Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Missing Crux Oxymoron

In lieu of a haiku: 

Of course you do not know 
You’re lacking in something— 
Something is stopping you. 

Monday, April 16, 2018

Poetry: The Last Frontier

Situated in some nebulous distance, 
I do what I do so that the universal balance 
Of which I am a part may remain a balance. 
--Antonio Porchia, “Voices” 

In the blooming Judas tree above 
My head, the spaced-out

Enterprising bees go 
Deliriously about

Their going concern business 
Doing exactly you-know-what— 

In a nebulous universe, so am I 
Doing clearly God knows what. 

Friday, April 13, 2018

It's A Dog's Life Until You Lose It

Beats me but coming 
After a hard day’s scrounging 
For scraps, I’d wager 

Those two dead- 
Tired, bedraggled 
Strays that spend 

Their nights curled 
Up on threadbare welcome 
Mats on opposite sides 

Of the main drag—one 
In front of the bakery 
And the other 

In front of the laundry— 
Most likely imagine that 
As long as they can 

Sleep and dream 
Of warm doghouses 
And doggy food galore, 

There will always be 
The prospect of waking 
Up one fine morning still

Very much alive, yet for some 
Strange reason always 
Wanting more. 

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Finding One's Way To The Domicile Of The Perfect Poem

Poets, I dare say 
Enough is enough, please 
Gather all your senses together— 

You just passed 
The sign 
That said No 

The next one says 
No Exit. 

Moderator’s comments: Hopeless perfectionist par excellence that Huuk is, 
no wonder it took him so long to check back in here. 

Monday, April 9, 2018

Douma, Syria: No Barrel Of Laughs

Yes, indeed 
That ghastly 
Still of a man 

Wearing a gas- 
Mask does look some- 
What grotesque as he 

Holds the body 
Of a gassed child, 
But hold on—just what 

Did you expect 
To see—a bunch 
Of debased home- 

Grown couch potatoes 
Foaming at the mouth 
At the prospect 

Of strange riffraff suffocating 
In faraway basements? 
Change channels.


Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Die-hard Hippie Listening To Jefferson Airplane High Over Greece

—for Tom (Diz) Carroll, music teacher/musician par excellence 
and frequent visitor to these parts 

The light-headed 
Mind can take in only so 
Much at a time 
Before it has to stop 

To ponder if 
The baggage it’s been 
Hauling over the years 
Might not be too fright- 

Fully overweight and better 
Off jettisoned, preferably high 
Over a luminous landscape 
Filled with nothing 

But diaphanous light.

Friday, March 30, 2018

Marching For Their Lives

Enough of this 
And that, my fellow 
Citizens—we all 

Know we get 
Enough of that 
From people who 

Don’t know where 
They’re going 
Or where they’re at— 

Not like these kids 
Who know exactly 
What they’re aiming at. 

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Aphasic Synesthesia

Don’t forget 
If you can’t 

Speak because you 
Have nothing to say, 

Just remember when 
The time came for you 

To listen, you were lost 
In thought, looking 

The other way. 

Saturday, March 24, 2018

Down In The Dumps, Period

When I feel like shit, 
The last thing I want is you 
Telling me to forget everything 
And be happy—I was there once 
And look where I am now, 
Feeling twice as shitty. 

Thursday, March 22, 2018

Selfish Myopic's Blundering Doppelgänger

Too busy looking out 
For yourself, you didn’t 
See the other going 

Over the deep end with you, 
And from the looks of it, 
Neither did he—soon 

The world will be 
A much better place, 
If only you could see. 

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Urgent Message From Where Scott Pruitt Sits*


Cracked pots spied 

Through imagined hole 
In ozone layer—run 

To the nearest 

Shelter for ancient 
Crock repairers! 

*Environmental Protection Agency 

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Oval Mirror, Oval Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Fairest One of All?

Well, since you 
Asked, it looks like 
You’re well 

Past your prime, hunky- 
Bunch—don’t you 
Think it’s time 

You took up another 
Pastime? Like spitting 
In what passes

As your face.

Thursday, March 15, 2018


Wallowing deep 
Down in its own 
Dark juice, the octopus is 
Clearly rejoicing; surely now 
That danger’s over, some long 
Overdue indulgence is 
No great sin. 

You of the spineless 
Backbone wielding 
Wishy-washy hands, 
On the murky bottom 
Of a milieu turning inky 
In the sand, there’s a lesson 
To be learnt here— 

Catch it if you can. 


Thursday, March 8, 2018

Old Old World Emigrant's Longing

His high mountain village 
So remote but still so near 
To his heart now 
Beating in the new 
World, he fancied he 
Heard the homing wind 
Clearly in the cypresses 
Ringing the cemetery, 
Shaping out of thin air 
Every breathless breath 
He took in. 

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Just Sayin' I Think I Am Here For The Stinking Duration

Well, friends
That’s why life- 
Supporting loving 
Words need to be well 
Grounded in grit 
To keep them 
From being cast 
Away like so 
Many tons of swell 
Headed well- 
Meaning shit. 

Saturday, March 3, 2018

KO'd By The Muse

Just between 
You and me, 
I think 
I don’t look at all 
Like a poet but I do 

Thank you so 
Much you think 
I do—would you 
Like me to 
Slam a poem 

About how 
It feels to be so 
Punch drunk you 
Can’t tell the difference 
Between what you want 

To see and what 
You’ve come to? 

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Acid Reign

Crow on, old 
Grackle on tip 
Of blighted cypress, 
Biting acid tongue. 

Monday, February 26, 2018

Growing Up

My father was old enough 
To be my grandfather, 
And I too young 
To know the difference, 
Till I too became 
A man old enough to know
It made no difference.


