it hurt,
causing the scales of happiness to tip.
Jealousy is an emotional dance
that stomps out flickering flames of romance.
Categories:
stomps, angst, anxiety, betrayal, emotions,
Form: Sonnet
A small hand tugs fingers -
my son and I,
plus 30 time-traveling years –
both of us pulling together for once.
The wooden horses spin,
just missing each other
by decades.
An appaloosa stomps the air.
"Look daddy the spotty one leaps highest!"
Little fingers spring open, gallop away
toward the carousel.
A five-year-old boy lifts me,
onto the smooth saddle,
holds me tight,
as a memory goes around again.
Categories:
stomps, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Bull-black boots
stamping
like beating skin-tight drums
steel capped
with arched hands
clanking castanets
with crimson coronations
like a goldfinch neck
A guitar's fevered fret
crescendos
a rite of spring
kicking dust from bloodied boots
stomps off the romany's yoke
Categories:
stomps, community, extended metaphor,
Form: Free verse
Red Oak menstruates in the heat of summer
Beech and maples stand back from her labor
Moonlight lifts her skirt
Wind drifts through her leaves
She stomps in circles only the owls divine
Piper of voles
She checks the many holes up and down her body
Shivers
An ancient skin crawling with leafhoppers and katydids
Pinches herself of replications
Like a plate glass window shattered from above
She rains green acorns
Thousands of bitter thumbtacks dropped to the forest floor
Seeds claw to their tiny graves
How they cry night and day
During a month of rain sun and the twist of Earth’s belly!
Mother! Mother!
Until
More than enough
For a feast of all the creatures
The remaining settle
Stars
Born from the mud and sky of colliding galaxies
Woman and God.
Categories:
stomps, birth, earth, god, miracle,
Form: Free verse
Cackles were heard from down under on a hill far away
fifty little saucy spiders scurry helter skelter out to play
A hefty witch stirs her cauldron next to her Bagoon
snake eyes spoon an evil mush as feet dance around the room
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
The stars in heaven grow fangs and the moon wears a skirt of thorns
chainsaw demons flee the sky with decapitated scorn
Oh my oh my Halloween frights are here, although the night is young
old smelly garlic garlands have been strung,
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
She's here to petrify, terrify, horrify and glorify her trade
when they get here they will drink purple blue Kool-aid
Oh Gee Oh Gosh she has lost her pompadour galosh
perhaps its hiding in the pumpkin squash
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead.
Categories:
stomps, halloween,
Form: Rhyme
Don gives Sarah a small cake and a red dress for her to put on and then asks her what she wants.Sarah asks to get out of the basement but Don says that
its too early for that,so Sarah asks for television but Don says she has not earnt that yet,so Sarah asks for a clock which Don agrees too.After receiving some canned foods Sarah makes a weapon out of a metal tin lid and wooden handle and attempts to attack Don with it but he disarms her with ease and then throws her against a brick wall and then stomps on her arm and then proceeds to rape her again to"teach her a lesson"Don eventually gets Sarah pregnant with his sexual assaults,so she uses a pregnancy help book to give birth to the first of her three children Marie.Don then appears later and tells her that motherhood will give her a purpose in life.A few years later Sarah gets pregnant again due to Don and is scared of having another baby so she asks Don to let her and Marie out but Don just(reacts aggressively to the comment)and goes back upstairs for family dinner.Note.Why DON reacts aggressively to the comment???
Categories:
stomps, baby, birth, child abuse,
Form: Free verse
wind-moles have tunneled
through the daffodil rings
stems are broken
yellow bells and trumpets
fly in a mute sky
the third month
is a wayward despoiler
it stomps on the newly come
the strong survive and persist
until the lion yawns
temporarily bored with its play
one fine day
mild doe-eyed visitors
meander among cotton wool clouds
the lion dreams in his sleep
the next day arrives as his nightmare
here in the havens it is a time for tornados
the earth is burgeoning
greening so tenderly
a perilous time
if the new born shoots
if the new birthed and cradled
escape all the runaway winds
the lion my at last
lay down with the lambs
to guard them
from its own hungers
Categories:
stomps, poetry,
Form: Free verse
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