Category: Poetry

Does it matter to you, my head?
For all you know I am brain dead.

Is your only interest skin?
Ah, you don’t care what’s housed within.

Is billowed muscle strength to you?
Blind to its deeds; you just imbue.

Anatomy is what you seek?
Paint the living; the dead reek.

Are you an artist every day?
When hid by canvas, world’s at bay.

One isn’t less so because they are “old”.
Why avert our eyes as time’s wit grows gold?

When everything you choose to say bears weight…
Minds unappreciative of extra great.

We value auld objets: vintage, classic.
Yet, our value of elders grows brassic.

I’ve begun earning clarity of age.
I’m shocked that not more of us are enraged.

Like tossing fine wine after forty-five.
Why don’t we revere remaining alive?

I don’t ever need to be entertained.
My mind is not so narrowly constrained.

I go nowhere without occupiers.
A book, brain games, earbuds & charging wires.

Conversationally, I’ll get involved.
Give fresh perspective; so a problem’s solved.

Yet, inane wittering about weather…
Makes me daydream of ball-gags & tethers.

Can’t get my goat; for, I’ve refuge inside.
I think myself free…mind’s eye open wide.

If this is the last of us;
If this is the final fuss…

I think I’d choose survival.
Salute new hope’s revival.

If I survived life that far;
Just under bottleneck’s bar…

Whatever’s left is gravy.
My blue’s no selfish navy.

If I’d only been aware;
If I’d noticed. I knew “there”…

This is my fifth “end of days”.
Follow me. I know these ways.

Man says, “check it; before you wreck it“…I do this all the time.
I have zero interest in owning eyes with a purple shine.

I review each day, each week, each month…spot wrinkles in my wakes.
I always smooth them, oft unseen, with delicate garden rakes.

Never invisible, no, not I, just petrified when seen.
Really unsure how I could leave; porcelain rarely breaks clean.

From your view I am novelty…decoration for your home.
Any beast dares sniff your grass will get my spade across his dome.

I do have purpose: mischievous groundsman in the garden.
I love your earth & the torch I bear her: lambently ardent.

No need for shade in the glare of the moon.
Rendering it safer than a sun stroke swoon.

All eaten by night are, for a time, free.
Anything can happen where none can see.

Drunk by darkness, one peers from inside out.
Though, no one outside knows what dark’s about.

The blob of night slips & slides over earth.
Where you were swallowed, you’ll also be birthed.

Miss the cool black in the glare of the sun?
Don’t fret. Today will make another one.

One or two in a lucky mucky mess.
Three, & then four in a state of undress.

Five on to six; the vibe slams into walls.
Seven, then eight; thru the windows it crawls.

Nine followed by ten & we’re on a roll.
Eleven & twelve…reach out to the soul.

Thirteen & fourteen-dissonant refrains.
Fifteen & sixteen sound flattens terrains.

Seventeen, eighteen culls preachers & nuns.
Nineteen plus twenty…it all starts with one’s.

Passion love from a beard of rough.
Irritating scratchy & tough.

Rug burn consuming lips & chin.
Witch hazel’s burn heals pubic sin.

Carried off in ardent action.
Disheveling waxed up fashion.

Slap head bald, but whiskers to knees.
Mustache rides for minimal fees.

The coarse & sharp scrape of stubble.
Hairy kisses cause me trouble.  

The wiser of our number knows:
When to open & when to close.

When we should dip & when to stay.
Who will blockade or speed your way.

Which lies to ignore or call out.
Who’s good, neutral or evil clout.

Read intentions of kith & kin.
Use eye contact to take one’s temp.

I’d not survive, so I don’t go.
For me, hardest part’s saying no.

I’m neither aimless nor am I lazy.
Though…maybe just a little bit crazy?

The life I had lived just stopped making sense.
The chasing of money distilled in me tense.

Money muddled my truest ambition.
My heart was in the game of creation.

Subtracting monetary endeavor…
I was forced to create morsels clever.

Words are free so they were first.
Now painting & sculpture further slake thirst.

Cheapest materials understood well.
Money creeps back when encouraged to sell.

However, now, there is no greed in it.
Enough for rain & a friendly visit.