MORE/ MORDANT
February 24, 2021
I cant, but I’m wanting to be more mordant
I must bring my grades up, get rated-up “smart-alecky”
I could slip pseudo-snarky from the back of the class
It’d muster some sweet laughter, then go warm just like true love
Though they’d see that I had come to this,
All red-faced and lost
god, if only I got some of this
Resting red-faced and lost.
.

FORTH YEAR
February 23, 2021
“My brain hurt like a warehouse
It had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things
To store everything in there”
From “Five Years” from David Bowie

.
Might mixed media shaman- lite
& Brainiacs in italics write
Strive To Have Thee Happy P.O.V”?
I only choke on O.K.
.
OK It looks here we’re lost
It only looks just/ old whiskey must
Unfortunately hamper
Unfolding this old map
Help hold yr own
Here, you better take the fifth.
.
Precedently ominous/ Night crows might caw,
I propose we suppose this labyrinth
Is the Casbah
.
S O N G
February 20, 2021
COLD POWER OUTAGE
February 18, 2021
There’s a cold power outage
To my home and lights.
I was working an old poem
Now deep inside my PC’s tights.
I know how to work it
I have the patience to rework it
It’s so warm when I rework it.
Hotter, when it all comes back on
When words, my words, I see
Then surely I’ll take measures
To make sure we’re both free
.
.
L O S T / J U S T
February 18, 2021

.
I. LOST
.
For now, awhile, I won’t let you pull me from the wreckage/
But, how you hold my hand, for both of us
Until the jaws of life arrives/
Tho’ I’m not at a lost of words, I’m lost
In thought / “I’m lost”, I thought,
“And hiding from the hidden costs.”
.
II. BIRDSONG
.
I’ll crave then dare to speak of crow and sparrows
in shrapnel-filled WW I battlefield winds,
in sharp scarlet dawns/
They’ll sing to find their kind
if they’ve lived,
A song will find its way back,
between the blood & budding daybreak.
.
III. J U S T
.
it could be/ a branch of a tree
perched at a high hill
would have a new bud just
breaking through/ it would be just for you
and in time a blossom. You’d just
lift yr arm up/ and pull it down/ just in time
to drink it through
with yr deepest stealing breath.///
.
.
.
for Kay Ryan, K, and mostly M
C O L O R S
February 14, 2021
I’ll take on fake cyber lawyers,
I’ll finally fill out the cyber will.
It’s a fine time to fill in those spaces,
Was some suggestion from one lover;
Plus I got a call from a faraway brother;
Cards splayed out on the table,
A gasp goes down ‘round the drawn crowd,
As they turn to peak at my color
Already leaking from my face. They cannot wait.
.

.
And I turn up to seek her colour,
Already flushing her chest and cheek.
I can very hardly wait
She’ll start to try to speak…
And I’ll find and see
All in all, the riches mined & left shining
After all finalities,
Are just filthy lucre
Aside memories
FAR-FETCHED GAINS
February 13, 2021
.
I now redden to reminiscences
I’ve had a share of furtive glares & glimpses
Clandestine tiny glares & glances
But now, it’s on, to save our brave new world
I’m now ready to walk new roads
Step surer into newer eventualities
Bet dearer on far-fetched gains
I’m pretty sure to shift to uplifting new payloads
Pretty sure no hurricanes
It could all work out, take root,
It’d adapt.
FORESHADOWING
February 11, 2021

I’m going to start by foreshadowing the end
With bright light/ Out the tunnel/ Our portend
With bright flowers/ All about/ Those late hours
When willows will make their own music
Low upon still river water
We too, use quiet power.
Instantly eventually emancipation
We will warm to harmonies
All/ For our own harmonies too
(We’ve the dry tears and years we’ve waited)
M Y O W N P A R A D E
February 2, 2021

.
Walking, mostly neat in clockwork/ close/ meter,
Warmer ghosts from my former features;
All the roles, All the resume’,
Falling in line, Just the crew to rescue me.
Faded as sad old soldiers, parted.
(Vain fantasies say old glories stay guarded)
Again, always, They had heaved it all in a heavy chest.
Again, always, they had heaved in their chest
Taking it to heart & head.
.
I’ll call it for you my own VFW
hall. I have my own tall tales to tell,
We’ll share lies, & libations.
I’ll wear my mightier pen.
I’ll share sham wisdom wide open.
But first, false memories in verse.
& what’s worst, I’ll con, & confide open.
.
.
.
.
“I’m ready to go anywhere/ I’m ready for to fade/ Into my own parade”
—————-Dylan (the troubadour one), from “Mr. Tambourine Man,” (of course
Your Morning Porcelain
February 1, 2021
.

.
My funny anglophile,
Honeychile,
I’m sure you could fit as british
I’m sure that could be one big hat
You could wear in yr garden for tea
It’s a cliché’
But porcelain
Is the crayon I’d use for yr skin.
It’s not the naughty tickle that gets you grinning
When I kiss yr creamy creamy belly,
You forget that it calls with capitol B Beauty.
When I kiss yr bum & backside,
You ignore that it’s more than yr backthere backside.
When I explore yr inner arm, yr inner leg,
All yr inners, Inner faces,
Now you know new inner secret places,
New, even to you, you nude alabaster
.
& you pray I’ll stay slow
but oh
you go
“go faster”.