Are these egotistical?
My pride
Flopping about?

Or is
My fear

Flipping
Out

Yelping
Lines

Naught else
Squeals

Like a poet
Stuck


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I'm writing sideways
So I can use these lines
As a windscreen
From the blowback
From ratting
The universe out

I think we're a hernia
Erupted from some other place
A bent band
erupting in matter
of fact
I'm right

So there

Unsupposed
to be
we are

Do we live
on the friction's...
Are we...

Aye there's the rub




Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

I haven't
and the universe
explodes
with what
I haven't

I have
and the universe
implodes
to what
I have

unless
I've got that
backward

Poetry is
paying
this price

irony
of ache

constant
and held close

nursed
on

flowing
thru fingertips
to you

pount keys
you can't hear
ache

splendidly
and save me



Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

they all in jail
they all somewhere
filling my need
such satisfaction
at a demise
today, i read, village
stones gang member

you take the gun
and pretend
you're a gang member
I'll be a villager
you've preyed upon
and I'll hit you
with stones

We are so deeply prejudiced
when we Act
from fear





Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

You are never
just a poem away
from anything
even tho you think
this one will
do the trick

I am always leaving now
skittering in place
I am convinced
by my effort

that I am not
now anymore

a kid
closing his eyes
to not be seen

peeking out
**** now

skittering bolstered chemically
closed eyes
opened unseeing

now without me
unfound

i am only lessened
cursed now
remains unleft

Copyright @2018 Dennis Willis

3 poems to here
7 more to there?
where? where?

Trust me?
i'll see me
there?

Where
TF
is there?

I no longer
Don't
Stare

Discovered
this morning
that singing
is about the sound
out there
not in here

Not just
out there

Right there
out there

Put it there

Pointedly

Make there
the entry

note
its surroundings
when comfortable

as if I
pitch my
ear there

Listening further away
creates harmony


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Somewhere between the mountains and the rivers of today I fell out
Landed on my keister
As usual

Face up
Searching for Heavenly Creatures

That's just what happened

I want to get back to my surprise at having
mountains and rivers
in my day.

This is a new landscape
In my mind

Evoking peace

Thank you now I will have them tomorrow too



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Is there
a deeper Darkness
Or
Is there
a deeper Lightness
waiting?

Abscesses of our minds
not withstanding

What hole
thing
R u?

Wavering in the light
pixelated weak

R u carried
or do you stand?

Is there
an edge
to be had

Or is it
just an occupation
from which
to distract us

and see
tear filled acts
of confusion
celebrated

clearly we are
winning
our game
to be righteous

Which is
to lose
and somehow
win over time

Unerasable blues
and salt
seeds of continuous
self-doubt

Potato chips
to dark fasting
Crayons to an
iron radiator

Socks to a nebulae
clenched in birth
is a song
radiating

We are the deeper
folds
respected by fabric
aficionados

Creases in everything
shape themselves
on our tongues
in our emanations

We are the shore
climbing for awhile
to the land
then back to the sea

We are the circle
almost back
skip that illusion
lean into the swing

Break into another
beaker of stinking next
pour it on yourself
suffer early and often

this continuity
a lie in a lie
in a genre
you choose

for breakfast
crunchy
is how
you prefer





Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

There are
and I keep writing more
and you
whatever

Staying up late
watching
Channel has moved

This is a peaceful
story
about a unique
Stream of electrons
that have ventured
to parts unknown

Oh the angst
And anticipation

I don't know and
I worry
how it's going
for them

I wonder
if it doesn't work out
Will they come back
I can't
turn away

let me dance
this way and that
reach up
thumb the tip of my hat
to you

Want you to know
I've saved you from
several poor efforts
now languishing
in drafts
this one
just got away

Are living within darkness
fighting towards an always distant
light

Hunched over
under the weight
Struggling with being overwhelmed
It's too much

I am in this envelope of Darkness
because
I am certain
I have licked the glue myself

Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Here, in this silence,
of no one around
I address absence

