Sorry. I wanted to write something silly in anapests.
Racoon Love In no way to be confused with Muskrat Love
With loud snarling and snapping they woke us today,
As the cedar's limbs rustled and twisted and swayed
And we wondered what animals were there so dismayed.
Were racoons always noisy when mating this way?
It resounded like cats in an alley at night
As they circled and bit in a hell of a fight.
In their violence we worried the tree's braches might
Not be strong enough, dropping them from their great height.
But then everything turned out okay in the end--
It grew quiet, the tree held, yet seemed to portend
Still more moaning and shrieking, like starting a trend,
As when we, in our bedroom, soon tried to transcend.
1:
by the stair's bare treads
her faded avocado phone
with kinked & twisted coils
rings & rings, rings & rings
echoes in a nicotined hall
2:
Floyd's picture disc revolves
getting stuck on the dark side
Elton's dandy, everything's pink
'cos his rocketman landed with
stars on his eyes, no prisms
3:
winds blat at eighty per hour
a clean white page on which to
notate the music of mush dogs
igloo-deep in dense, thick drifts
as they wait to sing, wait to Hike!
4:
her dad floats, wired up, tubed.
his show's over. he's glassy, lost
in space, seeks star-men through his
u.v visor. she splashes down—no signal
she sighs and pats his bland, milk hand
5:
he plucks at his courage, ditches
his cap, tucks poetry in his pocket
and offers to buy Venus at the Bar
a drink—she spins, slow, on her stool
smiles, asks to hear what he's written
Suzie and I were listening to Ozzys Boneyard
They were playing the top 30
Hard & Heavy Albums from 1983
Some of the dumbest shit I’d ever heard
I almost wonder how I listened to it
Back in the day
and took it so seriously
Dökken
Blue Öyster Cult
Krökus
Allcatrazz
The Nuge
Bällz
(OK, I made that last one üp)
Everyone searching for a word they could
Put a motherfücken umlaut in
The songs were so ridiculously bad/great:
Medieval warriors and knights
Love gone bad
Bad love gone good
Püssy and cat scratch fevers
Wanting to rock
The wizzard beyond the mountains
Knowing that
It’s a long way to the top, if you wanna rock n roll…
My wife and I actually enjoyed it
Dumb and fun
Memories from high school pouring in…
I was 15 again and pissed off at the world
(Now I am 56 and pissed off at the world, hardly a lick wiser)
Paging thru Kerrang, Circus, Creem, Metal Edge and Metal Hammer
At the news store downtown
Trying to steal a copy of Swank magazine
I rolled it up and put it up my pant leg
Got away with it too
My wife remembered listening to Sabbath
Under her covers
With her old cassette recorder
Listening low
So her grandparents wouldn’t
Make her shut it off…
We made fun of the bands and the music
Enjoying the whole time
We made up our own band names:
Fück Fäce
Tuürd
Klöwnzz
Iron Pütz
While listening to Motörhead
And absolutely loving
Every minute of it
In this room,
we speak of things divine,
Of love, of life,
and all that's to find.
But then a fly buzzed in, and all was changed,
And words of anger filled the air unchained.
A conversation, a storm of words, With passion and anger, and fire.
A battle of wills, a clash of swords,
With no quarter given, no desire.
A battle of words, a war of the mind,
A clash of opinions, a clash of might,
A battle of wills, a battle of rights.
The air is thick with the heat of the fight,
The words like arrows, the blows like spears.
The combatants, locked in mortal combat,
Will not yield, will not give in, to their fears.
The goddess of glee,
she cheers them on,
Her laughter a siren's call to the fray.
like a dragon of fire,
she breathes her wrath,
Her words were like venom, her blows like clay.
The fly on the wall, a silent observer,
Watches the battle unfold, with no care.
The players are unknown, the stakes uncertain, and The outcome, a mystery, in the air.
"Yes, make sure the fly" "Doesn't come in the fire" "The breath of desire"
"May get you flying higher"
But one thing is certain, this much I know,
The battle will end, and one will be vanquished.
The victor will claim the spoils of war,
and the loser, left to lick their wounds and be banished.
"He's a coward," she asserted, "a rotten sheep." "He thinks he's God,
but he's the lowest creep."
"I'd breathe fire on him," said her voice,
"And make him wish he'd never been born."
Her voice spoke up, so calm and clear,
"I'm here to show them who's who to be."
"Too cowardly to talk against me," said she, "they hide behind shells, you see."
"I'm here to show them who's who to be," She let out, "to show them that they can't push me around."
"I'm too cowardly to talk against you," he confessed. "I'm hiding behind shells, I'm not to be found."
"Unless you have the chivalry to be the self" "You've gotta be unless you're the person who let her be in it?"
