vilify

a hot damp wind blows
vengeful mosquitos
dive bomb
in vicious formation
while gentler lightning bugs
float in luminescent harmony
fragments of sky
reflect in the dirty sheen
on the pavement
and vilify
the moon's reflection
in greasy puddles
as steam rises
from the baked earth
the passing shower
not enough
to have driven off the bugs
or the heat
but like bent glass
refract and distort it

grandiloquence

nervous and bashful,
i tend to blather,
i ramble
rambunctiously
with nary a breath,
i do my best to be heard,
it's not affectation
or arrogance
that makes me
bombastically
barrel along,
grandiloquence
my watchword,
filling up the void
with orotundity,
my words
as semaphore,
frantically waving giant flags
from their imagined arms,
but merely
a desire
for commiseration
and community,
likemindedness,
and similar,
and so
my eyes dart
from listener to listener
in a relay race
for recognition
and my mouth
runs
a circumloquacious obstacle course,
and i hope
desperately
that i am not
seen as pompous
but am
accepted
well enough
that i can pause











before
my mouth
runs
away from me
again

indomitable

fierce and capable
joyful, serene
she stalks the world
like the most regal queen
indomitable of spirit
and whimsically free
she knows in herself
how simply to be
head held high
and chin jutted out
she need only whisper
she never need shout
she radiates power
she emanates poise
her worth is her own
not granted by boys
I look in the mirror
and hope her to find
staring right back
so lovely, refined
I catch only glimpses
but I know she's there
a warrior princess
fiery and fair

pachyderm

she carries her own trunk of baggage,
an elephant, she'll never forget.
betrayal caused her to pack it in,
that pachyderm you'll always regret.

she would have been loyal forever
and led you cross deserts to green,
to flood plains where you could recover
in water and pastures serene.

the Okavango Delta calls to her
and for months she'd have led you along
to a magical mystical wetland
where finally you'd seem to belong.

but instead you went and you ruined it,
so now, you'll have to find your own way,
you made your own desert, now lie in it -
trudging alone day after day after day.



 

yaw

somewhere along the way
I skipped and yawed
careening wildly

devious deviation 
hampered 

by unknowns

do I dare

and if I do

what derring-do

do I do

continue on or
cut and run
set on course
give up an 

unknown destination
I presumed 

I thought 

I wanted
for another 

unknowable 

how far down the track 

makes turning back 

untenable 

what is lost 

and what gained 

and in the end

will it

or I

have mattered 

Abulia

I dithered

and dallied

and dawdled

and dwindled

patience perforce.

It wasn't a choice

not making a choice. 

And I know you'd rejoice

if I'd uttered full voice
a definitive 

yes

or

no,

but I couldn't and so

the abundance of abulia 

justly annoyed. 

You thought that

I toyed,
when I tried to avoid
a result.
And as a result
it's now all my fault
that you left,
but though I didn't say yes,
I did not say no
but still you would go...
and though I understand why
it still makes me sigh...
so, belatedly,
here's my goodbye.

dubious

In darkness he skulks 

A shadow in a doorway 

A pulp novel parody

Of third rate detective 

And he watches the window 

Hoping to feel foolish 

Instead of betrayed 

Dubious of her loyalty 

Yet dazzled by her 

Our Phillip Marlow in the making 

Waits

Umbra

Larger than life

and brighter than the sun

You throw all else into shadow 

A supernova 

Exploding and burning 

Destroying in a blaze

I lived in the glare of you

Until I left for relief 

The umbra of another 

Protecting me in 

their cool shade

meticulous

you weigh and measure
each little thing
with meticulous care
if i do this, can i do that
if i have this, can i have that
and inch by inch you close the gap
the gaping maw of debt
threatening to rend you
a Sisyphean stone
accrued foolishly in youth and
treacherously in toil
bit by bit, accumulating 
this
dragged and pushed and shoved
uphill
and suddenly,
emergency!
the jaws snap shut
the boulder escapes your grip
and all the scrimping and saving
just for repaying
seems for nought
as in one moment
the chasm reopens
a miserable fissure
beneath you
ready to swallow you whole

octothorpe

Well aren't we the fancy ones

we might as well wear stoles
and elbow length gloves
and smoke from long gold holders
in top hats and tails

we are the bon vivants
we are Waugh's Bright Young Things
writ new

we flit and flutter
social media butterflys
flying by
with
twaddle on twitter
that makes us
giggle and titter

on the search
for the next best thing

we voraciously consume
wanting the shinies
the sparklies
the tinselly tinkly twinkly things

all for ourselves

and once
the tinkly twinklies
trickle down
we drop them

apart from the proles
and the trolls
is how we roll

and we publish
our findings/our failings/our futures
with brevity and emoji and an octothorpe
and think
Oscar Wilde
has got nothing on us
#LOL :)

