Uninhabited Poems

The Deceased Man

The false apparatuses are presented on the tiny stage,
The surgeons want to shape up your archaic days.
The larger your poisons are,
The more lethal is their care.

You only care for the austere suggestions,
I want to undergo your sweeping portions.
I want to shake your hand in between infinity,
You want to pull me through this lumbering calamity.

I am another deceased man in this war,
Can you recall the black October?
There is so much rapture in the grave,
You only yearn to be brave.

You are now in a favoured hell,
I want to conjure you back and well.
I want to bring back my old salvation,
Where you were the most cataclysmic passion.

I beg you to wait for me in the uninhabited cave,
I will converge with you soon where you are already paved.
You are situated in your befitting place,
There is awaiting you the perpetual grace.

Here Comes the Morning

when the suns golden globe arises
the morning springs into action
birds chirp from dewy branches
squirrels hustle across fields
looking for uninhabited trees
mist rises from waking mountains
stretching their fall foliage
reds, oranges browns
glittered by yellow streaks
of autumn's brightness

9-25-23

Forgiveness Is a Dance

Forgiveness feels like a lonely dance 
What to do when drama’s veils go down 
Hands must be dropped in repentance
To be free, only I can slip off this gown

Unforgiven I acted as an unimpeachable
I wore out the hands of others justified 
Without palms, forgiveness is reachable
Empty scarlet letters is tossed aside

Forgiveness grants a place uninhabited
Two steps back, the next step is always new
By the grace of God I’m deemed talented
He turns the fullness of shame into dew

Forgiveness is a seed receiving the light
I resist trusting soil, water, and sun 
The empty space above is where it’s right
Hiding dormant, nowhere for me to outrun

Forgiveness feels rawer than useless raging
No more a martyr's dance, just pure suffering

***
Luke 23:34
Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots

Melancholy

The mood lifts from the lips, parched with permanent nicotine,
and falls, like snowflake-ashes from a turbulent volcano.
The uninhabited eye, underneath the patch - a vacant stare
into a cloudless night with flamenco-stars. Further from the truth
comes the truth of perspective, perspicacity, the long draw
of his cigarette and slow sigh of ringlets. The Camel scent
of his clothing mixes with lavender and the draught of tears;
melancholy plugs up the dike. An occasional red fingernail,
as if down a chalkboard, his spine, taunts the old timer.
He grunts, and drains the erupting whiskey bottle. Thoughts
take wing…oft’ he hears her laughter, a bird call. Good eye
plucked from the bar, placed with the rest of the stars -
he doesn’t deserve the halo above his habitat, the floor.
Every day, life spins, like a merry-go-round, with no point.
He’ll never tell - the tale is decades gone and oversold.

5/7/2023
Anatomy of Melancholy 
Sponsor: Craig Cornish

New Species Wanted

I think after all grace fails – 
man not, in time, making it 
far enough out~ too late bails
to a fresh planet uninhabited,

much like ours before consuming
and mating, as if a vibrant garden 
could not be overly rabbited 

(you know, what I mean~
after the big one dropped

or some miraculous vaccine
has totally flopped)

yet, somehow, some way,
in a twisted sort of divine display, 
pigeons, rats and roaches, will be 
the Big Blue Marble's, by default, 
newly ordained goodwill
ambassadors and spiritual 
coaches – 

(a banner hung in 
near space inviting alien visitors -- 
unfortunately too late arriving
to be humanity's saving inquisitors -- 

“To Thee we will pay homage,
another eclectic, semi-intelligent species needed – 
bring lots of garbage....”)

Hidden From Time

Beyond those hills lie the mysteries
of a small community hidden from time.
Little has changed in the past fifty years,
if one does not consider the paved road
or the telephone lines, some of the few
remaining party lines in the country -- 
Yes! If you stand underneath them you
can hear the noisy chattering of gossipers
exchanging notes about their neighbors,
or, arranging interesting tripartite trysts.
Sometimes the sound of a zither plucked,
or an old wringer washer chugging along
[if it’s a Monday morning]; you can hear
a faint whistling of undetermined origin.
Everyone knows everyone else and kin
who have not left for Ohio since the 50s,
while old, uninhabited houses crumbled
into dust, including one where I was born
on a snowy winter’s day in bleak December.

Written August 8, 2022

The Farrier

The Farrier
Miracle Man 
3-16-2022

With uninhabited joy sings his hammer, 
upon the anvil fashioning a tune. 
The “Smithy’s” life, not one of glamour,
reshapes a shoe this day in June.

Billows puffing keeping flames hot,
with shaping done there’s cooling to do.
Fifty meters and you’re from earshot,
with music concluded- a single horseshoe.

Now nail that sucker on!

Mud - Where Are You

Humble
mud, the cause of 
our existence, facing 
extinction. Have to pay and buy
in towns

Human
race will end If
we don't do something to
increase uninhabited land 
cover

22.08.2021
Syllables checked at PS
BS1

Unanswered

There was little I could say
and much I could not.

