soi-disant

I find myself amazed and dazed
(not by the world spinning)
but by the grandly grandiose
who claim hyperbole so oft
that those not bamboozled
are beaten down and beggared by
the braggadocio of soi-disant saviors
who value shiny over shinola,
who whine and call it winning,
and the margin for error is thinning,
I fear, before we find that
the bull in the china shop is
too bankrupt to buy what he broke.

interstice

coy anticipation
that measures time
just so...

no aeon
longer than
the interstice
between thumb's
tentative tap

and

...dots

appearing

as if to mock
the waiting
sojourn of seconds
stretching interminable
between now
and sent

coalesce

nightmare continues
struggle against sheets
that writhe like snakes
constrain and constrict
as terrors coalesce
into consensus
and rise up in waves
to wash away
the world we made
the waters break
and recede, so see
the garish face
was not a mask
but gaping clown
giving chase
and eyes opening
cannot erase
the sense of horror
at metaphor's grace

emissary

outside the window the bird begins her chirping
chest puffed with pride, loud emissary of the dawn
inside the cat begins her morning machinations
I stir to the sound of last night's leavings
keys and earrings from nightstand to floor
as my feline alarm clock rings out the time
half an hour before the ding of an actual chime
groggy and half lidded I rise and shoe the cat
out the door...if I feed her now
she'll only want more and earlier tomorrow, too
so door shut I crawl back in to bed
and will myself to sleep one tiny bit longer
before the light grows stronger
and the mewling louder, louder, louder...
as if she doesn't know she'll be fed before I shower

accoutrement

doll yourself up
in accoutrement for war
lipstick, blush
add a little more
hair let loose
inhibitions let fly
cleavage revealed
and heels rather high
a drink for courage
a second to steady
you wait at the bar
deep breath
and you're ready

burgle

on pitter pat paws
they crept in like
the proverbial fog
so soft and sweet
you never heard
the tread of feet
or snick and click
of lock and pick
as if a trick
this crew of one
or maybe two
will burgle you
so surreptitiously
that were it your heart
they stole
until deed
long past done
you never knew

picaresque

Less subtle than a frigate bird
with throat inflated,
he warbles pick-up lines
and imagines himself
the hero of a tale picaresque.
A charming Casanova
instead of degenerate inebriate;
aging Lothario full of
all the bluster he can muster
as he tomcats around
to stop his weeping sighs.
Seeking comfort in quantity -
revenge against a ghost of a girl
who pays his antics no mind,
as he has paid no mind
to those he left behind.
Now, reaping what he's sown
by inflicting pain to hide his own,
the broken man goes home alone.

opine

some days are hard so there's whine
and there's wine and I would opine
that friends with whom to former
while drinking the latter make sweeter
the grapes that were grown on the vine
in ways that words could never define
as we air all our woes about
dating a swine or wanting to resign
as blame we assign or we stiffen our spine
in this way, our friendship is tied up with twine
yes, a glass and friend.... the pairing is truly divine

flagrant

the bill that came in the mail today
quickly took all my savings away
just one doctor's visit all it took
my well being lost, my faith quite shook
not even for a specialist's care
general practitioner in a clinic here
the charge of thousands quite unfair
for an ekg and removal of wax from ear
robbed and ruined without a choice
screaming mad without a voice
the system's broke and no denying
eighteen hundred dollars
for one new patient visit
is flagrant theft and it's left me crying

nobby

keeping up
appearances
nobby facade
hides decay within
the rotten walls
the empty halls
mold, mildew,
worms and vermin
the only life
this house now hosts
except for ghosts

hebetude

in cups

he sinks into

the hebetude of

the drunken one inert

and stares into nothingness

as a heavy load upon him

and mutters injustice

ignoring the fact

that he made

the weight

himself

depredate

a world gone
in a fit of pique
that you would
say such things
and depredate
all that came before
and still would
try for more
and make it all
about yourself
apologize without
repentance assured in
forgiveness unearned
claiming wisdom
but it's me who learned

alleviate

relentless gray
across the sky
the sun has hid
her fulsome face
and I likewise
indulge in grace
of cloud blanket comfort
to rest my weary soul abed
alleviate week's worries
in a pillow and a cat asleep
upon my inert legs
to wake refreshed
for coming days
to battle on
in sunshine rays
of hope and cheer
of light to come
of better days
when this day done

waif

an oxymoron
a figment
the phantom of
a wild and willowy waif
lost yet self possessed
who requires rescue
but will save you
in return
meek yet mighty
and what defense
have I against
such nonsense
but to carry on
the pretense
of the manic
pixie dream
to seem
to be the thing
else alone remain

oppugn

whatever small sense of peace
cultivated by the conviction
that the world is not dictated
by the basest of our bunch
destroyed by the crunching
sound of the rage monster rising
and munching on the bones of our best
jaws agape to engulf the rest
and we protest but the claws
rend that notion into pieces
and we're exhausted trying to oppugn
the remorseless beast that would feast on us
yet still we must not cease to fight
against the "alt" to defend what is right

perfunctory

knocked back aghast
we perform our tasks in manner perfunctory
awaiting ascendancy or armageddon
we flip and fly, aloft in the sky
as the clock winds down
and the clowns
honk their horns and o'ertake the circus
set loose the animals from their cages
destroying with seltzer and paint the stages
so we watch a carnage commence
commanded by sense to stay above it
but there is no escape
from the roars or trumpets
and we'll swing in the breeze
by noose or trapeze

