Just Perpetual Lies That Blind, Poet

Now set to fall on your face after all

These years of chasing that

 

Elusive golden mean, don’t you go without

Telling yourself you knew

 

Exactly what you were up to again. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stillborn Comprehension

You too have listened to many 

Who spoke in riddles without 

 

Understanding a word, not 

Even the pregnant 

 

Silences left behind 

In their absence.

 

 

 

It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, Is It Not?

If it is indeed 

Natural as Heraclitus says 

 

It is, for man to know 

His own mind and be 

 

Sane, why is it so mind- 

Boggling maddening 

 

Hard to tell who is 

And who is not? 

 

 

 

Haiku: Flatiron Greek Heatwave, Summer 2022 AD

This sun spreads panic— 

The scant shade we seek cowers 

Under steaming rocks.

 

 

What'd I Say? (A Poem Should Be #24)

Hey, hey there,

 

Hold your horses--

Like that early 

Bird morning mourning

 

Dove’s alighting on one 

Of our garden’s 

Judas trees and ooh

 

Ah oohing 

For its tardy 

Out of it mate 

 

To get with it and make 

One more daily 

Routine lovingly singular—

 

See that bough shaking? 

I told you it was 

Worth the wait. 

 

 

 

Remembering George "Goober Gun" Geydon, 4th Grade Schoolyard Terror

Terrible pupil but 

 

Could shoot a viscous, 

Vicious glob of snot aimed 

 

Straight for your amazed face 

Two yards away before you could 

 

Blow your uppity nose once.

 

 

 

Dystopian Eden

Frayed 

 

Skins of serpents rotting 

Apple peels scattered 

 

Over once virgin grounds— 

Fishy smelling whatnot 

 

Holier-than-thou spiels 

Making the usual 

 

Suspect rounds. 

 

 

 

Aborted Bang-up Writing Prompt

Jump start 

 

Writing about 

Some vivid childhood 

 

Memory 

 

Involving anything 

That first pops up, 

 

Don’t break too many 

Lines and do not 

 

Punctuate for at least five and see 

What happens; if nothing 

 

Memorable appears, repeat 

One phrase at least 

 

Three times; keep writing 

To wherever 

 

Your often failing memory takes you. 

You may have to repeat 

 

This time-tested procedure 

Countless times before going on 

 

To bigger and better things, say 

Learning how not to 

 

Fade away with a whimper 

But with a bang-bang you're dead only

 

When things can't get any worse.

 

 

 

 

Well-Meaning Congeries Of Poets Bringing Further Order To The Universal Order Of Things

--on some lines by Rebecca Solnit* 

 

Billions upon billions 

Of stars given 

 

In the universe but how 

Is it we make our own 

 

Constellations? 

 

 

*"The stars we are given. 

The constellations we make."