Water droplets slid down the breath stained window
as windshield wipers refrained from their purpose.

The gibbous moon withdrew from view,
light stifled by douglas firs thrashing,

but I don't recall when it drifted.

Inside four motionless doors alone,
moans had no escape.

Rain banged angrily upon the glass
like an unanswered knock.

Each drop held my eyes
then fell
            from
              their
                                   reach.

My tears mirrored in a fog,
my grasp uninhabited.


11-21-2020

Laudator Temporis Acti

Methinks all antediluvian Love was
Whiter than snows atop higher tors;
And with more troth dudes did kiss
Purer maidens for pleasanter bliss.

I deem Art shortly after Noah’s Ark
To have been of better-spun spark; 
And bards of far more sublime quill
Did indite with stouter metered skill.

Niftier lines which Columbus hymned,
On virgin voyages to terrains deemed
By soil-tilling mortals uninhabited yet;
Such ditties do dim both fear and fret. 

Tighter Calvary Faith as Bunyans 
Prisoners fell in Hades' vile plans,
Wet-toweling martyrs' spirits bold,
Felt saltier with truer saints of old. 

Daintier Oratory and Polemics alike
Did with indeed finer Lincolns spike;
Notches less finessed minions today,
Such steadily sorrier contrasts betray.

Abandoned In Synonyms

once impulsive        now

deserted   forsaken
                  cast aside
jilted
stranded
              rejected
dumped
ditched
                 unused

neglected
             idle
                unoccupied
uninhabited

I stand empty

      words fail me

Age Has Not Aged

we gathered lilacs
             you&I
in that faroff land
                              distant
now uninhabited
unvisited
             'cept by memories

those days     so real
more real then
          than   this today
seen through a veil
yet
   still indelible
        imprinted forever
hardwired for easy recall

age has not aged
who we were then
passion
     is not stilled in the breast
desire now
         does not rest
                        but stirs

we drink at that fountain
of yesterdays
                  when
                     we were young
&
this love of ours
          had just begun
we wander&kiss
   the same&
                   remenisce
of that faroff time
I
   remain yours
&
   you are still mine

I Came Out Sputtering

Forthy waves fooled me
Lulled me into believing there would be warmth
I plunged in.
My heart nearly stopped.
My body nearly frozen
In the depths of this dark uninhabited lake
What if I die? I wondered
Who will find me?
No one knew I was here.
I could get a cramp.
I came out sputtering.
The woods were nearly silent.
I saw a flicker of a leaf, and then another.
My teeth were chattering.
I put my head under a second time.
It felt warmer now.
Something slid past my buttocks.
A snake? 
A turtle?
Do they bite?
A fish?
It seemed warmer.
I began slowly swimming.
A little algae was on my fingers.
I gently flicked it into the waters.
Which seemed lighter now.
The sun had arrived to watch.
I swam into a natural spring.
Not hot-tub warm, but warm.
Delightful.
It was as if I owned the lake
And the woods.
It was just me and God.
I felt better than I had in years.
Deciding at that second to swim 
every morning at this time while I was here.
"No one swims at this time of year!" my friend called.
Breaking my meditative ponderings. 
I waved. "I do!" I called.
He waved and walked back to the house.
Leaving me to my magical thoughts.

White Elephant

By my family I was never wanted
Must've been the mouth,the brain that they hated
Living is such a sin I'd have to die to be celebrated
After all I live with these freaks,so how do I remain unaffected?
Even when I'm there my presence remains uninhabited

See,I've met better people
They dress better,look better,have better 
But they're always intimidated
I wonder why cause I'm just out-dated
Everything they have was handed to them on a silver platter
Yet I have to work my way up the ladder

All the words they know are bland
What they read and write is simple
Like simply made for the simpletons
       quite simple to read
       so these simpletons believe it
       simply cause they're simply
Simple

No matter how better
They claim to be
They can never knock down my ability
      Cause writing is my capability
And to them writing is an inability
I hold no accountability to how
   they react to my personality 
I'm also simple-yeah,simply the best
And if you don't wanna burn,you better get used to that reality

I may be a white elephant to my family,
But to you,I'm your own worst enemy

Intuition

I find myself in solitude 
Once again...matters of the heart 
Forced to become an uninhabited 
Individual that is paralyzed 
To any type ambience of sentiment
Do you recognize the level of 
Corruption you have done to my soul 
These are the mysteries of the unknown 
That will remain untold 
The affliction on the inside of me 
When I suddenly realize 
We were never destine 
To work out as relationships 
That are meant to be 
My heart as been mangled 
By being entangled
With a mate that could not agree
With normality and peace 
All the while my vision 
Was distorted and imaginary 
It took ten years 
For me to forecast 
That we would never last

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