Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The honeybee attempting to overwinter by the window sill ,
the same one that sparked the growth and fruition
of our Summer Squash hills ....
Filled our trellis with delicious cucurbits and Roma tomatoes ,
brought life giving pollens to our Pattypans , Crooknecks
Butternuts and Acorns ..
Copyright February 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Children are most precious seedlings that will flourish by addressing their most basic , primary nourishing needs ...
Copious amounts of red and black dirt , no part left untouched , a daub of soil from head to toe ...
Summertime showers to feed and cleanse their young minds and bodies ,
to run and play in wet fields of hay , to gallop in the rain after hot and dry days ...
Brilliant waves of sunshine to help them grow , the light of creation pulling them to the blue sky above !!
Copyright February 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Feb 2016 am i ee
Busbar Dancer
so much wrong 
in these hearts. 
these heads, laid neatly in a row 
on a pillow of stone are 
filled with fevered dreams 
of old kingdoms wasted and gone. 
fitful sleep stretched and stressed until 
tears fall upon this chest 
where you once rested and whispered 
something about home. 
no mercy, ******* – 
no redemption found on the skinny streets remembered from 
a misbegotten youth. 
no escape, *******,
up groaning steps 
made sweaty by air as humid as 
the breath of fate. 
i’m a stranger 
whose tires are unwelcomed on your highways and 
whose dollars are unwanted at your filling stations and 
whose soul is beyond saving. 
blood pooled on the sawmill floor 
when hungry teeth touched tender flesh, and 
left only a phantom.
 Feb 2016 am i ee
Busbar Dancer
This addiction to cogency
is holding me back.
We can snap our fingers, and
tap our toes
in different time but
the results would be the same.
The Pride of Saint Vitus
has a name, but
there are no parades
because, well, can you imagine?
I have little to give but
you are welcomed to it.
Its been said that cynics are disappointed dreamers but
as a disappointed dreamer
I say cynics are *******.
There are judicious uses of time and there are
beautiful wastes.
Its a shame that
I need to lay down in the evenings
when "good" T.V. is on and
the sirens wail a little bit less down on the boulevard but
there are these echoes, see, and
they keep me from reading that book I started in the winter of '77.
Let me rest a minute.
 Feb 2016 am i ee
Ezra Pound
As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
When the hot water gives out or goes tepid,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.
 Feb 2016 am i ee
Busbar Dancer
Less than 10 miles from my house
is an insane asylum
(Granny said "nervous hospital")
(Papaw said "***** hatch.")
It is built on an Indian Burial Ground.
There is an adjacent golf course.

How long, oh lord,
before we get to see
affluent white men
in stupid pants
running for their lives
from a swarm of psychos and
the ghost of
the displaced Noble Savage?
No ****. Check out the Wikipedia entry for Moccasin Bend. There's also a brewery. Happy golfing suckers!
 Feb 2016 am i ee
The Thaumaturge
grey simply isn't good enough my dear
it has to be black
or the image isn't right I fear
If I'm to lose my mInd tonIght
the setting has to be just right
the seating has to be just right
just right
yeah right
oh moon where'd you go
I need you to fill in for the stars tonight
they seem to all have caught the cold
yes I'm on the phone with them now
no I'm not going to tell them that
honestly the things I have to deal with
in setting this up
once more for the dress rehearsals
never work with animals, children or celestial bodies
they treat this fate stuff like it's a hobby
hey I'm new here so I apologise in advance for any mistakes I'm no doubt going to make.
 Feb 2016 am i ee
Busbar Dancer
I have 17 rounds for my thirty aught six, and
a five gallon barrel of kerosene. 
My Papaw would have said,
"you're set son," but
I bet he never counted on
all of our best Uber drivers
sliding off the side of Signal Mountain.
Who knew suede shoes weren't weather proof?
We used to pray for a way to make it through
one more unbearable winter.
Now we pray that the power stays on so that
we don't have to burn coal oil and
experience that unpleasant odor.
Praise be for The Tennessee - American Water company.
That's where water was invented.
For much of the "settled" history of the region, The Tennessee-American Water Company was privately owned. Think about that. One family "owned" the water necessary for the survival of literally hundreds of thousands of people. When the city of Chattanooga finally decided to intervene in 2007, conservative groups from all over the country came to the city to protest. "How dare the government interfere with free market economics," the cries went out... This despite the fact that the entire notion of free market economics is predicated on competition and, to my knowledge, there were no mom-and-pop water companies around to offer consumers a choice.

The protests abruptly stopped when people got their first water bill from the newly reformed company and it was 35% lower than they'd been paying.
 Feb 2016 am i ee
phil roberts
Jokers and knaves are wild cards
As ever they were
What fateful houses these make
Breath-held balancing
Precarious shelters
Gamblers and wanderers
With tumbleweed roots
Clinging air instead of earth
The stuff of fools and stars
And someone's days and years
Are made only of this
This thrilling despair

Jokers and knaves and kings and queens
And some of subtler meaning
Mean nothing but paper
Numbers and trembles
Dry-mouthed mumbles
Prayers to a ruthless god
With no reason to pity fools
And a dark love of sacrifice
Yet still desperate belief
Huddled behind swollen eyes
Contradicts every probable outcome
And falls and spins

                        By Phil Roberts
Next page