Lackluster

You will know
                           by the light
and somehow     confidence flickers...

They all said This-let the light
guide you
Briskly.

It is just
when the winds pick-up
and the leaves begin to dance
                                       a show
of envy-
in longing for the limelight
Strewn
and Plain.
Watch and listen,
                            while the scenery changes.
Tears beget laughter-
                                  save your breath,
you will need to hold it
                                   yourself.
Without a word-

Do not seek
just go.

It is near.




Painting by Shigeru Aoki (青木繁) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Looking up (Haiku)

I had known flowers

intimately before now

noticing the trees

Painting by Bertha Wegmann [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Penumbra

shafts of shadow shrink
silhouetted slants shut
downward dimming,
the greedy gleam absorbs
its shade overbearing obfuscation
mimicking migraines on maps...
veins strained, pupils peel back
in drumming dilation-
the ground groans
under the wait
of light.




Painting By George Elbert Burr (Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art) [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Twenty-six characters

Have I repeated myself?
            Yes, to excess.
If it is any consolation,
that too
            has been done.
And if this were a real poem-
            it would be a brush painted kanji-
symbolically inexplicable
            by its symbiotic smooth strokes.
It is flow.

So seriously, let us not pretend
            emphasis-a stress-is an echo-as an anaphora
Although,
            the lines look the same,
they are not along the same lines
bound by words
imitating poetry
that is never new-
but you knew This
I have painted it before.



Image from decalrocket.com

Rage is rabid

Rage is the creature with fangs
that cannot conceal those points
And snarls soft lips to show
not all poetry is Pleasant-but Passionate

And acute or cuspidate,
sparks spit fire from its place
that abstains mutation,
that ignites others-enflamed.

Insolence-I've heard its
verbal lashings, intentional trashing-
yet always with a lisp
as a magnanimous sycophant.



1st Pub.d 9/2/16.

Painting by Edvard Munch, Vampire, 1895 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

No Vacancy

I can no longer afford to submit-
this is why I Quit.
Does that mean I've given up?
I could not stop if I tried-
ok, I lied...
You see, these fees have broken
my wishbone.
I suppose I could try to borrow-
until tomorrow,
but I'd still be short the change
in dignity
Please do no take pity, I plead-
I have none left...
So, I have forsaken all
charitable contributions to self
I am finished offering solutions
of contentment
and reason-
there are more than enough
poetic substitutions and literary institutions
with closed doors to open minds and empty pockets-
except(ing) donations.



1st Pub.d 9/2/16.

Painting by By Anna Lea Merritt (1844‑1930) (Art Renewal Center) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

The Joy of Aging

Bubbles should be saved

for old age

after we have learned about 

Physics and seen many 

circles in life

when we have learned 

what Hope tends to do

when it hits matter

It would be something

to look up to.

Image By Brocken Inaglory (Own work Transferred from en.wikipedia) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.