Empty Rhetoric's Catastrophe

Apostrophic yes— 
And never failing 

To omit whatever’s left 
Of your dwindling devices, 

You end up vomiting 
The whole works. 

Inland Marina

No ordinary tree for us love but the drift 

wood craft we assembled for Christmas 
past and awaiting to rise 
phoenix-like for Christmas future 

lies presently moored in cob 
webs in corner of portico 
affording a splendiferous 

view of mountains floating 
in a deep blue sky in the balmiest calms 
of summer gifts we hope never run dry. 

Coaxing the Gentle Reader to Reveal Himself with Sweet Nothings

Not croaking, 
Sticking it out 

Silently, something 
Like a stoic 

Frog immobile, almost 
Imperceptibly moving now

And then to trap οne more 
Gullible fly at the end

Of a too, too gooey tongue. 

Bard Swept Away by Runaway Personification

No it wasn’t the singular multitudinous 
Seas incarnadine washing ashore 
On the headland of a rocky poetic 

Coastline that did him in,

 

It was the heart breaking 

News of the tsunami inside him 
That took him by surprise, 
Racing headlong as he was 
Towards a receding hairline. 

 

 

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Gnomic Verse

Savants who should know better 
Keep telling me it’s best 
To let things go; the next thing 
You know they’ll be underground 
Just like me, wishing they’d held on 
To whatever they cherished 
A wee bit more. 


Moderator’s comments: 
 “Less is more”— Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Letter and Spirit of the Law

Stay a while and muse on this 

Granite tombstone that’s stood its ground 
Steadfast over the years— 

Not like those chiseled letters long since spirited away 
By whatever it was deep down the words wanted to say. 

Goodbye to All That

Nothing ambiguous about it— 
Once the message arrives 

In no time at all 
You’ll understand why 

It took you so long to get here. 

Broken Heart

Leave it alone long enough 
And it will cure itself 

In the dark, returning 
To the light only to develop 

New scars that need 
New blood to nourish them. 

Antediluvian

shimmering 

on the very edge


of the fragile 

twig, one last trembling 


drop. 

A Little Learning Leads to One Being Dead in the Water

Buoyant at the depth of your skill 
While downing swill after swill 

From the Pierian Spring, keep this 
Swell thought afloat if you will— 

Deep thirst for undying fame leaves 
Many a poet bloated lying there still. 

Perspective Distance

--for Ed Baker 



the moon looks


to be fleeting 

yet staying


on intimate terms

an arm’s length away 

Regarding Warning Labels on Provocative Works of Literature

Be forewarned— 

These poems contain language 
That might be considered unsavory 
And thus unfit for public consumption 
By large portions of the hoi polloi. 

If you’ve been served 
Shit for brains, don’t 
Just stand there diddling about, 
Eat your fucking heart out.

Must Read: Electrifyingly Imperative Chinese Multi-Language Vispo Found Poem!

Please right click to open new window, thus letting in as many mosquitos as necessary to fully appreciate stunning power of poetic apparatus.

Tale of the Lonesome Pine

Been rooted here so long 
Listening to the wind, 
Don’t make much sense 
To get up and mosey on 
Further down the ridge. 

If I did, I’d be still 
There standing in line 
Looking up 
Waiting to see 
How much I missed.