Aporia of a Somewhat Irreverent Lost Soul

It’s still Greek to me—though 

I know the good book says that 

Somewhere someone above all 

This is both the Alpha and the Omega, why 

Is there no table of contents? 

A Critique on Blake's Songs of Innocence and of Experience Written by One Old Enough to Know Better

All in all, an encouraging effort in retrospect but still 

One should use the imagination sparingly, William— 

Too much of a good thing spoils 

An unruly child.

Definitely Not Lemmings #43

As the poem below illustrates, it’s currently freezing over here at The Milk and Honey House, so it’s time to give a warm welcome to Miroslav Dušanić, a Bosnian poet-in-exile living and working in Hildesheim, Germany. Miroslav writes in Serbian and German and you can visit his blog here. Thank you, Miroslav!

Polar Bare Treacle at The Milk and Honey House (Meligalas)

Stark naked 

At three below 

With the two 

Galvanized pails full 

Of water out waiting 

All night for the morning 

Over-the-head ablutions 

Now wearing ice caps—so 

Mush before the sun melts us all, 

You foot-dragging old dog! 

 

Midnight Rambler

Inspiration? 

No need to use it 

As a foil— 

In the end 

You’ll still be caught 

In the middle, the night just 

Beginning with your burning 

The midnight oil. 

Ventriloquist

Mudslinger, 

Keep throwing it long enough 

And soon you’ll hear 

Your voice carrying above 

All the other dummies— 

Do you really want to hear? 

Abandoned

I know my simile’s weak but still

I insist these old houses are like old people 

In one aspect at least—finding themselves alone 

They fall silent, 

And wait and wait and wait 

Till they find themselves falling, 

Falling into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.