Friday, February 23, 2018

How To Compose A Politically (In)Correct, (Un)American Arse Poetica Coeval With These Disturbing Times

OK, class— 
Put in 

The right word 

In the right place 

At the right time 

I think 
That’s just 


Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Sucker Bait

Throw out any line at will 
If you will but always hope 
Something more

Than the one that got away
Surfaces when the poem happens
To reel you in again.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Once Is More Than Enough, Thank You

Approaching the twilight 
Years, finally 

Waking up early 
Enough one morning to see 

Day break, then going 
Right back to bed 

Too dead tired even 
To sleep on it again. 

Monday, February 12, 2018

Niggardly And Dutiful At All Costs

Precious the memories, so 
Dear in fact he keeps them 

Hoarded in a satchel given 
To him by a doting mother 

Who shilled him 
Into guarding it 

With his life till 
He’ll remember how 

Much he wasted of it. 

Saturday, February 10, 2018

You Know Something's Not Right In Our Heads: The Syria Syndrome

When Uma Thurman’s Kill 
Bill’s car stunt crash that might 
Have decapitated her in 2003 
Gets more live coverage 
Than the twisted 


Of kids blasted 
To pieces before 
Unbelieving eyes 


Thursday, February 8, 2018

Mean Times Iconoclastic

“What’s to be done or said in the meanwhile I don’t know, 
and what is the use of poets in a mean-spirited time?” 
Friedrich Hölderlin, from “Bread and Wine” 

At such times, the true 
Believer’s mind believes

The eye can 
Take in only so much, 

And wonders if what 
It cannot see 

Otherwise is likewise as 
Unbelievably shattering, 

To say the least. 

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

One Scrambled Alter Ego Sandwich To Go

Y’know, dude, 
You don’t have to 
Put yourself out, 
Always asking 
What it is I want— 
It’s plain as the egg 
On your face— 
I want you to be 
A hard-boiled customer 
Who knows exactly what 
He wants—that’s your order— 
Try sinking your teeth into that.

Saturday, February 3, 2018

King of the Mountain's Fantastic Leaps and Bounds

Trudging to grade 
School heads down, his two 
Older sisters well ahead 
Of him, the boy spies 
The small beckoning 
Hardened mound of sand 
At the abandoned building 
Site the girls have chosen 
To ignore, and which after 
Dashing at the speed of light 
For all of twenty yards 
Yelling his head off, 
He now leaps from base 
Camp to the summit 
In one superhuman bound— 
Demonstrating once again, 
Esteemed ladies and gentlemen 
Of the Faculty of Cognitive 
Sciences, that learning by rote 
Was, is, and shall forever be 
Solely for the pedestrian 


Wednesday, January 31, 2018


To fall 
Asleep next 
To your snoring 

Five-year-old grand- 
Daughter on 
Your right 

And your wife 
Sawing wood 
Next to her, 



Monday, January 29, 2018

Art of the Deal

You keep telling me 
Having money’s hard 
Work and to make 
Do with what I’ve got, 
Which must be a lot 
Easier if one’s not 
A have-not—so what 
Say you slip me that 
Ace up your sleeve 
When I’m not looking 
And make believe 
I’m hard up as your lot. 

Thursday, January 25, 2018

#Me Too


After lopping off 
A limping male 

Poetic limb or two, 
The liberated 

Muse’s shark-like mouth 
Cannot be said to be 

Sardonic, nor her smile ironic, 
Though some macho moronic 

Poets have gone so far 
As to call it romantically 

Emasculating— a void, 
A fathomless, yawning abyss. 


With all due respect 
To the free- 

Loving unfaithful 
Beastly romantic 

Percy, if Mary were 
Here, I’d surmise 

She’d find nothing grotesque
Or amiss with this fantastic script— 

After all she was 
Nobody’s monster, just 

Frankenstein’s perfect 

Monday, January 22, 2018

A Poem Should Be (14)


Like that home 
Less mutt taking 
In the winter sun 

Shine on 
The leeward side 
Of a derelict’s hovel. 

Saturday, January 20, 2018

America Emaciated, Land of The Free Depraved

Eat your hearts out, you well- 
Heeled so-called emancipated 

Masses yearning to be free 
Of guilt by association, for you 

Too can now starve and torture 
Your selves with plenty 

Of generous home-school 
Helpings of stark impunity. 

Wednesday, January 17, 2018


Who will calculate for us the cost of our decision to forget? 
--George Seferis 

No bones about 
It—of those departed 
And of their deeds 

Most memorable, 
Most haunting 
Naught shall 

Always remain 

For when all’s said 
And done, who’s to say 
And yet? 


Sunday, January 14, 2018

Reaching Poetic Inspiration In Four Easy Steps


Wait long enough 
For something to grab 
Your fancy. 


Get ready 
For nothing to pass 
You by. 


Don’t ever 
Blink in the wink 
Of an eye. 


If nothing materializes, repeat 
All steps above piously incanting 
Ghost Riders in the Sky.


Thursday, January 11, 2018

Nipped In The Bud

If only 
Your resolve to turn over 
A new leaf was just 
As deep-rooted as that 

Desire to bury what is most 
Shallow in you, you just 
Might stumble your way 
To Fall, too. 

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Please To Google “K'ung Futzu Gobbledegook Twitter Troller" For Important New Year Message!

Kong the Master Baiter say: 

Year of Dog this year and you 
Still surprised I speak 
Your language? Do not be— 

You see again 
And again nothing 
But claptrap come 

Naturally to pussy 
Grabbing prick 
Like me. 

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