truculent

under violent clouds

I stomp and rage

each step percussion 

to my inner soundtrack

a deafening thud thud thud

of heart racing

and bellowing 

and pounding 

sky above darkening

without matching within

and truculent I long

for the thunder

booming and bruising

the plummeting crash

explosions rending the heavens 

as I would the world 

and sans umbrella 

I will the rains to come

longanimity

a darkened room
soft breathing beside her
and she stares

                                            a fixed point

willing herself to sleep
        so weary
                                  but so restless
trying not to jostle
but wanting to
crawl
out of her skin

focusing on a dot on the ceiling
reviewing:
her day/
her month/
her year/
her life

embarrassed by:
    her own longanimity in her thankless job
    for her faceless corporate overlords
    slaving away for little pay
         ridiculously thinking
              effort and innovation
                   will be rewarded
                        instead of ignored
                            or pilfered
     years of sending resumes
                  cover letters galore
                               interviews even
     and always
        in the end
           it turns out
               there is no escape
                   from this rut
                       her wheels spin
                                                       her mind spins out
embarrassed by:
     her body
          which betrays her
                  feeling so heavy that each step exhausts
                      though she knows when she exercises
                         she sleeps
                             and so, ends up less exhausted
                                  but overwhelmed by the effort of beginning again
embarrassed by:
      her mind
           clever enough in its own way
                but to what end
                     it only serves to make her
                                  aware of her poor choices
                                  aware of her failures
                                  aware of her peers' success
                                  aware of all the should haves and could haves
                                              and didn'ts and couldn'ts
                     
embarrassed by:
      her hope
         her optimism
            her joy
               all of which have fled in the face of this abyss
                    this black hole of a dot on the ceiling
                        sucking
                           sucking
                              sucking all but cynicism
                                
and she stares

a fixed point

and the soft breathing beside her
mocks

rue

a life lived without regret
i don't know how that's done
there's things i rue most every day
words left unsaid, songs left unsung
good deeds postponed, anger let rise,
a snarky tone, hasty replies

it's hard to know sometimes
the thing that's true and right
and what i feel at break of day
i may not feel that night
and though my crimes are never large
quite oft my guilt exceeds the charge

but lest you think i wallow here
my comfort lies in knowing this
i do my best to make things right
and others' plights not to dismiss
in empathy is solace found
for there we all have common ground

neophyte

those some that brag and boast
that claim expertise
that flash and sizzle
sputter out
and interest me not
those others that keep their
heads down
and plow ever onward
stolid and stern
achieving but not enjoying
offer up a grim pride
but can neither hold me
those too demanding
those that simper
those that snivel
those that whimper
no, no, no, no
no thank you, very much indeed
but those with whimsy
those who see the world
for what it is
and still can laugh
who know we are
all neophytes
ever young, ever learning
ever striving, ever yearning
give me those people
if you please
and we shall make a merry band
and sing the world
together

superannuated

the superannuated soldiers
gather
arrive from afar
to farewell their
superannuated transport
replaced
with a newer model
with all the bells and whistles
to do what theirs had done
for 40 years
and still could do

I wonder
at all spent
on R&D -
B
I
L
L
I
O
N
$
and why
not
on R&R
for these
veterans
who having fought
now must fight
for hundreds
for bad arms
for bum legs
for busted minds

I wonder
and I wonder
who else wonders
and where
the priorities lie
and why

weasel word

with honeyed tongue
the whisper
of not-so-sweet nothings
wafts across
like the scent
toast burnt
in a neighboring room
scraped and buttered
and laid out on breakfast plates
weasel words
hiding ultimatum &
couched agendas
and you wonder why
you never noticed
before
but hunger overtook
and so you ate
the charcoal bread
and honey masked
the ashen taste
what was proffered
gluttonously devoured
in spite of its failings
despite a full larder
in hopes of not offending
a rotten cook

innocuous

a million little words
no
such a miniscule word
to break such large things

a million minor pauses
sighs and hmms and maybes
moments of air
filled with uncertainty

a million tiny decisions
this, not that
later, not now
seemingly innocuous
in and of themselves
but cumulatively
poison

a million itsy-bitsy aches
a million infinitesimal pangs
a million slights and sores

and millions
and millions
and millions more

I become a tycoon 

duffer

the men sit around
the clubhouse
still the same
little boys with
ridiculous costumes and
a scrawled sign
"no girrlls allowed"
duffers in plaid
escaping their homes
by calling mulligans
and drinking a pint

estival

my lovely
my darling
my sweet
I could not
and will not
ask for more
than this
our grand adventures
of sunshine joy
wherein
as the heat rises
off the city pavement
each day better
than the last
this hyperbolic joy
described in superlative
awesome
amazing
astounding
(and that's just the As)
as days the grow longer
so grows stronger
this thing between us
our estival festival -
quite simply
and in laymen's terms:
best.
summer.
ever.

majuscule

olden pages
so august with
texture, complexity, delicacy
script so fine and intricate
the majuscules declaring anew
the chapters in letters fantastical

