Huuklyeand Cinquor on Dead Ends

The last thing I want you to tell me

Is how I got here in the first place.

Moderator’s comments: At last, something that leaves no loose ends as to where Cinquor’s thought wants to take us.

Steeple Seen Through Mist in Early Morning

--for Bob Arnold

ah

in

spire

ring.

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Skeletons in Closets

—after Fernando Pessoa

Heteronym,

If someone called you out

With all your hidden names,

Which one would dare to answer,

And which would take the blame?

Moderator’s comments: Readers of this blog may remember Joe Hutchison's comments on Huuklyeand Cinquor’s first offering a day ago directly below this entry and my answer back. True to form, Cinquor shot back with the above bone-chilling reply which leaves little room for evasive maneuvering by anyone, let alone the poet revealed for what he is—a skeleton in the foul rag and bone shop of the telltale heart.

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Gravity in Poets

Tied fast

To a slow-moving zeppelin,

What these heavyweights need

Is an anchor.

Moderator's comments: As expected, this comes at us fast and furiously cynical; who could wish for more in a debut piece? And the ludicrous image of self-anointed Olympian poets strapped to the side of a cumbersome gargantuan dirigible like the Hindenburg, for example, makes it even more fiery. Speaking of images, if one wished to delve further into this piece, one could even find allusions, i.e. zeppelin, heavyweights, to the legendary rock group, Led Zeppelin. What a tour de force! One can only wonder if his next offering will be as riveting.

Two Poems from the Greek Underground

Let sleeping dogs lie? Perhaps. But if the Germans paid the Greeks the WWII reparations they still owe them, they wouldn't have to wake their dead.