Turn up the tv
have a drink
flip thru channels again

check on the dogs
change where I'm sitting
scroll thru the news

if you were here
would it be
any different

I've been alone
and alone
with others

Which desperation
wishing you were gone
wishing you were here

smashes me more
I don't know
sitting in smithereens

the Thursday's I couldn't
find myself pretense
has all but run

to single syllables
darting away from
the light as if
scalded  

all along and all
along you knew
didn't you
new again
instantaneous
instantiation
insta fren
listen 'gain
verbs reign

lift this part up
with your falling
fear of naught but
full enough
of listen

under look

The degree seems perfect
balanced
between inebriants
taunting joy and depth
with discoloration

Instants strung out
waiting for acceptance
I accept I accept this
reality's
smoking gun

and head for another
lens on alliteration
I am a sounding
a turgid probe
reaching

I wait for understanding
in semi-darkness
Babylon plays
in the background
sinking

Your internal organs
push on
relentless while
your explanations run
to catch up

Leaning back
in my chair
on elbow
on an arm
arching my back
till a crack

I am of slight value
to them
it seems

And
I
Am
Angry

Uselessly
as usual

Oh if lashing out worked
I'd know what to do

Sulking
I've done past remembering
the reason

Cut myself off
put them out

Makes me smartly
alone

That smarts

These smarts hurt
enuf

Hurt enuf

Something must be learned here



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I don't craft vases
vazes that is
I don't craft 'em
unless you say
that i do
then i
happily do
I craft vazes
all day

It came to get me
this notion of you
dragged me over
some rough road

Coarse leather
dark patina
no shape
I almost saw
your soul

.. to go
today
to get there

I have to
get there
.........

...between us
I used as a safe zone

it was really
a weapon

and we were really
at war
.......

....in my story
unbeknownst to me
I wasn't here
......

...between me
and Ok me
and effin
amazing me
.......

...I was given
to cross
..........

....and I got lost
..........

....where all the lines cross
I could get there
When I do
they are never crossed

...I am closer now
though


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Sometimes you're a poet

Sometimes you're just
hammered and wailing

Sometimes
you're funny

Sometimes I can't tell

Which I like
Best



Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

The presence of interaction,
at least initially,
destroys localization
in a cloud
of quantum particles,
and allows
the cloud to escape
and smear out,
though very slowly
and subdiffusively.

I swear
This happened to me Thursday
Exactly this way
Spooky


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Some peace can be had
here

I assure the grain of the table
on which I write

Music even
to go with

A scratching i wish
was another's hand



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I am
uncertain

as to your
intent

Is *******
appropriate?

Is "wrong" ringing
in your head?

Uncertain?

Let's dance
syllabic

Rat-a-tat-tat
I love a rat

R u
'ere?

I've this time
to squeeze

and I am
uncertain

I might
like this


spacing
signaling

gaps
nominal gasps

u looked
thanks ***

and I sat
down

to tell you
I am uncertain

about
being here

with you
alone

just finished
crying

O'er

things that seem
certain

I am uncertain



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

And then I didn't
cry

I reached caught
here

Fragments

Of I don't know
flutter

in my hands
dancing

Raising up
Raising

A finger to lips
feeling

as if they
were yours

under my
fingertips

quiet
enjoying

Soft warm
closing


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

the oscillation of anger and you
frequents my day my night
my fuel injected gut muscles
my rocking back and forth rhythm
and limbs that squirm and writhe
-pause to drink-
hit and wrestle this day down
and it is up again flinging desire
and **** you where are you
all over the moon and the sun
and this desert of and this desert of
-pause to drink-
enough of my brain leaps out at a thigh
nails on a red table cloth snag moments cause chills
powers flow through my thoughts and laugh
the laugh of old certainty on new foolishness
i am renewed in my stupidity of aim vs landing
vibrating rattles clanking down some mountain cliff
-pause to drink-
keeping keeping keeping
arms in hands close parallel to myself
not, in this case, me not in this case anyone
is grinning and gripping and grinding steps
and you are out there circling something            
with something lit and sizzling ahead no matter ahead
-pause to drink-
i am behind the sound has moved on banging