lamster

some days
I want to run
pack a bag
hop a train
flee and fly
with a wish
and a will
just go away
a lamster ducking
the doldrums
of the every day
the tedium of
the expected
eschew
and in so doing
reinvent myself
anew

bifurcate

Love the heart bifurcates,
each room halved
then halved again.
So four chambers made
and within reside Love's seasons.
Spring's anticipation
exponential
green and greedy
to grow into
hunger's declaration of
Summer's languid passion;
sticky and sweet,
dripping in the heat
until Autumn mellows
and makes harvest
or awaits Love's fall from grace
that ripe but unreaped may rot...
forgetful but not forgot
by Winter - that crisp and steadfast
sparkles implacable as diamond,
frozen and frigid until the thaw. 
That Spring may come again.

vermicular

lonely she stalks
the maze of statuary
fingers caressing
the faces of stone
her vermicular hair
writhing like ringlets
dancing in wind
she walks ever alone

temporize

love's indulgence

temptation to temporize

master builder 

of aerial architecture 

whole cities 

rendered from hope

and anticipation 

pandemonium

cranky toddlers
in temper tantrum tempo
trying to outscream the other
as they smash the lincoln log
lego lands on which we live
our weeble-wobble lives
they'd make a pandemonium
of the playpen with no care
no one taught them how to love
no one taught them how to share

élan

the thing she noticed first was his feet
or more precisely, brightly patterned socks
knit with whimsical guitars;
and when their eyes did meet
across a crowded car of subway strangers
through sacks and satchels
with élan his face alit.
and she thought "maybe, this is it."
and when he rose at her same stop
her stomach did a little flop.
he followed her right up the stairs
as if they made a smiling pair
but then he turned,
the other stairwell toward...
another train for him to board.
oh, her little love had found its end.
her little story told to fend off
the particular loneliness only found
in the city, where anonymity
made by the thronging crowd
vibrant, brash, and loud
both empowers or belittles
based on as little as a mood
in which to revel or to brood.

garble

for all the fine words
I've ever writ
my mouth
full of marbles
when I open it
to garble out
my sentiment
and I may
sound like a twit
the words
twist and buckle
like metal under strain
my meaning melts
like sugar in the rain
and you'll never
fully understand
either
my love
or my pain

immense

gratitude for small kindnesses bestowed
grows like a dry sponge held under the tap
until my heart swells to bursting
and overflows through my eyes
in tears not of sadness
but in gramercy and grace
with a little melancholy mixt
for the time and the place
whisper "what if"
a midnight kiss unanswered
for fear it was given
in somnolent confusion
and that its return
would be an intrusion
or considered the product
of a wanton delusion
mind confounded compounded
with compassion
conferring such emotion
immense and overwhelming
abundance marking
in stark contrast all that preceded

schadenfreude

some days
filled with delays
or painted in myriad greys
when you long for the peace of a simple malaise
when anger and frustration and heartbreak leave you in a daze
all you can think
as you long for a drink
is this in an endless refrain:
I hope someone I wronged or annoyed
is experiencing schadenfreude
so at least there's some joy from my pain

cthonic

nightmares into waking hours seep

the heavens painted in blood and black

against my better judgement I leap

into the cthonic, ink stained day

pools of broken sky at my feet

and the patter on my fabric shelter

belts a steady beat at pace 

with breaking heart and 

breaking heat to cool

the sticky stifle of a rancid day

regimen

try to enjoy the thing

for what it is 

and not regret the things 

it's not 

a monkey wrench 

in my regimen 

revealing the spaces

yet to be fixed

but not the tool

required to repair 

manumit

turn back the clock 

they say as if that's a good thing 

deriding progress as deviant 

disregarding evolution 

in the foment of revolution 

as if we all could be put back 

in the boxes they have made

they do not recognize 

that they make the world a cage

and by their small minds

both enslaving and enslaved

they denigrate those of us

who do not fit

and silence those who would 

the rest of us manumit 

splenetic

false frontage in odd reverse
using folksy fanfare to fan the fears
of those living in arrears
wolfing down the common food
(off plates of gold) still it's construed
that of people, by the people made
this inevitable embodiment of a time?
a splenetic red-faced raver
spitting out bile by the sound bite
140 characters to show his true character
petulant and privileged and presiding above
pretending it's the common man that he loves
while denigrating The People's House
and calling it a "dump"
making of that common man a chump
and that rhymes with...
and that rhymes with..
yes, that rhymes with...

arbitrary

embrace the chaos
dance in the rain
for the vagaries of fate
so oft seem arbitrary
don't dither over this or that
or fret about the scenic path
when still it's the thing
you never thought
that makes the net
in which you're caught
we cannot plan for disarray
and therein lies our dismay
so...
let go the compulsion
to discover correlation
or causation and accept
that joy never really
has an explanation
just revel in the sensation

diminution

at the end of things
she learned
how little it took
not even a word
just a look
and the diminution
of her esteem began
in the dissolution
from an "us" to a "they"
and she begins again
reminding herself
Rome wasn't built in a day