They shouted irate philosophies about the foul leviathan. The angry measure of angry men, and all those foul winds blew back on them.
Stone Sages [Free Verse]
Reply
Tag Archives: Free Verse
The Churn [Free Verse]
On the shore of angry seas I hear the crash of foamy waves, but miss the crisp sudsy sizzle that one hears on a sunny summer day. That nuanced note is lost to the Churn
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Boxless Box [Free Verse]
There you sit in a boxless box -- unmoving, but thinking about moving. Then, stretching one trembling hand out to its fullest extent, you feel fingers press into nothing, but a hard kind of nothing.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
POEM: Recyclable Me
In death, I'm a recyclable, my gut biome will gnaw its way out of me like Ripley's Alien - if on a microscopic scale. Agents of the Destroyer will turn my tissues into food bits to feed some other animal. Yes, I am inescapably animal - inescapably in transformation from living to not... This may seem morose, but is it? He who can imagine a dog cracking open his bones to eat away all the marrow -- without an inner cringe, or wince -- is a person who knows freedom.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
The Abyss Peers Back
the image blurs my mind blurs attempts to focus bring a headache so i relax, seeking no clarity, finding no answers adrift in emptiness attached to nothing; the abyss peers back what does it see?
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Brass Monkey
the brass monkey seemed real -- not like a real monkey, but like a real supplicant, making a real offering i guess its realness was the realness of human wishfulness it looked real because it looked like what a human desires in a monkey -- rather than how an actual monkey would behave, hightailing it with the fruit up to too lofty a height to have its jackfruit repossessed i read that the original "brass monkey" was a cannonball rack on an old-timey sailing ship, then the term came to refer to cold weather, because the differential contraction of cold metal would cause the cannonballs to pop off the rack -- hence the saying: "cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey!" and, somewhere along the way, it also became a low-brow malt liquor cocktail seems strange that so many brass monkeys would exist that weren't monkey-shaped, or even made of brass -- but such is the way of words
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Three Thoughts on Shadow
I Where is my shadow? I look behind me & see that it's ill-formed & indistinct. And I wonder whether it's the quality of the light, or the quality of the me. II I read that Oraon shamans study people's shadows. Fat-shadowed people are said to be ill-tempered, stubborn, & domineering [but not necessarily fat-bodied.] III I heard tell of a master of shadows. It might not seem like much of an object of mastery -- shadows being intangible, but he always knew which way he was going and where the world sat at the moment. [And that's more than can be said of the rest of us.] It was a simple skill that most could not be bothered to practice. Everyone else's inability to find value in those dark angular patches was his gain.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
POEM: Information Age Ailment
Screaming streams of information pelt all corners of the mind. Neurons are constantly flickering with flinches. Meanwhile, the body whispers its secrets in the hushed tones of a prayer uttered during a shootout.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
POEM: A World of Loathing
a cat abhors a vacuum vacuums abhor tangled hair tangled hair abhors a hairbrush hairbrushes abhor Victorian Spanking Fetishists Victorian Spanking Fetishists abhor Victorian prudism prudism abhors immodesty immodesty abhors modesty modesty abhors whores whores abhor cheapskates cheapskates abhor expenses expenses abhor ledgers ledgers abhor ink pens ink pens abhor writers writers abhor synonyms synonyms abhor antonyms antonyms abhor continuums and so on... it's true that Eddie Rabbitt loves a rainy night, but who loves Eddie Rabbitt? [the Coalition for Names with Double-Letters, that's who!]
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
POEM: Hypnagogic Voices
I hear voices -- a cold burble of voices -- too dim and distant to extract meaning, too inexplicable not to inject a rationale, or a slate of reasons: -madness -conspiracy -expectation -the impulse toward void filling minds despise quiet, filling it with puzzling prattle, and making any hash of sound into cryptic natter, until sleep descends
Tiger Riding for Beginners 