This cave is too quiet -- a squeak, a drip, wing snap. But mostly silence & hushed sounds without meanings. Too quiet for my mind. Too quiet for our times.
Silence [Blank Verse]
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Category Archives: Thoughts
Mythical Kings [Common Meter]
Don't sell us benevolent kings, such creatures can't exist. An unchecked mind won't self-censor, and lame dogma persists.
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Doom-Mongers & Talking Heads [Lyric Poem]
You are not the heroes
you think yourselves to be,
dreaming up perfect worlds
that can never be.
Anyone can picture
a far-fetched perfection,
and groan of other's faults
with dead-eyed disaffection.
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Let It Fly! [Free Verse]
Stand on a hill and howl.
Don't wait for the perfect moon.
Gather your thoughts,
& wash the:
cliches,
doublespeak,
technocratic jargon, and
weasel words
out of mind & mouth.
(Those shitty words, phrases,
and qualifiers are heavy,
and will weigh down
your message &
keep it from sailing.)
Then, belt it out.
Let your words fly.
Express your authentic self.
Huff & Puff,
and let the bricks fall
where they may.
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Misleading Lines [Lyric Poem]
The headline read, "The World 's at War!" It turns out "with halitosis." I couldn't bring myself to read more. I don't need no bad breath gnosis.
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The Golden Age Mythos [Common Meter]
There never was a Golden Age,
a time much better than right now.
But playing martyr 's all the rage:
to think our world the garbage scow --
whose stinking mass forever grows.
Lest you think that I'm saying these
are times of pure and sweet repose,
Please, let me put your mind at ease:
These times are best. These times are worst.
(To blatantly steal from Dickens.)
This twist is just how we are cursed
to shriek like that sky fall chicken.
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A Life Improbable [Free Verse]
Each of us lives a life improbable, the gift of an ancestor who struggled through some terror which killed others. We each have an iron impulse to maintain a cracking grip on life, but some won't ever be pried away, growing like the stunted pine that juts from the mountainside: gnarled but indestructible. Live improbably with your life improbable.
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Everything City [Free Verse]
Everything is happening
somewhere in that city.
Blocks of block buildings
broken into smaller blocks,
in turn into smaller ones.
Those blocks -- rooms --
are the city's unit of interest.
So many rooms,
so much potential for the:
-nefarious,
-virtuous,
-ill-advised,
-hideous,
-hopeful,
-hilarious...
Someone is hanging
from a rafter,
waiting to be found.
Thousands are masturbating.
AI surveys the porn they surf,
making new genres in real time
based on unfulfilled search terms...
In one room, a scientist
figured out a cure for cancer
in a burst of inspiration,
but by the time she'd found a pen,
she'd lost it -- no trace remaining.
She then convinced herself
she'd never really had it...
but she had.
Everything that can happen
has happened,
will happen,
and is happening
in the city.
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Imperfect World [Free Verse]
Our plight is craving perfection
in an imperfect world:
imperfectly perceived,
imperfectly performed,
imperfectly programmed.
To have a mind that can imagine perfection,
but never attain it
creates a special hell vehicle.
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Jolie Laide [Common Meter]
I've seen in ordinary eyes a special twinkling glow. In rough and sinewy muscle I've seen a grace in throe. From rotund torsos, I have seen a lithesome prance or strut. I've seen a thing called character, in schnozzes that kink or jut. If beauty below the surface, it finds you splendor-blind. Then defect 's not in the object but in the viewer's mind.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 