Monthly Archives: September 2018

Devils, you know

Hoppler and Ickle
give winklets and snorts,
callous and curmudgeon troubles of sorts.

Beleaguered daydreams
seen grousing in gloom-
colloping seeds of an impending doom.

Walking their cretins
on boardwalks of bread
opening quand’ries, revealing their stead.

Driving the demons
all gone malcontent –
cavernous morass of judicial intent.

Watch well the swindlers
and give them no sway
shine light upon them and thwart their foul play.

Hoppler and Ickle
won’t deal with the fact
the devils you know is just what they lack.

Paragon

The frost that abides on the blades of grass
in the early morning darkness,
will sublimate as the sunbeams rise and amass
and reveal the work of the artless.

The light will envelope a verdant day
and warm where cold was belated,
then tarry with a lush and capable stay
just as salvation created.

Listen

I’ve spent the week listening to songs
and paying tribute to old movie stars.
Ol’ Gator and the Crewe are gone,
the coffee pot is growling on.

The songs I heard are old and true,
yet still they sound like yesterday.
I send them out from me to you.
The coffee pot is growling on.

Ol’ Gator fought the crooked law
and justice served the Crewe at last.
Even bandits fight against their flaws.
The coffee pot goes growling on.

What could happen, which is worse?
Posed a voice I recognize.
Are our leaders so accursed?
the coffee pot goes growling on.

Where did all our heroes go?
I ask aloud – inside my head.
The lonely people – they all know
the coffee pot’s still droning on.

Songs and stories will often tell
us who we are to be:
Poet, lover, bootlegger rebel.
The growling pot has stopped, it’s done.

Break

Here waiting for the sunrise while I dwell in morning’s dim –
my harboring of hope is ill and sweating in its sin.

Watching for the light to catch the interim it steals,
moments pass – I’ll blink. I’ll miss it – other ones appeal.

Green is grey in darkness, with no blue above unrolled
just before the sun ascends, brandishing its hold.

Growing splendor on the mete, just above the line –
Beauty oft arises from the edge and redefines.

Naked time and space fill with the life-affirming glow,
just as love embarked and plunged into the dark fallow.

And as I sit in warmth and contemplate what hope will bring,
greens emerge, blue unrolls over every living thing.

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