I believe my muse
Is of A different race
And ****** orientation

That has nothing to do with
My intent
To do violence

That reason is
I've read
Other poets

On this site
and I like them
way better

I'm going to offer
their muse
more

If I could
just get mine
to go

So I'm ok
with whatever
a muse is

A muse
Am open
to odious

Shenanigans
If the lines
Make you go

Oh
❤
follow






Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Yada yada
Blah blah
Oh dat hurts
Beautifully


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

You don't have time to read this
I'm not even taking the time to write it
I've let it fall this way consciously haphazardly
no, more like half-consciously self-titillating-ly
see if you can say that last word a few times
without smiling because I sure can't

i'm so tired
of the lightning
in your words
the ensuing
tightening
of my heart
the deftness
as you practice
your killing art

With your rhymes
and your considered lines
and your riches of thought
and nuanced life

Hammered I would
given the chance
your existence
flattened

I'm not
belonging

and that is a bell
around  my neck
badged for death
hung with your name

and a sigh
time slipping
out of your pocket
into mine

some notes lie
in sound and sense
leaving you feeling
whole



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

These gusts seem to move the house
for which i am suddenly grateful
and guilty
even wondering 'bout the wildlife in this
gale of snow


even buried a line
back there
in that gap
between the stanzas
got it

sheepish
in the cold
i make soup
of
my life

or maybe
the
soup of my life
it is
that good

the warm
tasty
on my toasted
buttered rye
upside
of avoidance


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Beneath eyes
Lies

Screening
for truth

Your day

Sideways
if found

Stay submerged
why don't ya

Nothin' here
Not even u


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Blah Blah Blah

Blah Blah

Blah Blah Blah Blah

drooling

over the object

of your belief structure

blah blah blah

your coolness

is unheatable

We make each other feel
like we belong in the world

Make somebody feel
that

fly the world


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

I have let these things go
You for example
The center
Gone awry

And all
the carefully orbited
mirrors
reflecting you

their lines of sight
edges of something
we made solid
now bursting

glittering away
bright flashing bits
there gone there gone
gone effortlessly

these questions
we ask ourselves
about why oh why

I've run out of sober
and am left
with inebriated

Sober, what art thou
I'm wondering
with Sarsaparilla

To a tee
I fit
some feeling

And it isn't
the one
you think

It's closer
to one
you drink

with sunshine
I am
slaking

I reject all
of your opinions
and ask you
to supplant them
with mine
forthwith

Things get out
'at shouldn't

izzat a melting inkyness
rubbing its catness

on your
put together

put on
we know

what's melting
on the sofa

finger fast
nightless time

searches me
for day's devil

I have it here
with me now

I'll run right
over


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I saw the picture of you
smoke curling
right off the edge
a microphone
a tone
gritty sound
caught in
black and white
playing like film
thickening time
you talking
or maybe singing
easy as if
it wasn't
electrifying
and i wasn't
never running

I miss you

These endings
that once
were beginnings

time having
run through us
and out

My sisters
my brother
and you

Now
is a time
with missing pieces

of itself
known by
bright wet outlines

Is this a joke
kinda sorta maybe
Most of my stuff is
I'm laughing
when I finish writing it
When I come back later
Not always so much
I awesome soonish with
(I love voice to text)
I often finish with
That's hilarious
And expect someone
To ask me this question
For which I have this answer
ready

I think you're all
too serious
Except when
I'm serious
U clowns

As I write myself
further into
this
cor
n
e
r

I realize
I'm wrong
about "most"
of all

it appears
we grow weary
of being rich

even more
being sacked
at our best

an' hacked
and mod'd
to be greened

forever
beings run
right out

of being
here with
a smell

I've a check-mark to make
satisfyingly
checked

done it
i say
almost carved

touch your
finger
to your lips

that sensation
of absence
of other

need
capitalizes
itself