exegesis

'gainst echoing hollow
of future impending
and today's
tiresome travails
mantra-like murmur
that this, this must be
but the exegesis
of conquest to come
our backstory scaffold
to pride's pinnacle

tenebrous

move tentatively
into the tenebrous hall
hands outstretched
and ear straining
for echoes to lead me
as my eye makes
no distinctions
in this fog of failed dream

validate

the world hard to navigate
especially if we seek
to validate our self
outside our self
but hard not to see
others on an easier path
and wonder "why not me"

ad hoc

if there were
a matter
i could pursue
unto the nth degree
an ad hoc committee
i'd convene
to study why
you aren't
with me

caravansary

life's journey
on winding roads
from expectation
to unexpected destination
with break downs and break ups
and detours and make ups
with pit stops in places
we never had dreamed
scenic lookouts discovered
over vistas serene
stays at caravansaries
diverse yet the same
before we drive on
in the sun, snow or rain

meld

when we met
i thought we'd meld
but you are acid

and i melt
corroded by
the chemical you


 ___________________________________________
had a little micropoetry form fun today with stanzas of
3 syllables, 4 syllables, 5 syllables
3 syllables, 4 syllables, 5 syllables

also if you type the word syllables enough it looks really odd

plangent

you think you can dismiss them

for you forget that you yourself once were one

you think distraction or exhaustion will fell them

for you forget that you yourself once were one

and you forget

their fight not fueled 

by petulance and pettiness

as your fight seems to be

and you forget

that youthful vigor's expanse 

is here fed by righteous anger 

against the corruption 

and cruelty and cowardice

of those who run from justice

for those who ran from bullets

you forget

to fear the plangent howl 

of grief and rage

you who dare not cede the stage 

to indignant, guiltless grace

you who've lost your integrity

as you gained your age

and are too frightened 

to stare truth in the face 

you forget the courage it takes 

to stand up and make their case

you forget the power 

of conviction that they embrace

for you forget

that after you are gone

those children will still be running the race

they will be the ones to take your place 

and they will reshape the world 

out of this tragedy and disgrace

do not think you can dismiss them

do not forget that you yourself once were one

though never one like them

demarcate

the dilemma remains
how to explain
my essence
in a sense
in such a way
both familiar and new
for them to click through
the diamond in rough
just different enough
to demarcate from
the next swipe
by the words i type
or the books i like
my style or hair
to have the air
you don't care
but you care
else why would
any of us be here

refection

a life aged out of
and most days merrily
but occasionally
I ache for the wooden table
above terrazzo floor
cat curled on a chair
doberman at the door
brother in the family room
mother in the den
pops and I playing cards
at that table in the kitchen
this was my refection
and spirit that was
so renewed
by family and home
now peace must find
in memory imbued
now nostalgia
I imbibe
then phone calls make
and thus revive

sanguine

the weight of tragedy
daily arrives
by fright load
by freight load
some days
we wake to weep
from morn to sleep
some days
we close our eyes
afraid to rise
some days
we wonder why
we'd even try
but still abides
our sanguine side
that sees the point
the morning lark to sing
with changes yet to bring
as alarm bell rings
and bids us up
to cheerful fight
encroaching dark
with inner light

panegyric

Three years gone by and every day I write.
I set my fingers typing out the word
the dictionary sets me to spotlight
in verse precise or in meter absurd.

A silly task that I myself have set
and I thought no one but myself to please
in scribbling out each ode, verse, or sonnet
I had none but myself here to appease.

And yet, somehow, some readers have I found
who periodic scan this poet's rhyme
and that you do makes my heartbeat resound
that you have given me some of your time.

No panegyric great enough to say
how grateful I am for you all each day.

biddable

she chafes against
the strictures set
by past and patriarchy
as biddable
as a feral cat
as fierce and fickle
in affection too
wild and wondrous
and full of fight
changing from
the girl that was
to the woman
she'll become

yuppify

idols of our youth
shilling for the man
sell out and yuppify
grow up and get theirs
go along to get along
that's just the way it goes
so the next generation
never knows the rebel
just the pose

nebbish

look beyond the picture
the world would make
look beyond the surface view
find the warrior in the weakling
the paladin hidden in the nebbish
seek out the champion in you
you are not what the mirror says
or the magazines or news
we all have strength and courage
if dusty from lack of use
we all can be our best
with a little follow through
so reach down,
deep down, inside you
and with destiny rendezvous

frolic

love like an unmade bed
like the moment when
you're just about to sneeze
like a garbage bag full
of coffee grounds and hope
or a favorite shirt now
fraying at the sleeves
like the sigh of your partner
right before they snore
or the feeling as you frolic
on a bright and sunny shore
or the aching when
you hear the lock
their last time out the door
love that's like a pinpoint
love like an abyss
love's like everything there is
but I never knew
it was like this

nuts

gone the days
when in a craze
heart would swell
mind would reel
and all the feelings
would I feel
more measured now
less prone I think
to going nuts
to cry, to drink
my heart no longer
on my sleeve
I'm tougher, stronger
know when to leave
at least these things
I tell myself
growing dusty
on my shelf

adust

it stands on the shore
of an ocean of char
while you
throat adust &
skin smoldering
manage only
a muffled grunt
adrift on your skiff
in response to the
waving tentacle arm
beckoning you back
salutations from
time to come
the button-made mischance
of braggadocios bullies
and overzealous allies
eager to please
set your sails
on dystopian seas

recuse

Judgement withheld

by me against you.

