It's like stepping up to a golf ball. A white glove grips my left hand and an 8 iron dangles in my right. I slowly screw my tee into the moist ground. I place the white ball upon it. I think of the possibilities of what could go wrong when I strike the ball. I aim. I breathe. I think: back straight, arm straight, mind straight. I exhale. I swing. Then watch and wait, like hearing that sharp drone and waiting for the flat line to waver so I don't have to say, "I'm sorry, but there were complications."
Started back in '78
we took a pledge and set our fate
to sink this deepest then of mines
to intense dark and cold confines
Introvert or man of song
we dug together dark and long
the universal brotherhood
beneath the earth so understood
To qualify to join us there
just a proud heart for you to wear
upon your sleeve let it remain
no doubts or worries entertain
we fuelled the fires of the world
with tons and train-loads hard and hurled
closed '91 pride of our nation
the stoutest pit Deep Navigation
You can push down on your femoral artery with your thumb
long enough to stay alive till some help comes
one bright flash
shell splinter crash
thigh opens up like it has a zipper
don't quail tell yourself the tears are just the rain
rubber ball heart punctured by a dogs tooth
you can push down on your femoral artery
long enough to cry for your Mum
Quailing under the flashes of lightening
As the sky is splintered
I run through the rain
Wearing my zippered bright yellow rubber boots
And my vinyl rain shell.
Rainwater splashing high and me
Giggling with delight.
For Charmingly Fun.
This aviator alone in his cabin
traveling back through time then.
Riding a zephyr to Venus
Contemplating his genus.
Glancing sideways at his bottle
He pulls back on the throttle.
Spaghetti-like wisps of mist
Blurring vision during the shift.
From space flight to ozone light
Coming in for a landing! Hold Tight!
For Charmingly Fun
This poem will rock, with a Demon and shit!
Sinful hellfire, and brimstone, that's it..
a pitchfork up the ass of rock
so what they'll think I am a cock
A slammin' crashing rage of metal
speedo in the red
stamp that pedal
turn up the fire
turn on the heat
hmm..... my tummy is empty
Mum, what's there to eat........?
Mitochondria generating the necessary energy
to graze my fingertips across your zygomatic arch.
Feeling your breath quicken to almost hyperventilation
as desire fills your eyes. Blood pounding through your heart
containing red cells, white cells, fibrin, plasma, life-giving oxygen.
I brush hair behind your ear and feel a quadrigeminal leap
in the need to hold you close.
For Charming and Fun.
The sensuous pressure of a diamond necklace
Being slipped around her neck sent tremors down her spine.
The finest jewels gracing the lovely piece
with the brightest clarity and sparkle.
Simplicity itself shining forth,
glowing from body heated precious metal.
Looking up into his eyes she sees the consternation there
as he realizes that she outshines even this in his eyes.
Charming Fun and Fanciful.
During my second trimester I felt like getting some fresh air.
I went out cycling through town in the warm sunny day.
Observing the comings and goings of people all around.
The flower cart on the corner, lent a lovely lilac scent to the air.
The street preacher was shouting out his testimonials,
trying to recruit believers to his cause.
Further on as my pedaling took me, I saw a group of boys.
They were pantomiming their favorite rockstars.
Strumming the air for all they were worth and
Jamming to the silent music in their heads.
Down the block past the Bakery, smelling of cinnamon buns,
was the museum. My favorite place to stroll on a quiet day.
The gregarious doorman always wished me "A fine day, Madam!",
as he ushered me into the foyer. He always wore that silly hat that makes me smile.
And, of course, he kept an eye on my red bicycle by the door.
Making my way through the corridors, observing the sculptures, paintings and artifacts.
Wondering at the archaeologists dinosaur finds, mounted above and behind the glass.
Finally, on to see Pandora and her ill-fated decision to open the box.
Letting forth into the world all manner of toxicity. And then, again, opening the box
she set Hope free so we could cope in this danger-laden world.
Ending my museum tour, I contemplated my coming child
and what he would find to make him cry or hope or love
in this world, as I slowly pedaled through the spring infused day.
Pantomime. Bicycle. Museum. Trimester.
Pandora. Gregarious. Toxicity.
Every dog I know
is honest too the core.
They work harder at pleasing
their humans than we do caring for them.
They love deeper
and show it with their beautiful soulful eyes.
And when peering over the edge of the bed,
they laugh at us having sex.
They fish for hugs and kisses,
and are patient beyond endurance.
They jump and leap,
and race for the door to take us on our walks.
They beg for treats,
do some tricks and beg for more.
They wash our faces,
and wag their tails to tell us how they love us.
There is nothing better than a canine friend.
to make our lives worthwhile.
Charming Fun and Fanciful.