The lady announced...
"I am really happy to see you fighting for me"
"It gives immense pleasure in calling you as Goddess of Glee"
"Sorry, I'm not a pleader," "I'm talking in to lead her!"
"I'm not a lawyer," declared her calm voice,
"I'm just talking in general, no choice."
"I've said what I needed to say," said her steady voice, "a natural kick to get away."
"A forest is a good place to get lost in," she told, "I was there a few weeks ago."
"Oh, gotcha. Well, forests still can be a perilous place..."
"Every step you take disturbs a universe under your feet." explained the wanderer. "Look in a magnifier, and you can see," said he, "a myriad of life is there to be."
"Which, if you think about it for a moment," added he.
"We are nothing but that same speck on a universe to be."
"Sara taught me to laugh lightly," she said, "and laugh often, and be healthy."
"Well, it's a good lesson," announced the wayfarer,
"be around people That make you laugh, if you aren't, expand your repertoire."
"Indeed, thank you," asserted she, "my dad used to say, leave the people who'd disturb the peace of your mind today."
Wimbledon
Wimbledon has started......
Whites on Green
Players' ages range:
From forties to teen!
Strawberry with Vanilla
Djokovich with Rybakina....
Singles, Doubles.....Mixed
Where dreams/ambitions get nixed .....
Careers are made.....
Superstars get launched.
All across the Globe
Fans get frenzied and staunch...ed!!!
Humid too
One of those days
Where it could be sunny one moment
Then cloudy the next
Or maybe a pop-up thunderstorm
To make things interesting
The humidity was thick and heavy
You really could see it
I don’t mind it
Reminded me of being a kid on summer vacation
I always liked the heat
Heat and humidity never bothered me much
(My wife’s frizzy hair disagrees)
We busted our asses on the farm Sunday
Reinforcing a culvert
Over Coopalong Creek
Keeping Japanese knotweed at bay
Planted three dogwoods
To keep the streambank where it was
My L3 and L4 hated me for it.
They cursed at me: “You fucking SUCK...”
My reward was numb pain in my SI joints
And in my glutes
We got home
First thing I did was take some Aleve
And some cbd
Then took a dip in the pool
Neither of us were very hungry
But had some leftovers anyway
The mosquitos were out in full force
And the heat and humidity
Were still in the 80s
I thought it would be nice to
Take a summer evening drive
So we piled into our F150
And set course for getting lost
I love summertime drives
The hazy sun
Looking out at the farmland
Lost in my thoughts
Listening to music
Fields broken by tree line after tree line
We drove past Menschuk’s Sod Farm
And eventually got “lost” just as I’d hoped
I’d been down this road once or twice before
But it had been several years
I thought maybe we were somewhere deep
In Alexandria township
“Left or right, my babe?” I asked Becky at a T intersection
She thought about it – she never took decisions lightly
She weighed the pros and cons
Thought thru potential unintended consequences
What her gut was telling her
I was never one for patience or overthinking something…
But Rebecca likes to get things right
Taking in a variety of different data points
“Ummmm. Right.” She finally said, happy with her answer
She smiled at me, as if to say,
“You know me…”
Going right meant a storm looming in the distance
The clouds ahead were slate gray
Bursts of air lightning
Arced across the sky
Every once in a while
We continued on
I slowed down and looked at my radar
Didn’t look too bad
A not-so-loving glancing blow of a storm
A few drops landed on the windshield
The rain was a tease
Never really came down hard
At least not on us
But up north they were getting dumped on
We turned for home
At least where we thought it was
It was nice not to have time pressure
We passed more tree lines separating
Farms from other farms
It felt cooler
I felt calmer
My back wasn’t half as bad as I thought
Rebecca’s hair didn’t look very frizzy
Alone upon the throne I departed
Came to shit but only farted
Saw a hole in the stall next door
And a pair of knees upon the floor
Dropped my trousers and freed the snake
For a good time for goodness sake
Heard her slurp and heard her moan
When I was done reached for my phone
Sent a text to my wife so dear
"On my way home, no need to fear."
Heard a phone buzz from the same stall
My heart skipped a beat and I heard her call
"I'll meet you there, just had a quick snack."
"Take your time," I said and put my phone back.