I weep at their beauty
imagining cloaked figures
hunched intently
in cold scriptorium

the wielded pen
alit with candle
and fire within
propelled by the majesty
of cryptographic knowledge

and I across a sea of time
can only wonder
at their craft
and weep for their demise

while still rejoicing
that their day is gone
and that what was arcane
and recondite
is known to me
as fundumental

foist

like leaden weights
round my limbs
i carry with me
all your sins
foist upon me
most unwilling
i'm crying over
milk still spilling
your burden lightened
but mine it trebles
it rubs and blisters
shoes filled with pebbles
i chafe with knowledge
undesired
i hate the heaviness
i've acquired
but scared am I
to drop the load
the leave this path
go off the road
so warily
I plow ahead
envying the
quiet dead

jaundiced

with bitter taste
and jaundiced eye
the perpetrator
plans his lie
the story plays
the plot, it thickens
the murder
something out of Dickens
the policeman
takes the measure
of every townsperson
at his leisure
and by the time
the baddy is caught
at least two more murders
he has wrought
detective shows
are my addiction
and I'm glad they are
just works of fiction
otherwise who
would survive
the way those murderers
can connive
in Cabot Cove
or in Midsommer
the murder rate is
quite the bummer

garderobe

Like a medieval lady
hiding in the garderobe
from marauders,
so she hides -
searching desperately
for a blessed moment
of peace
in which to pee
sans pets' whimper,
sans hubby planning,
sans phone dinging needily,
sans sweet little hands grasping,
sans everything save
her thoughts and the tinkle
of droplets on porcelain.


 

temerity

courage
or foolhardiness
in the extreme
to open one's heart
with aplomb
to another?
it takes temerity
for one never knows
with absolute certainty
the outcome,
but only the certainty
that not doing
is lesser
and the hope
that the bold
are in fact
fortune-favoured.

hoosegow

a night of drunken revelry
a car filled
with mild-mannered hooligans
high as hell from
youthful trangressions
and youthful exuberance
rebels of rabble-rousers
raising the roof
of my ancient Caddy
and I,
on dreaded designated driver duty,
was convinced that their
hootin' and a'hollerin'
was gonna end with us all
going to the hoosegow
as we coasted
down the hill
past the police station
through a red light
my breaks giving out
despite feverish pumping
at 4 in the morning
on an autumn day
so long ago
it could have been a dream

categorical

information overload
news cycle bombardment
we need the feed
like a junkie needs smack
it overwhelms
and disarms
and lends false power
but lacks context
the screen divided
by partisan foes
shouting non sequiturs
and in this garbled jargon
we are meant
to become literate
to discern the world
and learn our place in it
see the world in fragments
through bitter dialectics
as told by shills and hucksters
with hatred and fear
toting agendas aplenty
and yet
in the hubbub and hullabaloo
where little rings as true
this remains categorical
love gives the better view

bunkum

in a fortress made of pillows
in a patois made for two
we jest and joke and josh
and whisper tendernesses
in silly accents
with screwball faces
whiling away the tick of time
in blarney and bunkum and blather
and by giggles and gaffaws
joyfully turn tomorrows into yesterdays

stringent

Manners are our friends
Guiding us faithfully
In a world of mass confusion
And odd complexity.
But, if we stringently adhere
To our own detriment;
We can cut off any feeling
And kill all sentiment.
So say your "please and thank yous"
And let kindness win the day,
But tell the wankers "Go to hell"
When there is no other way.
For manners are a guideline
And should always be used first,
But some people don't deserve them
For some people are the worst.

interpellate

to be certain
to be sure
we pour over policy
interpellate authority
looking for loopholes
we
research
write
review
revise
each letter
dash
and dot
those I's
cross those T's
and plan
and plan
and plan again
all this we do
to be certain
but silly us
no certainty
in life
is found
and so instead
we must embrace
this lucky dip
this steeplechase
we run and race
and jump and fall
get up again
and though it all
we never know
when it will end
so hold my hand
as we run along
or stroll
or amble...it matters not
this race will not be won
but together
we may enjoy the greens
and help each other
over and around the obstacles
or stop and have a picnic
for finishing first
is no desirable distinction

apprehension

like a shadow distorted
stretched and contorted,
a creaking squeaking
floorboard followed
by a muffled thud,
the wailing whistles
of wind in the cracks
of broken down clapboards
and their thwap as they slap against
chipped and dingy peeling siding -
like every ominous overtone,
every melodramatic shriek,
every swell of sinister score -
all of it -
every horror movie indicator
of imminent disaster -
like all of these
is the apprehension
in his eyes
as she pauses
and looks away.

precarious

Alone,
I felt
like a chick
in an eyrie;
safe in my
precarious prison perch
balanced on high
save for the solitude
eroding me inside
but then
you flew to me
landed beside
and showed me
I had wings, too,
on which I could
soar
alongside you
if only
I would let go
and leap.