From your future 

I must recuse myself &

God or fates or furies

shall decide 

your punishment 

and patiently 

I shall bide

to see 

if they agree 

with me. 

instauration

every time anew
the instauration
of expectation
created by
the sublimation
of a million forms
of cultural norms
and stubborn refusal
to admit the fact
that some pots
are lidless and
not all socks meet
or keep their match
from haste or waste
in time or taste
some stay sole souls
and so may you

mnemonic

his laidback way
hid ambition
hard not to admire
to become a chef
(which he did)
or king of a shampoo empire
twenty years gone
and still
i need no mnemonic to remember
the light in his mischievous eyes
his sayings both silly and wise
the crooked grin from ear to ear
the sly, dry jokes he held so dear
his easy way with one and all
drunk on life and alcohol

embargo

that city always in flux
sometimes I do disdain
but other times rejoice
for oft I find the change
lifts my embargo
on a street or park or neighborhood
replacing pain with either nothingness
or even something good
for instance
there where once
in restaurant now since closed
a date with one I would forget
and here a sidewalk
of first kisses
so altered
that remembrance and regret
haunt me no more
for mind no more connects the two
and in the disassociation
no pain born anew
because where once
a nail salon
now a shop for shoes
where once memory
by location forced on me
now my choice to choose

carp

city life in pendulum swing from exhilarating to frustrating
a day begun with metric tonne of flesh against in subway pressed
a backpack poking in your face, a smile simply out of place
someone leaning on the pole...the grumpy morning rigmarole
yet lest I carp on matters trivial and set my mood from such
the city also so convivial & in it there is much to heap one's praise upon
the history, the art, the music, the food, the people kind as well as rude
the mass transit (though oft vexatious) runs all night and is efficacious
for getting one from here to there in somewhat timely fashion
and the metropolis gives those elsewhere dismissed
the chance to pursue their passion, so surly sometime I may be
but always should remember that for all its faults and all of mine
as home for nigh on twenty years, there was really no other contender

logomachy

heaven knows,
i've sought
though yet to find
one who thrills in kind
to the battering of banter
the lilting of logomachy
the linguistic olympics
that fire my soul
but when i do
i reckon i might
just lose control

spavined

went explorin' through the woods
and came upon the saddest sight
I'd never seen a house, not house,
just some ole timbers
retaken by the trees
tilted so
not quite right
I went inside
scared, trepidatious
the floor, it bent
the boards all creaked
on the ground a threadbare rug
and what was left of roof just leaked
but sadder still that broke my heart
a battered bookshelf 'gainst the wall
the books all spavined, swole with damp
and mold was growing on them all

blench

hide underneath the hood
against the spitting sky
i blench from all the grey
consuming you and i

you into distance fade
a silhouette of blue
a memory of a shade
of one that i once knew

i retreat a little further
into my coat and self
our story done and written
just a book upon a shelf

in future days the rain
will remind me of this time
and i will pour over the pages
and lose myself in rhyme

but now the drizzle falling
and home again is calling

to lick my wounds and start again
with paper blank and a new pen

tucket

in darkened bar

she sits awaiting one 

she hopes

first glance will herald 

with tucket of a full brass band

rereads the same sentence

as eyes dart again to door

watching couple after couple arrive

until single man comes in 

and marches towards the bar 

before greeting group 

down the end 

and her butterflies

on rollercoaster roil within

her heart thunders louder

than atmospheric din

as she wonders when

when

when

divest

face upturned
tilting skyward
tree breathes
biting crisp breeze
divests her of layers
one by one until
before the sky
she stands
bark clad and bound
patience in purifying cold
raising her bare arms
in supplication to the sun
awaiting the golden thread
with which to weave
her summer gown

preternatural

could you
crack open a skull
like dropping an egg
and climb inside the goo
to know what they
would do
would you
burrow in like a beetle
and with mandibles chew
as if some way
that could imbue
you with their
sense or smarts
their talents or their arts
to give you
preternatural skill
instead of still
the clumsy clod
you could
metaphorically
barehanded bend
the iron rod
and single-bounded
tall buildings leap
if some way their power
to reap and keep
could you
would you