I knocked on the door and said to my better half
"How about another round?" and we both started to laugh
I stuck it back in and once more did I spurt
And made sure she enjoyed her cream-filled dessert.
betrayed by
flesh:blood
beats tattoos
against the
underside of
skin flushed
in steady push to expand surface area on palms and soles, prime targets for a body demanding to be cooled, dilating veins, capillaries, speeding respiration, boosting all perspiration till this body is a cross i wear and i wonder (in a quite non-violent way)
if i take a blade
to these hands
& these feet
release the
pounding
pressure
prick my
sweating
forehead
open rib
beneath
a breast
would the drumming
slow, would my body
cool, or would i
simply feel
stig
mat
ised
?
revision 1:
heretical thoughts on a hot day
betrayed by
flesh: blood
beats tattoos
against the
underside of
skin flushed
in steady push to expand surface area on palms and soles, prime targets for a
body demanding to be cooled, dilating veins, capillaries, speeding respiration,
& boosting all perspiration till this body is a cross i wear and i wonder if—in a
quite non-violent
way—i should
take sharpened
blade to both
my hands &
these 2 feet,
release that
p-pounding
pressure, if
i prick slick
forehead,
open a rib
beneath a
breast, will
wild drums
slow &body
cool, or will
i simply feel
stigmatised
?
revision 2:
heretical thoughts on a hot day
betrayed by
flesh: blood
beats tattoos
against the
underside of
skin flushed
in steady push to expand surface area on palms and soles, prime targets for a
body demanding to be cooled, dilating veins, capillaries, speeding respiration,
& boosting all perspiration till this body is a cross i wear and i wonder—in a
quite non-violent
way—if i should
take a wicked
blade to both
my hands &
these 2 feet,
release that
p-pounding
pressure, if
i should prick
slick brow, &
pierce a rib
beneath my
breast, will
wild drums
slow & body
cool, or will
i simply feel
stigmatised
?
1. A guitar stands like a sentry
in the corner of a white room.
Steel strings are unruly
at the pegs, a wood hourglass
with a bad haircut.
2. Snow rising on the deck,
fat flakes falling, accumulating
"By God it's a true Noreaster!"
A woman is framed in the doorway,
steam rising, aromatic, from a mug.
3. Slippin and a slidin,
peekin and a hidin, the road is lost
under this frozen carpet, a landscape
of uncharted humps and one
plastic Santa tied to a tree.
4. He wears shorts on March 1st,
no matter the weather and his knees
are pale and bony, oddly hairless.
"You bettah watch out for him deah,
likin' the drink like he does."
5. These rooms are sterile,
iron beds, cupboards. Shut the damn door:
I'm sick of her tv. Life was different when you
were alive. When you were alive life was.
firstly, wear a reader's head: all eye sockets and other orifices
unless otherwise invited
i'll jump into your poems
wide open and eager
to experience all y'all have to show
taste everything on offer—even if it's bitter
feel the proffered sun, wind, snow
on my face, rain's glitter on wet grass
rocks/mud/sand/sea beneath my feet
hear the cries of babes denied their suckle
the quickened breaths of passion and of fear
see your sunsets and parades, books and beggars
follow your perfumes and odours
from mountain to kitchen to corpse
second innings,
don a writer's head: brain compartmentalised, thinking engaged
this one's shielded, more reserved
eyes half-lidded, all features small
it protects from wild impacts
emotional meteors slung its way
strikes reduced by distance, craters minimised
allowing the brain to float and consider ...reconsider
to flow along specific routes
of language, sound, rhythm... choices
to finer understandings
without the distraction of splashes
—sipping the wine
rather than diving into the vat
lastly, wear a critter's head: the one with balancing scales on top and a disregard for anything other than the poem
by general or specific invitation
& with the benefit of data gleaned
from heads heretofore employed
the critter's wearing mufflers
blindfold, white cotton gloves
a nose clip, has its lips stitched closed
(for now)
brain adds & subtracts
weights applied to simple pans
suspended on fine chains
strengths & weaknesses (as perceived)
evaluates mistakes in execution
lack of vision & boredom-quotient
balanced against nuggets of greatness
waits for things to settle definitively
& reads the outcome
always taking into account
the resonance of echoes
that filter through flesh to this heart
& reserving the ultimate right
to change its mind
post posting
Lady Inventor and Robot.
-----------------------------------------
She switches on " Masterful Mode" button:
Turns round and bends over Full On!!?
Robot taketh Lady Inventrix 'cross Lap:
" Spank...Smaak....Slap!!!?"
Pussy throbs in sweet Spasms :
Lady Inventrix Orgaaasms!!!!
She closes her eyes in Maso-Sub Bliss!!!
Aaah, can U: Sweet Reader imagine
A scenario like This!!!?
minds are embodied
figuratively and literally
our bodies of equivalence
in size and shape
bags of fluid and air
main receptors perched on top
within the same shield
of thin atmosphere
beneath the same sun
that arcs across our skies each day
we depend on a 3D world
and a need to find sustenance
water and ways to regulate heat
but language
that embodiment of cultures
and rendered in pen
print, pencil, paint
in symbol, sound, and motion
may require the flavours of translation
for us to embrace cognitives of understanding
the empathies we share