Tuesday, January 22, 2019

Vacuous Out-Of-The-Box Thinker Going In Circles


Isn’t it odd that 
Nothing is always 

Part of everything even 
When you stop at nothing 

To think about it? 


Sunday, January 20, 2019

Not Your Usual Stone-Faced Façade




Here, 
Under a now brilliant 
Clear cold blue 
Winter sky that just 
Two hours ago 
Dumped a foot
Of blinding snow in 
And around its hollow 
Shell, I find myself 
Wondering how 

It is this magnificent 
Still standing tall 
Two-storey centenarian 
Stone derelict no longer 
With a roof to its name 
Still shamelessly refuses 
To lie there in shambles 
And take its monumental 
History down 
With it. 



Friday, January 18, 2019

Elizabethanesque Ruse


Dear hurt halting heart, fain 
Pretend you did not 

Hear me falter where once 
My heart beat true, in truth 

It was not my intention, 
Nor was it meant for you. 

Yours truly, 
(Signed) 
You-know-who. 


Wednesday, January 16, 2019

Euphoria Of The Ephemeral No Longer Disillusioned Man


The uplifting passage in question was: 

Aporia— 

Wondering once 
More at length where 
It all comes from, 

One finally begins 

Asking why 
It took so long 
To arrive. 

Monday, January 14, 2019

Screwed Up


Face it— 
The more you look 
At what you’re doing 
To yourself each day, 
The more you want to 
Blame the mirror, don’t you 
Dare look the other way. 


Saturday, January 12, 2019

Before The Sun Comes Up


Love, no need to ask 
But I’ll tell you anyway— 
Poetry’s about trying 
To tell the difference 
Between nights full 
Of questions and answers 
Begging for the light of day. 


Thursday, January 10, 2019

Sure Looks Like It's A Dog's Life


Especially after 
A squall— 

A lot like that home- 
Less mutt lapping 

Up the winter sun- 
Light on the lee- 

Ward side of that derelict 
Wino’s soaked ply- 

Board hovel.

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Bedding Down In Communal Winter Lodgings


Safe above 

The nocturnal prowling 
Of neighborhood cats, 
Where once there was one 
Lone small brown sparrow 
Perched every night 

On one of the three 
Forgotten rusty construction 
Guide line nails stuck 
In the stonework near 
The top of our portico’s arch, 

Now there are three, each 
On a nail of its own, 
In like company, their tiny 
Talons locked tight, holding 
Fast to the common dream 

Of outlasting one more night. 


Saturday, January 5, 2019

Know Thyself, Poet


You tell yourself you’ll know 
Better the next time and not 
Make the same mistake, yet 

There’s another voice inside 
You telling you by the time 
The next time comes you’ll 

Still be your old self made 
Over in another image, 
Making the same mistake. 

Thursday, January 3, 2019

Narcissist Not Worth A Plugged Nickel


For what it’s worth, 
Here’s my two cents: 

If you can’t stop yourself 
From saying what you’re made of, 
Bite the bullet, shoot your mouth
Off as usual and tell us 
What you aren’t. 


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